To ensure the city''s prosperity, the leaders of Monsato decided not to allow police officers to use rocketunchers freely. After careful consideration, they ultimately decided to request support from the Dasha Department of Paranormal Research and Defense.


    Even though there was only one killer robot, its performance and operational duration indicated that it was a finished product. This meant it had been developed and refined multiple times and had corresponding manufacturing blueprints.


    Thus, destroying the killer robot was just the first step. The Moda authorities also hoped that the department could find and eliminate the people responsible for its development and destroy the blueprints.


    After examining Wilbur''s credentials from the department, Officer Dennis extended his hand and said, "Hello, Mister Penn. I am Dennis, deputy chief of the Monsato Police Department. It''s an honor to have you here."


    "Thank you," Wilbur replied calmly. "Dasha is aware of the situation. I will take over from here."


    "Alright, Mister Penn. Is there anything we can do to assist you?"


    "Only one thing. Let me inside."


    With Dennis watching, Wilbur leaped onto the roof of a two-and-a-half-meter-high car. Then, with another jump, he entered the police cordon. He quickly walked further in, releasing his dragon aura as he went to sense the area within a hundred meters.


    Meanwhile, in a building in the central district of Monsato, Johnson stared at the now-inactive killer robot and clenched his teeth, punching the wall beside him with all his strength.


    ording to his original n, the Satan Robot''s power should havested for at least a day. Yet, after only half a day, it was out of power, leaving Johnson perplexed and cursing, "Damn it! That bastard Dickens! He lied to me!"


    Johnson had a detailed n. Having been mocked his whole life for his short stature, he wanted to turn the central district of Monsato into his personal yground of destruction. His n was to wreak havoc on the city''s buildings until 3 PM and then quickly escape to the secret quarters.


    If all had gone ording to n, Johnson would still be on his rampage. Growing up, he was constantly ridiculed for his height. Whenever he confronted someone about their mockery, they would dismiss it as a joke, saying it was just a game.


    A game?


    That dismissive attitude almost drove Johnson to murder. After humiliating him, they would brush it off as merely a game. These past slights left indelible scars on his psyche. This convinced Johnson that his real-life game was justified. He could not let anyone who hurt him go unpunished. He would kill them and then tell them, "It''s just a game."


    As this thought crossed his mind, a twisted smile appeared on Johnson''s lips. Regardless of the oue, today''s events were already a source of pride for him. But he wasn''t ready to die just yet. When he opened the power interface on the right side of the Satan Robot, he found it empty.


    The metal block that should have been there was missing.


    "Damn it, they left me hanging!"


    Cursing under his breath, Johnson''s phone suddenly rang. It was a call from Marshall.


    "Marshall, are you still alive?"