Delta: Who are you saying has suffered a loss of strength?

Chapter 313 Asthma

In another corner of the world, in an empty office, the atmosphere is completely different.

The room was dark, with only the cold light from the large screen on the wall casting an unnatural blue hue over everything.

The desk was large, its marble surface reflecting light. Several documents were spread out on the desk, and a cup of coffee that had gone cold sat next to it.

A blond, blue-eyed man stood in front of the desk, his hands on the surface, leaning forward, his eyes fixed on the screen on the wall.

The image on the screen has been paused, frozen at the moment Han Che slid in and pulled away.

It was from a victim's perspective, showing Han Che's body almost horizontal in the air, the gun pointed at the camera, his face expressionless, his eyes locked on the scope.

He was wearing a dark green suit, well-tailored, but this respectability was clearly not maintained.

His face was filled with suppressed anger, and the veins on his forehead were bulging.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, his cheeks were clenched tightly, and his fingers were clenched into fists on the table, making a squeaking sound as his skin rubbed against the surface.

"What a joke!" His voice echoed in the empty office.

With a sudden sweep of his arm, he knocked the documents and the cup of coffee off the table, scattering the papers and spilling the coffee onto the carpet, leaving a dark stain.

"Did you see that? What was that just now?" His voice was hoarse with excitement, and his fingertips trembled slightly as he pointed at the screen.

The assistant standing in front of the desk didn't move. He was wearing a dark gray suit, holding a tablet in his hand, with his head down and his eyes looking at the ground.

He was used to this kind of scene. Ever since his supervisor also had that surgery, his temper had become so unpredictable. He knew that this was how he would react whenever he saw an unpleasant result.

The assistant just stood there, neither speaking nor looking up.

Anderson didn't even look at him; he was still staring at the screen, at the paused scene: "That player, the Chinese player, he's jumping around like a monkey!"

"So many Jokers have died, and yet they killed one of our men so easily!" Anderson's voice grew louder and shrewder.

He was referring, of course, to the Level 5 Armored operator who was killed by Qi Yuzhe.

Those were their people; although they were labeled as members of the Jokers, their equipment and training were provided by the Bald Eagles.

Then, an unknown player from China, with almost no chance to fight back, smashed his helmet and pierced his skull in a second.

"Even though it's a low-power brain-computer interface, it shouldn't be this bad! Useless! Useless!" Anderson's voice became increasingly out of control, his eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils were shrunken.

"I gave you so much money and resources! And this is how you beat me up?"

"Fifteen people can't beat two people with a pig!" He jabbed his finger hard at the screen, his fingernails scraping against the glass, making a piercing sound.

"I...cough cough...uh cough cough..." Anderson was extremely agitated. He suddenly bent over, crouched down, supported himself on the edge of the table with one hand, and covered his mouth with the other.

He coughed violently, one cough after another, as if he were coughing up his lungs.

He was trembling all over, and sweat dripped down his nose from his forehead.

The assistant, who was standing to the side with his head down, heard the cough and quickly stepped forward, taking a spray bottle out of his pocket.

He bent down and handed the spray to Anderson: "Manager Anderson."

Anderson snatched the spray bottle, pinched the bottle between his fingers, and pressed it down hard, spraying the mist into his mouth and nose.

He took a deep breath, and the shaking in his shoulders subsided somewhat.

The office fell silent, with only his rapid breathing remaining.

"Uh...uh..."

After a moment, he finally raised his head, took the spray from his mouth, and gently placed it on the table.

His breathing gradually calmed down, and the muscles on his face returned to normal.

Anderson slowly straightened up, straightened his suit, and smoothed out the wrinkles on his clothes caused by the intense movements just now.

"Go, Cooper," Anderson's voice regained its calm, "activate the brain-computer interfaces of the remaining two test subjects in Dam Zero."

Cooper paused for a moment upon hearing this. "Director Anderson, this batch of operators uses low-power hidden brain-computer interfaces, which do not have the hardware capabilities to activate overload."

"Forcing an overload will cause irreversible damage! It could even affect the brain in the real world, so we should..."

"I said!" Anderson, though not as agitated as before, still interrupted firmly, "Activate overload on them!"

"Now our team only has these two people left, along with a clown gang idiot who got sniped twice in the chest."

"Without enabling overload, there's absolutely no way you can beat those two Dragon Kingdom players... whatever... 78 Club players!"

"Only by activating overload can they have a sliver of hope, at least to avoid a humiliating defeat!"

“But, Director Anderson,” Cooper looked up at Anderson, “they’re in China right now, and they’re broadcasting live. If the overload is too obvious and they get caught, it could be even more disadvantageous for us!”

"Don't worry." Anderson raised his hand and said, "With their type, unless China cracks open their brains, there will be no evidence. Besides, we've already passed the stage where we need to hide."

"You may not know this yet, but the association will reappear in the public eye, and the United Nations, which has always been against us, will stand on our side."

"It's just a little bit short..." Anderson's voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

He then changed the subject, "Regardless of whether we can win after overloading, judging from the expected results, it's already a failure. Everyone's attention is on those two players now, nobody's paying attention to the Joker Gang."

"In that case, let's collect more data, at least just now..."

Anderson pointed to the replay of Han Che's sliding jump on the screen. He slowly replayed it, showing Han Che's body movement from start to finish.

"These two are doing a good job. Take them to the mainframe for analysis, overload them into the brains of those two guys, and let them try it too."

"Yes!" Cooper didn't say anything more. He nodded, turned around, and left the office.

Anderson sat back down in his office chair, sinking into the leather backrest.

He rubbed his temples, then pressed his fingers against them and gently massaged them twice.

He let out a long breath, as if trying to expel all the anger he had just felt, then turned his chair to face the window.

"This is really tough, really tough!" Anderson muttered to himself, spinning around in his office chair. Suddenly remembering something, he took out his phone and made a call.

"The person in charge of things at the Dragon Kingdom Casual Practitioners Association is no longer usable. Let's cut off contact. Yes, and do it cleanly."

After hanging up the phone, Anderson's eyes were icy. "One mishap and we have to cut off a bunch of pawns. What a waste!"

"However, soon, the plan will be just a little bit more complete!" Anderson muttered to himself, a slight smile playing on his lips as he clenched his fist.