Colonial Suit

The mercenary branch was crowded, and Singer's kick startled everyone. However, when they recognized who it was, they all fell silent.

Singer was famous here, so famous that no one wanted to have any conflict with him.

A mutant who wasn't even of Appendant strength when he debuted, actually evolved into a Meteor-level mercenary in just a few years with his ruthlessness and ferocity. His rapid evolution and miraculous growth have attracted everyone's attention. It can be said that Singer's growth rate is only comparable to that of the most famous Blood瞳 a few years ago. But Blood瞳 has now been identified as a descendant of Crodyll, while Singer is just a mutant. This is a bit surprising.

Many people speculated about how Singer evolved so quickly, and also wanted to know who his master was, but unfortunately, since the relic incident seven years ago, Singer's personal information has been sealed by the headquarters. Ordinary people can't even inquire about it, let alone access it, and will be investigated by the mercenaries. So Singer's identity has become a mystery in most people's minds.

The only thing known is that this kid was just a newbie seven years ago, but now he is a fierce Meteor-level mercenary.

No, not just Meteor-level, there are rumors that he stepped into the Comet-level a year ago, but there is no evidence yet, and he has never admitted it.

"Hey! Singer! Are you here to cause trouble again!" A burly mercenary laughed and jeered. His name was Bell, a well-known Meteor-level mercenary here. Perhaps due to their similar roughness, they were kindred spirits, and even went to pick up girls together. So their relationship was extremely good.

"Bell, how much game have you eaten again? I can smell your bad breath from this far away!" Singer walked into the front hall laughing, reaching out to pat the butt of the receptionist girl next to him.

"Hey, sweet Sissy, give me a bottle of whiskey."

"Ugh, Singer, you're touching me there again..." The girl gave a charming roll of her eyes, and indeed threw a bottle of whiskey from the bar.

Singer grabbed it, bit off the cap, and took a swig.

"Ha, the whiskey here is still the most authentic. Damn it. The hellish place I went to this time even mixed water into the whiskey. It tastes like swill. It's disgustingly maddening."

"I heard you had a big one this time? How was the harvest?" Bell asked with a grin from the crowd.

"Not bad. Added a few scars and broke three ribs," Singer replied with a grin, touching his ribs at the same time. He and Bell often bragged, both taking pride in their scars. So this sentence was said with confidence, only making Bell roll his eyes.

"Alright, Bell. I don't have time to chat with you. That old man Styr is calling me. I'll find you for a drink when I get back." Saying that, Singer waved his hand and went to the elevator behind the hall.

The elevator went straight to the one hundred and seventy-third floor, and when Singer walked out, he was in a luxurious corridor covered with red carpet.

At the end of the corridor was a magnificent office, where an old man with white hair was waiting for him.

The old man was looking out the window with his hands behind his back. Hearing Singer's footsteps, he didn't turn his head and said coldly.

"Boy, this is your sixty-second time being late. Why does your smart brain always shut down irregularly when I need you?"

"Hey, old man. You know it's not my fault that the smart brain went on strike," Singer chuckled and raised the bottle of wine in his hand. "Want a drink? Fresh whiskey."

"I know that girl Sissy always leaves you the best bottle, but you don't need to show off to me." The old man sighed, turned around and pointed to the sofa next to him. "Sit down for a while. I have something to talk to you about this time."

"Nonsense. When have you ever looked for me without something going on?" Singer sat down unceremoniously, then took out a cigar. Just as he was about to light it, he suddenly remembered something and stood up, walking behind the old man's desk. He expertly took out a box of unopened cigars from the interlayer of the desk, took one out and put it in his mouth, and then stuffed the cigar box into his arms.

Only then did he say with a smile, "Old man, you know my rules, I need to rest for at least three days after a mission. I just hooked up with a girl who touched my heart at the spaceport and you jumped in front of me. How are you going to compensate me for interrupting my vacation?"

"You've already taken my collection, what more compensation do you want?" The corners of the old man's eyes twitched as he watched Singer take away the box of cigars. His fingers twitched for a long time, but he didn't have the courage to snatch it back. In the end, he could only say in a muffled voice.

"Singer, don't you still want to be my resident mercenary? This branch is about to move to a new space station, and I need your help."

"Come on, old man, you know I'm not used to staying in one place. What's more..." Singer paused, raised his head and looked at the sky outside the window. After a while, he said, "My damned master doesn't know when he will appear, and I don't want to be discovered by him that I'm slacking off. If he knows that I dare to be unambitious and stay at the station, I swear my legs will definitely not see the sun the next day."

Singer was smiling when he said these words, but the old man keenly felt that his heart was actually very serious.

He was in awe of his master. The old man immediately had this thought. At the same time, he thought that maybe Singer's words were not a joke, and if he was lazy, his legs might really be broken by his master.

Break the legs of a Meteor-level warrior?

Don't... don't be kidding...

The old man's face twitched, but in the end he lowered his head. He glanced at the information on the smart brain in front of him.

"Singer... can you talk to me about your master?"

"No!" Singer refused without hesitation. "This is the twelfth time you've asked me, and I don't want to repeat it a thirteenth time. If you have any questions, you can check with your superiors."

"I wouldn't ask you if I could do it," the old man said irritably. Finally, he shook his head again. "Forget it, I'm too lazy to care about your business, I just want to tell you that a lot of people have been watching you recently. It is said that they are some big families from the Fifth World. They are very interested in you, or rather, they are very interested in the master behind you. You better be prepared."

"Interested in my master?" Singer suddenly laughed, laughed loudly. "That's great, I'm looking forward to the moment they take action. Hmm... yes, I hope they succeed. And I wish them bad luck."

"Aren't you afraid at all?" The old man couldn't understand Singer's fanatical confidence. As far as he knew, those were all powerful forces in the Fifth World, and there were even shadows of the Fourth World behind them. No matter how powerful Singer's master was, how could he resist this force? Could he reach the Meteorite level, or even the Planetary level?

However, Singer didn't care about his thoughts, just grinned and laughed. He seemed to have thought of something fun. After a long time, he stopped laughing and raised the cigar in his hand to the old man.

"Okay, now that the small talk is over, what's the matter this time?"

"I need you to carry out a dangerous mission." Seeing Singer become serious, the old man could only put aside his distracting thoughts and pushed a light screen over.

"A reconnaissance mission, the location is the Ghost Domain."

"A secluded kingdom of mutants."