On the quality improvement of Omega agents

"Uh……"

There are no street lights in the dark alleys, the ground is uneven, and the garbage cans emit a disgusting smell of something rotting.Someone really vomited violently. The blond-haired man propped up the dirty wall with one hand, bent his body, and retched again and again.He didn't eat anything, the spirits he drank earlier rolled up from his stomach, with a strong smell of alcohol and stomach acid, which brought another burst of nausea.

Randall frowned.The alcohol kept burning the tail, and the esophagus felt like it had been corroded, with needle-prick pain, and the man's slender fingers almost dug into the cracks in the brick-built wall.His other hand supported his knee, trembling slightly as if unable to bear the weight of his body, trying not to fall down.The liquid with a sour and bitter taste was all vomited out until there was nothing left to vomit, and he even tasted a trace of rust in his mouth.Randall bent his body, the pain in his stomach made it difficult for him to straighten up, the inexplicable pain spread all over his body, the man raised his hand and rubbed his stomach vigorously, the taste left in his mouth made him try hard to restrain himself A round of retching.

The time is 01:30 o'clock at night.

Randall straightened up slowly, his hands were still holding the wall, the dust was deeply embedded in the nails, the heat of the palm seemed to be of no help to the churning in the stomach, and the empty stomach was still tightening intermittently, as if being squeezed An invisible hand kept twisting and pulling.Even the stomach seemed to be aching.Randall cursed in a low voice, he tentatively let go of the hand supporting his body, shook it slightly, and then slowly smoothed out the wrinkles on his clothes, and then slowly walked out of the back alley of the bar.The light of the moon shone on the blond man's face, making him pale and frightening.

The owner of the small hotel who heard the noise opened his eyes in a daze——it was the late returning foreigner again.The blond man's complexion was not good-looking. When he walked past the bar, he smelled heavily of alcohol. He walked quickly, but his figure was not steady.The boss stopped him: "Sir."

Some stiff English made Randall reflect for two seconds before turning around. The blond man looked at him in confusion, "Is there something wrong?"

The hotel owner said: "Someone came to see you tonight."

Randall raised his eyebrows. Even though his face was pale, the man still carried some invisible pressure. He asked, "Who?"

"A foreigner, he asked me if there was an American with blond hair and blue eyes living here," said the innkeeper, "and they looked anxious."

Randall narrowed his eyes slightly, he suddenly smiled and said softly, "Thank you."

The innkeeper looked at the blond man who was still a little weak and tired just now, as if he had changed in a few seconds, his eyes were full of cold vigilance, like a head raised because the wind suddenly lowered the miscanthus and looked around vigilantly. of large beasts.The owner of the shop twitched his lips twice, but said nothing.

Randall glanced at him indifferently, then turned and went upstairs.

The innkeeper's words have already revealed flaws. He said that someone came to ask, and said that "they" were very anxious. Although they didn't show nervous expressions, it was illogical after all.Randall went upstairs lightly, reaching out and taking out the pistol that was not in his waist.

His colleagues must have been impatient with the wait.

5 minute later.

The burly man in a standard suit smashed through the dilapidated wooden window frame on the second floor and fell on the awning downstairs, making a loud noise.Then someone poked his head out from the broken window on the second floor to take a look, the golden hair was still conspicuous in the night.Randall watched the agent hit the fragile shed, twisted in pain, then fell down again, taking the innocent canopy with him, and then there was no sound.He blinked in satisfaction.

The blond man raised his hand to wipe away a little blood from his lips. There was a bruise on his jaw, and it hurt when the back of his hand brushed it.Randall exhaled softly, and he slowly raised his legs and stepped past the unknown agents lying in his small guest room, and went downstairs.

The owner of the small hotel stood stiffly behind the bar as if petrified, watching the blond man step by step emerge from the corner of the wooden floor.

Randall seemed to be smiling: "Thank you for the hospitality these days." He glanced lazily at the little boss, who trembled nervously.

"If anyone comes to ask me again, just tell him, take me to say hello to the chief of the special division."

The blond man showed a playful smile, and the innkeeper was taken aback.Then he watched the blond man leisurely disappearing into the night outside the door.

——I'm afraid there will be a period of restlessness recently.

at the same time.

In the back alley of the small hotel.A petite figure was standing in front of the mess.

Amanda stepped over the scattered debris and the broken awning, squatted down and pressed the neck of the agent lying on the ground, it was warm and had a pulse.The female agent blinked her eyes, and her lips curved into an arc similar to a smile.Her teacher was merciful, even for the agent who was responsible for "cleaning up" him, a defector.

The female agent stood up swiftly, turning around and walking away like the unconscious agent lying in the mess.

cia task force.

Bruce looked at Rot with a cold expression: "I think the effect of your experiment has been fully reflected in Breakpoint No. [-]." The black-haired man raised his jaw slightly and said, "I don't want to risk my agent. .”

Root kept a tepid smile on his face, and he said: "I understand your defense of Breakpoint agents, Mr. Stewart, but this is a joint project between the Pentagon and CIA after all, and there was no major project before Breakpoint. Breakthrough, presumably you are also to blame for your overprotection of the agents."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, he pursed his lips in disgust because of the almost distorted malice in Rott's eyes, and said: "Breakpoint number one can break through the emotional barriers you have formed with drugs, and eventually lead to madness, how can you ensure that others don't Will be ruined by this stupid experiment?"

Rot laughed out loud, "Isn't this what you've always hoped for, to let those dangerous humanoid weapons consume all your emotions and become invincible sharp blades?" He said slowly, his voice like a cold and slippery poisonous snake, "I want to To achieve such an effect, how can we not pay a little price.”

Bruce was silent for a second, and he looked at Rott lightly, with no emotion in his eyes. The beta man forced himself to maintain his composure under this invisible oppression, and cold sweat was already streaming down his back. Sure enough, threatening Bruce Stewart was not an interesting thing.

Then the black-haired man said: "Yes."

Rot bowed slightly to Bruce, and said in his oily tone, "Thank you for your permission, sir."

Bruce gave him a cold look, then blankly refocused on the document in his hand.Rot left quietly.

The office phone rang.

"Sir, the agent's whereabouts have been found." Amanda's voice was on the other end of the phone, "The removal team sent by the department is one step ahead of me."

Bruce's expression was flat, "Are they still alive?"

Amanda over there seemed to be holding back a laugh, and said: "Four minor injuries, one agent had an accident and broke three ribs, and is currently being treated in a local hospital."

Bruce said: "Have you contacted him?"

Amanda paused for a moment, and said, "The agent had already left when I arrived, and he greeted you."

Bruce raised his eyebrows in the empty office, he didn't even know that there was a little connivance smile on his lips.Then said: "Please find him, Miss Amanda."

The female voice on the other side of the phone was a little surprised by this address, but then gave a firm reply: "I will bring the agent back, sir."

Bruce picked up the phone again. He pressed a few numbers and dialed the medical department. "How many reinforcements were taken when Breakpoint [-] left?"

"Sir..." The person in charge of the medical department on the other side of the phone sounded a little surprised, and then quickly replied: "Breakpoint No. [-] took two bottles of hardener, which is enough for a breakpoint-modified agent to last for half a year." time."

"However," the other party seemed to be hesitant, and said: "Breakpoint No. [-]'s dependence on the strengthening agent has not been cured at all, and it may not last for three months."

The light in the man's brown eyes dimmed instantly, and he asked, "What would happen to him without the strengthening agent?"

"The omega that has passed the breakpoint test can't completely get rid of the strengthening agent. Without the support of the strengthening agent, its own functions will be completely disordered, the combat effectiveness will decline, the immune system will collapse, and drug withdrawal reactions will appear..."

Bruce's expression darkened with every complicated word on the phone that represented some kind of bad symptom, but he kept listening.

"What happens if a Breakpoint agent is flagged?"

The person in charge of the infirmary choked on this unexpected question, and then said: "Although there is still a estrus period, the marked omega will be freed from the torture of nature. This rule should be the same for Breakpoint agents. Applicable, it's just that the marked omega no longer has the ability to seduce other alpha targets."

Bruce seemed casual about the "flaw" as he listened to the phone and continued to explain.

"Agent Breakpoint's estrus period will gradually return to normal levels, as long as his alpha is marked, he can pass the estrus period smoothly." The person in charge of the infirmary said.

Bruce frowned, and his tone was a bit hesitant: "Will there be any symptoms if the marked omega is separated from the marked person?"

The other party seemed to be prepared for Bruce's question, and said: "The marks of omega and alpha symbolize a certain connection and commitment, and a relationship has been established both physically and psychologically, so separation will be a painful process for both parties. "There was a pause on the phone: "Omega's reliance on alpha will be strengthened, and a long separation will cause both parties to have emotional..."

The black-haired man suddenly interrupted the other party's explanation, which was full of scientific basis and professional terms. He said, "It means he will miss the other party, right?"

"Correct."

Bruce put down the phone, and he sat quietly. The evening light from outside the window slanted in, and the man's angular profile was coated with a layer of light gold, adding a bit of warmth.Bruce thought of that evening, when he woke up in his living room, feeling helpless anger mixed with some unexplainable emotion. The alpha atmosphere gradually became stronger in the office. The black-haired man opened the drawer as if he had just woken up from a dream, but stopped when his fingertip touched the cold inhibitor needle.He knew something was not the same anymore.

He closed the drawer.

The black-haired man took a deep breath, and he turned the silver ring on his finger, wondering what he was thinking.

Alpha's smell gradually subsided.The clarity came back to Bruce's brown eyes.Maybe that's what's weird about thinking about that guy, Bruce thought, the way the blond guy could arouse his desires so easily, but also hold him back on the verge of losing control.He thought of the agent he had cultivated by himself, the man who was not afraid of death, who liked to disobey orders and act recklessly, and remembered the time when that guy looked at him with the unruly eyes mixed with a little imperceptible dependence, A warmth that has nothing to do with lust suddenly came into my heart.

It was as if there was some kind of magical connection between them.

Will you miss me, Randall.