As evening fell, Britta held the last few white roses in her hands, looking around cautiously, when she happened to walk to the entrance of the underground city.

The base has four entrances, all accessible by elevator, leading down to the 20th floor underground. It is the most bustling and lively, and also the most chaotic, part of the Mixed Base.

At this moment, at the entrance to the underground city, several burly men dressed in thick clothes and short jackets, with fierce looks and short knives tucked at their sides, were loitering around. Every now and then, groups of men who had finished work would walk in through the entrance.

“Sir, would you like a white rose?” Britta stood nearby, timidly trying to sell to passersby hurrying down to have some fun. Her fair face, hidden under her deerstalker hat, was reddened by the cold wind.

In winter, this handsome boy of Germanic descent always attracts the attention of some people.

A tall, thin, middle-aged man with slightly protruding cheekbones walked up to him with a malicious smile, and asked in a pretentious manner, "Little one, come with me to play for a bit, how about I buy you a flower?"

Bryta paused, seemingly catching a whiff of food from the man, and couldn't help but get excited: "Yes, sir."

The tall, thin man raised an eyebrow, put his arm around the boy's shoulder, and led him into the underground city's elevator. The elevator gradually filled with vulgar men, many of whom noticed the boy with his rosy lips and white teeth, and openly stared at him greedily. The tall, thin man's lips curled into a slight smile, and he tightened his grip on the boy, becoming even more smug.

Bryta didn't like this feeling. She frowned slightly and tried to move her shoulders to break free from the man's movements. Just then, the elevator doors opened with a "ding" on the eighteenth floor below ground.

In the distance, the roars of victorious boxers in the boxing ring, along with the cacophony of voices and countless irrational shouts, surged into my ears like a raging tide.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Britta nimbly broke free from the man's grasp and stepped out of the elevator.

At the entrance of the underground boxing ring, someone quickly pulled up a virtual payment code and stepped forward, bowing slightly to the people in front of them: "Sir, two middle row seats, eight contribution points, thank you."

Bretta watched in amazement as the other person effortlessly obtained eight contribution points.

I learned something.

When it was their turn, the tall, thin man looked down at the innocent, handsome boy in front of him and thought to himself that it was worth it to get a taste for just ten contribution points.

"Two in the middle row."

"Sir, two middle-row seats, eight donation points, thank you."

As he readily prepared to pay, the boy suddenly stood next to the ticket collector at the boxing ring across the street, mimicking the gesture of pulling up the payment code, and said, "Sir, one white rose, ten donation points, thank you."

Ticket seller: "..."

The tall, thin man: "..."

Frustrated, he quickly paid both bills and was handed a white rose.

Fearing the boy would run away immediately, he quickly reached out and stopped him, saying with a forced smile, "I've already bought you the ticket, come in and have some fun."

As they entered, Bleta could smell the aroma of food emanating from the man beside him even more. His bright eyes fixed on the man, he nodded and said, "Mmm!"

This look gave the tall, thin man great satisfaction, and he led him to a seat in the middle row.

Just then, an acquaintance of the tall, thin man saw him bring over a handsome boy, whistled, and gave him a smug look, saying, "Maurice, where did you get this from?"

A boxing match was taking place in the arena when suddenly a roar of cheers erupted from the crowd.

In the corner of the left corridor of the boxing ring, a man dressed in a black combat uniform and wearing a hat whose face was obscured was holding a gun in his hand. He was leaning against the wall with his back straight, seemingly taking a nap with his eyes closed.

In reality, he subtly twitched his ear and sensed the airflow as people waved their hands throughout the arena, the impact of the liquid against the bottle when young people tilted their heads back to drink alcoholic beverages, and the vibrations as boxers punched their opponents' muscles.

He frowned slightly, his eyelids drooping lazily and sleepily, lost in thought.

A muscular Asian man with a buzz cut quickly approached him and whispered in his ear, "Colonel, the Asian Alliance has confirmed your sacrifice. It seems some people are getting impatient."

"Hmm." Only his strong and handsome jawline was visible beneath the brim of his hat. The man nodded slightly, seemingly unconcerned.

"Cheng Cheng, how's the matter I gave you going?"

The man with the buzz cut named Cheng Cheng nodded and handed him an ID card.

The man glanced at the card number and name on the ID card.

[ID: 0837611172453 Name: Lin Dao]

He took it and put it in his pocket.

Cheng Cheng looked up and glanced down at the boxing ring, saying, "We've detected unusual activity here several times. It seems like something is circulating in the shadows. But this is a hybrid world base, and nobody wants to get involved in this mess."

The man slightly raised his head, revealing deep and handsome features. His expression was blank, cold, and he seemed somewhat tired. He said in a deep voice, "Isn't this always the case?"

Cheng Cheng was taken aback. He stared at the man in front of him and realized that since that brush with death, the colonel seemed to have changed a bit. But he couldn't quite put his finger on how.

He was about to speak again when he was interrupted.

"Master Cheng! You and your friend are here? Look at the mess down there, could you please take care of things?" The boxing ring owner stepped forward, bowing and scraping. Recently, there had been a series of riots by the boxers at the ring, and he had finally managed to contact a team of mercenaries to help him keep order.

The man leaning against the wall had his entire face hidden in darkness, only revealing a sharp, defined jawline, his thin lips slightly moving.

"knew."

Bretta stared blankly at the escalating violence on the boxing ring ahead. The match was over, but the bloodthirsty boxer was practically roaring as he pinned another man to the ground, pounding him into the earth with each punch.

The tall, thin man next to him, named Maurer, crossed his legs smugly and boasted to the boy beside him, "I knew he would win me a lot of money."

"Bang—!" A gunshot rang out, instantly silencing the surrounding cheers and clamor. But the boxer on the stage seemed completely deaf to it, continuing to throw punches like a wild beast, as if he wanted to tear his prey apart and devour it whole.

"Bang!" It wasn't until another burst of bullets grazed the right hand of the crazed boxer that he was finally jolted awake by the pain. He looked down and saw his opponent, who was half-dead. He was somewhat bewildered and panicked, and quickly stood up and backed away.

At the same time, a tall, slender man dressed entirely in black camouflage combat clothing, wearing a helmet and military-style boots, holding an assault rifle, led several mercenaries dressed similarly behind him as they stepped forward.

His imposing aura silenced the crowd for a moment.

The boxer fell to the ground in terror, enduring the excruciating pain in his side, and looked up at the man in front of him who exuded a dangerous aura.

After firing the shot, Lin Dao didn't look at him again and coldly ordered, "Drag him away."

The people behind him moved swiftly and decisively. A group of mercenaries came rushing in and then quickly retreated, accompanied by a cold wind. The next match soon began.

Bretta was startled by the two gunshots, and memories from several months ago vaguely surfaced.

Bretta, who had been rescued wearing a protective suit, sat in the back of the carriage with a group of disheveled humans, and vaguely heard voices:

"Colonel! A total of twelve people have been rescued and have been transported to a nearby base by machine guns and tanks..."

Bretta lowered her head, sniffing the scent the man beside her was trying to hide by clutching his arm. A bullet whizzed through the air, striking the man squarely in the center of his forehead. Before the man's expression of terror could fully materialize, a drop of blood trickled down.

The mice that had just left the lab clearly felt the fear of death.

He heard the man's cold voice: "Now it's eleventh."

Bretta, sitting in the audience, once again sensed danger from the leading mercenary man. He dared not linger any longer, quickly picked up the few remaining white roses in his hand, stood up, and prepared to leave.

Yes, he hasn't sold all his flowers yet.

The tall, thin man beside him glared menacingly at the mercenary leader, reached into his pocket, touched the dark green liquid potion, and spat out a curse.

He looked up and saw that the boy was frightened and about to run away. He stood up and reached out to stop him. He had completely forgotten that there was still a plate of snacks that he hadn't tasted.

Where to?

"Sir, I... I still need to sell flowers." He hadn't eaten or drunk anything all day, and if he didn't sell them all, he wouldn't have anything to eat. Just as he was thinking this, his stomach started growling.

Hearing the noise, the tall, thin man looked him up and down with a sullen gaze and said, "Are you hungry? I'll take you to get something good to eat."

Bryta was indeed starving, and then he caught a faint smell of food emanating from the other man. He swallowed hard, nodded, and followed him toward the side of the boxing ring.

When the other person led him to the entrance of a men's restroom, seeing his hesitant expression and reluctance to go in, they urged, "Come in?"

Bretta was still holding a few flowers in her hand. After hesitating for a long time, she said, "Sir, I can't eat shit with you..."

"..."

The tall, thin man was about to give him a stern warning, but then he suppressed his twitching brows and coaxed, "...Of course not, it's something delicious that will make your mouth water."

Hunger made Bryta more sensitive to the scent of "food," and he could vaguely sense it was near the man. He lowered his gaze and followed him inside.

As soon as they entered the sink area, Bryta stared at the patch of dark green peeking out of his pocket and asked innocently, "What's that?"

The tall, thin man paused, raised an eyebrow, took out the vial of medicine from his pocket, and waved it in front of the boy whose eyes were shining: "This... is a good thing."

It tastes good! Bryta remembers drinking a lot of this stuff every day when he was in the lab.

Just thinking about the taste made his mouth water.

The tall, thin man was about to laugh when his expression suddenly froze as he looked at the boy, followed by a look of shock and disbelief.

The boy's saliva dripped onto the floor, immediately corroding a dark hole that hissed.

But the boy kept getting closer to him, asking with a chillingly innocent and bewildered expression:

"Can I have a sip?"

"Aa ...

"Monster! You're a monster!!!"

The man screamed in terror and ran away from Bryta.

Bretta, her little mouth agape and drool dripping, was speechless.

But before long, the man ran out, and then suddenly fell to the ground.

With a sharp "smack," his face was buried in the liquid and shards of glass scattered on the ground.

The viscous green liquid seemed to come alive as it drilled into the holes in his face.

Before he could feel fear, just a few seconds later, his body, which had been lying on the ground, stood up in a bizarre, twisted position that was difficult for a human to achieve, making a "creaking" sound as if his joints were dislocating.

Bretta came out and saw that he was still there. The enticing aroma was even more fragrant and rich. She couldn't help but carefully walk up to him and stammer, "Sir, just one bite, please?"

Upon hearing this, the twisted man slowly turned his head 180 degrees, revealing a face distorted beyond recognition by a green liquid. His original eyes had become double eyelids, and his mouth had mutated into an appendage, emitting a low, hoarse "hoarse" sound from his throat. In the next instant, three pairs of folded, scythe-like limbs with sharp spines erupted from both sides of his body towards Blaita. Immediately afterward, thin, transparent, fan-shaped forewings and hindwings unfolded from behind him, spreading out with a flap.

This distortion caused it to immediately grow to a height of nearly three meters, a colossal creature looming over Bryta.

Bretta stared at the strange creature before her, her eyes widening in astonishment:

Wow!

He licked his lips excitedly, his hunger palpable, and exclaimed, "You look so delicious!"

Alien: "?"

Are you polite?