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?"

could only guess what the other

to a new version. It has a further range and is more

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

Satan wanted

the point of having the weapon which was always being updated? A better one would always emerge even after having a good one. But if Pierre pledged his alliance with him, it was as good as owning the entire research and development base, and he would

at Satan, Pierre didn't imagine that he was actually so ambitious. "Have you

tilted his head,

you can chew," he sneered. "Aren't you afraid of overstuffing yourself

and take greater risks. He was already leading a life so brutal that just one

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..." he trailed off. Without the need to finish his sentence,

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