"I didn't expect that we would sit together and talk about cooperation one day. The world is really amazing, isn't it?" Markarian was sitting on the bar of a bar, obviously not used to the noisy environment here, let alone the high stool under his butt.
.
"I want to know, why?" Markarian frowned and looked at the wine glass handed over by Mikkelsen. The tall and thin wine glass was filled with colorful liquids, and coarse salt grains and lemon slices were rubbed on the edge of the glass.
I don't even know how to say it.
"Why why?" Mikkelsen, wearing a bartender's vest, shook the shaker with fancy movements and asked with a smile: "Why are I cooperating with you at this time?"
Markarian did not answer, but used his fingers to sip the coarse salt off the edge of the glass and tasted the contents of the glass briefly.
"Well, the main reason is that your plan is very successful. Your numbers are increasing, and the only weapon I can use is Tangji." Mikkelsen stood in front of Markarian and said: "You are here
How many people have been smuggled into my world? Five thousand, or ten thousand?"
Markarian responded with a meaningful smile and remained silent. The number of players was his biggest advantage. No one knew how many players he had hidden in this world.
"And the cooperation with some players has exceeded my initial expectations. I think there is room for us to sit down and talk." Mikkelsen snapped his fingers, and the originally lively bar suddenly became quiet, and the guests and workers
People filed out without making any additional noise.
This was beyond Markarian's expectation. He had never realized that the bar was full of people from the other party.
"I can't see where this space is." Markarian looked at Mikkelsen and asked: "I cannot and do not want to restrict the players' freedom. We are not here for peace."
"But you can't continue to bear such losses. You have never encountered such a problem as Tanguy before." Mikkelsen still looked like a dedicated bartender in the empty bar, wiping the shaker with a clean cloth.
Hu, his tone remained unchanged: "Through Quan Zhe and those few paladins, I know that most of your pioneering actions are long-term tasks and may even last for hundreds of years."
"So, why don't we try to resolve our disputes in a civilized way?" Mikkelsen said: "You have received my gift as an expression of sincerity, right?"
Mikkelsen is talking about the few superhumans who have been targeted by players. They have now been packaged and given to the Trail Blazers. The whole process is as convenient as buying things in a supermarket.
Compared to reckless players, Mikkelsen's agents are obviously more professional, and under the banner of the FBAS Bureau, they are also very confusing.
"My time is precious, and I hope yours is too," Markarian said, ready to log off at any time.
To be honest, when he first received Mikkelsen's exchange invitation through a certain naturalized force as an intermediary, Markarian thought it was an April Fool's Day joke.
That's right, April Fool's Day, he has now begun to remember this world holiday, because this is obviously a long-term job, long enough to often remind him of that different world with three civilizations
Mikkelsen smiled. His time was of course precious, but if it were divided equally among more than four thousand clones, it would not be so precious. He could spend a whole day playing charades with Markarian here.
But Mikkelsen didn't bother to do that, he was here to negotiate.
"It's not terrible to admit failure. I'm a very realistic person." Mikkelsen took out a brandy from the wine cabinet and poured himself a glass. He leaned on the bar and drank gracefully and said, "I'll try my best, no matter what.
I have tried my best for myself and for the sake of this civilization, but you are like cockroaches in a house, only the part squeezed out of the darkness will always be seen."
Markarian didn't like Mikkelson's metaphor, but considering that the person in front of him was one pole of the Tanguy-Mikkelson bipolar combination, he was willing to endure it for the time being.
"To put it simply, my think tanks gave me a number, and they told me that once the number of players exceeds this number, we will become the losers in this war." Mikkelsen shrugged, somewhat helplessly.
He smiled and said, "The number was three thousand and one in the beginning, but you almost immediately exceeded that number, and then they changed the number to five thousand and five. I guess you have already exceeded it by now."
"You should fire your think tank team." Markarian advised sincerely, because the total number of players was almost five digits at this time, but he did not feel that he had won.
"Maybe you're right, but the fact is that it has nothing to do with numbers. Ever since you immortal, high-temperature invaders set their sights on my world, the outcome of this war has been doomed, right?" Mikkelsen said calmly.
Said: "Tang Ji's existence was just an accident. He alone could not change the outcome of the war."
"A very wise opinion. In fact, he attracted a lot of unnecessary attention from my world. Believe me, this is not a good thing for your world." Markarian raised his hand to the man in front of him.
Wine glasses were touched in the air.
"Instead of talking about Tangji today, how about we talk about what I said before about cooperation?" Mikkelsen spoke again, talking about cooperation: "I am a proud person, and I cannot allow myself to see this while I am still alive.
The world has become your amusement park, so I found a compromise and built a special zone large enough. You have the final say in the special zone, but before I die, players cannot leave the special zone and affect the outside world.
.”
"You're kidding, I'll just assume you've had too much to drink. When I finish drinking this glass of wine, I'll leave, or you can try to let Tang Ji deal with me." Markarian was struck by the other party's somewhat outrageous idea.
Funny: "We are here to conquer, not to be played like monkeys."
"What if I can guarantee that the special zone is absolutely safe?" Mikkelsen continued: "Tang Ji will not go to the special zone to hunt you, what is the condition?"
Markarian's ears twitched, and for a moment he was really moved, because the players now lacked the German army's experience time, and could not compete with the Tangji-Mikkelsen combination in terms of high-end combat power.
If we can develop in the so-called special zone for a while, the situation may be greatly improved, but this kind of olive branch extended by the enemy is often poisonous.
"Look, there is obviously room for cooperation between us. I just want to worry about my life and not my afterlife." Mikkelsen said as if he was joking: "The doctor said I have cancer and can only live for ten more years. .”
"How about we cooperate more deeply, and let you provide services to the players, let them have fun and eat well in this world, and then when we have had enough fun, we can just pat our butts and leave, taking nothing with us except Tang Ji." How about that?" Markarian put the empty cup on the bar and said with interest.
"Are you kidding? If such a good thing happens, I can even let Tangji dress up in women's clothing and let you take him away." Mikkelsen smiled happily, as if he already had a picture in front of his eyes.
"You were the one who made the joke first." Markarian was pushed over, with the same smile on his face: "But the joke you just made was too funny, so I plan to give you another glass of wine and let's talk again. The no-joking kind.”
"Okay, I'm a good drinker, why don't we talk while we eat?" Mikkelsen immediately walked out of the bar and found a booth with Markarian: "Why don't we start with the topic of player existence and making it public and legal? How about the start of transformation?”
"Oh? Have you reached an agreement with Tang Ji?" Markarian now began to feel that the man in front of him really wanted to cooperate with him.
This is not the first time he has seen such a situation. Facing the invasion of another world, resistance is almost the instinctive reaction of the indigenous people. In comparison, the naturalized people are a minority.
But as time passes, the ratio between the two will change rapidly. The smarter the person, the more he can see clearly what futile resistance is.
The Mikkelsen in front of him is undoubtedly a smart person, very smart, and a very difficult opponent to deal with.
On the opposite side is Tang Ji, a reckless man who relies more on intuition than brains. The only troublesome thing is that his intuition is very accurate.
"A stack of Greyhound tickets, a pistol, two magazines, and two thousand federal dollars in cash and change. It only costs 4,500 to pack these together." Wearing a tattered camouflage uniform, with a red bandage tied to his head. The old man was sitting in this wheelchair. On the makeshift table in front of him were the things he mentioned. A shotgun was placed across his lap: "If you decide to buy it before noon, I can also give you a hot dog for lunch."
"There is no facial recognition jammer." A Mikkelsen, who looked a little depressed, checked the ticket and change. After making sure there were no problems, he checked the status of the pistol and bullets.
It's not that good, it's badly worn, but it's still genuine.
"That thing is very expensive. You need to wait four hours to calculate the next transaction. We'd better complete this transaction first and build some trust." The old man watched Mikkelsen load the pistol and also finished the shotgun. Loaded: "You'd better stay out of trouble."
Mikkelsen pulled the bolt and ejected the bullet from the chamber. After making sure that the recoil spring was still elastic, he put the pistol down and said, "This is different from what was promised."
"I know it's different. I told my retirement pension agency the same thing, but they told me this is life. Now I'll pass this sentence on to you." The old man laughed and said, "Hurry up. You can't find a better price anywhere near here, so I guess you're in big trouble."
"When can I get the facial recognition jammer?" Mikkelsen asked expressionlessly.
After he was separated from his own thought network, it took him a long time to adapt to this silent life again, and then he soon fell in love with a person who sleeps when he sleeps and eats when he eats.
Out of caution, Mikkelsen has been hiding himself near the homeless camp, using a motorcycle to move between different tribes, exchanging a little bit of technology for everything he needs.
For example, he would do odd jobs such as repairing diesel generators or radio towers, but most employers would only hire him for a day and then politely ask him to leave.
The smell of officialdom on Mikkelsen's body was so strong that the Rangers couldn't turn a blind eye.
"At this time tomorrow, there will be an abandoned shack two kilometers northwest of the camp. You can find the things you want inside, but the money must be paid now. We will leave for the next living point at noon tomorrow."
"You came from the south? How is the situation over there?" Mikkelsen inquired about outside news and tried to judge the world situation.
"It's a mess. It's terrible. It's a good thing that it was established. There's FBAS Bureau to take care of it. Superhumans are a little bit scrupulous. Just ask for your own blessings in the wasteland." The old man watched Mikkelsen start to count the money, and then reminded him again.
One sentence: "You can't go to the west. There is a tribe of wanderers over there. They have been killed without sparing any one. The murderer is probably a superhuman. No bullet casings were found at the scene."
"Let me tell you, if you buy this thing, it can't even be considered a self-defense weapon in the wasteland. Only a young boy in the city likes you." The old man muttered and accepted the money: "You all think you are Tang Ji.
Woolen cloth?"
Mikkelsen didn't care about this level of offense, picked up his things and rode to his hiding place.
It was an old signal transfer station. Occasionally passing homeless delivery drivers would stop here for a while and borrow the antenna of the signal tower to communicate with the tribe.
They usually don't disturb Mikkelsen because he is on the maintenance platform at the top of the signal tower. As long as he hides his car, no one will notice that there is a person hiding ten meters above his head.
Unless they are specifically looking for someone.
This independent individual who escaped from Mikkelsen's system has never completely escaped the system's agents. They are like tarsal maggots, constantly chasing his footsteps.
This has nothing to do with hiding skills. Independent Mikkelsen is also Mikkelsen. He knows that he has some capable people and strangers, including superhumans who can vaguely locate the target position. The opponent's ability can only be used in three days.
once.
So Mikkelsen doesn't stay in the same place for more than seventy-two hours, but today is clearly not his lucky day.
Before he could return to his hiding place, he saw fresh ruts on the ground, which were the marks left by the heavy body of the Emperor SUV.
It is rare to see this kind of fuel-guzzler in the wilderness, and wanderers prefer vehicles with strong off-road performance such as the 'Wild Donkey'.
Mikkelsen didn't want to bet that the other party was passing by, so he had no choice but to leave, and the money spent on the facial recognition jammer was wasted.
Now, he only had the two thousand yuan in change available.
Fortunately, it wasn't too far from his destination. If he walked southwest for three days and three nights, he would be able to see the walls of the City of Night.
Regardless of whether it was the dark under the lamp or the bravery of a skilled artist, Mikkelsen decided to hide there for a while to see if he could find any loopholes in the system.