Chapter 1082 Brand Effect

Boluogo unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle, rinsed the water through his hands, rubbed his palms vigorously, and washed away the layers of blood until his original skin color was revealed.

After cleaning his hands, Boluogo unscrewed another bottle of mineral water, took some water, and wiped his cheek repeatedly. The blood stains hanging on his face faded away, like faded paint, dripping. The ground dripped.

After a simple cleaning, Boluogo felt a little better. The feeling of being covered in blood was not good. At first, it felt like his whole body was covered with sticky sweat, and his whole body felt sticky. After the blood dried, it felt like Large chunks of mud were stuck to his body, and his behavior was full of strangeness.

If the situation allowed, Bologo really wanted to take off his shirt, kick the fire hydrant aside, and clean himself up against the water. The throat of the swallowing abyss was too big, and the blood on his body was as much as a mobile blood bank. , gushing endlessly.

Before doing this, Bologe would definitely do this, but now it is different. Bologe is the one with the highest glory. To a certain extent, Bologe represents the Bureau of Order.

Just like a brand effect, in order to maintain the brand of the Bureau of Order, Boluogo needs to maintain his strong and decent side in the public...at least in front of internal staff.

"To put it crudely, it's just - show off!"

Nathaniel explained to Borogo what he needed to do in an extremely simple and crude way.

This absurd conversation took place not long ago at a high-end dinner party in Oath City Opos.

The dinner was hosted by the Bureau of Order to receive many visiting representatives of forces. As a glorious person, Boluogo also officially appeared in front of everyone through this dinner and was personally introduced by Nathaniel.

Boluogo still remembered the luxury of the dinner. The lights were soft and bright, like stars pouring down, illuminating the entire banquet hall like a dream.

The long table is covered with an exquisite lace tablecloth, with silver tableware and dazzling crystal cups placed on it. The air is filled with the faint scent of roses and precious perfume, intertwining into an intoxicating atmosphere. The soft music flows slowly in my ears, as if it is a melody from another time and space.

The guests were dressed in fine clothes and priceless jewelry. The chatter, laughter and clinking of glasses echoed in the air. The waiters, wearing crisp uniforms, shuttled among the guests, moving lightly and quickly, providing every guest with the most thoughtful service. services.

Burlogo was wearing a tight, straitjacket-like formal suit and a hairdo that was smeared with gel and had been carefully worked on by a stylist for half an hour.

The whole process is like going to jail.

Boluogo didn't feel like he was the protagonist of the dinner. It was more like a trial. These people were the judge and jury, and Boluogo was the criminal who was being scrutinized by countless eyes.

As for Nathaniel, Borogo thought he might be his defense attorney.

In short, Boluogo stood in the center of the banquet hall, and under the guidance of Nathaniel, smiled, said hello, and clinked glasses with the unfamiliar faces.

"So you understand?"

After the arduous and hypocritical social session, Nathaniel asked Boluogo with a smirk on his face.

"Understand what?"

Boluogo's cheeks were slightly red. Since the rainy night revenge a few years ago, he rarely drank alcohol and rarely smoked. He is almost a man without any bad habits.

"I understand why you are here," Nathaniel patted Boluogo on the back hard, "Stand up straighter, raise your face higher, yes, that's the arrogant posture."

Nathaniel said, "You can represent the Bureau of Order now. Your appearance, words and deeds are all related to the attitude of the Bureau of Order."

"Of course I know this truth," Bologo pulled on his tie. It was too tight and Bologo could hardly breathe. "I'm just a little disappointed."

"Disappointment? Which part?"

Nathaniel took a bottle of champagne from the waiter's hand. For high-level sublimation practitioners, alcohol will not affect them at all. As long as they are slightly etherified, they can easily metabolize these things, but Nathaniel obviously If he doesn't do this, others drink for social etiquette, but he really likes the feeling of being drunk.

"What should I say?"

Boluogo thought for a while and looked forward. It was a fountain surrounded by flowers and candlelight. The water sparkled against the light, which was extremely luxurious.

"I don't like this kind of occasion, and I don't like drinking and clinking glasses with a group of guys I don't know."

Boluogo said intermittently, "When I was an ordinary person and a low-level condenser, these occasions had no chance for me. I was very free. Now that I have become a high-ranking glorious person, I control the terrifying power. Instead, I Deeper and deeper in bondage.”

"Don't you think this is weird?"

Nathaniel smiled, showing his white teeth. Many years ago, he had stood at such a dinner party, and he had the same confusion as Boluogo.

"I know what you are thinking, Boluogo. You are a proud and glorious person, but you have to spend your time doing things you don't want to do with these guys."

As if by magic, a shining silver knife appeared in Nathaniel's hand.

He stood behind Boluogo, put the knife into Boluogo's hand, strangled Boluogo's wrist with his hand, and played with it casually.

"Berogo, you are the one of glory, at the top of the food chain, the master of the world, of course you can do whatever you want," Naisaniel said drunkenly, "You are very unhappy with everything here, right? Then you can just kill everyone, all the people you are unhappy with."

Berogo was stunned for a moment, turned his head in confusion, looked into Naisaniel's eyes, and knew that he was not joking.

"Are you unhappy to see him?"

Naisaniel did not pay attention to Berogo's sight, but raised his hand and pointed the table knife at a middle-aged man in the distance.

"Actually, I don't like him either... I don't like the color of his tie."

"Are you drunk?"

"No, I'm sober. I'm a glorious being, just like you, who can do whatever he wants," Naisaniel said, pointing to the next person, "Or should I kill him? When he clinked glasses just now, the wine splashed on me. Should that be a reason to kill him?"

Nisaniel muttered a lot of weird reasons like a murderer, but fortunately his voice was very low, and only Blogo could hear these crazy words.

Suddenly, Naisaniel's tone became rational, and he let go of Blogo's arm and took the table knife from his hand.

"Look, Blogo, you are actually very free. You have the ability to break free at any time, but you are willing to be bound by some morals, etiquette and other things."

Nisaniel flipped his hand, and the table knife disappeared without a trace in his hand.

"If we want, I can turn this place into a slaughterhouse and send everyone's head back to their hometown to warn those forces and let them see the consequences of making the Order Bureau unhappy."

"This can indeed solve the problem, but it is a bit too barbaric and brutal, and the most important point is..."

Berogo continued Nathanir's words, "It is too inefficient."

Nathanir agreed with a look of understanding, "Yes, it is too inefficient."

"Using violence to control others is indeed very effective, but it is also inefficient, so we need some hypocritical means that are not so violent but still show our own strength, that is, socializing, this dinner."

Nathanir narrowed his eyes, "It is better to argue at the table than to fight on the battlefield, right?"

Berogo agreed with this sentence. He is a person who has truly experienced war. Berogo knows very well what kind of place the battlefield is.

Thinking of this, Berogo looked at the luxurious dinner venue again, and he suddenly felt that everything here was not so annoying.

"Power and responsibility are related," Nathanil said, "You used to be a nobody, but now you are a big shot."

"Big shot?"

Berogo laughed at himself. This word unexpectedly didn't fit him, but he pressed it together.

"Do I have to become a savior after gaining power?" Berogo talked to himself in his heart, "This sounds like a moral kidnapping."

"No, it's not like that at all," Berogo asked himself in his heart, "It's because I became a savior that I gained power."

Berogo regarded himself as such a person, so he got everything he has now.

"It seems that I still have a lot to learn," Blogo sighed helplessly, "It sounds really troublesome."

"No, not too much actually," Naisaniel reminded, "The Order Bureau is not short of logistics personnel. They can take care of troublesome things like socializing. You just need to show your face."

"But the key lies in the part of showing your face."

Nisaniel finally got to the point and looked at Blogo carefully. "I have to say, Blogo, you are very good at showing your face."

"Be more specific."

"It's probably just putting on a proud and stinky face, keeping a sense of mystery, and making others afraid. The rest will naturally be handled by other professionals for you."

"It sounds like my position is like the stamp at the end of a document."

"Almost," Naisaniel was amused by Blogo, "Don't feel pressured. This kind of thing is simply pretending to be cool."

"Huh?"

Blogo coughed twice.

Nathanir emphasized, "But, this kind of thing also has different styles."

Berogo said, "Just like the nouveau riche and the nobles."

Berogo didn't really know many nouveau riche, but when he mentioned the nobles, the first person that came to his mind was Palmer.

By this analogy, the nobles' style didn't seem to be that strong.

"Yes, but you are different. You don't need any assets or blood to back you up. Your strength is your most solid proof," Naisaniel added, "but as I just said, we need to have some hypocritical and friendly social interactions to show others."

"In this regard, you need to maintain a good image. If you are crazy, it will only make our allies feel uneasy. If you are too polite or even cowardly, they will feel that they are capable of challenging our position."

Naisaniel looked at Blogo's face again, "So in this regard, you are really talented, serious and cold, even your eyes are so just right. God, sometimes I feel that I am despised by you."

Blogo didn't want to explain the contempt.

"Of course, what I'm talking about now is external. Internally, your image is also very important." Nathaniel made a fist and tapped Boluogo's chest. "In the eyes of many employees, you will be their "Hero."

"A leader who is visible, tangible and tangible."

…

Boluogo blinked hard and looked down at the many snacks at his feet.

Putting these things together with Boluogo, it is obviously completely opposite to the powerful and mysterious image of Boluogo created by the Bureau of Order.

Boluogo is thinking about whether to defend himself on the so-called pro-people line.

In fact, there is nothing to defend.

Boluogo hated those red tapes and also hated deliberately pretending to be another powerful and mysterious existence. That was too high and mighty, and more like an unreachable god than a hero that people could touch in the story.

So Borogo listened to Nethaniel's words, but only in part.

"Speaking of which, Nathaniel also told me not to learn from you," Bologo muttered to himself. "He said that if a guy like you becomes a leader, you will definitely get into trouble with your mouth and trigger diplomatic relations. Accidental.”

"Ah? What did you say?"

Palmer had just opened a pack of jelly beans and wondered what Burlogo was suddenly saying.

"Um...nothing."

Boluogo shook his head, stood up, and stretched his body vigorously.

"I have to go now."

Bologo said, walking towards the body in the center of the intersection. His movement attracted the attention of everyone present. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Bologo.

"Done."

Boluogo complained in a low voice. Sure enough, this group of people seemed to be working, but they all kept staring at him with their peripheral vision.

Palmer was so careless that he didn't notice this at all, "Speaking of which, I just wanted to ask, the battle is over, what are you doing here all the time?"

After learning the news here, Palmer was sent to guard the scene to deal with various emergencies. At this time, Boluogo could have left, but he sat in the shadows all afternoon.

"Just guarding the body."

Boluogo first walked to the end of the corpse, stood on the bloodshot spine, and pulled out the resentment bite, and a crisp sound resounded all around.

"Every evil creature in this world has power beyond imagination. Who knows, it is really dead or pretending to be dead. What if it comes back to life?"

Boluogo said, kicking the corpse hard.

There were still too many secrets about the devil that Boluogo didn't know. In order to avoid any accidents, he waited beside the body of the Abyssal Throat for an entire afternoon. Only after he was sure that it was completely dead did he dare to relax. a bit.

"The battle is over. It's time to go back and report the situation and rest."

Boluogo came to the saw axe, reached out and took off the restless axe. It calmed down, like a cat being picked up by the scruff of the neck.

At this moment, Boluogo felt that the battle was over in a real sense.

Boluogo took a long breath and looked towards the city after layers of blockade. There should be many people curiously surrounding the blockade area. There are also many reporters trying their best to cross the cordon. Many field staff are also trying their best to cross the cordon. In a secret operation, we are searching for the first witnesses who fled the scene.

During the dinner, Nathaniel's words echoed in Boluogo's mind inexplicably.

"In addition to efficiency, there is another reason not to use violence easily."

"It's easier to break order than to rebuild it."

The order of Oath City Opos is still under control, but the order of the world is gradually collapsing.

Boluoge gathered his emotions and prepared to leave the scene. Perhaps the pressure in the etheric realm was too great. After killing the Throat of Tunyuan, Boluogo only felt that his anger was vented, and there was no actual sense of accomplishment.

When he was about to cross the cordon, Bologo stopped and found that the others were still looking at him with eager eyes and fiery expressions.

Bologo has only seen this kind of attitude in two kinds of crowds, one is the fans celebrating victory, and the other is gang members preparing to start a gang fight.

Malik stood among the crowd, staring at Boluogo. As he stared, his body trembled inexplicably, like a boiling kettle, with the lid constantly being lifted by steam.

I don’t know who was the first to let out a cheer, and then everyone responded.

Everyone was cheering, cheering that Boluo Ge had defeated another evil in this world, cheering that one of the dark clouds that shrouded the world had disappeared again.

This was a real feat, a monster that only existed in legends was slain in the streets like a wild dog.

The oncoming wave stunned Boluogo's mind. When Palmer took his hand and raised it high, Boluogo truly understood what Nathaniel said at that time.

Borogo became the Grim Reaper to some, their hero.