Before Alex's face disappeared again through Sarah's armlet, his voice spoke firmly and seriously, "Once everything is taken care of, you should come back first. I will handle what comes next." His expression was grave, as if he had made a decision, and then the communication screen disappeared.
Sarah looked at the vanished screen, her face involuntarily showing confusion and worry. Alex's words made her feel a hint of unease, as if Alex was about to make a significant and dangerous decision. Her mind was filled with question marks, but now was not the time to ask.
At this moment, Jim outside the door suddenly began to vigorously pound on the clinic door. Shortly after, the sound of several cars racing towards the clinic could be heard, cutting through the silence of the slum. The distinct sound of the engines left no doubt that it was the group known as the "cleaners" - a team specializing in handling all kinds of "dirty work." Their arrival meant that a thorough "cleaning" was about to take place inside and outside the clinic.
Sarah immediately walked to the door, opened it, and saw Jim standing outside, with several black cars slowly coming to a stop behind him. As the car doors opened, several men in dark uniforms, expressionless, stepped out. They were carrying various toolboxes, looking professional and ruthless.
"Finally," Jim said in a low voice, his eyes revealing a hint of relief, perhaps anticipating the end of the chaos.
Sarah nodded, feeling even more curious and uneasy about Alex's words about "handling what comes next." But for now, she knew they needed to stabilize the current situation, creating the best conditions for Leo's safety and recovery. As the cleaners entered, the night in the slums seemed even heavier, and the future of the Valkyrie team was full of unknowns.
Jim leaned against the door, his eyes filled with disdain and provocation, watching the group of cleaners filing in. They were all dressed in identical cleaning uniforms, wearing face masks, and beneath their cold exteriors, they concealed a sense of cold-bloodedness and professionalism towards their "cleaning" work.
Among the cleaners, one in particular stood out, wearing a uniform with prominent red stripes, the leader among them. His steps were firm, his gaze icy, as he walked directly towards Sarah, who was sitting in a chair. His appearance carried an undeniable sense of authority and indifference, as if his eyes held only the mission, indifferent to everything around him.
Sarah felt the gaze of the head janitor and lifted her head slightly. Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze. The head janitor didn't speak a word but communicated with his eyes, as if inquiring or confirming something.
Jim's provocation didn't elicit much reaction from the janitors. They seemed accustomed to this "clean-up" and showed no emotional response. The professionalism and coldness of this group made even a mercenary like Jim, who had experienced countless life-and-death battles, have to admit that they were indeed experts in handling this kind of "dirty work."
As the cleaners began their work, the entire clinic was quickly under their control. They worked efficiently and silently, cleaning up the bloodstains and bodies in the hallway, each movement appearing particularly skilled and composed. Jim leaned against the door, a contemptuous smile on his lips, but inside he was filled with anticipation and a barely perceptible tension for the impending "clean-up" result.
The lead cleaner stood in front of Sarah, his voice emanating from deep within his heavy face mask, a distant and inhuman whisper that seemed to come from a summoning in another world. He straightforwardly inquired, "Miss Sarah, are you the person in charge of this commission?" His tone was devoid of any emotion, like carrying out a routine task with merciless indifference.
Sarah nodded gently, affirming her own identity. The leader continued in the same calm and steady voice, "We will first scan the biochips of these bodies. As they belong to the government-wanted Baobao Gang, once their identities are confirmed, we will compensate you according to the agreed conversion rate. The amount will be calculated in the previously agreed upon five thousand Star Alliance coins. Do you have any objections to this?" His tone revealed a commanding certainty, as if anticipating the other party's helplessness and acquiescence.
Sarah quickly calculated in her mind that while this income couldn't fully cover their losses, it was still a substantial compensation. She glanced sideways at Jim and Emily, who seemed to be waiting for her decision. In the end, she nodded slowly and accepted, "We have no objections."
The head cleaner heard Sarah's confirmation, but there was no change in expression. He simply nodded and then turned to direct the other cleaners to start their work. The whole scene was dominated by a merciless and mechanized efficiency, with each cleaner moving quickly and precisely, checking each body without hesitation to confirm their identity.
As the scanners in the cleaners' hands emitted sharp beeping sounds repeatedly, each sound seemed to silently declare the flow of money. Jim stood aside, surrounded by smoke, and with a smirk, half jokingly and half sarcastically said, "Do you hear that sound? That's the symphony of coins dropping into the bag." The smoke wafted around his face, adding a touch of recklessness to his words.
Emily, facing Jim's frivolity, seemed somewhat helpless. She waved her hand, trying to dispel the unpleasant smoke, and responded discontentedly, "Be serious, Jim. Besides, look at these cleaners. The bounties they've scanned from each corpse exceed 5,000 Star Alliance credits. In any case, it's clear that these people have made quite a substantial income from evaluating the value of the deceased." Her tone carried a deep disgust for this life-and-death trade, maintaining a basic reverence for life even in such chaotic times.
Sarah, quietly observing on the side, couldn't help but feel a sense of lament as she watched the cleaners mechanically carry out their work. The scanning of these biochips transformed once living individuals into numbers and money, a transformation that made her feel both realistic and cruel. She knew deeply that on this planet, the rules of survival were often far more complex and merciless than they had imagined.
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