Cultivating Immortals in Space: Cannon Fodder Becomes a Boss in the Wasteland

Chapter 55 She Has Supernatural Energy Fluctuations? ! (Happy New Year!)
The man's heroic face is close to the characteristics of the Northern Continent.

Let him be as handsome and masculine as the statues of gods in ancient Greek myths and legends.

He looks like he should be under 40 years old.

However, the extremely oppressive eyes and the aura that is not angry and arrogant seem to blur the sense of time in him.

Let him be more majestic than the old man who is an honorary member.

He just stepped into the room, as if the king of the forest had stepped into his territory, taking away all sense of existence.

"It's you..." Seeing the person coming, the old man's expression changed.

Chris's face was even paler, his lower body was limp, and his eyes were filled with horror as he looked at the visitor.

The words are all useless.

"First...First...Master Chief..."

That's right, he was able to get past the veterans who are both the founder and honorary committee member of the group, and who are so detached that even the current committee members don't look down on them, and directly manipulate them in front of their eyes.

The entire Guzman family.

There is only the real controller of the group.

The current leader is now.

"Fernan, what are you doing here?"

The old man stared at the visitor coldly.

After the initial surprise, his expression slowly returned to calm.

The men looked at the checks each other held in their hands.

Then he looked at the empty partition walls on both sides.

Immediately laughed.

"If you don't come again, I'm afraid the entire Guzman Group will be evacuated bit by bit by you old guys."

He glanced coldly at Chris next to him.

The other party scrambled out of the meeting room in fright.

The door closed, and the man's face suddenly became cold, and he asked in a cold voice.

"Who was that person who came before?"

"That's my client, you don't need to ask."

Being questioned by a man like a prisoner.

The old man didn't look good either.

The man's eyes suddenly darkened, his expression extremely cold.

"You old guys are really disobedient. I know that the arms business is your cash cow, but you have to know what you can do and what you can't do. Do you know why the old leader went down?"

"Didn't you overthrow him yourself?"

The old man squinted at him fearlessly, and said coldly.

"Back when you took your father's place and drove us old guys out of power, you made sure that we had no worries about food and clothing, and that our lives were not threatened. Except for rights, there would be no less benefits in the past."

The man sneered.

"I guarantee that you will have no worries about food and clothing, and that your lives will not be harmed. I don't want you to be greedy for the wealth of the ink group and harm the interests of the family!"

"What interests will be damaged? As that Miss Morika said, it's just some broken weapons."

"Even if she didn't return those weapons, didn't we pocket one billion Citicoins, others don't know. You still don't know, based on our supply channels and purchase prices, aren't we still making a lot of money? Why not do this kind of business that is sure to make money without losing money?"

"Besides, I'm just borrowing the name of the group, using my own contacts and channels."

The old man is confident.

For those brothers who have risen from the grassroots, have had enough of life in the slums, have crawled up from the bottom, and licked blood on the tip of the knife.

What they longed for most in their lives was rights.

Without rights, they can only pursue money.

If you can't even pursue money.

He might as well be dead at his age.

The man couldn't help feeling angry when he heard the other party's unreasonable reasoning.

"You have a fart channel?!"

He cursed in pure Iberian.

　Ask for a monthly pass, recommend a ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)