Chapter 1167: The Market at Dusk (Asking for Monthly Pass)

Chapter 1168 The market at dusk (please vote for me)

"Echo the Yin Intelligent Building first? Or the West Steel Building?"

Hull looked at He Ao and replied tentatively, "He will definitely find a way to return to the core of the two major consortiums and regain power."

"Good idea."

He Ao nodded lightly, "Find someone. Each of you will lead a team of city defense troops. Seal the two major consortium buildings and take away his hometown. Let's wait and see."

"good!"

Hull immediately nodded excitedly.

And before he was about to turn around and leave, He Ao, who was holding the tablet, seemed to remember something, turned around and shouted, "By the way, doesn't the warehouse have three floors? Why are the second and third floors not integrated into the main network of the building?"

Hearing this, Hel was stunned, and then explained,

“The second and third floors contain the FBI’s extraordinary items and extraordinary materials. It turns out they seem to be integrated with the main network.

"But then Director Quick split them up, and only he could enter the second and third floors. The second and third floors of the warehouse became his private warehouse, and the contents inside have not been updated for many years. "

"Then do you know where the keys to the second and third floors of the warehouse are?"

He Ao asked casually.

"Um, it seems there is no key?"

Hull scratched his head, "I've been to the warehouse before, and the second and third floors there seem to have been changed to password locks. Only Director Quick knows the password."

"Okay, I understand, go ahead."

He Ao nodded slightly.

"Okay, Mr. Sauter, I'm leaving first."

Hel nodded slightly and continued deeper along the corridor.

He Ao looked at his disappearing figure.

He turned around, walked to the elevator nearby, and pressed the button on the elevator.

Soon, he entered the elevator and pressed the button for the 17th floor.

The third floor of the warehouse is actually the 16th to 18th floors of the building.

The 17th floor is the second floor of the warehouse. Judging from the construction information collected by Eve, the 17th and 18th floors are connected, with internal elevators and stairs.

In the past, the three floors from 16 to 18 were all connected. The three floors could form an independent area, so they were connected and called the third floor of the warehouse.

The elevator went down quickly, taking He Ao to the designated floor.

——

Mingte City·76th Street

"The following is the wanted order issued by the FBI. Weiken, male, 67 years old, looks like the picture. This person is very dangerous. If any citizens find traces of this person, please report it immediately. Those who provide effective clues will receive 500 to Rewards ranging from 10,000 federal coins.”

Standing next to the TV on the roadside, the red-haired man watched the news on the TV.

"With the starting price of 500 federal coins, Sauter is a bit looking down on others, but,"

Beside him, an old man wrapped in a large cotton coat and a bowler hat was also watching the news on TV. He turned his head, looked at the red-haired man, and said with a smile, "Your chief of staff did not tell you The news of the disappearance has been announced.”

"oh,"

Borrick shrugged and lit a cigarette in the fading dusk. "Maybe they haven't noticed that I ran away."

"Do you believe this?"

Wicken smiled and said, "He is protecting you. Do you have any regrets at all?"

Then, before Borrick could speak, he turned his attention back to the screen again, "Unfortunately, it's too late for you to regret it now. The next time he sees you, he will definitely attack you mercilessly."

"Stop vaccinating me here,"

Borrick took a drag on his cigarette and said, "I'm not the kind of person who thinks about everything after making a decision. I make money when I make money. After I finish this job, I'll run away. Everything in this city has nothing to do with me. ”

"A character like yours can do great things,"

Weiken turned to look at him and said with a smile, "It's a pity that I was in the FBI before."

"Stop pushing,"

Borrick took off his cigarette and flicked the ashes, "Twenty-five million, and the money for the clothes you're wearing, damn, if you still can't get a penny out tonight, I'll If you kill and then have your body taken to collect the bounty, you can get some money back."

"Young man, don't be too angry."

Viccan shook his head, glanced at Borrick, and smiled hoarsely.

Then he looked up at the dusk in the sky and said, "It's almost time, let's go."

Borrick glanced up at Weiken's back, threw the cigarette butt in his hand on the ground and stamped it out. Then he looked up at the advertising screen among a bunch of shacks, pursed his lips, and followed Weiken ahead. Ken's pace.

Walking into the shantytowns, the streets began to become lively. People in simple clothes, wrapped in dirty old cotton-padded jackets, and holding plastic bags shuttled between the streets.

Borrick looked at the scene around him.

This is like a small market.

In front of the thin shacks, someone had a shoe rack in front of the door, with pieces of dark, rich-smelling leather hanging on it. It seemed that the shoemaker was repairing damaged shoes.

There was an old-fashioned sewing machine that was covered with mechanical patches in front of someone's door. The motor of the sewing machine seemed to have been damaged. It was pulled on a simple transmission belt and relied on a small motor and manual pedaling to rotate.

Next to the sewing machine, there is a large plastic basket filled with various cotton clothes. This seems to be a clothing repair shop.

Next to the clothing repair shop, there is a spacious shack with the door fully opened. Huge barbed wire mesh is close to the left and right walls of the shack and extends to the street. Old clothes of various colors are densely hung on the wire mesh. Above, two walls of clothing were formed.

Between these two walls, in the center of the shanty, was a huge display table. Pieces of old cotton-padded clothes were thrown on the display table without any hindrance, forming a mountain of cotton-padded clothes.

Customers in twos and threes crowded in the shanty, choosing carefully.

This seems to be a 'large' clothing store.

The early morning snow had melted somewhat, leaving small puddles on the uneven road.

A child wrapped in a large cotton-padded jacket with bare legs crossed the puddle and crossed the narrow street.

Borrick walked to Wiccan's side and looked at the lively scene around him. "You were scared to death outside before. You couldn't wait to take one step at a time. Why did you run so fast when you got here?"

"Because this is my home,"

Weiken glanced at the surrounding scene and said with a hoarse smile, "Before I was fourteen, I spent all my days here."

He pointed at the huge clothing store and said with a smile, "Did you see that store? That store was there fifty years ago, but the owner must have changed several times. When I was a kid, the owner of that store was a bastard. The old man with the scar,

"I had no clothes to wear, so I often went to steal clothes from him. When he saw it, he chased me from the street to the end of the street, but he didn't dare to chase me far, because once the store left his sight, the store's The clothes will be half gone in a few minutes."

Borrick looked in the direction of his finger and saw a stocky middle-aged woman who seemed to be the store owner arguing with a female customer over a cotton coat.

"There should be holes in that dress to leak the synthetic fibers inside,"

Weiken looked at the two people arguing in the store and said with a hoarse smile, "The stores here will sell good and bad clothes mixed together. If you can't tell the difference and buy clothes with holes, you have to spend your own money. Sorry, it’s impossible to retreat.”

Borrick stared ahead. The female customer was finally kicked out of the store by the boss holding the ripped cotton coat.

"Are all the clothes here old clothes?"

Borrick stared at the pieces of clothing hanging in the store.

"There are also new ones, it depends on luck,"

Wiken glanced across the street, "Sometimes the gentlemen and ladies in the city center buy new clothes, don't like them, and don't bother to return them, so they just throw them away, and then they come here, like packaged meat without eating a bite. Like a full steak.

"Of course, buying new clothes is a little more expensive than old clothes. I once stole a new jacket. Although it didn't fit, I was happy for a few weeks. I was twelve or thirteen years old. Something happened.”

"It seems you were chased quite far that time."

Borrick said casually.

"Not being chased,"

Wicken laughed hoarsely, "At that time, the boss was arguing with some customers who bought tattered clothes, and I sneaked away from behind them. At that time, I was thin, small, and ran fast, so they couldn't see me. ”

He looked at Borrick, "Do you have a cigarette?"

Borrick glanced at him, raised the cigarette in his hand, popped one out, and said, "Count the money."

Weiken smiled and took out the cigarette and held it in his mouth.

Borrick gave him the electronic cigarette lighter.

Weiken turned on the electronic cigarette lighter, lit the cigarette butt, and looked up at the customer who was kicked out, "These people who buy shabby clothes, even if they know they can't return them, they still come and try them, hoping in their hearts that the boss can give them something." If they change to a good one, they can save a lot of money on mending their clothes.

"If the holes in the clothes are left alone, they will get bigger and bigger, and eventually all the fibers inside will leak out. A thick cotton coat is an important asset here. Having it or not having it is the difference between whether you can survive the winter."

In front of him, the customer finally stamped her feet angrily, looked in the direction of the shop owner, lowered her head and cursed a few words, but before the shop owner looked back, she had already turned around and walked to the sewing shop nearby.

"Are these old clothes picked from the trash can?"

Borrick also lit a cigarette and looked at the densely hung clothes in the clothing store.

"You can't find such good clothes in the trash can,"

Wicken laughed, "Those new clothes that the ladies throw away without wearing them are usually sold directly to the housekeepers and servants. As for the old clothes, the 'loving clothes' in the city center and some wealthy neighborhoods "Clothing recycling bin, have you seen it?"

"Isn't that thing donated by a charity organization that recycles old clothes?"

Borrick was stunned, "Isn't that a donation?"

"Donate, of course, donate,"

Wicken held a cigarette in his mouth and smiled,

"But do managers of charitable organizations need management funds? To put such a box, the block manager has to charge a rent fee, right? Do you need this money? To collect old clothes, whether it is done by machine or manually, the sorting fee, transportation Fee, do you need it?

"In this case, after spending so much 'cost', the charity has to run, so shouldn't it be reasonable for the 'donor' to give some money?

"'Donation' is still a donation, it's just that the person handling it makes a little bit more money, and the recipient spends a little more."

"Your reasons are as shameless as you are,"

Borrick narrowed his eyes slightly, "It seems you are very aware of these things?"

“This charity was in my name ten years ago.”

Weiken said calmly, as if he was talking about a trivial matter.

There will be another update at noon.