Seeing the 'savages' in the lobby, each one ferocious and fearless, his subordinates barely able to injure them before countering fists shattered their bones and left them unconscious, the man in sunglasses began to feel regret creeping in his heart.
'Am I really the gangster here, or are they? How can they be this vicious one by one?'
He was utterly confused. How much exactly had someone paid to hire these people? They were fighting as if throwing their lives away. Running errands for so many major corporations himself, he'd scraped together a mere sixty Sequence 5 bodyguards, yet even that had hurt his wallet enough to make him wince. Expanding further was out of the question.
