On the quality improvement of Omega agents

The blond man didn't bother to hide his fatigue, he closed his eyes again, let himself gradually adapt to the harsh light, and then turned his gaze back to Bruce.

A tall, thin, black-haired man stood outside the glass cage. His whole body was almost submerged in the dark shadow, and his expression could not be seen clearly.Randall sees only Bruce's brown eyes, bright and deep.

"Oh, sir, you don't know how touched I was when I opened my eyes and saw you." The blond agent made a grateful expression, and he said this in an aria-like tone, knowing that Bruce couldn't hear his hoarse and rough voice friction.

The chief of the CIA looked at Randall's mouth shape, raised his hand and pressed the switch of the glass cage on the side, and the seemingly seamless glass walls slowly slid open to both sides.

The smell of omega slowly dissipated, and the air was filled with a faint sweet smell, which reminded Bruce of sunlight, golden sand, gunpowder and a little blood.The dark-haired man took half a step back indistinctly.Randall watched his movements, and smiled with effort.

The blond agent lay lazily on the spot for a few seconds, then slowly got up.He just felt pain and tiredness as if his whole body was falling apart.The temperature in the glass cage was kept almost at freezing point, and the clothes dangling in tatters from all kinds of bodily fluids that he didn't want to carefully distinguish the kinds were terrible.He felt the unspeakable pain behind him every step he took, and Randall didn't bother to guess what he had done to himself.

Bruce had no expression on his face. He watched the blond man in the center of the glass prison slowly get up from the simple bed as if he hadn't woken up. He staggered towards the exit. The tattered shirt exposed the man's skin, and Randall seemed indifferent to the horrific red bloodstains and black and blue bruises that almost covered his entire body.He staggered on his feet, but his face was full of smiles, tired and happy.Bruce's gaze moved to the man's upper abdomen, where there was a not-so-shallow gash, the flesh was rolled up, the blood was no longer flowing, and it looked rather terrifying.

"I didn't expect to see you, sir," he said.

Bruce watched Randall almost stumbled out of the transparent prison, and the blonde agent slowly approached him with the smell of omega that hadn't dissipated.

Bruce finally spoke, responding to his agent's greeting: "Good morning, Mr. James."

Randall grinned a goofy grin.He said slowly: "It's a pity that I don't feel anything but tired now, but if you want other services, that's fine." He lingered meaningfully between Bruce's waist and legs .

Bruce raised his eyebrows, and he looked at the blond agent coldly: "You shouldn't use this to belittle yourself, or insult me, agent."

Randall stuck out his tongue indifferently. At this time, he didn't care about provoking Bruce. The blond man's eyes turned back and met Bruce's brown eyes. He didn't know if it was because of the deliberately lowered temperature. Suddenly, he trembled slightly.

Bruce narrowed his eyes.Randall is a strong, good-enough agent, there's no question about that, and his Kingsman is as weak and tired as a child at this point, all fangs and claws temporarily disabled.

Like the dirty and messy snow field a long time ago, his agent was still a thin, unawakened omega, with wrists so thin that protruding knuckles could be seen, and blood stains on the brow bone.

Bruce sighed suddenly.He reached out and wiped away the traces of Randall's mixed tears and blood, with a little force, but the blond agent didn't shy away from his touch.

Randall blinked slightly, and he looked at Bruce.The man quickly withdrew his hand, but the little warmth between his fingers stayed on the blond man's skin like a magic.Randall laughed again.

"Sir, I'm back." He paused and said, "I'm sorry for letting you see that."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, he looked a little absent-minded, "I know." He said to his agent: "I am your officer, Mr. James, you should remember this." In all your situations, I should Know.

Randall curved his lips playfully.

Bruce doesn't look at him.The huge exhaust fan at the top of the room was constantly spinning, casting ever-changing shadows on the ground.Bruce seemed to be staring at something in the void, silent for a moment.Randall remained quiet, only hearing a slight rapid breathing.

"Sir," Garcia walked in, and she handed the things in her hand to Bruce, looking at Randall sitting next to her chief, with a moment of surprise.The female soldier glanced at the officer, turned and left.

Randall froze inappropriately when Bruce tossed him the blanket, and he laughed, "I don't remember you being so considerate except when I first met you, sir," he said. While wrapping the furry blanket around himself, the fine fluff swept over the exposed skin, Randall shrank his neck a little unaccustomed.

Bruce looked at him indifferently: "Because you are as weak now as you were then, Mr. James." He said, his eyes swept over the gray-colored lips of the blond agent.The child in the snow and the tall blond man at this time have always been the same person.

Randall smiled so hard that his eyes were bent, and there was a little inexplicable light in his blue pupils. He said, "I thought you had forgotten, sir."

The dark-haired man looked nonchalant, "You're my agent, Randall James."

He was hand-picked, trained by himself, the best special agent in this place, the sharpest weapon.And most importantly, Randall James, belongs to Bruce Stewart.

The blond agent was taken aback by the officer's sudden words.He looked at Bruce who was standing beside him. The man was tall and not considered strong. His figure cast a deep black color on the ground.Randall suddenly said: "You haven't changed at all, sir."

Bruce curled his lips.He said, "You too, Mr. James." The senior officer of the CIA uncorked the glucose bottle, stuffed the round, smooth glass bottle into Randall's hand, "drink it."

The blond agent really took the bottle of glucose like a child who was reprimanded for failing to let his parents know because of his illness.He took a sip, then curled his lips: "It's not sweet enough."

Bruce glanced at him indifferently, ignoring his suddenly childish Kingsman.He took something out of his pocket, put it on the table beside Randall, then turned and walked away.

The blond agent blinked. He looked at the back of Bruce leaving, the man's black windbreaker swaying behind him.Randall chuckled softly, turning his head to look at what Bruce had placed beside him.

——A few beautifully packaged fudge, the color of the candy wrapper is so bright that it is outrageous.

"Oh, sir, I'm really moved to tears this time." The blond man muttered, he grabbed a candy, peeled off the wrapping paper and threw it into his mouth.

The sweet and sour taste spread in the dry mouth, Randall smacked his lips, and then narrowed his eyes happily.The warm blanket fell from his shoulders, and the blond agent raised his mouth as he stood up and folded the blanket.

A few doctors from the medical room—perhaps it is more appropriate to call them researchers, rushed in quickly, bringing their portable examination equipment.A white coat loads the shiny needle into the syringe.

Randall waved his hand impatiently: "In vivo experiments are not available, not today." The blond man held the somewhat funny little blanket with light blue patterns under his arm, and was about to walk out.

The white coat blocked his way: "Breakpoint No. [-], for your own life and health, I hope you can cooperate with the examination in the infirmary. Your physical condition needs to be summarized immediately so that we can give you the best treatment."

Randall laughed, and this time the man's laughter carried a terrifying, menacing tone.

"I don't remember when this experiment can be called 'treatment'?" He emphasized his tone: "I don't have any problems that need your 'treatment'." Dispersed, coupled with the faint smell of blood, made him smell terrible, the black shadows under the eyes and the messy and dull blonde hair all showed the exhaustion and overdraft of this man, but obviously, he could still make anyone feel Danger and fear, if he will.

The white coat couldn't help but took a step back, momentarily at a loss for words.He should not forget that even if claws and teeth are cut, a beast is still a beast.

The white coat tried to hide his panic as much as possible, watching the blond man take another step towards him, and raised his jaw slightly.Randall was tall enough that he looked down at the poor technician and noticed the secret clenched fist. "You don't have the authority to order me, doctor." He whispered into the white coat's ear.

Randall showed an unexpected smile lazily. He walked a few steps, then turned around suddenly, pretending not to see the uncontrolled retreat of the researchers, and gave them a fake smile. "Oh, remember forgetting something," he said.

Then a group of white coats looked at the exhausted but still unscrupulously strong blond-haired agent who turned back, and with his messy bloodstains and dried body fluids, he strode towards the glass cage, and then— —

Grab a few candies that are on the side of the prison.

Randall shrugged at the idiots standing in the middle of the room staring at him.Holding those fruit candies from Bruce in his palm, he said lightly, "Good day, gentlemen."