Kang, the Risen One, was wearing a funny Boy Scout uniform and holding a large bag of marshmallows in his hand, looking like he was on a spring outing.
This time, he did come to 'negotiate' with Brandon Mann. At least that's what the task assigned to him said, but Kang Orr didn't intend to strictly abide by it.
He does get a large commission from the Trail Blazers organization every week, and he is nominally working for the Trail Blazers, but the real situation is very intriguing...
Based on Kang Orr's previous dark history, and his public attacks on players, and causing psychological damage to many players that could only be repaired by cleaning memory sectors, Markarian once listed him on the enemy list.
.
But after several weeks of entanglement between the two parties, Con Orr is still an "outstanding" employee of the Trail Blazers. Not only has his salary been increased, but Cathy Walter was also required to issue an outstanding employee certificate with his salary every week at his request.
Among the several problems Markarian is currently facing, who will replace Cathy Walter as Kang Aer's new contact is second only to the task of tracking down Tangji.
Therefore, whether the money Kang Auer received is commission or protection fee depends entirely on personal understanding. At least for Kang Auer himself, the money was completely blackmailed by his skills.
"Hello? Is anyone listening?" Kang Orr leaned against a tree, grabbed a vine and shouted as if he was holding a microphone: "Come out and say hello to daddy, you
Little cutie, otherwise I will be angry!"
But there was silence in the forest, not even the chirping of birds or insects, only the rustle of the wind blowing through the leaves.
"Tsk, I don't like shy children." Kang Aoer threw a piece of marshmallow high and caught it with his mouth. He looked around and chose a place he liked. He took out the camping equipment from his backpack.
Start building the campfire ring.
"Okay, long-term missions should look like long-term missions. Now let's light a fire and find some ingredients to start barbecue!" After the first attempt failed, Kang Aer gave up on building a campfire ring according to the instructions.
I planned to pour a large bottle of gasoline on the pair of logs and light it directly on fire.
But the environment here is extremely humid and not suitable for living at all. The fire burned gently with the support of only dry wood and gasoline, with no intention of expanding the area.
The excitement on Kang Orr's face dissipated little by little, and he began to feel that this forest was full of hostility towards him. In other words, the superhuman who controlled this forest was also full of hostility towards him.
He took out the last thing in his backpack, and then left the backpack on the ground. It was a sharp camp ax of moderate length, hand-forged, beautiful rubber grip handle, excellent ergonomic design, and it looked
It is very suitable for chopping, whether it is wood or limbs.
Corn Orr didn't have much experience with using an axe, but that didn't stop him from using it to accurately cut off one of his fingers, dig a hole in the ground and sell it.
To him, this is equivalent to saving the file here and starting the 'game' again at any time.
Con. Orr walked into the depths of the jungle with an ax in one hand and marshmallows in the other, whistling. For people like him, most of the time, he can find the things and people he is looking for by intuition.
If you insist on asking the reason, he will probably tell you that this is God's preferential treatment to Lezi people, and it is a benign expansion of his abilities.
At this time, the controller of nature that Kang Orr was searching for, the King of Central Park, had just gotten up from the ground to get rid of the influence of the toxin from the Super Golden Bark Tree.
Brandon Mann scratched off most of his face with his nails, and even gouged out one of his eyes. Almost all the muscles used to support the facial structure were torn off, making it look like he was eaten by a hungry brown bear.
It's like licking it once.
The only difference is that the blood he shed has a touch of green as the background color, rendering the blood a strange brown color.
Soon, tiny buds grew in the brown-yellow plasma, turning into filaments to refill the missing parts of Brandon's flesh and blood, and absorbed all the plasma back.
In the end, these filaments were gradually stained by plasma and turned into Brandon's original skin color. From a distance, it looked as if he had never been injured.
But if you get close enough, you can clearly see the rougher fibers of the new skin. Occasionally, a small leaf smaller than a fingernail will grow out and fall off immediately.
Brandon's original beard has also been completely restored, and the dense roots are tangled together, making him look like a ginseng spirit.
Brandon, who had recovered from health, just lay on the ground. It took a few minutes before he stood up and said to himself in a particularly long tone: "How did he do it?"
It took nearly thirty seconds for Brandon to finish these few words, but Brandon himself was completely unaware of his strangeness.
He began to think about how to fight back.
All kinds of strange animals and plants in nature have different abilities. Human civilization is closely related to bionics. As long as Brandon uses his brain, he can always think of something with similar abilities to Tangji, and how nature checks and balances this creature.
of.
Such as hedgehogs or porcupines. After calming down, Brandon began to try to use his natural instincts to fight against Tangji.
Tang Ji himself had already climbed to the third floor of the Metropolitan Museum and found the European painting art exhibition area. The density of plants here was higher. Tang Ji had to wait for the flames of hatred to disperse the surrounding plants before he could advance any further.
The walls that were originally covered with famous paintings from all over the world were now completely empty. The vines had left dank traces on the walls. There were a lot of cracks in the walls, and it looked like they were in danger of collapsing at any time.
The ground is dotted with trolleys used to transport cultural relics, and stacks of famous paintings that have been put into protective containers are piled up there waiting to be seen again.
Mikkelsen once lamented that the Metropolitan Museum even ranked among the world's top 500 companies before the corporate war, and its asset value mainly came from these cultural relics.
But today is different from the past. With the onset of corporate wars, the federation has essentially collapsed, new and old energy companies have split, and the European Union has struggled to survive. The entire world order has changed rapidly in just a few decades, and the value of the entire cultural relics market has plummeted in an instant.
When capital can use simpler and more maneuverable means to plunder wealth, why does it have to bring artists with it?
The first thing to die is not the art market itself, but art connoisseurs and the accompanying cultural circle itself, and then secondary markets such as museums.
In this new order, the more arrogant capital needs artworks that can better demonstrate their existence, rationality, and power. This obviously takes time and needs to be explored by new artists who have grown up under the new order.
To cater.
If I had to count, perhaps the most successful new generation of art at present is Night City.
The reason for its existence, the various collisions and struggles that occurred during its construction, the conflicts between old and new immigrants after its completion, the mixture of smog and vitality, the alternate display of hope and despair, are all playthings in the hands of capital, and all of them are naked
Guoguo is exposed to everyone without concealment. This is the work of art presented to the world in this era.
In contrast, those collected in the Metropolitan Museum may not be used for long. They can only represent history itself and are called old things...
Of course, the "Sunflowers" is different. It is still extremely valuable. It even became more valuable because during the chaotic period of the corporate war, the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam was damaged by war, resulting in a significant reduction in Van Gogh's surviving paintings.
Most of the treasures in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum are still in the stage of maintaining their value, such as Monet's paintings and Gauguin's paintings, but only this "Sunflower" was the original work on display on the third floor, and the rest are
It’s a fake, it’s a tourist’s.
Tang Ji is an old man. He cannot understand the exquisite values behind these works of art. He only knows that these things are almost the same to him now. He can only rely on the names labeled one by one to judge which one is his.
Looking for.
...
"Didn't you hear the gunfire?" Mikkelsen ordered an expensive cup of coffee. This is Fifth Avenue, and everything is expensive, especially when something new has been launched across the street recently, and the surrounding prices have increased by another 2%.
ten.
"He may think that using a gun to cut down trees is a bit cheap." Wang Zhengdao looked at the coffee Mikkelsen invited, and it didn't feel like tasting it at all. The coffee here is said to be pure natural, and it is said to be directly taken from the weird forest opposite.
The cup sells for 350 federal dollars, plus a 50% risk service fee.
It is said that this money will be used to properly compensate the pickers who risked their lives and injuries when they ventured into the jungle to pick coffee beans. Wang Zhengdao was disgusted by this. Haven't they heard the saying that there is no harm if there is no business?
What's more, he had watched the videos provided by Mikkelsen. To be honest, he didn't want to taste anything related to that forest.
"It's been a long time. There's no way Brandon won't have any reaction." Mikkelsen enjoyed his coffee, watched Wang Zhengdao and Vicky looking directly at him, and said, "Don't worry, the ones here are
The coffee beans come from Chile and have nothing to do with the forests there, they don’t grow there at all.”
Wang Zhengdao and Vicky breathed a sigh of relief, but Mikelse immediately said: "But if I were you, I would not try that cup of English black tea, which is indeed fresh tea leaves picked from the forest."
Vicki looked down at her black tea and silently pushed it aside.
"So your avatar will change jobs and follow us?" Wang Zhengdao asked somewhat unaccustomedly.
"To be more precise, I'm following you. I plan to wait for a while before arranging for someone to follow Tang Ji to ensure that the three of us can always be active." Mikkelsen said with a smile: "And you can use you directly.
Call me, it’s hard to explain my ability to you, but you can treat me in front of you as the only Mikkelson, there is no difference between us."
"After I return to the Ark Organization, do I need to take you with me to meetings?" Wang Zhengdao began to have a headache. He knew that if Mikkelsen was willing, he could change the banner of the Ark Organization now. He has this ability.
But being with someone like Mikkelsen for 24 hours, always leaving your back to him? When Wang Zhengdao thought of this scene, he suddenly became alert. He would rather stay here and help trim the green plants in Central Park for free.
.
Just when Wang Zhengdao was thinking wildly, the whole forest seemed to shake. The black tea rippling in the tea cup proved that it was not his illusion just now.
The next second, his eyes could prove that it was not Wang Zhengdao's illusion. Just across the street, the roof of the Metropolitan Museum was suddenly blown away like a pressure cooker. A large number of plants and vines were blocked from the bottom up.
of the entire museum.
Several vines that looked thicker than humans were swaying majestically in mid-air. If you looked carefully, you could see Tang Ji adjusting his landing point in mid-air.
After thinking about it with his not very useful head, Brandon felt that he could solve the problem by relying on his strength. A large number of powerful vines were slowly accumulating power along the tunnels that had been dug underground, and then he struck decisively, ejecting the enemy in one fell swoop.
Walk.
It's not that Brandon didn't want to use cruel methods to deal with Tang Ji, but he was frightened by the inexplicable injuries he suffered before, and just wanted to use relatively gentle methods to eject people from his territory.
But Tang Ji didn't intend to give him this face. He fell from thirty to forty meters in the air, like a sharp sword, directly carrying flames, licking the particularly thick vine from head to tail.
Correspondingly, Brandon also experienced the counterattack of being slapped in the face by vines. The damage still appeared out of thin air, catching Brandon off guard and unable to parry.
Tang Ji, who fell back into the museum with the help of vines, looked at the mess on the ground. The safe deposit boxes he had checked and those he had not checked were mixed together again. He suddenly felt angry, and the flames of hatred almost covered the area.
Doubled in size!
"Where did that pair of sunflowers fall?" Tang Ji shouted loudly as he took out three prelude shots and shattered another tentacle.
Brandon, who was concentrating on manipulating the plants to counterattack, took a break and secretly glanced at a certain painting he had collected in his lair. A small vine gently swept it deeper into the collection.
Some people are not as close to nature as they appear...
Tang Ji solved the plant frenzy in front of him with three strikes, five and two, and cut a bloody path. He jumped out from the side of the third floor near the Central Park, and then started running towards the center of the park.
For people like him, intuition is no longer simply planned as a field as simple as psychological suggestion. It is more like a proof of being loved by the will of the world and a benign extension of the ability to rage...
In short, Tang Ji and Kang Aoer were very confident in this regard, so they started moving in the same direction without hesitation, and there, a certain vegetative person who was not so favored by the will of the world was looking for him doubtfully.
Traces of the invading enemy.
The whole forest was reminding him of the impending danger, but the information fed back by the plants was always a second or two slower than the full sprint of rage...