Chapter 90: You have a headache and you are breathing heavily
At the mecha competition, the arena that can accommodate 300,000 people at the same time was packed with people cheering and rolling. The spray barrier sprayer was operating around the clock with a frighteningly high concentration, but even this could not suppress the audience's boiling adrenaline and pheromones.
Inside the anti-collision transparent particle barrier, the swirling dust is reluctant to fall. After a fierce competition, the favorite to win the championship [Prisoner] easily won the victory. He jumped off the mecha, kicked hard with his right foot, jumped onto the stage handsomely, turned around and waved to the more than 100,000 spectators.
The large screen behind him perfectly reproduced the handsome and unruly face of the "Prisoner" with 5K ultra-high-definition quality.
The audience couldn't help but shout:
"Prisoner! Prisoner! I am willing to be the soul that dies under your sword."
"Hurry up, hurry up, I want to see the prisoner kiss the championship trophy."
There were also disdainful voices: "Don't be so sure, there are still 6 rounds to go, and it's still uncertain who will win."
The person next to him turned around and asked, "Brother, which one do you like?"
The man crossed his arms and said proudly, "Of course it's the biggest dark horse of this year [shop for rent]."
"A popular shop for rent?" The person next to him swiped the schedule screen and said curiously, "There's no such person at all."
"Hmm? Let me see... Damn! He changed his ID to [Down with Imperialism]. What a lousy name!"
The prisoner passed by two spectators in the front row, glanced at them casually, and then looked away as if nothing had happened.
The temperature inside the mecha cabin is high, and the pilot who just got off the plane needs to cool down. The assistant beside him hurriedly handed over a towel that had been chilled long ago, and then held a mini electric fan, adjusted it to a soft wind setting, and blew it towards the prisoner's spine.
Assistant: "Brother Prisoner, shall we go back to the lounge now?"
The prisoner casually threw the towel over his shoulder and said, "Go to the VIP box."
The young assistant understood that this was after winning three games in a row and following the rules to report to the big money sponsor.
The VIP box is located in the center of the stadium, occupying the best view of the audience and providing a 360-degree bird's-eye view of the situation in the stadium. The price for a private room per day is 100,000 star coins, and if you book the entire venue, it will cost over a million. Especially the two rooms right next to the podium, with the best location and the most luxurious decoration, are listed at a price close to 24 million.
But if you want to sit in the box, money alone is not enough. Those inside are either politicians from various countries or people at the top of the interstellar pyramid.
The prisoner's financial sponsor belongs to the latter.
The interstellar private shipping tycoon, the second young master of the "Argo" transportation group, Lan Qi.
Arashi is a large bluefin tuna that can weigh up to 680 kilograms. He loves extreme sports. Not only does he like to drive a mecha to go rappelling in the atmosphere, or charter a snowy mountain to go for a thrilling big jump, he also likes to keep some drivers in captivity and watch others fight to the death.
The harder you fight, the better.
If you can make your opponent bleed, Master Tuna will give you an extra bonus.
The Prisoner is the strongest and most likely to win the championship among the 16 drivers he sponsored. Therefore, prisoners were granted certain privileges and could take the initiative to go to the box to pay their respects.
But when they arrived at the door of the box, there was no one inside.
The assistant was well-informed. He refreshed the internal group chat and suddenly realized, "The boss must have been stopped at the security checkpoint. The group chat said that someone opened fire in the rest area next to the security checkpoint. It seemed that the target was Gorgon's men. They are now conducting another security check outside."
The prisoner was a little surprised: "Gorgon? That arms company?"
"Yes. That famous weapons manufacturer."
The prisoner is lost in thought, and his intuition stirs up some waves. As he expected, ten minutes later, Lan Qi arrived with his bodyguards. Even through the six tall and strong bodyguards, one could sense that the Second Young Master was in a terrible mood.
"Who is a Gorgon? He is just a ruined empire. How dare you block my way and search me at will?"
Although Lan Qi's original prototype is huge, his wealth makes him wealthy, so his human form is indeed that of a handsome and noble young man. He was only in his early twenties, with a pair of slightly curved peach blossom eyes, which looked bright and attractive.
But if you look closely, you can see a hint of coldness in his eyes.
Anyone who can survive the cannibalistic family struggle and grab the second largest share of Argo is definitely not an ordinary person.
The prisoner was stunned for a moment. It was not until a pair of gloves came flying at him, slapping him in the face with a cool sound, that he woke up as if from a dream, picked up the gloves, and walked into the box.
Lan Qi leaned back on the lychee-grain leather sofa and glanced at him casually, as if she didn't take him seriously.
"Report it."
The prisoner's spine stiffened and he subconsciously looked up. There were a lot of people in the room. A rough count showed that there were no less than ten people, including the personal nanny, assistant, cook and bodyguards.
He hesitated for about two or three seconds, bent over and pushed the coffee table away, his knees trembling slightly, and finally he knelt down to where Lanqi could step on his shoulders.
"Today's results: First match against Lu Sturgeon. Win, 500 points. Second match..."
The prisoner spoke word by word, but Master Tuna was not paying attention and interrupted him directly:
"Who will you play next?"
The prisoner thought about it and said, "[Down with imperialism]."
Lan Qi was stunned, thinking he was shouting slogans, and asked grimly, "What do you mean?"
The assistant standing nearby quickly came out to help: "That's the contestant's ID name. It was originally called [旺铺招租], but it was later changed to this."
"A popular shop for rent..." Lan Qi searched his memory and his eyes gradually narrowed.
He vaguely remembered that this [Wang Pu Rent] was the driver made famous by Gorgon.
Just when he wanted to put a damper on Gorgon's prestige, this thing came to him.
Lan Qi raised the corner of his eye slightly, lowered his gaze, and said to the prisoner: "Beat him hard in the next game. It would be best if you drag [Wang Pu Zhao Rent] out of the cockpit and beat him on the sidelines until he vomits blood."
"...Yes." The prisoner agreed.
"Go ahead."
"good."
Lan Qi stopped him immediately, "Wait a minute, have you forgotten the rules I taught you again?"
The prisoner put his legs together, bent his straight back as much as possible, and answered again: "Yes, sir."
Only then did Lan Qi let him go.
When the prisoner stood up, he found that the people around him were not looking at him, and it was obvious that they were accustomed to such scenes. The prisoner touched his nose bridge. He used to fight in the black market, but was only recruited this month. He was not used to this...feudal way of doing things yet.
Besides, he is almost thirty years old, much older than this young master.
It's so embarrassing to kneel down in front of others and talk about these rules.
Fortunately, the prisoner has a bohemian character. He is the type who does things for money and doesn't care as long as it doesn't cross his bottom line.
If you stay with Lan Qi for three months, you can get the salary of the previous three years. With this money, he can continue his unfinished interstellar journey.
And unlike other sponsors, this young master didn't need him to stay by his bedside. This made the prisoner feel that Master Tuna was still somewhat otherworldly.
The assistant came over and asked Lan Qi curiously, "Second Young Master, you don't seem to like Gorgon?"
The young assistant is actually the young master's assistant, who was just loaned to the prisoner. He had a formal labor contract and was not a "horse" picked by the young master from the black market, so he didn't have to kneel down at every turn.
Lanqi picked up a fresh and tender cherry and slowly tasted the juice in his mouth. "Gorgon ruined my business."
Half a month ago, he was preparing to cooperate with the electricity tycoon Power to build an elevator directly into space on the capital star.
The plan and funds are all in place, just waiting to be signed and approved.
But at this moment, the electricity tycoon died. The remaining industries were also all acquired by Gorgon at low prices. Within a week, the shareholders of the power supply group were replaced by capital that had a vested interest in Gorgon.
When talking about the cooperation project again, Gorgon turned against it and denied it.
Although Lanqi did not lose much money due to the failure of the project, Gorgon's noble and cold attitude was really annoying.
Lan Qi was young and full of vigor. He couldn't help but sneer and said, "I hope the attacker's shooting is accurate enough to break the Gorgon shareholder's kidney."
The assistant flattered, "Don't worry, Gorgon has been on the decline for a long time. Their company's financial report has been losing money for years. Even if they have wings, they can't catch up with our transportation group, which is making a lot of money every day."
Lan Qi nodded with satisfaction: "That's true."
Military industrial enterprises have high development difficulty and long product cycles. Before a new generation of weapons comes out, they need to invest a lot of money, and it is difficult to get a return in a short period of time.
In the interstellar stock market, military industry stocks are also a kind of monster stocks, and their rise and fall depend entirely on policy direction.
If Gorgon was still an Imperial state-owned design bureau, with financial support, it would certainly not have to be responsible for its own profits and losses.
However, the Gorgon now is just like the swallow in the palace of the Wang and Xie families in the past. If the losses continue like this, the company will probably go bankrupt and liquidate in a few years.
Lan Qi laughed and said, "Humph, unless we can start an interstellar war and let Gorgon make a fortune from the war, otherwise, it will just have to wait to become a subsidiary of Argo."
He raised the goblet, and the assistant tactfully poured him some pink sparkling wine.
"To Athena!"
The assistant was confused: "Does this make sense?"
Lan Qi sniffed the fragrance of the fruit wine and said meaningfully, "Our shipping group is called Argo. In Greek mythology, it is a ship full of heroes heading to the other side of victory. The Goddess of War Athena gave it the greatest blessing, making it invincible."
"As for the name Gorgon..."
Lan Qi swirled the wine, his expression somewhat dissolute and contemptuous, "[Gorgon] refers to the three snake sisters. You must have heard of the most famous one among them - Medusa."
"Legend has it that Medusa was a gorgeous blonde with long, beautiful hair. But she was so arrogant that she wanted to compete with Athena in beauty. Athena cursed her and turned her hair into snakes. She also ordered a hero to chop off her head to rid the people of this evil."
After hearing the story, the assistant suddenly realized: "So, luck and justice are on our side. Gorgon is a villain who is destined to fail."
Lan Qi said leisurely: "That's right."
·
In the open kitchen of the box, the prisoners are eating nutritious meals.
The so-called nutritious meals are not meals made from fresh vegetables and meat, but a whole bag of meal replacements rich in various essential vitamins for the human body.
The prisoner inserted a thick straw to make drinking easier.
The chef came over and handed him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, "This is a reward from the Second Young Master."
The prisoner held the juice, feeling somewhat flattered.
The price of fruits is high this winter. Just this small cup will cost about 200 star coins worth of fresh oranges.
The prisoner drank it slowly, feeling the comfort of the real fruit particles sliding down his throat. He couldn't help but lick the cup. A sense of inexplicable emotion flashed through his mind, but he quickly suppressed it with a playful expression and put the cup on the dining table.
“Can I put it here?”
Nanny: "Sure, brother prisoner."
The prisoner was stunned for a moment and lowered his voice: "You don't have to call me by my code name. I have a name, which is——"
With a "bang", the nanny threw his used cup into the trash can, and the automatic decomposer rotated and ground the glass into powder.
Master Tuna is a germaphobe, so it's a blessing to allow him to eat in the kitchen.
As for keeping cups used by outsiders, it is absolutely impossible.
The nanny was wiping the dining table when she turned around and asked, "Brother Qiu, what did you say?"
The prisoner pursed his lips: "...Nothing."
The break time is over and he has to get to the stadium as soon as possible. While walking on the road, he inexplicably thought of the [Wang Pu Rent] with a randomly changed ID.
These drivers may sound nice but they are sponsored, but in fact they are no different from the horses running wildly on all fours in the racetrack.
Whether it is speaking, moving, communicating, or using an ID name, all of these require the sponsor's permission.
For example, the code name "Prisoner" was given to him by the second young master.
People around him also called him "Prisoner". Over time, he almost forgot his real name.
Soon, the prisoner saw his opponent in this game, [Shop for Rent]... Oh no, now it is [Down with Imperialism].
Based on the principle of competition first, friendship second, the two of them need to shake hands briefly.
The prisoner stretched out his hand, but the other party held it forcefully, and his fingers were very hot, as if he had a fever.
The prisoner asked in a mysterious way: "Will your sponsor...the Gorgon allow you to change your ID?"
Bai Ling was observing the venue. When he heard his question, he replied nonchalantly, "Yes, he is allowed to. Actually, he is too lazy to care about me."
The prisoner then asked, "Does your sponsor also call you by your circle name? Down with imperialism, this one."
"No."
"What's his name?"
Bai Ling thought seriously for two seconds and said coldly: "Baby."
prisoner:"……"
Bai Ling confirmed that there were still two minutes left before he could go on stage, and asked the prisoner, "Do you mind if I listen to 'baby'?"
He held up the terminal interface and was already dialing.
Prisoner: "...Please do as you please."
Bai Ling walked to the side, keeping a slight distance so that they could talk more conveniently. He just acted on impulse and wanted to tease the opponent before going on stage, and then just say a few words and then hang up.
The host on the field was passionately reading out the past performances of the contestants. The bright spotlights made every detail clear, even a little dazzling.
Bai Ling narrowed his gray eyes, turned and headed towards the shadows, and heard a ring in the intercom, and the call was picked up.
At the same time, in the private room of Master Tuna, separated by a wall.
There was a sound of dripping water in the bathroom, the golden faucet was glowing dimly, and a trickle of cold water rushed to the drain, but it couldn't wash away the increasingly thick blood color.
The mercury mirror reflected a pale and solid body. He is like a sculpture in the main exhibition hall of the museum, with clearly engraved muscle texture, comparable to the mythological works carved by Michelangelo's knife, full of the vigor and strength of the male species.
——If the wound under the ribs is ignored.
His gloomy green eyes drooped, the tip of the knife pierced into the flesh, and he used his wrist to flick it, and the blood immediately gushed out, like water covering terraced fields, flowing along the vertical and horizontal directions of the abdominal muscles in lines, and sinking into the edge of the trousers.
He reached his hand into the wound without hesitation and felt around carefully, as if it was not his body.
"bite."
A bullet fell into the basin, rolled around, and got stuck in the stainless steel flap.
There was blood between his fingernails, and he picked it up and looked at it.
In the reflection of the mirror, the blood-stained blond hair tilted towards □□, clamped the terminal between the ear and shoulder, and asked slowly: "Are you on stage, or are you just slacking off?"
The person on the other end of the line paused for two seconds, then suddenly asked, "What's wrong with you?"
"Hmm?" Yu Chen slowly pulled the gauze and wiped the blood off his abdomen. With his recovery ability, a 5 cm wound can be superficially healed within two minutes.
Bai Ling asked hesitantly: "You are breathing heavily..."
Yu Chen's breathing stagnated and he instantly looked up at the mirror. He looked disheveled, confused, and covered in sticky blood, which was very undignified.
The birds he raised were so sensitive that they could hear the slightest differences in their breathing.
Yu Chen raised his lips slightly, playing with the bullet on his fingertips, and said in a lazy tone: "I have a headache. Why, do you want to give up your career and come back to accompany me? Welcome, welcome."
"Haha, I have to go on stage. See you later."
Yu Chen listened to the busy tone of the phone being hung up, his consciousness becoming a little dazed.
He glanced in the mirror again, and from under the tangled mass of gauze, even thicker visceral blood oozed out like the devil's claws, soaking his rapidly breathing lower abdomen.
He is too conceited.
Now, the bleeding won't stop.
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