Africa coast, ship dismantling site.

It was the tide that was falling, and dozens of dilapidated ships were moored on the dry shore. The red light emitted by the sunset enveloped the ship, making it like a dying Titan giant in the myth.

Most of these ships are freighters, and they have been disrepaired and cannot find their next house, which has led to their own destiny to be dismantled.

Of course, one of these ships is special.

The giant cargo ship of the Churchill, which belongs to the United Kingdom, once had an extremely glorious history. It once carried steel across the Red Sea Strait and had oil barrels across the Cape of Good Hope Coast, covering the sky, thunderstorms, and roaring waves, witnessing the decades of vicissitudes of the Churchill.

And now, even though it is old and parked on the ship dismantling ground, the Churchill is still full of vitality.

Hundreds of black employees in dirty shirts stood inside the not-so-spacious ship, busy working.

They either use mechanical booms or go barefoots to carry rows of short-range missiles, military radar components, fully automatic rifles, grenades, and individual bazooka, seal them into wooden boxes, rivets outside the boxes, and put them in containers.

These containers with military items will be sent to all over the world, from guerrilla organizations with self-respecting troops in South Asia, to drug lords in South America, warlords in the African melee areas, to mafia in Europe, and arms buyers all over the world.

The strong smell of sweat fermented inside the Churchill ship. Under the dim light, the African employees with sweat were almost integrated with the environment. If the color of the second-hand shirts on them were not too conspicuous, they would have caused production accidents because they could not see people.

Hundreds of thousands, millions, millions, and even hundreds of millions of dollars of arms flowed from Churchill ships to all over the world, but these are not even the most valuable wealth on the Churchill cargo ship.

On the second floor of the Churchill, some metal is placed in the safe surrounded by the gate of the super giant vault.

Vibration gold, also known as sound-absorbing steel and Nirvana steel, is one of the most scarce and special metal materials on the earth.

The reason why it is special is that the special molecular structure of vibrator makes it have unparalleled solid properties, and can directly absorb heat and kinetic energy and store it in the metal structure.

Not only that, the vibrator that absorbs energy is like a spring that accumulates full force, which can bounce the energy out at any time - Captain America's shield is doped with a small amount of vibrator during the casting process.

These particularities have made vibrator an ideal special metal, which has attracted major organizations and has also stolen prices on the black market.

However, its scarcity is that vibrator produces very little annual output, even the giant state machine of the Wuchang level can only be used for small-scale research by top laboratories, and it is impossible to use vibrator to mass production of weapons.

The demand for vibrator produces huge economic benefits, and huge economic benefits, like fresh meat with blood, can always cause wealth hunting dogs that are written as "adventurers" and read as "mercenaries".

Ulysses Crowe is such a mercenary. Rather than saying that he is a wealth hunter, it is more appropriate to make him a "hyena".

Faced with greed for wealth, cruelty and cruelty of the weak, and timid and humble of the strong, blood is known as "crazy" rolling in his blood vessels.

For Ulysses Crow, bloodthirsty fly and crocodiles lurking in the dark rainforest is better than the presidential suite of the Hilton Hotel; the lions and cheetahs wander in the garden, and the primitive wilderness of giant elephants and wildebeests are better than the most consumed strip club in New York City.

He is the owner of Churchill and the owner of the vibrator in the vault.

"The arms vendors raised by world powers, independent warlords in remote and backward areas, and ambitious multinational security companies all like to cooperate with me. Do you know why?"

Ulysses Crow was sitting in a narrow workshop, holding a sharp Swiss army knife, carving the wood carving in his hand, and lazily putting his feet in dirty military boots on the desk, talking in unison to an Einstein big-headed doll placed on the table.

He was a middle-aged man who was not tall and mighty. Ulysses was shorter and thinner than the big and thick mercenaries under his command.

He had a square face full of horizontal flesh, a shallow beard with gray-black grey black, his untidy yellowed teeth, a dirt shirt, a long and ferocious scar on his forehead and cheeks, which looked particularly annoying.

"Tell me, do you know why?"

Ulysses pointed at Einstein's big-headed doll with the blade of the Swiss Army knife, who continued to shake his head unknowingly, making regular sounds of crackling.

The workroom was filled with strange smells of indescribable oil, sweat, and body odor mixed together. With the dull air and high temperature, the whole workroom was like a football player's greasy and wet socks that had not been washed in three days.

"Because I am a qualified businessman, whoever bids more, I will serve him, fair, just, open, honest, and affordable..."

Ulysses muttered to himself, pressing the half-carved human figure on the table, suddenly bounced up from behind the desk, and took out a pistol from under his butt at an extremely fast speed and pointed it at the door of the workshop.

The clock ticked, ticked, and kept passing. Ulysses moved back very slowly, and tried to see clearly the situation outside through the crack of the door.

Thanks to the extremely thin thickness of the bulletproof glass in the workplace, Ulysses could hear the noise outside.

The noisy African dialect, the turbid, weird tone, and loud shouts all explained to Ulysses that everything inside the Churchill cargo ship was normal.

"There is...what is wrong."

The mercenary scratched the back of his neck, his slightly flat eyes rolling around, and his dirty shirt was already soaked in sweat.

The fear of the unknown grabbed his heart - which made him even more excited.

Squeak...

The door of the workshop suddenly opened, and Ulysses subconsciously pointed his gun down and shot several times at the door frame. No matter who was standing outside the door, the other party should have kneeled on the ground and screamed in his arms with his shot kneecap.

However, there was no scream in my ears. The bullets passing through the door panel seemed to be missing, leaving only three black holes.

"It's not a good habit to shoot when we meet, Mr. Crow."

Oloro Monroe, a female African mutant who was once affiliated with the X-Men and code-named "Storm Girl", was standing outside the door of the workshop. Before the bullet fired by Ulysses touched her body, she was thorned into pieces by the ubiquitous thunder net and fell on the iron floor, making a crisp sound.

"My boss wants to see you," Storm woman glanced at Ulysses expressionlessly. The smell of the mercenary in front of her made her frown, "I suggest you, it's better to spray some perfume on yourself."

"Your boss..." Ulysses narrowed his eyes.
Chapter completed!