The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

When Watson walked out, the gatekeeper looked at him with a bit of disdain, and his expression was almost asking him why he was so fast. Watson almost couldn't help but ask him back, "Would you be happier if I took longer to do it for your sister?" But thinking about the situation of this family, he didn't say it.

Not too lazy to explain.

That I was just chatting with your sister?

What if the other person's train of thought turns to "I've given you the money, do you think my sister is dirty?" That would be even more difficult to deal with. Most adolescent boys aged 15 or 16 are stubborn and sensitive, and who knows what words will irritate them.

The bald fat man across the door was also a disabled person like Beltway, but the former had an arm blown off. Although his daughter and wife were forced to sell their bodies to make money, he didn't want the women to accept any clients or be exploited by those unscrupulous pimps, so he simply took care of it himself.

From a man's perspective, Watson didn't know whether he should admire him for being able to do this.

But after getting on the jeep, Watson turned his thoughts to Dasha's uncle who sold arms on the black market. The girl said that her uncle was suppressed, which was probably related to the recent intensified armed conflicts. War means the need for arms, and most of the rebels and extremists cannot produce them themselves, and not every gang can get the secret support of some evil countries, not to mention that making bombs also requires raw materials.

Every arms dealer would want to take advantage of the opportunity to make a fortune. If the business scope had not expanded to this area, Ophelia would have considered whether she could get involved. How much money can she make by keeping an eye on Sokovia?

Pulling out a satellite phone, Watson called the intelligence team in Mrs. Viper's voice.

They arrived a few days earlier than himself and had already set up a work network, but after all, their expertise was not related to his, so they did not get much information.

We have to find a way to recruit a few professional intelligence personnel.

After the call, Watson couldn't help shaking his feet.

There is still a great shortage of talent under my command.

These guys are good at fighting, but not very good at anything else.

Fortunately, in a few months, the higher education institutions in North America will usher in the graduation season. Every year, everyone counts on this large wave of fresh blood. These young graduates who have received deep ideological brainwashing, professional knowledge learning and systematic skills training are undoubtedly the new generation of Hydra inheritors and the backbone of the future.

People who are truly talented and perseverant, like John Garrett, who joined the group halfway, can become small leaders through their own hard work even if they do not go to school for further studies.

It’s a pity that life requires a bit of luck.

Therefore, the academic school wins because it has a high upper limit and a high lower limit.

Because Hydra won't spend a lot of money to train a waste.

Being able to enter a higher education institution means that you have already survived several rounds of screening for ability, quality and talent. What's more, what kind of organization is Hydra? If you enter the school, but do not work hard every day, fail every exam, are physically weak and cannot transfer to field work, and have no contribution value, then the higher-ups may choose to kill you.

By the way, hold accountable the unlucky guy who hired you in the first place.

The Hydra trainees who successfully graduated have naturally been tested in terms of their abilities, qualities and loyalty. They are loyal, obedient and easy to use.

Ophelia loves to order people around.

Other things aside, being able to recruit a dozen graduates who have received intelligence training means at least he won't have to worry about intelligence work now. Loyalty is also a very important point. Who would like a traitor to appear in their team? Hydra is a large organization with a long history of development, so there are indeed all kinds of people.

Some people are for Hydra's ideals, some are loyal to a specific Hydra leader; and those who join in halfway, like John Garrett, basically have their own little calculations, and mutual exploitation is more suitable to describe their relationship with Hydra.

So considering loyalty alone, the academic school is already in a very good category.

Although...the academic school is also divided into different levels.

Watson was thinking about Hydra while staring out the car window in a daze until a figure approached and attracted his attention.

"what's up?"

He rolled down the car window and looked at the boy in the cotton hat approaching him.

"Your friend is asleep, sir, but he can't sleep in that room." The boy's tone was obviously much more polite. It might be because Dasha just told him the reason why Watson left so quickly. "We have a separate room for him to sleep in. He often sleeps there. Just help us move him there."

"Okay." Watson went to the back of the car to get a roll of nylon rope, followed the boy back to the house, and saw Beltway in the room on the right side. He was sleeping soundly on the bed, and the woman who had just finished with him was dressing him. He didn't know if it was out of habit, but Watson always felt that the woman's movements were a little too gentle.

Could it be that the relationship between these two people has gone beyond the physical level?

Is it inappropriate to treat a married woman?

...Forget it. Given Beltway's physical and mental condition, he shouldn't care so much. His family didn't stop him, so why should I worry about it?

After tying him up in several directions with nylon ropes, Watson straightened his waist and carried Beltway on his back. His relaxed posture surprised the people in the room. When he threw the guy into the bed in the corner room, Beltway was still talking in his sleep. Watson could only run back and forth to get the gun that the other party had left in the original room.

This room is smaller now, but it has all the necessary facilities, including a urinal. Maybe the previous occupant was an elderly person. He took a last look at Beltway, not wanting to smell the strong smell of alcohol, and was about to walk out the door. Unexpectedly, the man suddenly trembled, and in a daze he reached out to Watson, calling out dryly, "... Watson?"

"What? You want some water? It's on the bedside."

"No, come here..."

Beltway frowned tightly: "I have something..."

"Go ahead." Watson squatted down in front of the window.

"I'm only telling you, cough cough... I won't tell anyone about you and Dasha, and you don't tell Ghost about it, understand? That guy will definitely laugh at me, I don't want him to hear it..." The man propped himself up and coughed, took a few breaths, and lay back weakly.

"First, I didn't sleep with Dasha, we just talked for a few minutes, and second, you continue."

Watson rolled his eyes.

After listening to Beltway's request for a few minutes, he agreed and let the other party have a good rest. But when he walked through the living room, Watson couldn't help but look at the young woman. She was indeed very attractive and at the golden age of a mature and charming wife. According to the Slavic standard of early adulthood, this woman might not have been 18 years old when she gave birth.

In any case, Beltway begged him not to tell Ghost, for fear that he would laugh at him for having feelings for such a woman.

......I said that your relationship is not just a physical one.

Sitting back in the car, Watson waited boredly for several hours while the snow continued to fall.

The sun had already spread over the entire village. Watson looked at his watch and took out a new phone from his luggage bag in the back of the car. He searched through his notebook and found a number he had never dialed. After a long beep, the phone was connected: "Who is it?"

"Yuri Vostov?"

"It's me, who are you?"

"This is Deathstroke. We dealt with the Federation on a cargo ship off the coast of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, if you remember." After Watson finished speaking, Yuri on the other end of the phone was silent for a long time: "Um... Sorry, do we have any unpaid bills?"

"No, I'm looking for you because I received an order. Someone hired me to take his head." Watson slowly read out a name: "He is a dealer under your command. You are trying to dominate the arms trade business in Sokovia recently, and he is mainly responsible for the specific work."

"...Okay, I roughly guessed who hired you." Yuri understood immediately and asked quickly: "How much did they pay you to do it? I'll give you double... no, I'll give you triple. Hey, listen, we've done things together, you know me, don't you?"

"That's not how I do things, Yuri."

Watson took out his gun and twirled it nimbly in his hand. "This is not about money. I don't make my contact information public. Strictly speaking, I never take any jobs publicly, or I just do it out of interest. So the orders I take are basically personal. Once I agree, I won't regret it."

"Then call me..." Yuri paused for a moment, then asked: "Hey, I know you don't have to make this call, you can just shoot him, so what do you want?"

"Let me get this straight. It's a multiple-choice question. Do you want to eat more in Sokovia..." Watson looked at the snow on the roof: "Or do you want to eat more in Chechnya?"

The breathing on the other end of the phone suddenly slowed down.

......

Watson's days in the village of Wallachia were peaceful.

Everyone is very happy.

He did not go to that house with Beltway again, and concentrated on communicating with the intelligence team he sent. As expected, these guys got some intelligence, but the useful content was relatively little, not as much as the information he got from a phone call with arms dealer Yuri Vostov two days ago.

Yuri certainly knows a lot about his dealers, and he knows even more about his competitors in Chechnya. So when you encounter difficulties and problems, as long as you find the right person, you can always quickly find an efficient solution.

Compared to Sokovia, the scale of Chechnya's business is indeed several times larger.

If the dealer is gone, he can find another one. They are not related, but the interests are the top priority. In addition, after seeing the record of Deathstroke holding a destroyer alone, arms dealer Yuri quickly sold the guy in his hand. In addition, the two also reached a consensus on the additional cooperation. Yuri is responsible for providing equipment and intelligence, and Deathstroke is responsible for the assassination.

Eliminate his biggest rival in Chechnya.

The arms dealers acted quickly.

On the morning of the third day, a transport plane flew over the village and landed at the small airport near the mercenary base. Watson did not let Ghost and Beltway come to see him off. Instead, he waited beside the ferry jeep with his luggage and watched the transport plane getting closer and closer.