American comics: Starting from a copycat arms dealer

The task of recruiting biologists is relatively simple. Agent Hill nodded and said, "I understand. I will follow up on this task."

Nick Fury paused and asked again, "How is the construction progress of the space carrier?"

Hill shook his head gently and said, "Since the United States fell into chaos, many engineers and weapons scientists, and even the families of the construction workers, have died in the disaster.

Now the people at the space carrier construction base are demoralized, and the construction progress is almost stagnant.

Even if you want to increase manpower, you can't do it. After all, it is difficult to find technical talents required for the construction of such high-tech projects among refugees, so."

There is no need to continue the rest of the words. Everyone can hear what Hill meant.

In fact, there are definitely many technical talents in the United States.

But in a zombie crisis, countless technical talents who are powerless can't even survive for a week, and they will die tragically for various reasons.

In the end of the world, zombies don't care whether you are a technical talent or a gangster, they are not picky eaters.

The most ironic thing in reality is that technical talents who are not good at fighting die the fastest in the end of the world.

Even the survival probability of gangsters is greater than that of technical people.

After all, the gangsters are used to fighting and fighting, and some gang members can even thrive in the end times.

From the composition of the refugee camp at the Avengers headquarters, we can see the survival rate of various professions from high to low.

The order is retired soldiers, gang members, doctors, nurses, workers, and technicians.

The survival rate of technicians is only 0.3%.

That is to say, there are only 300 technical talents among 100,000 refugees.

And technical talents are not all in the field of construction engineering.

Even if.

300 engineers are simply a drop in the bucket for the space carrier project in which tens of thousands of people participate at the same time.

Black braised eggs have no way to deal with this.

The food problem can still be found in the occupied areas. Even if the food storage warehouse in a certain area may be empty, there is always a chance to find other granaries.

But technicians are not so easy to find.

America is so big, where can we find engineers with excellent quality?

Black-Boiled Egg was silent for a long time, and said: "The space carrier is the last Noah's Ark of mankind.

Once the situation on Earth completely collapses, we can only rely on the space carrier to evacuate to the universe and continue to survive.

This retreat can be unnecessary, but we must have it."

Hill said helplessly: "I know that the space carrier is important, but there are not enough engineers, and the space carrier cannot be conjured out of thin air."

Black-Boiled Egg stared at Hill with his one eye, and said seriously: "Then let Stark design and manufacture an engineering construction armor, and use robots to help build it.

Also, let the captain go to the space carrier construction base to give a speech to boost everyone's morale.

In short, at all costs, the construction of the space carrier must be completed as soon as possible."

"Okay, I will go to Stark and the captain to talk."

Hill knew that these two methods sounded a bit unreliable, but in the current situation, this is the best solution.

Afterwards, Black-Boiled Egg gave Hill a look, indicating that she could leave if she was fine.

When Black-Boiled Egg was the only one left in the office, he lay down on the office chair and stared at the ceiling blankly.

The haggard face showed that the king of agents was exhausted at this moment.

There were many thorny problems that could not be delayed for a moment, and there was no solution to the myriad of problems.

"There are gods, superhumans, magicians, and Inhumans in this world.

There should be God too!

Why didn't God send angels to eradicate Carl, the source of evil?"

Black-salted egg was so anxious that he began to talk nonsense.

——————————

One week later.

Umbrella North American Base.

Carl kept his word and sent a helicopter to take Gwen and her family back to the base on the day the transaction was completed.

Now, in the office on the top floor of the central building of the base, Carl was giving Gwen Stacy a general introduction to the entire base.

Carl sat on the leather sofa with a cigar in his mouth, pointing casually outside the French window. The entire base was his kingdom, and he introduced it in a calm tone:

"There are six air defense radar stations and sentry towers on the outermost perimeter of the base, and then there are twelve military fortresses, relying on the city walls to resist possible threats."

"The missile defense system is on standby 24 hours a day, 7,000 guards are stationed in rotation, and the weapons department manufactures arms day and night."

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"One hundred large transport planes supply the base every day, and the total number of people in the base is as high as more than 30,000. It can be said that this is a small kingdom."

Gwen, who was also sitting on the sofa, wore a beige women's suit today, with a slim gray striped sweater inside, which looked simple and professional.

The purple skirt at the bottom, slim waist and hips, elegant and tall, exuding a full sense of purity.

Under the skirt, there is a pair of sexy long legs in black silk.

At this time, someone's hand restlessly rested on Gwen's black silk long legs.

Carl introduced it while enjoying the smooth touch.

Gwen had no expression on her face. America was very open-minded about this aspect. There was no difference between once and countless times.

In addition, her mother and uncle were protected by the base. With this invisible clamp, she could only ask for whatever she wanted.

This week, whether it was the office, bathroom, bedroom, or outdoor balcony, she had tried everything.

Gwen was gradually getting used to the strong demands of Carl, the bastard.

"So what is my main job?"

Carl pointed at the uniform on the other person and said as a matter of course: "Of course it's a secretary, or do you want to be the queen of this kingdom?"

Gwen had a blank expression on her face, but soon broke down.

After a week of "training", she would be full of spring in her beautiful eyes every time she came to this point, but she dared not resist.

Gwen tried to calm down and told herself to be motivated. She pretended to be calm and said: "I'm not interested in being a queen, so my position is the president's secretary?"

Carl casually said:

"Yes, you will be my office secretary, life assistant and long-term maid in the future."

Hearing Karl's words so bluntly, Gwen rolled her eyes speechlessly. This bastard was really "honest"!

"Then where do I start my work? Where are the files and archives?"

"Your first job is to serve me, the CEO!"

Speaking of this, Karl pressed Gwen on the sofa and pulled the black silk wrapped around her legs.

"Sizzle——"

Gwen was pressed down on the sofa, and her beautiful eyes began to be misty with emotion.

There is an old saying.

What you carry on your shoulders is not necessarily a responsibility!