Wishbone is also very poor today [Comprehensive British and American]

"Name?"

"John Cene."

"age?"

"eighteen."

The clerk sitting in front of the computer raised his head, took a look at Bullock, and said matter-of-factly: "With all due respect, you look like 28."

Bullock: "That's 28."

The little Beta stretched out two fingers, slowly deleted the entered number, and continued to ask in a slow tone: "Have you been marked?"

"There have been a few temporary markers and now there are no markers."

"Okay," the male Beta propped his chin, staring at dead fish eyes, "you can fill out the form after printing it out."

Brock stood up straight, without squinting, like a tall and straight old pine tree, which was incompatible with the chattering Omega behind him.

3 minute later.

"Oops," Beta patted the printer, pretending to be distressed, "The printer seems to be broken."

Brock wanted to shove the printer into this Beta's watery head.

He rolled up his sleeves, grabbed the printer, and said viciously, "Let me take a look."

The male Beta stood up happily, took out a screwdriver, small welding tools, some spare parts and a few colorful wires from the leftmost drawer of the desk, and said enthusiastically: "This is a gift when I bought the printer, Can you see if you can fix it?"

"Stay away from me," Bullock elbowed him into a corner, "get in the way."

Brock replaced the burnt wire, cleaned out the clogged ink cartridge, screwed the screwdriver back into the printer's grimy casing, and tugged Beta by the collar to push him onto the creaking chair.

"hurry up."

"Why don't you help me record it," Beta said happily, "You're pretty good."

Fuck you, Brock thought, what a clandestine clandestine organization, what a waste of my time.

So he grabbed the keyboard obligingly, registered all the basic information of Omega clearly within 10 minutes, and then filled out his own form.

"Oh, it will be ready so soon?" The incompetent clerk pointed to the room in front of the right, "Take the form and go in for the medical examination."

After walking for about ten meters, a group of Omegas pushed open the door of the medical examination room and entered one after another. There was only one doctor inside, and the rest were dazzling examination instruments with a cold metallic luster.

The doctor is a blond-haired Alpha, wearing elegant rimless glasses, seeing so many Omegas rushing towards him suddenly, his face flushes instantly.He obviously smelled the end of estrus on Brock, and moved away from Brock secretly.

"Well, you all sit in the scanning cabin one by one, and come to me to draw a tube of blood after the scan."

The top of Bullock's head was already smoking, but for the sake of the 500 medals, he still had the patience to do a physical examination.

Yes, this is a task.

Destroy underground mutant surrogacy dens and recover all mutant genetic data.

This company, under the guise of a legal surrogacy company, has actually been recruiting age-appropriate Omegas to breed small mutants, and after proper training and selection, they will be sold to some illegal organizations that demand it, and they are keen on various genetic experiment.

Bullock was here to interview the surrogate.

Of course, he couldn't really conceive a child, but just used it to penetrate into the organization.

Now that he is in estrus, his pregnancy rate is about [-]%. There is a high probability that he will be able to follow the process and get in touch with internal scientific researchers without any extra waiting. For the imminent competition, it is really a very cost-effective task.

Rollins' pride was hurt, and he vowed to change dormitories, and claimed that he and Bullock would never meet again.

Therefore, at this time, Clint took the shift of a cleaner, lurking outside the laboratory, ready to cooperate with others.

The physical examination was carried out very quickly, four Omegas were found to have taken drugs, and three more were found to have had abortions, so they had to leave in mourning.

"Wait a minute." Just as Brock was about to leave after drawing his blood, the blond doctor stopped him from behind, "I have something to tell you."

Brock's eyelids twitched, and he turned around as if nothing had happened, and stood where he was. The other Omegas were taken away by the security guards after drawing blood one after another.

"Here you are," the young Alpha handed him a one-time injection, "Take it, it will work quickly."

Brock: "...what is this?"

Alpha stared at Bullock with his eyes bluer than the sky, and said firmly: "This is an inhibitor, if you persist, we will rescue you."

Brock couldn't help showing an Omega question mark face.

He said very vulgarly: "Do you know why I came? My mother is here to have children and make money."

"You have been lied to. This is not a serious surrogacy agency. In order to give birth to a child that meets their requirements, they will give the surrogate mother a special drug." The doctor forced the inhibitor into Bullock's hand, "Many people are giving birth died after the child."

"Oh," Brock threw the inhibitor on the table with a look of you being sick, "I have nothing else to do."

The blond-haired, blue-eyed doctor looked at his back and sighed, and lightly pressed the flesh-colored bumps behind his ears.

"Tony, we need to catch time. I found an Omega in heat. He may be sent to the lab soon."

The clerk lying on the table to catch up on sleep yawned lazily, and said: "Understood, give me another two minutes."

He raised his eyes to see that the progress bar on the computer had reached 70.00%, raised his hand and tapped his watch, and summoned the Mark 7 located in the mansion in Manhattan.

Bullock always felt that the blond doctor was talking about something, saying that he was coming to rescue him, maybe he was here to grab business, so he joined the team and followed the tattooed burly man leading the team to the laboratory.

The rest of the Omegas that were closer to the estrus time took the trigger potion and took it with water, and stayed where they were to observe the situation.Those who were farther away were numbered and told to go home first, and report again about ten days before the estrus period, and paid a deposit of [-] U.S. dollars per person.

The laboratory is located underground, and the road is very twists and turns, with a turn of ten meters, and there are many people guarding with guns along the way.

The laboratory is full of beds, and there are many Omegas lying on them. All of them have thin limbs, but their stomachs are terrifyingly big. They look like crude compasses. With a liquid medicine of unknown composition.

Brock, who has seen many dead people, can tell that the bigger the compass, the heavier the dead air on his face.

He couldn't help being a little excited.

This is what it looks like, he thought to himself, the school office really didn't fool me, this task is worth 500 medals.

Then he felt his ass being slapped.

The muscular man asked the doctor in the laboratory for credit with a flattering face: "I received a good product today, and it's just in estrus now. Look at this body, it's very strong." He patted his buttocks again, "Hi! give birth."

Bullock: "..."

The doctor put down the instrument in his hand, walked over to look it over with critical eyes, finally nodded in satisfaction, and rubbed his hands excitedly: "Yes, yes, this time we can breed a little Wolverine, the mothers last time They didn’t survive after being stabbed in the stomach by bone claws.”

Bullock's defamation: I remember that Deadpool was also bred with Wolverine genes, it seems that everyone has a copy of his genes in their hands-so what did that old guy Logan do?

The doctor took Bullock's hand affectionately, and said as he walked, "Come on, let's inject a little stamina potion first, and then we can give the seeds."

Bullock couldn't bear it anymore, kicked the doctor to the door, turned around and punched the tattooed man in the face, knocking out three of his teeth.

He took all the weapons from the tattooed man, picked up the skin-cutting knife on the operating table, and cut off the tattooed man's tendons.

"Clint, get moving."

Clint, who was shoveling excrement in the bathroom opposite the laboratory, heard that it was like an amnesty, so he started to fuck the guy and crawled through the ventilation duct along the location of Brock on the communicator. The two successfully reunited in the laboratory.

Brock turned the knife in his hand, and glanced coldly at the doctor who just got up from the ground and wanted to slip away.

The doctor is an excellent scientific research talent, very knowledgeable about current affairs, immediately raised his hands, and said cooperatively: "Don't kill me, what do you want? I will tell you what I know."

"Notify outsiders not to come in, and find out all the mutant genes for me." Bullock stretched out his hand and grabbed the doctor's collar, and punched him again on the face that needed to be punched.

The doctor seemed to be used to strong winds and waves. After being threatened by violence, his hands and legs did not tremble. He quickly ransacked the laboratory, carried a large plastic box on his back, and followed Bullock, making a shabby rattle as he walked. Voice.

Just when Brock and Clint were getting ready and wanted to fight their way out, to the surprise of the three, the outside of the laboratory was empty, not even a ghost.

Instead, there was a faint sound of firefighting outside.

After thinking about it for a second, Bullock felt that this must be the work of the blond doctor who came to snatch the business.

"Protect this idiot," Brock patted the doctor, and raised his chin at Clint, "he's worth 250 medals."

After speaking, he took the lead and went out to investigate the situation.

Sure enough, outside there was a robot with a golden-red color scheme and a blond man with a big chest holding a shield, fighting lively with a group of security guards and guards.

An expert can tell with just a few glances that these two uninvited guests are very skilled, and they must not confront each other head-on with their burdens.

Therefore, Brock aimed at a fork next to the firefighting site, and after a few seconds of estimation, he felt that he could retreat from there. Even if the robot and the blond man found them, they would not be able to catch up with the security guards for a while.

As for the security guards, they are a bunch of trash in Brock's eyes, no more useful than Clint and Rollins.

He didn't look back, and waved to Clint behind him, meaning to let him bring the doctor over quickly.

After a while, there was no reply.

Brock raised his eyebrows and was about to lose his temper, but found that there was no one behind him.

He had to turn back to look for the traces of Clint and the doctor, but found Clint in a corner with a confused face.

He said tremblingly: "From the corner... an iron hand stretched out, stretched out, and dragged the doctor away. I couldn't find it no matter how I looked for it." He opened his mouth, and saw He was about to howl, "Tell me, you said that this place has killed so many people without conscience, could there be ghosts..."