Enforcer Manual
Chapter 1008 - 904: To the Departed Spirits

Chapter 1008: Chapter 904: To the Departed Spirits

When Jack Roman woke up, the scorching heat of the desert made his back sting sharply.

His last memory was of putting on the exoskeleton armor and leading the Brotherhood’s ground reconnaissance team as they followed orders to approach the ruins; then, a storm struck them, and they were swallowed up by the tempest like sailors caught in a storm and tsunami, powerless to do anything.

When Jack awoke again, he found himself lying here.

The exoskeleton armor had protected them, but now it was nothing more than scattered broken parts.

The members of the squad he had led were nowhere to be found, and all communication devices had lost signal.

The only piece of good news was that Jack had spotted a village in the distance, and his strong survival instinct made him struggle to crawl up from the ground—he had spent half his life advancing to the upper echelons of the Brotherhood through ruthlessness and mercilessness, and he certainly couldn’t die so inexplicably in the desert.

Go to hell, Death God Crab, go to hell, Divine Artifact.

He didn’t know which neutral station the distant village belonged to, but Jack believed that as long as he was near Oasis, no one would be unaware of the Brotherhood’s fame, and he could easily promise the villagers an unimaginable sum of money.

With that in mind, Jack brushed aside the parts of the broken exoskeleton armor and walked step by step toward the village.

And with that walk, half a day had passed.

When his excitement turned to despair, and he even began to doubt whether the village was just a mirage as people say, smoke and lights finally appeared before him.

The village was filled with a strange fragrance, which, to Jack, who had not eaten all day, was fatally attractive.

He stumbled into the village, and the first thing that caught his eye was a small shop called Old Void Fry, which seemed to be the only store in the town.

The shop was bustling, villagers who had been busy all day gathered here, ordering a few servings of steaming pan-fried buns and their handmade specialty drinks, sitting at simple wooden tables, chatting and passing the time.

You could see this scene at any border station in Oasis, but such a scene gave Jack goosebumps.

Ever since he arrived at the village, there was a strange and terrifying sensation in his chest.

He always felt he had seen these villagers somewhere before, but when he tried to think about it, he couldn’t remember.

Hunger eventually took over.

Jack decided not to overthink anymore, he took a seat closest to the owner. The overly simple menu made him frown; if not for the stroke of misfortune, he would never have chosen to eat at such a run-down place.

The Brotherhood had set up countless luxury restaurants in Lira, spending a lot of money to bring in top chefs from all over to the capital of Oasis.

Apart from kidnapping, blackmail, extortion, and the human organ trade, in recent years, the Brotherhood had also started promoting "high-end consumption," such as the Golden Stone Casino, which they set up specifically for the wealthy dignitaries of Oasis and other Covenant Nations.

Unlike the "refugees," as long as you had a prominent status, you could experience any coveted service in Lira—whether or not it complied with the Covenant Nation’s laws.

The owner of the shop was a middle-aged man who seemed cheerful, and all the villagers cheerfully called him Old Void, which was presumably where the name Old Void Fry came from.

"Boss, what is this place?"

The plate of pan-fried buns arrived, and the savory aroma made Jack feel a bit better about the place.

"Sandstone Town."

"Sandstone Town?"

Jack had bitten into the golden, crispy skin of the pan-fried bun, and the rich juice immediately spread across his tastebuds. The food tasted much better than he had expected, even rivaling the delicacies he had at the high-end restaurants owned by the Brotherhood.

He muttered the name of the town.

He had never heard of this place before, "How far is this from Lute City?"

"Very far."

This was not the answer Jack wanted to hear.

When he asked a question, he expected a complete solution, such as what kind of transportation he would need from Sandstone Town and how long it would take to get to Lute City.

Maybe his misfortune and the eerie atmosphere of the village had made Jack’s temper somewhat milder, not enough to press the owner’s head onto the countertop on the spot.

"What do I need to do to get back there?"

"Sir, you can’t go back anymore."

Jack stopped chewing; he wiped the grease that had stained his hands and stared intently at the busy middle-aged man, the atmosphere suddenly tense.

He was waiting for the man to make a reasonable explanation.

Otherwise, the Brotherhood’s "Pig Pen" was always welcoming to able-bodied individuals like him, and with the owner’s skill, he was unlikely to be reduced to being torn apart for organs.

But the owner was unhurried and continued, "Guest, since you mentioned Lute City, you must have heard about the missing person cases that have been making waves recently, right?"

"Have you been to Lute City?"

Jack responded with a question of his own.

He certainly knew what the missing person cases in different cities of Oasis were about.

Biopharmaceutical companies needed a large number of "volunteers" for their research, and the Brotherhood provided them with the residents’ information. The companies would then select participants for their drug trials based on this data.

As for the whereabouts of these "volunteers"...

He could only say that every success was built on countless failures, and after experimental failures, the "volunteers" were sent to the desert.

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