“According to the relevant laws and contracts, you all need to pay me a certain amount. I’ve already posted the bill over there, so I hope everyone can fulfill it as soon as possible.”

“Of... course...” The security squad captain squeezed out the words through gritted teeth. His heart was bleeding—upper management would definitely dock their pay. Who told them that it was the “money vampire” hunter dealing with the robbers instead of their own security team?

Just then, all the signal receivers and display screens in the control room began to go out of control.

“There’s an external signal!” a crew member shouted.

As soon as he finished speaking, powerful rhythmic music began to play.

Six heavy, cannon-like beats sounded in succession, following a certain rhythm, interspersed with music like a string of beads. The data and images on all the electronic screens in the passenger ship pulsed to the same beat. The previously noisy crowd in the cabin instantly fell silent, a bewitching force spreading with the music, making everyone’s heartbeat nearly synchronize. The music, carrying a strong and commanding presence, gradually became ancient and distant, like a sharp blade piercing through every space.

Audio interference, signal assimilation!

This was the first time Brian Clark had experienced something like this in person. He’d only seen it on TV or read about it in magazines before, but experiencing it firsthand was far more shocking.

The hunter group’s prelude signal music, the group anthem, was a symbol, just like the hunter group’s insignia. Each sub-fleet under the hunter group had its own distinctions—for example, the six heavy beats just now meant it was the Sixth Vanguard Sub-fleet.

A starship instantly appeared on the display screen, and above it, a huge dagger-shaped cursor appeared, with the number “6” next to the dagger.

The Sixth Vanguard Sub-fleet!

“Oh, my ride is here. Sigh, I was planning to take the passenger ship.”

Dylan Smith sounded regretful, but his expression was smug, making the security team wish they could just deal with him with their guns.

Suddenly, a face with a flamboyant smile appeared on the control room screen.

“Vice-captain, do you want a pinpoint teleport or are you coming over yourself?”

The security team was furious, glaring fiercely at the person operating the passenger ship’s control room. That person looked innocent—the other side’s remote control of the ship’s display screens was so fast, there was no way to stop it.

“Nonsense, of course a pinpoint teleport. Oh, and set it for two people, I’m bringing a kid over.”

Brian Clark had a bad feeling.

After shouting at the screen, Dylan Smith turned to look at Brian Clark.

“Hey, Brian Clark, come take a stroll on the ship with your big bro.”

A white light enveloped the two of them, and in the blink of an eye, they disappeared from the control room.

The security squad captain’s face was gloomy as he said to the person at the console, “Pull up their information from the passenger ship!”

“Um... all the data, information, and video about those two have been deleted.” The operator was trembling.

“Useless!” The security squad captain smashed the chair next to him with a punch.

Everyone hung their heads, grumbling inwardly: Those are Vanguard people—how could we possibly deal with them?

On the other side.

After being teleported onto the Sixth Vanguard Sub-fleet’s starship, Brian Clark said to Dylan Smith, “I still have luggage on the passenger ship.”

Dylan Smith didn’t care: “Anything left in the cargo hold isn’t important. It doesn’t really matter to you.”

Just then, a voice called out, changing pitch as it came closer.

“Vice-captain, you’re finally back!” A figure rushed over like the wind. Just as Brian Clark thought he was about to witness a subordinate welcoming his superior home, the next words came out bluntly: “Where’s the stuff?”

Dylan Smith seemed used to this, directly tossing over five boxes, including the big one Brian Clark had seen before. The boxes were made of special radiation-shielding material, and the contents were probably some kind of energy source.

After securing the five boxes, the person cheerfully turned to leave.

“Hey, hey, Carrie Smith, what’s the rush? Didn’t you see I brought a guest?” Dylan Smith grabbed Carrie Smith’s ear, but there was no blame in his tone.

Carrie Smith bared his teeth, signaling Dylan Smith to go easy on his ear.

Brian Clark knew that this was Carrie Smith’s deliberate disregard—until you earned their recognition, they wouldn’t show you any respect.

Balancing five boxes in one hand, Carrie Smith freed the other, rubbed his ear, and then extended it for a handshake, his face wearing a formulaic smile, completely lacking the sincerity he showed Dylan Smith.

“Hello.”

A handshake.

Chapter 9 The Sixth Sub-fleet

Carrie Smith was not as polite as Dylan Smith. Meanwhile, Dylan Smith stood by, grinning, enjoying the show.

Brian Clark smiled and extended his hand. “Hello.”

Neither side introduced themselves. Then, undercurrents surged.

As soon as their hands clasped, Carrie Smith began to squeeze.

Thirty percent strength, forty... all the way to eighty percent. Carrie Smith started to wonder if the hand he was gripping was made of some special alloy—damn, it was hard! Instead of making the other party suffer, his own hand was starting to ache. What hit Carrie Smith the hardest was that the other party wasn’t even trying, just letting him use all his strength.

Brian Clark was secretly shocked as well. Another A-level genotype! When did A-level genotypes become so common?! No wonder the four great hunter groups are the four greats!