Chapter 189 A Big Gift

At the end of the meeting, the entire branch was filled with a grand scene. The image of the founder of Eoubs was projected onto the dome by someone with ulterior motives. He was loudly reciting a proclamation in the virtual world, informing all the great heroes who were willing to join that no matter whether they had committed unforgivable sins, once they entered Eoubs, they would be granted temporary pardon and could go on a wild party and live without any scruples.

"Humanity will ultimately be able to protect its home. We will destroy those forbidden things with our wisdom and courage!" said the data projection that had been dead for who knows how long, its voice impassioned as if it had just watched some spectacular explosion show.

"All of this is for all of humanity!"

Gore looked away, thinking that this thing was released specifically to torture people, but it just didn't seem very original. But it didn't matter; people who had lived this long were used to suffering.

He turned to Sheen and said, "Speaking of which, do you remember what those experts said afterward?"

He wasn't listening at all.

“The Siberian tremors.” Sheen, seeing his expression as if he were witnessing a disaster, continued, “You have a lot to deal with now.”

Some of his privileges have been locked—thanks, of course, to Roy. The higher-ups say it's for monitoring purposes, but really it's to prevent Gore from causing any more trouble. He's no longer the arrogant man he once was; he's no different from any toy being manipulated.

“Ah, a vibration, right—it seems quite slight, but that area has never felt like this before.” Gore said, pulling up a few videos he’d watched earlier in his field of vision; those were the ones that could lift his spirits. “I think there must be a reason—”

He stopped and turned to look at the several groups of medical teams and researchers that had suddenly appeared at the entrance.

Those people were already very familiar with the waste recycling procedure and were checking the injuries of all the operatives in groups—no one knew where they came from, but after each control mission, many people were carried over. During the operation, these people were cheap expendables, but after the mission was over, they became ridiculously precious.

A large group of people—who hadn't even had time to change out of their lab clothes and were carrying scanning equipment—rushed over and surrounded the wounded, carefully examining their condition but hesitant to touch them. Their expressions were extremely tense, as if these people had come from some dangerous area with severe radiation exposure.

The leader glanced at the situation and asked the staff in the access department how it was going. The people around him busied themselves for a while, and then the medical team was called over to check on the situation. Within two minutes, they provided a very detailed set of data.

—They are severely injured, have a high level of mental pollution, and are in a coma. However, they can definitely be saved. With the current level of medical technology, even if you only have a brain left, Eoubs can create a new body for you, and a very functional one at that.

Another group of people quickly woke up and started talking nonsense, some of which were not intelligible to normal people—but they were more seriously injured than they appeared. However, these were minor issues, and once the mission was over, they could be treated however they wanted.

Less than five minutes later, a new batch of operatives was brought in. The medical team had no choice but to repeat the tests they had just done. When they saw the data, everyone was stunned. They said it would be best to lock them in the control room immediately, as their mental pollution levels were about to explode and they couldn't wait even a second longer.

A man who was still relatively lucid smiled at them and said, "What a beautiful dream." His companion, who had just woken up, cried and uttered a vulgar curse word. Clearly, they had experienced something quite different.

Gore glanced at the people coming in from outside the room. They were all from the research department—their eyes were filled with excitement and fanaticism, so dazzling that it was as if they were facing a group of experimental subjects with great research value.

"Someone come and tell me what happened?" he said as he walked over to the doctor across from him.

The other person was talking about the injuries of those people when they turned around and saw him. They immediately stopped, opened their lips, but for the first time, they couldn't even make a sound.

“Mr. Gore… I’m sorry, but they… they’ll tell you sooner or later,” he swallowed hard, his words breaking into fragments, and said dryly, “It’s definitely big news—”

Before they could finish speaking, another commotion arose not far away, and the group turned to look.

The people entering were from the adjudication department. After each control mission ended, the observers would send the video recordings there, and then the interrogators and executioners would randomly talk to the operatives, like picking out a piece of prey from a pig cage, checking their contamination levels—and hoping to find a few suitable for torture, dragging them directly to the execution ground to avoid future trouble.

This time, however, the group had a clearer objective. Like a well-trained and powerful special operations team, in addition to the "execution ground manager" and the "chief judge," there were other highly capable Class C operatives, each with a chilling killer's expression, who relentlessly approached them.

The man at the very front—who had briefly served as the head of the adjudication department after Yu Jianchu stepped down and had also killed countless people without a single error—stopped directly in front of Gore and gave him a rather unfriendly smile.

They came for some long-awaited result, as if they were blinded by something and completely unable to think.

For a fleeting moment, Gore met his gaze, instinctively looked away, and then turned his eyes back.

The other person cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry, Mr. Gore, but this matter is very urgent, and I must inquire about it myself—"

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