A vibrant life vanished before everyone’s eyes, and these pirates finally put so pressure on the tycoons onboard.
Just one?
Indeed, in the eyes of these capitalists, they were no longer seen as people, or at least not in the purest sense; they were a new species above humans in the social hierarchy.
No matter how many people from the lower class died, it wouldn’t faze them at all, because people, this cheap commodity, were everywhere around the world.
They were rely... consumables.
Only when capitalists suffered casualties would they start to feel fear.
"I think I’ve seen this gentleman in the newspapers!", Beret pointed his gun at a guest who looked familiar to him.
Two ard robbers escorted the person onto the small stage, still using the sa ga as before.
Beret reached into a box full of bullets, grabbed a handful, "Co on, guess how many bullets I have in my hand?"
With the earlier demonstration by the first participant, this gentleman signed a check for three million almost without resistance.
"I guess you have thirty bullets in hand..."
Beret was quite satisfied with this price; he counted each bullet, and when he reached the last one, the twenty-sixth, everyone sighed in relief.
Yet they also felt a bit tense because the first was twenty-one, this one twenty-six, and would there be more next ti?
No one could guarantee that Beret couldn’t grab more bullets, or even possibly scoop with both hands, which made people realize that getting on stage early could save money!
Saving money is earning money!
"Seems like this gentleman and lady got lucky, you’ve passed this round!", Beret took the check from the tycoon and handed it to the soldier beside him.
"You can go back now, the next one..."
"I am willing to donate..."
Soone stepped forward early, which made Beret suddenly laugh out loud after a montary shock.
He originally thought nothing could make these tycoons lose their cool, but it turned out they just had the wrong approach at the start.
These people only cherished their own lives, as long as you could prove you had the courage to kill them, they would submit.
Just like here and now.
"I’ll donate three million!"
" too, I’ll donate three million two hundred thousand!"
Plenty of tycoons, especially the younger ones, couldn’t keep calm; their fear of death was evidently stronger than that of the older individuals.
Their lives were just beginning, with endless ti to enjoy the pleasures money brings, they weren’t willing to exit early.
It’s just so money, no need to let others find an excuse to hurt them, especially when their lives were far more valuable than several million!
Beret laughed heartily as he took one check after another, looking at the people feeling they were extrely adorable, while so crazy thoughts began to grow in his mind.
If it worked this ti, doesn’t it an it could happen again?
It’s too profitable!
These Federation tycoons were too rich, in just this short while he had amassed tens of millions of Federation Sols, money that he could never earn on his own in a lifeti.
But here, obtaining them was so simple, his gaze gradually beca more greedy.
He suddenly noticed soone smoking in the distance, that young and handso guy who was alone and hadn’t donated any money.
This made him curious, but also began stirring the uncontrollable brutality within him; he pushed through the crowd and pointed his gun at the young man, "Hey, co here, everyone else donated, why didn’t you?"
He spoke with a mocking and ironic tone, like a cat toying with a mouse, at least that’s what he thought.
Lynch strolled up to the front of the crowd, not at all afraid of Beret, just looking at him calmly, "Do you want a check?"
He pulled out his checkbook and a pen, "I can write you a check filled with numbers on the entire page, but what’s the point?"
"Do you want it?"
With a cigarette held at the corner of his mouth, gently biting the filter, one hand was free to draw circles, more specifically, zeroes, on the checkbook.
Beret was stunned, quickly glanced at the soldier beside him, then back at Lynch, "What do you an?"
Lynch tore off the check, put the checkbook and pen back into his pocket, offering the check full of zeroes, "A trillion, is it enough, or you could add more zeros."
Beret suddenly stepped forward, pressing his gun to Lynch’s forehead, opening his foul-slling mouth... although his teeth were quite white, "What the hell do you an?"
He glared at Lynch, but Lynch was taller, making it ironically seem like Beret was the weaker party, which was quite bizarre.
Lynch fearlessly inserted the check into the edge of Beret’s beret, "That’s exactly what I an. Take these checks to the bank, and you won’t be able to withdraw a single cent!"
Beret withdrew his pistol. He strode over to his assistant and took the checks that were placed with him, flipping through them one by one without any issues.
Each check looked identical to those he had seen before, filled in with dates, amounts, and the personal signatures of wealthy individuals. He had seen Federation checks and even specifically acquired a couple before this heist.
There appeared to be no difference, at least none that he could discern.
"You fucking tricked !" he said as he walked back to Lynch, holding a gun to Lynch’s head, as if ready to pull the trigger at any mont.
Lynch chuckled, shaking his head. He raised his hand, using two fingers to push Beret’s gun aside gently.
"If I were you, I wouldn’t do anything foolish. I might be the only one here who’s genuinely cooperating with you."
"I assu you’d prefer to leave here with money and live the rest of your life on the run, rather than end up with nothing and die miserably on the roadside, right?"
"At least you could get sothing, even if it’s temporary."
Beret stared intently at Lynch. He couldn’t see through the young man before him.
His instincts scread at him not to believe a word the young man was saying, but his rationale told him he needed to hear him out.
"What’s your na?"
Beret once again holstered his gun, now seemingly speaking to Lynch as an equal.
"Lynch. You might know ."
Realization flickered across Beret’s face. "The youngest billionaire, newspapers say you have a billion. Is that true?"
Amidst the crowd, soone perhaps dissatisfied with so of Lynch’s remarks, or jealous of the friendliness and equality the robber showed Lynch, instinctively scoffed.
Beret’s gaze imdiately shifted from Lynch’s face to the direction of the laughter.
There was no smile on his face, nor was it a ferocious one. Instead, it appeared even more intimidating, creating a pressing sense of tension.
"If anyone fucking interrupts again, I’ll kill them!"
He turned back, looked at Lynch, eting his gaze.
Lynch didn’t avert his eyes. They looked at each other for a mont, and Beret saw nothing in Lynch’s eyes that indicated guilt or deceit that might have altered his stance.
Back in Mariluo, whenever soone betrayed him, he only needed to look into their eyes before they couldn’t withstand the pressure and would start to avert their gaze.
But Lynch didn’t; he remained so composed, so calm, which convinced Beret to believe Lynch.
"Then what do you an by your words?"
Lynch glanced sideways at the crowd below the small stage and softly said, "Soone already interrupted our conversation. They’ll probably do it again. Why don’t we find a quiet place? Just us, you can bring however many you want, and we can talk?"
Beret paced a few steps, nodding. After quietly saying sothing to his assistant, he gestured with his gun for Lynch to "follow ." The two headed toward a nearby bar.
"Everyone out!"
Several soldiers were at the open-air bar, reeking strongly of alcohol.
They’d just been through intense firefighting, and this was the ti for soldiers to relax.
Previously, he’d also attempted to set strict rules like so national military forces, but it resulted in people either running away or going insane, killing their own, so eventually, he gave up.
As long as they could win battles, he wouldn’t interfere with whatever they wanted to do after.
The soldiers cheerfully took away a lot of booze. Beret casually grabbed a bottle and two glasses, pouring so for Lynch voluntarily.
While pouring, he said, "What did you an by what you said earlier? Why can’t I get that money?"
Lynch made a "give one" gesture, then, taking a check from Beret’s hand, looked at a three-million check.
"You know, the biggest problem with this check is the date."
"We’ve been missing during the ti these transfer checks were signed. Everyone either knows it or doesn’t know what’s happened. If the bank doesn’t get confirmation of our safety, you won’t be able to use this check initially."
"Secondly, whoever takes this check to the bank becos a suspect... or is branded a robber."
"Whether you have these or not makes no difference. So, as I said, I could write you any amount because I know you actually can’t do anything with them."
After hearing that, Beret slamd the bar with the handle of his gun, "Damn it, you capitalists are fucking despicable!"
The reasoning Lynch laid out wasn’t so universal truth. It was as simple as explaining that one plus one equals two, sothing so straightforward that anyone could understand.
Luckily, Beret seed reasonably intelligent, as he also understood.
He’d been played by those wealthy individuals!
He chugged down the drink from his glass and smashed it forcefully on the ground, getting up as if to approach those affluent people, "I’ll kill them!"
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