The Branded Female Fencer

"Can I help you, sir?"

"That's a cluttered plan, Dorn. This won't please the boss."

"? What about you?

Dorn set himself up for words that came out of the mouth of his lowest surname. There was no way anyone who knew that name could have been just a small name.

"Who are you?

"It doesn't matter, like who I am. More than that, you don't seem to understand the boss's heart correctly. The boss doesn't want such a stale and incomplete plan."

The lowest surname speaks with his hands wide open.

"Okay? The elders want a fully harmonious war. Chaos will be good too. But they must be the chaos we want and plan. We are the rulers, not Arnelia, not to mention the Magic Church, not to mention the kings of nations. We must be the rulers!

To do so, we must also take control of this war. It's not enough to unleash those aliens. It's Louis with that ice blade out there. With just a dozen aliens, she'll somehow end up. We need another idea. "

"Another idea?

"Yes, another idea."

At that moment the appearance of his surname swayed in an instant. Dorn got much better, but the lowercase moved so much faster. He was stabbing something like a syringe in Dorn's belly. And my last name whispers softly to Dorn.

"Stay put, don't move"

Dorn's expression took the place of surprise, and he realized his body wouldn't move. One fingertip doesn't move, even to resist. Dorn thought. Rumors of the best assassins who belong to our organization. Any assassination must succeed and leave no trace. And kill people with one whisper. That alias is definitely...

"Wi, spar"

"Did you know you're an executive candidate, too? You're right, I'm called by that name. Oh, by the way, this body and face are borrowed. Definitely, this body belongs to the lowest surname that serves Pfeiffer. It uses medication and allusions to give a bit of complicated support, so it works pretty well as I intended, and although the movement itself is far superior to a regular person.

And from here on out, I'll let you compartmentalize. It is true that unexpected forces have moved in this operation, making it excessive in your hands. I have some sympathy, but I can't have thrown out any modifications to the plan along the way. You are no longer an executive. I'll have you disappear here, I hope, but I'll give you your last job. "

Whisper injects the drug into Dorn's belly. At that moment, the pain, heat, and pleasure that was intolerable to Dorn's body ran.

"Oh..." Yeah. ”Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"You will lead the aliens to Vesel. I need you to carry out your own plan until the end."

As Whisper unplugged the syringe and left Dorne, Dorne collapsed to the spot as he had been commanded, and began to roll around on the spot scattering diarrhea. And then he glances at the momentum that just broke his spine on the spot, and his body begins to deform.

"Woo woo woo woo... what... boo"

"We have injected you with a highly complete liquid that is not what you received. This can take no time and create even more advanced individuals. Well, assuming this happens, I deliberately gave you a drug solution that takes time to complete... because the executive promotion exam is not easy and boring.

But in a few minutes, you won't even remember my words. Instead, you will gain immense strength. That's what can destroy even one country, "

But as Whisper's words had not been heard, Dorn's body had already begun to change to alien form. An enlarged muscle was appearing out of his body and regenerating as he collapsed his body. Forced to bring suffering that would probably be intolerable, was Dorn in such a mood?

Whisper speaks to the darkness as he sees it.

"Number 4, number 6"

"Here."

I get a reply from the darkness and ceiling. Even naturally, Whisper ordered.

"No one should know about the Dorn. It's for that Phoenix Chamber of Commerce, of course. Let's get rid of all those parties with Pfeiffer."

"What about the mercenaries out there?

"You don't have to finish them off. But traitors, if there is a gap, end it. I have someone to meet."

[]/(exp, adj-na) (1) (uk) (uk) (uk)

Nos. 4 and 6 heard nothing else and disappeared. And Whisper, who appeared to be the lowest surname, sat down in front of the Dorn, who was deliberately deforming its body.

"I'm not moving here for a moment."

And he was hardened on the spot, as he told himself. But it was clear that it would not take a moment for the Dorn to deform and crush the body of the lowest surname.

Continued