The prosperous business circle in the city center has a strong modern atmosphere, with a different building, red brick walls, and the gold-body logo of the "Garros Fighting Club" allows passers-by to look at them.

Inside the sliding double-sided gold-framed glass door, bypassing the reception desk, the sound of slamming and slamming sounds are endless, and a row of sandbags are arranged neatly.

Several strong white or black men with naked upper bodies and shorts wearing boxing gloves, kept wielding straight boxing, or cheating and smashing; students who needed weight gain, with the guidance and assistance of the coach, took the dumbbells bit by bit; not far away, a thick rope was pinched in the hand by a giant man and swung left and right, making a low and dumb breathing sound, occasionally glancing at the middle ring.

Gunter Wertson, the owner of this club, is more than two meters tall and is even more sturdy. His knotted muscles are covered with fine beads of sweat. The spotlight of the dome shines, emitting a steel-like luster.

The other party put his arms on the rubber guardrail, like an adult brown bear standing upright. Looking down at a white man in a straight suit below, you can vaguely hear them discussing something.

“I need to consider the invitation from CIA!”

"Why do you think about it? Your ability is outstanding, it's too wasteful to put it in this small fight club. You should go to better places and play your role. You are a U.S. citizen and are obliged to make some meager contributions to this country, Mr. Wiltson."

"It is because I am a US citizen that I am willing to see you. If you force me, then there is no freedom... I will think about this for two days. You must know that doing things with you is easy to die."

"No problem, wait for your reply."

The CIA, who was in a well-suited suit, did not rush to leave, like a gentleman bowed slightly, and Wiltson saw this and frowned his golden eyebrows, "What else?"

"I remember something, and I will give you a gift when I come here." The agent took out a beautiful booklet from his arms, raised his face and kept a smile and handed it over, "I know you have a special hobby, which is what we noticed from those who immigrated, as long as you want..."

The CIA folded his hands on his lower abdomen. Seeing the giant man confused, he tilted his neck and signaled him to open it. The latter used his fingertips to spread a page, with photos on it, all of which were young girls... and even little boys.

Wiltson gradually smiled expressionlessly, and opened his beard at the corner of his mouth, closed the booklet and patted it in his hand twice. He was obviously satisfied with the gift.

"Immigration to the United States, they always have to pay some price, right?" the agent smiled and shrugged, saying, "Slowly choose your menu, think about it and call me, you know my number."

After saying that, he nodded politely to the club members looking around, turned around and walked to the gate there.

"hehe......"

Wiltson looked at the booklet in his hand and looked at the left back. He took out a cell phone from his trousers. It was shaking. The call that was displayed was an overseas number.

After connecting, he put it on his face and smiled in a low voice, "Valandia, I haven't heard your voice for a long time. Is there any goods to come to me?"

I don't know what I said, but the giant man laughed loudly, and the loud laughter made people around him feel pain in their eardrums. Even the CIA who walked to the door couldn't help but look back.

I heard Wiltson look at the agent who was leaving with a smile, waved his hand casually, but said to the phone: "Yes, use a car of children to load your things, and then leave them all for me. I like this kind of buying business!"

The CIA on the other side looked at Wilterson, who was talking on the phone in the distance in confusion. As for what happened, it would be fine as long as it did not affect his recruitment. He turned around and pushed open the glass door, and faced a tall oriental man who was two meters tall, strode with a bag. The moment he staggered with him at the door, the other party walked straight in.

Immediately, a Mexican man followed behind him in a panic and passed by him.

After walking out three meters away, the agent vaguely felt that the oriental man who had just entered was familiar with him, as if he had seen him somewhere. He felt confused in his heart. He touched the gun holster at his waist, turned around and returned to the club again. When he pushed open the glass door, the oriental man carrying a bowling bag had already walked to the training ground in the inner room. The female receptionist at the front desk hurried over with high heels, "Sir, you need to show your membership card, or apply for a membership before you can enter. We do not receive Mexicans here."

The female receptionist glanced at Kema who was following the man and asked the security guard who was looking here to drive him away. The next second, Wang Ruhu pressed him to the side of his face, and almost his entire face was wrapped in his palm and brushed him away.

“Get out of here.”

The woman stumbled and lifted her back, her high heels were unsteadily trampled, and she sat on the ground. The movement suddenly attracted the attention of a group of men practicing boxing around her. She stopped her movements and looked over, and surrounded her with an impatient temperament. One of the burly men dropped the thick rope in her hand, opened her big hand and slapped the oriental man in front of her.

The swinging palm was caught and Wang Ruhu looked at him calmly, and asked at the man who was calling on the ring: "Wilterson?"

The latter was stunned for a moment while pinching his phone, and nodding subconsciously. Then, the broken and crisp sound of the bones 'click' sound, and the heart-wrenching scream of the giant man, he grabbed the painful knees in Wang Ruhu's hands and knelt on the floor.

For a moment, everyone around him hesitated whether to step forward. The sound of bone shattering made people feel cold.

In front, Wilterson on the ring whispered to the other end of the phone: "There is a little troublesome here, so let's hang up first." He put his phone on the corner of the ring and looked at the oriental who was also looking coldly, and turned his neck.

"Bold Oriental, I appreciate your courage and insignificant strength. So, tell me, are you going to come and play a fight or just a fight?"

"Decide the top..."

Wang Ruhu threw away the broken wrist in his hand, raised his foot and kicked it lightly to one side, and then followed the words behind: "...................... The strong man kneeling on the floor slid a few meters away, walked closer to the ring, jumped gently, pressed the rubber guardrail and jumped in, throwing the bowling bag in his hand into the corner.

The cold eyes burst into fierceness, and the words in their mouths also fell: "Life and Death!"

Next second.

There was a bang in the ring, and the figure standing at a corner of the ring instantly pulled out a afterimage and rushed towards the opposite side!

......

When the battle broke out on the stage, the colleague CIA who was entering the door was contacting to help check if there was any information about the Oriental people recently.

The moment I entered the training ground, the voice of my speech suddenly stopped. The eyes ahead were a little dull, and a loud noise like a car crash exploded in the venue.

Bang!

The ring pillar dragged the broken rubber guardrail into the air, smashing against one wall, and the dust fell down.

In his sight, Wilterson had blood on his lips and dodged in a little embarrassed manner. The first time he saw someone stronger than him.

‘Fake…’

He cursed.
Chapter completed!