Rebirth: Super Banking System

Chapter 634: Chapter 538: Underground Prison (Subscribe please!)_1

After seeing all nine assassins captured.

Tang Qing left the command room and teleported to the training area, where the scene had changed dramatically to accommodate the future market demand for fruit wines. At the entrance platform, all he could see were fruit trees.

The cleared area was now about thirty square kilometers. According to plan, another twenty square kilometers needed to be cleared, but that was for the future. The yield from these thirty square kilometers hadn’t even been used up yet.

There was no rush to continue clearing.

Fruit harvesting was done manually without the use of mechanization. For this, Tang Qing exchanged for two hundred level-one fighters, who specialized in planting and picking fruits. The cost was only two hundred million Asia Dollars, which was quite affordable, and the efficiency wasn’t low either.

There was a shortage of local workers in this area. If it were all machines, it would feel even colder. Just like how people instinctively prefer handmade items over mass-produced machinery, even if they are a bit more expensive.

In the fruit grove.

Military trucks drove back and forth across the vast land in front of them, transporting the fruit to a winery three kilometers ahead to the right of the training zone entrance. Once brewing was complete and the wine was barreled, it would be transported to a factory in the mountains outside the zone for bottling and labeling, then sold directly.

Looking at the scene in front of him.

Tang Qing felt like he’d misused this place. A perfectly good training area had developed into a breed farm. He couldn’t help but think he was really a ’spendthrift’.

He chuckled.

Well, a spendthrift was a spendthrift. What was he supposed to do, just sit on it and not use it?

He pulled up his map and gave Little Two a set of coordinates. In an instant, Tang Qing was at the small island in the center of the sea area. Sitting on a rock by the sea, he picked up a fishing rod from the platform next to him and started fishing.

Today Tang Qing had no plans to train. Training every day was tiring. Sometimes he needed to relax. Before long, Little Two had set up a giant projection screen over the sea in front of him.

Tens of meters high and hundreds of meters wide.

On the right side was Stephen Chow’s "Flirting Scholar".

On the left was his email interface.

It wasn’t until the evening.

That Tang Qing had time to check his companies’ emails. Luckily, with the Sky Eye and command room keeping watch, as long as company development strategies were not off-track and managers didn’t overstep, not much could go wrong.

In this society.

Once the money was in place.

All problems would be resolved naturally. Besides, Tang Qing didn’t impose strict earning requirements on his subsidiaries. They wouldn’t make that much money anyhow. As long as they were financially stable, that was enough. To make money, it still depended on the fighters.

...

At three in the morning.

Myanmar.

A karst cave deep in the forest.

From the outside, the entrance was overgrown with weeds and abandoned. But twenty meters inside the cave, there was a huge man-made iron gate that looked quite high-tech, with both fingerprint unlocking and password unlocking for dual identity recognition.

This was a special underground prison for detaining personnel not from the territory, for example spies sent by Myanmar and surrounding forces. These spies would normally be sent to work in the mining field, but the more dangerous and well-trained ones would be locked up here to stay put.

Naturally, the assassins belonged to the ’well-trained’ category.

The entire cave had been built into three levels, each with a huge area of nearly twenty thousand square meters. The total area for all three levels was over sixty thousand square meters. The first and second levels were all prison cells, and the third, at the entrance, was the office and interrogation area of the prison.

The bottom two levels each had hundreds of rooms for single occupancy. Each room was twenty square meters, with a maximum capacity of one thousand people. Each level had function areas like a cafeteria and a recreation room. It was rather ’luxury’.

But currently, there were only a couple of "cats" in the bottom level - just over thirty mischievous fellows. They were far from filling up the prison, and so there were not many soldiers there. At present, there were only twenty.

But that was enough.

These were all tier-three fighters, any of whom could easily take down all of them.

Ten were stationed inside to guard and cook, ten on the outside on high alert for defense. There were also satellites providing real-time surveillance overhead. Eight kilometers away to the right was a combat team composed of one hundred fighters, and ten kilometers to the left was a battalion.

Planning a prison break?

Don’t even think about it.

In a temporary custody room on the second underground level.

All nine assassins were locked in this large room this time.

After being added to the prison’s watch list, everyone here wore the same ’prison clothes’. The soldiers weren’t interested in helping them change. Once the interrogation was over, they would change their clothes themselves, and then they would be locked up here.

But the Myanmar pilot wasn’t among them. Those who could be here were those who had no absolutely valid reasons and were unlikely to be let out in the short term.

Inside the custody room.

Nine assassins.

Lay flat on the ground like dead pigs. Fortunately, it was summertime and Myanmar had a year-round spring climate, so they wouldn’t freeze or overheat. Convicts were humans too. With a striving for perfection attitude, all aspects here were very well-established.

All of the assassins’ weapons had been taken away.

Before long.

"Ding... Clang..."

The door sounded.

"Thump thump..." Boots hit the ground.

A soldier came in, looked at the nine who were still unconscious on the floor, took a small glass container out of his pocket, pulled out the stopper, and a colorless and odorless gas spread quickly throughout the room.

This was the antidote to the anesthetic, which only worked on this particular drug. Ordinary people wouldn’t be affected if they smelled it. This deep anesthetic had a natural fading time of twenty-four hours, during which pouring water, slapping, or even stabbing a few times would be useless. Only this antidote could neutralize it during the duration of the drug’s effect.

Dealing with these assassins.

Was a bit of an overkill. But who said this stuff was cheap? A product from the laboratory, it had almost no cost. If it were sold outside, its price would be similar to that of gold, if not higher.

But Tang Qing had never thought of selling this for profit.

Because it was beneath him.

Half a minute later.

The assassins regained consciousness, their eyes opened to a tiled floor, feeling the chill on their faces, their memories instantly returning as if by prior arrangement.

Suddenly.

All nine of them stood up simultaneously, warily scanning their surroundings. Each of them tried to reach for their weapons, only to find them absent. They immediately clenched their fists on standby.

In just one second, they distinguished their respective camps.

Divided into two groups.

In a confrontational stalemate.

"It’s you." The team leader looked at a man from the opposing side in surprise, which quickly turned into anger. "Why did you attack us and bring us here?" He recognized the opposing squad, the third-ranked assassin team, led by a man code-named ’Flying Fish’. He had no other details except that the man was a Japanese.

But the team leader spoke first.

’Flying Fish’ was taken aback as his speech was interrupted by the team leader.

This isn’t right.

Flying Fish’s facial expression changed.

He was not stupid; seeing the angry face of the team leader, he instantly understood that someone else had caught them. If these folks had caught them unharmed, that would be the real surprise.

The two had known each other for several years and were part of different assassin organizations. The other side did not have the capability to pretend convincingly.

Wait a minute.

Flying Fish caught sight of something from the corner of his eye.

There was an additional person standing at the entrance of the room with a calm demeanor, his hands behind his back, wearing an odd uniform with no rank. It was clear that he did not belong to any of their camps.

Could he be from another assassin organization? Was he the one who captured them?

Turning his head, Flying Fish asked in a deep voice. "Who are you? Are you the one who brought us here?"

"Yes, Flying Fish and Mole, both of you come with me." The soldier replied indifferently. ’Mole’ was the code name of the team leader.

As he finished speaking.

The man before them surprisingly knew their code names. Both were shocked, and all nine instantly targeted the soldier. Had it not been for the soldier’s fearless appearance and the fact that their own weapons had been confiscated, they would have taken him hostage instantly.

"Are you one of Zero’s people?" Mole asked in a deep voice.

"You could say that."

The soldier replied. His words were not incorrect; although nominally, Zero was managing them, these bio robots were truly loyal to Tang Qing. They were directly managed by the command room.

In other words, every move Zero made was controlled by the command room, and all soldiers received orders directly from their minds, without going through Zero.

They only needed Zero to give orders to the ordinary people in their territory.

The others didn’t understand what the soldier meant by this.

You could say that?

What kind of answer was that?

Whether it was or it wasn’t, wasn’t this the same as not answering at all?

Just as the nine individuals were puzzled.

"Flying Fish, Mole, both of you come out." After finishing his sentence, the soldier turned around and headed outside, leaving his back to them. They wanted to attack, but after a mutual glance, they gave up.

They couldn’t figure out this individual’s game.

The soldier walked out, then turned around to look at the individuals inside, his gaze still indifferent.

Flying Fish and Mole exchanged a glance, then looked at their respective teams, then at the inscrutable soldier. Their weapons had been confiscated, and with a grit of their teeth, Flying Fish asked, "I want to know how you’re going to deal with us. Are you going to kill us?"

"Living people are more useful than dead ones." The soldier replied immediately.

Flying Fish couldn’t tell if the soldier was lying, so he could only say, "Alright, I hope you keep your word." After speaking, Flying Fish headed towards the doorway.

"Captain, be careful." One of Flying Fish’s men grabbed onto him.

Flying Fish winked at his men and shook off the man’s hand, reassuring them, "Don’t worry, I’ll be right back. You guys stay put." His intention for going out was not only to probe the reality but also to understand the landscape. Preparing for every eventuality can never go wrong.

"Be careful, captain." His subordinates also immediately understood Flying Fish’s idea, and Mole had also done the same. Currently, having one person go out to explore the situation was the only hope.

"Alright."

Saying so, the two walked out.

Standing at the entrance.

Looking at the empty long corridors on both sides, both of them were stunned. They had assumed that there would be fully armed soldiers outside guarding them. That’s why they agreed so readily. But what was going on? Only one person came to fetch them?

Both of them exchanged bewildered looks.

This level of confidence was uncalled for.

They were not thieves, they deserved the treatment of trained assassins. Unfortunately, no one cared about their thoughts.

"Click... Beep..."

The soldier closed the door and only then did Flying Fish and Mole realize that it was an electronic code door, not a mechanical lock. It didn’t require a key.

This military base.

It certainly had a grand look and feel.

But that was good too.

Sometimes, electronic products were much easier to deal with than pure machinery.

"Follow me."

The soldier walked in front, not appearing to be escorting prisoners at all, but more like a friend leading the way.

PS: It’s the beginning of the month, asking for monthly votes.