American comics: Starting from a copycat arms dealer.

Chapter 103 What you carry on your shoulders is not necessarily responsibility!

The task of recruiting biologists was relatively simple. Agent Hill nodded and said, "Understood. I will follow up on this task."

Nick Fury paused, then asked, "How is the construction progress of the space carrier?"

Hill shook his head slightly and said, "Since America fell into chaos, many engineers, weapons scientists, and even the families of construction workers have died in the disaster.

Right now the morale at the space carrier construction base is low and the construction progress has almost come to a standstill.

Even if we want to increase manpower, we can’t do anything. After all, it’s hard to find the technical talents needed to build such a high-tech project among the refugees, so.”

There was no need to continue with the conversation; everyone could hear the implication of Hill's words.

In fact, there are definitely a lot of technical talents in the United States.

But in a zombie crisis, countless technical talents who are helpless and unable to even survive a week will die tragically for various reasons.

In the apocalypse, zombies don’t care whether you are a skilled person or a gangster, they are not picky eaters.

The most ironic thing in reality is that in the apocalypse, technical talents who are not good at fighting die the fastest.

Even the small hooligans have a higher chance of survival than the technical people.

After all, gangsters are used to fighting and violently, and some gang members can even thrive in the apocalypse.

The composition of the refugee camp at the Avengers Headquarters shows the survival rates of various professions from high to low.

The order of arrangement is retired soldiers, gang members, doctors, nurses, workers and technicians.

The survival rate for technicians was only 0.3%.

That is to say, among 300 refugees, there are only skilled personnel.

And not all technical talents are in the field of construction engineering.

even though.

300 engineers are simply a drop in the bucket for a space carrier project involving tens of thousands of people.

There is nothing that black-salted eggs can do about this.

We can still find ways to solve the food problem in the occupied areas. Even if the food storage warehouse in a certain area may be empty, there is always a chance to find other granaries.

But it is not easy to find technical personnel.

America is so big, where can we find high-quality engineers?

Black Salted Egg was silent for a long time, then said, "The space carrier is the last Noah's Ark for mankind.

Once the situation on Earth completely collapses, we can only rely on space carriers to evacuate to the universe and continue to survive.

We don’t have to have this fallback, but we have to have it.”

Hill said helplessly: "I know that space carriers are important, but without enough engineers, space carriers cannot appear out of thin air."

Black Salted Egg stared at Hill with his one eye and said seriously, "Then let Stark design and manufacture an engineering construction armor, and use robots to help build it.

Also, have the captain go to the space carrier construction base to give a speech to boost everyone's morale.

In short, at all costs, the construction of the space carrier must be completed as soon as possible."

"That's fine. I'll go talk to Stark and the Captain."

Hill knew that these two methods sounded a bit unreliable, but given the current situation, this was the best solution.

Then, Black Sauce Egg gave Hill a look, indicating that she could leave if she was fine.

When Heiludan was the only one left in the office, he lay down on his office chair and stared blankly at the ceiling.

That haggard look showed that the king of agents was also feeling exhausted at this moment.

There are many thorny problems that cannot be delayed for a moment, and there are so many problems that no solution can be found. "In this world, there are gods, superhumans, magicians, and inhumans.

Then there must be a God too!
Why didn't God send an angel to eradicate the source of evil in Carl?"

Black-salted egg was so anxious that he started talking nonsense.

----------

A week later.

Umbrella North American Base.

Carl kept his word and sent a helicopter to bring Gwen and her family back to the base on the day the transaction was completed.

Now, in the office on the top floor of the central building of the base, Carl was giving Gwen Stacy a general introduction to the entire base.

Carl sat on the leather sofa with a cigar in his mouth, pointing casually outside the French window. The entire base belonged to him, and he introduced it in a calm tone:
"There are six air defense radar stations and sentry towers at the outermost part of the base, and then there are twelve military fortresses, which rely on the city walls to defend against possible threats."

"The missile defense system is on standby 24 hours a day, 7000 guards are stationed in rotation, and the weapons department is manufacturing munitions day and night."

"One hundred large transport planes come to the base every day to supply it. The total population of the base is more than 30,000. It can be said that this place is a small kingdom."

Gwen, who was also sitting on the sofa, was wearing an off-white women's suit today, with a slim-fitting gray striped sweater underneath, looking simple and professional.

The purple skirt with a slim waist and hip-covering design is elegant and tall, exuding a sense of purity.

Under the skirt is a pair of sexy long legs in black stockings.

At this moment, someone's hand was restlessly placed on Gwen's long black silk legs.

Carl introduced it while enjoying the smooth touch.

Gwen had a blank expression on her face. America was very open-minded about this aspect. It mainly meant that there was no difference between once and countless times.

In addition, her mother and uncle were protected by the base, and with this invisible constraint, she could only get whatever she wanted.

This week, I've tried it in the office, bathroom, bedroom, and outdoor balcony.

Gwen was beginning to get used to the bastard Carl's strong demands.

“So what’s my main job?”

Karl pointed at the uniform on the other person and said as a matter of course: "Of course you are a secretary, or do you want to be the queen of this kingdom?"

Gwen had a straight face, but that soon fell into place.

After a week of "training", her beautiful eyes would be filled with love every time this happened, but she dared not resist.

Gwen tried to calm herself down, telling herself to do her best, and pretended to be calm, "I'm not interested in being a queen, so my position is just the CEO's secretary?"

Carl said casually:

"Yes, you will be my office secretary, personal assistant and long-term maid from now on."

Hearing Carl's blunt words, Gwen rolled her eyes speechlessly. This bastard was really honest!
"So where do I start my work? Where are the files?"

“Your first job is to serve me, the CEO, well!”

As he spoke, Carl pushed Gwen onto the sofa and pulled the black stockings that wrapped her legs.

"Thorn-"

Gwen was pushed down on the sofa, her beautiful eyes began to mist with emotion.
There is an old saying.

What you carry on your shoulders is not necessarily a responsibility!

(End of this chapter)