Chapter 296: The Formation of the Twelve
They arrived at a massive hall where dozens of people were gathered. In total, there were twelve groups consisting of ten people each. Alexander was the sole exception, standing alone, while the men who had walked in with him took their positions at the front, forming up beside one of the other teams.
"Welcome," said Harrison, stepping up to the center of the platform to face everyone. "All twelve new captains have been deployed to my sector. I am Harrison, Logistics Supervisor for Sector 01. Originally, there were only supposed to be eleven of you, but we had a last-minute promotion, so I apologize for the delay."
Harrison paused, sweeping his cold, sharp gaze across the ranks.
"I know many of you climbed the ranks back on Earth to become regional managers or high-tier regional supervisors," Harrison continued. "I also know that being sent here and having your status demoted to mere field captains might feel like a personal insult to your pride. If any of you feel that way, you are welcome to raise your hand right now."
Upon hearing his words, five of the men raised their hands, glaring at the supervisor with arrogant, defiant expressions.
Harrison looked them dead in the eye, a faint smirk touching his lips.
"Excellent. I see we have five formal complaints," said Harrison. "I can only tell you to take those objections and shove them up your ass. Now shut the hell up and listen to the briefing if you don’t want to die today."
"As you all well know, this isn’t a daycare and I’m not your damn mother," Harrison continued, crossing his arms as his cold gaze locked onto the rebels. "Out here, if you want something, you earn it. You five looking at me with those bitch faces and wearing those pretty Silver-class suits... step up front."
The five men exchanged smirked glances, stepping forward without a single shred of respect. One of them spat onto the floor as he walked up, measuring Harrison up and down.
"You think you scare us, old man?" one of them sneered, cracking his knuckles. "I’ve put down guys twice your size back on Earth. I was a regional supervisor over there, not a dog you can bark at."
"First thing this morning, I passed shit bigger and tougher than you, asshole," another blustered adjusting the sleeves of his sleek silver uniform. "When we get back, I’m going to make sure they strip that worthless badge off your chest."
Harrison didn’t even blink. He simply turned his eyes toward the rest of the crowd and spoke in a calm, icy tone:
"Pay close attention, everyone else... I’m not wearing a body armor suit, correct?"
Before the last of the five could react, Harrison moved.
It was a burst of raw, inhumane speed. In a flash, he closed the gap and drove a punch directly into the throat of the man who had just threatened his rank. The sickening crack of fracturing cartilage echoed through the hall as the man dropped to his knees, clutching his neck and choking on his own blood.
Without breaking momentum, Harrison pivoted on his heel and launched a devastating knee strike into the second man’s face, shattering his jaw and sending him flying several feet backward. The remaining three frantically tried to react and reach for their sidearms, but Harrison was already on top of them.
He snatched the third man’s arm, snapping it at an impossible angle with a loud, dry crunch before slamming his head face-first onto the concrete floor. He buried an open palm into the fourth man’s solar plexus, driving the air out of his lungs and knocking him unconscious before he even hit the ground. The last guy tried to scramble backward in terror, but Harrison grabbed him by the throat with a single hand, hoisted him up to eye level, and violently whipped him down onto the metal platform.
The beating was so savage and one-sided that it lasted barely ten seconds.
Harrison stood tall over the five bloodied, broken bodies, casually adjusting the collar of his shirt as if he had done nothing more than brush off a spot of dust. Not one of the five could stand; they lay on the floor groaning through shattered bones and choked breaths.
"As I was saying..." Harrison said, addressing the dead-silent crowd. "Listen carefully if you don’t want to end up like these idiots."
The supervisor clapped twice. Instantly, the side door opened and several medics dressed in white suits entered the hall. They pulled out small glass vials filled with a translucent liquid and administered them directly to the five fallen men.
Alexander recognized the substance immediately: they were healing potions. However, these appeared to be of vastly superior quality compared to the ones he had seen before. Within seconds, the fractured bones crunched back into place, the open wounds sealed shut, and the men regained consciousness, though they remained on the floor, pale and trembling in terror.
"Good. I hope that serves as a lesson to you all," Harrison said, walking slowly back toward the platform. "In your cities back home, you were used to easily crushing anyone who gave you a dirty look. Out here, you had better not forget that the inhabitants of this world are superior to you in every aspect. Even someone like me is considered just an average fighter here; I’m not part of the elite, which is why I’m only a sector supervisor. But believe me, even as a simple supervisor, I can break the asses of all two-hundred-plus people in this room without breaking a sweat."
Harrison paused and adjusted the holographic terminal screen behind him.
"Now that we’re done with the demonstration, I’ll tell you where you’re being deployed," he continued. "Just like on Earth, TMC maintains branch offices and outposts across various regions of this world, operating alongside local forces we’ve managed to ally with. Starting today, you must remember that you are the face of TMC. Your decisions will affect us all. Where you’re going, you are the bosses; there will be no one above your command in the field. You were chosen because you earned it. You were chosen because we trust in your capability."
Hearing those words, the vast majority of the captains puffed out their chests with obvious pride, feeling recognized by the corporate elite.
Alexander was the only one who didn’t react. He knew well that he hadn’t earned this spot through merit or the executive board’s trust; this was a trap orchestrated by Julian to send him to his death. However, seeing that this covert execution came packaged with resources, authority, and such high status left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.