On the quality improvement of Omega agents

"All right."

The blond man adjusted the position of the newly changed gauze with his fingers, watching the blood color being covered up.he whispered.

Bruce, who was sitting on the sofa, smiled: "Thank you." He decided to pretend that he didn't see the huge bow tied with white gauze on his shoulder.

Randall glanced lazily at Bruce, he stood up and said condescendingly: "Then I hope you disappear from here after you have a good rest, it shouldn't be an unattainable request, right?"

Bruce shrugged his shoulders, and the wound on his shoulder made him frown indistinctly, "If you want me to go back to the CIA now and let the Pentagon investigation team chase after my ass to find out why the agents responsible for eliminating you are all dead."

The rude wording of the CIA senior officer made Randall raise one eyebrow. He stared at Bruce coldly for a few seconds, seeing the tense expression on the other side's face because of the pain. He picked up the table from Bruce The bullet and blood-stained gauze were taken out of the shoulder, and then turned and walked away.

Bruce was comfortably handcuffed on the sofa. He looked at Randall's back, and the corners of his lips curved.

The living conditions of his agents were poor, and Bruce looked around.He was brought here by Randall a few hours ago, half-backed and half-struck, and his agent rushed to treat his wounds, and Bruce didn't have much chance to observe this place.

A cheap rental house facing the street, the windows were boarded up to prevent curious prying eyes from outsiders.The furnishings in the room are simple, a sofa with exposed cotton, a small coffee table, and an old-fashioned refrigerator not far away.Bruce exhaled slowly.The blood loss might have made him weak, but it didn't hinder his keen observation skills.Bruce went over and pulled open the refrigerator.

—he wasn't surprised by what he saw.

There were three assault rifles hanging on the side door of the refrigerator. The parts package of the sniper rifle was neatly placed in the freezer. A large pile of grenades occupied the freezer. The scope was obliquely inserted where the drink should have been placed.A small bottle of milk is squeezed into a large pile of boxed standard bullets.

"It's not polite to snoop into someone's refrigerator the moment you walk in, Bruce."

Bruce turned slightly sideways, and the blond man leaned against the doorframe leading to the bedroom, looking at him lazily.

Bruce left the refrigerator full of weapons open, and smiled at Randall: "Spent all the money on this? You live in this kind of place?"

Randall shrugged nonchalantly, and said, "Oh, I can live anywhere, trust me, Bruce." He wobbled over, walked around Bruce, and took out the The poor pot of milk came, and then he closed the refrigerator: "But these things are the capital to keep me alive."

Bruce gently stopped the blond man as he walked back around him, "It's a joy to be alive, but I thought you wanted more."

Randall's footsteps paused, and he showed a smile: "Are you making a promise to me?" He lowered his head slightly, and the man who held him still wore the ring on his finger, and the silver light had never been so bright. Dazzling too.

Bruce was silent for two seconds as he watched Randall pull his arm away.The black-haired man smiled, and said, "I've never loved anyone before."

Randall raised his eyebrows, and he unscrewed the can of milk and took a sip, "It's summer, you saw the refrigerator too, it can't be plugged in, so I can only drink it right away." The blond man raised his hand and waved towards the bedroom : "Just one bed, I can rent it to you."

Bruce listened to his babbling, his expression was still calm and gentle, he waited for Randall to stop, and then said: "Listen to me, Randall," the black-haired man's face was a little pale due to blood loss, but his tone was persuasive: "I Tag you, Randall, you're not just my responsibility."

As strong as he is, he will not mark an omega just because of responsibility and favor.Bruce has always been a smart person, he can make cold decisions, and naturally he can figure out what he wants in a short loss.

Randall wasn't his responsibility, maybe it was, but it was far beyond his control.No responsibility is inescapable.

"Are you implying something, sir?"

Randall spoke abruptly. He changed the address of the man from his name to his position. The blond man still smiled lazily, but his expression was the kind of casual suspicion that Bruce was familiar with.

"That's not a hint," Bruce said.

Randall licked his lips lazily. There was a faint glint in the blond man's eyes. His voice was soft: "I know I'm not, Bruce. I've known it since I saw you a few hours ago." He whispered He smiled and said: "You are right, I do want more, and this probably requires you to think carefully."

He blinked playfully, and said, "Before that, it's better for me not to go back, for the benefit of both of us."

Bruce raised his eyebrows slightly, this action finally made his expression a little dangerous, the coercive aura of the superior flashed for a moment, and was taken back by the black-haired man.

"I accept your suggestion."

Randall grinned, poured the milk down his stomach, and turned into the bedroom.Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly behind him, and there was a cold smile in his brown pupils.He moved his arm a bit, the pain in his shoulder was still there but it didn't interfere with his movement.Bruce's eyes flicked to the medicine kit lying on the table.

After a while Randall came out of the bedroom, holding the crumpled blanket in his arms, and threw it on the sofa.

"That bed is yours, Bruce, don't get blood on it."

Bruce glanced at Randall for two seconds. The blond agent had already laid down on the sofa neatly, and then quickly covered the old woolen blanket over his body and pulled it up to the top of his head. Only a bunch of blond hair was exposed, messy outside the blanket.

So he didn't see the almost doting smile of the black-haired man.

And even Bruce himself didn't know how "terrified" his expression was at the moment, he just felt himself smiling unconsciously, and then walked into the bedroom.

There was also a blanket thrown on the bed, which was also tattered and thicker than the one on the sofa—suitable for people who had lost blood.Bruce lays down and pulls the blanket over himself.

The bed was so hard that you could hear it creaking when you moved it, but Bruce was used to it.He took a deep breath, subtle, like the scent of his agent.Bruce laughed a little, closing his eyes.

Randall had an unpleasant dream.

He was staggering up from a patch of snow, pain was coming from every part of his body, and Randall heard himself gnashing his teeth.Bruce stood across from him.The dark-haired man had no expression on his face, and his brown eyes watched his movements coldly.

It was the cruelty that Randall was familiar with.

He heard Bruce's voice, flat, like a sigh.

"You are no longer my responsibility."

And his eyes remained indifferent.

"But feelings are not what we exist for."

He watched Bruce raise his hand, pointing the black muzzle at himself.

"You will be a weakness, a loophole, a weakness, and you cannot exist."

He said.

Randall found himself shaking unconsciously, some poison called fear running through his veins.He tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Bruce took a deep look at him, and Randall looked straight back. He tried to be calm, but he was almost crazy to find a trace of emotion in those brown eyes.

but.

"boom!"

The gun went off.Something hit him in the chest, and Randall felt himself fall, the weightlessness palpitating.He fell on the snow, the bright red liquid gradually spread, Bruce walked over slowly, his leather boots creaked on the snow, making his heart twitch.

Randall raised his eyes, he felt suffocated, felt the salty blood choking into his throat, he stared blankly at the approaching man.

Bruce's voice was calm and cruel, without the slightest ups and downs.He said.

"I figured it out, and I'm sorry, Agent."

Randall snapped his eyes open.He breathed heavily, his blue pupils constricted in the darkness, and it took him a few seconds to realize that he was staring at the mottled and cracked ceiling above his head.He sat up, and a nauseating feeling rose from his stomach quickly. The blond man tried to stand up, but he tripped over the blanket wrapped around him and nearly rolled to the ground.Randall tore off the thin blanket angrily, the nausea was overwhelming.

"--Well……"

Bruce snapped his eyes open in the darkness.He was a light sleeper, and the abnormal sound in the living room made him realize something was wrong in the next second.Bruce sat up, and he threw off the blanket and went down without shoes, the slight coolness of the floor seeping through.Bruce walked out of the bedroom without a sound.

The blond man was half-kneeling beside the sofa. He retched constantly, and his body trembled so much that the naked eye could see it.The worn blanket hung comically on him, forming a strange shadow in the darkness.Bruce walked over slowly.

Randall leaned on the sofa with one hand, retching, but he couldn't spit out anything, and the sour taste brought another nausea in his mouth.The faint pain in the abdomen intensified, Randall gritted his teeth, and the creaking sound of his teeth seemed to form a huge roar through the skull.

--damn it!

There was a faint sticky feeling on his lower body, which seemed to be getting worse. Randall didn't know what it was, but he instinctively had an ominous premonition.his child.

Pain, vomiting, Randall struggled to stand up, and the powerlessness made him curse in his heart.

It seemed that someone had actually cursed.

Not his voice.

The blond man raised his head, his slightly dilated blue pupils did not see the person clearly.A black figure stood beside him, moving before Randall could speak.

Randall only felt a tingling pain on the side of his neck, and then the world spun.

He couldn't stop his body from falling, and the blond arched his back as hard as he could, trying to avoid his belly as he hit the ground. ——Although this little protection is just a drop in the bucket for the precarious little cub in his womb.

— not the ground.

What followed was not a cold hard floor, someone caught him, sub-human body temperature, hard chest and shoulders, but Randall knew it was an embrace.It was just his last cognition before he passed out.The blond man closed his eyes, and his unwilling mumbling gradually died down.

"...Damn Bruce, I gave you the bed and you still scolded me..."