Samuel naturally had absolute confidence in his own product. But after giving his answer, he still hesitated and wanted to keep trying to persuade Killian. After all, scientific research was the kind of thing that could be affected by too many outside variables.
"I trust you."
Killian answered with only those four simple words, yet they left Samuel frozen in place.
At that moment, Samuel felt gratitude surging endlessly through his heart. Calling it overwhelming would not have been an exaggeration. He had never expected his boss to trust his answer so completely that he would personally risk his own safety because of it.
After all, what company boss would do that?
Even when using something developed by their own relatives, most people would still insist on countless rounds of testing before putting it into actual use.
But his boss?
His boss had merely tested it briefly, then decided to go out personally with three monsters of terrifying combat power.
What kind of trust was that?
At this moment, Samuel felt as though he had seen God.
"Boss, let me go with you."
In the next second, Samuel spoke to Killian in an extremely firm tone.
He looked as if, if Killian refused to take him along, he might just smash his head to death on the spot.
Faced with Samuel's determined expression, even Killian could not help being momentarily stunned. But soon afterward, he looked at him with approval, patted him on the shoulder, said only one word, "Good," and walked out.
Not long after, a convoy sped away from the island laboratory and headed straight for Miami.
...
Meanwhile, deep in the mountains, inside an abandoned wooden cabin...
"Boss, why do you think a company as huge as Pioneer Technology was only transporting a few tiny medicine bottles?"
"Didn't we rob them for nothing?"
Inside the room, one masked robber removed his mask and spoke in frustration to the man lying on the sofa with his eyes closed.
"Yeah. We were expecting another truck full of phones. Or at the very least, one of those projection devices."
"Pioneer Technology's products are selling for astronomical prices on the black market now."
Another robber sighed and joined in, clearly imagining that if they had managed to steal that kind of cargo, they might already be rich beyond their wildest dreams.
There was even a saying spreading through the underworld now.
If you wanted to rob something, robbing gold or antiques was nothing compared to robbing Pioneer Technology products.
"Enough. Stop talking."
"I'm thinking right now that these little bottles definitely aren't as simple as they look."
"Use your idiot brains for once. If they were really just a few harmless little vials, then why would those useless cops be searching the whole city like lunatics?"
After unlocking his phone and reading the message one of his subordinates had sent him, the gang leader who had been resting with his eyes closed suddenly sat up and barked at the others.
"Maybe these little things will make us even more money."
As he said that, he kept turning the green vial over in his hands.
He had just received word from one of his men still in the city. Right now, the entire city was full of sirens. The police were acting like madmen, raiding and searching every gang force they could find.
Anyone who resisted was met with gunfire on the spot.
They had even requested helicopter support.
Every bit of that told him just how valuable the thing they had stolen really was.
At that thought, the man suddenly seemed to remember something. He pulled out his phone and called an unmarked number.
"Fisher?"
As soon as the call connected, the person on the other end responded in disbelief.
"Who else would be using this number?"
The man called Fisher, leader of the Skull Gang, replied with an amused smile.
"Heh. You're pretty optimistic. The police are going crazy looking for you right now, and you still have time to call me?"
"Say what you need to say quickly, or I'm hanging up. I've got no interest in dealing with police who've already gone blood-red with rage."
After finishing his mocking tone, the man on the other end quickly turned impatient.
Even though only an hour had passed, for both the criminal underworld and the authorities, what had happened was no less than a major earthquake.
After all, the target had been Pioneer Technology, the ironclad partner of the U.S. government and military, a company many people were already calling the next Stark Industries.
Sure, people joked that robbing Pioneer Technology was better than robbing gold, but anyone with half a brain knew which of the two was the safer choice.
And yet Fisher, that hard-headed lunatic, had actually gone and done it.
"I've got hold of something from Pioneer Technology. Looks like some kind of medical serum. I need you to find a buyer and move it for me. Same rules as always. You take thirty percent."
Fisher spoke slowly and calmly, completely unaffected by the other man's urgency.
The reason was simple.
The person on the other end was one of the best-known black market brokers in Miami's underworld. His entire business was moving stolen goods. He did not care where the goods came from. As long as they came to him, he would find a way to sell them.
Whether it was jewelry or gold stolen one second earlier, it could all be moved through his hands.
Of course, jewelry meant he took fifty percent, gold meant forty percent, and everything else was thirty.
"Thirty? Make it fifty, or there's no deal. Go find someone else."
"Right now, in all of Miami, maybe even all of America, no one is crazier than me. Trust me, no one else will take your goods."
At that moment, the man bared his fangs and immediately named his terms.
And as he said himself, to survive as a black market broker, you needed nerve, your own intelligence network, and strong enough connections.
Before all this, he had not really had the first two.
What he did have was madness.
No matter what you stole, he would sell it.
And because of that, when other brokers refused to touch certain stolen goods, most robbers would come to him.
That was how his reputation had grown bigger and bigger.
And because of it, he now maintained dozens of secret locations throughout Miami. No one knew where he might be hiding or how many backup sites he still had.
Hearing the man's demand, rage surged into Fisher's chest.
To rob Pioneer Technology's shipment, he had not only traveled from far away, but had also spent a fortune buying intelligence on their transport route before making his move.
And now, after all that investment, this damned vampire wanted to make half the profit just by reselling it once.
If the man had been standing in front of him right now, Fisher swore he would have made his asshole kiss the barrel of his shotgun and taught him exactly what it meant to burst wide open.
(End of Chapter)
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