Once again, Pierre returned to Satan's turf through the night, and he knew that he would come. In the dimly-lit room, only the light from the man's cigar kept flickering. When Pierre walked in, Satan was seated on the couch, smoking his cigar idly.

"I didn't think that we would meet again so soon," Satan said, opening his arms as though he was welcoming an old friend.

Although they weren't old friends, they had been acquainted for a long time. Pierre was responsible for weapons development in his base while Satan had been trying ways and means to acquire the weapons from his hands. For many years, they had been pitting their wits and courage against each other.

"Where's my son?" Pierre asked straightaway. There was no point to have any excess chit-chat with him since they both knew what was on the other party's mind.

"Your son is in my hands, but what do you have in exchange for him?" Satan asked with a sly smirk.

Seeing that there was another single-seater couch, Pierre plopped himself on it and asked instead, "What do you want in exchange for him?"

though they were old opponents, they could only guess what the other

It has a further range and is more accurate, the most developed of its kind in the world right now." Pierre snorted. "Looks like you're very

his first finger, Satan said, "No one can be compared

Satan

even after having a good one. But if Pierre pledged his alliance with

that he was actually so ambitious. "Have you heard of a

tilted his head,

sneered. "Aren't you afraid of overstuffing yourself by

he had to pay and take greater risks. He was already leading a life so brutal that just one wrong step would cause him death, but with such a huge appetite now,

term, and it's my business if I can swallow this bite. I don't wish to chat unnecessarily with you, General Fowler. If you're willing to work for me, then I'll return your sor to you safe and sound. But if you're not..."

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