210: Chapter 211 The US Sold Out Everything to Buy a Ticket: Seat or Standing?

The White House, Oval Office.

The President looked at the bank transfer proof just urgently approved by the Ministry of Finance, and felt as if the golden splendor before his eyes was shaking.

In order to scrape together this trillion dollars, they had almost cleared out all the national debt they could sell.

They even sold several strategic oil reserve depots at a discount to a private enterprise in the Dragon Kingdom.

"This is that boat ticket."

The Secretary of Defense had a pale face, and his voice carried an indescribable humiliation, "It is the hope of all of us."

The President looked at the QR code electronic ticket sent to his mobile phone, speechless for a long time.

This was simply the most expensive consumption in human history.

But what other choice was there?

As long as he could occupy a seat on that interstellar warship capable of crossing light-years, as long as he could witness with his own eyes that treasure trove known as 'Centaurus', let alone a trillion, even if it meant selling The White House, he would have to grit his teeth and buy it.

At this moment, at least, he felt like a gambler.

He was betting the entire nation's fate on the engine room of that silver spaceship.

"Send it over."

The President sighed deeply and waved his hand, "Tell them we want the best cabin, one with a view. If we get scammed by the Dragon Kingdom people, we'll issue a diplomatic note to them tomorrow!"

West Suburb Base, luan niao starship boarding gate.

An elite Eagle Sauce astronaut in sophisticated equipment, codenamed 'Viper', Hans, was carrying an expensive aluminum-magnesium alloy suitcase, walking arrogantly up the gangway.

The custom-made, pure white spacesuit on him, costing five million dollars, looked exceptionally dazzling at this moment. As he walked, he sized up this legendary interstellar mothership, humming a contemptuous tune through his nose.

He was not only here to inspect, but also to act as a 'spy'.

Once on board, he would definitely find an opportunity to steal the core parameters of that Curvature Engine!

"Hey, you there."

Hans walked to the deck hatch, looked at Zhao Gang who was guarding the door with a murderous look, and raised his chin arrogantly:

"I am the only VIP for this voyage."

"Take me to first class, and prepare me a glass of whiskey with ice while you're at it."

Zhao Gang was taking inventory of the goods, and when he heard this, he looked up abruptly.

He sized up this guy dressed like a white astronaut from head to toe, his eyes full of mockery as if looking at an idiot.

"First class?"

Zhao Gang put down the walkie-talkie in his hand, pointed to the huge warehouse around him that was packed full and still being stuffed with various hot pot seasonings and construction waste, and sneered:

"My Eagle Sauce friend, do you have some misunderstanding about 'manned'?"

"This is an expeditionary force, not a cruise ship."

"Look here, besides the cockpit where people live, where is there any empty space for you?"

Hans's eyes widened instantly, and his face flushed red:

"No space? Then where do you want me to go? I paid one trillion dollars! I am a VIP!"

"You call this a VIP?"

Zhao Gang couldn't be bothered to talk nonsense with him, snatched the suitcase from his hand, and threw it into the cargo hold.

Then, he pointed to the side guardrail on the outer shell that was exposed to the vacuum environment, fixed only by a single cable, and revealed an extremely 'humanitarian' smile:

"There, hanging ticket."

"Prepared a special strap for you, guaranteed you won't fall off halfway."

"What?! Hanging... hanging ticket?!"

Hans looked at the guardrail outside, which had absolutely no protection and was directly exposed to cosmic radiation and extreme cold vacuum, his throat instantly dry and hoarse as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

Is this a place for humans to stay?

Let alone a three-month voyage, staying for three minutes would turn his five-million-dollar spacesuit into scrap metal and turn him into a human popsicle!

"No way! I protest!"

Hans tried to struggle, wanting to retreat back to the boarding gate, "I want to see Jiang Chen! I want to file a complaint! This is torture of prisoners of war! This is a violation of human rights!"

"Violate your grandfather's human rights."

Zhao Gang went up and kicked him, precisely hitting the heel of his combat boot.

"Didn't you watch the news? The boss said, this is a civilian business, no meals included, and no personal accident insurance reimbursed."

"If you're afraid of the cold, wear more clothes yourself."

"By the way, remember not to drool on the deck, this is newly painted, very expensive."

Watching the group of mechanical guards rushing over, Hans was desperate.

His proud identity as an Eagle Sauce elite was not even worth a blade of grass here.

"Can... can you give me a standing ticket?" he asked trembling.

"In your dreams."

Zhao Gang sneered and tightened the safety buckle, "The hanging ticket is the last one. If you keep nagging, even the hanging ticket will be gone, and I'll just throw you off from here to be space junk."

With the roar of the luan bird engine, the huge hull vibrated slowly.

Hans was tied tightly to that cold railing, with the unfathomable starry river beneath his feet, the silence of the vacuum in his ears, and the cheers of Jiang Chen popping champagne in the command room coming from afar.

Despair spread wildly in the bottom of his heart.

This trillion dollars was spent even more painfully than dying.

Not only did he not gain any intelligence, but he also had to be a human kite here for a month.

Is there any scam in this world more pits than this?

"Stop looking."

Zhao Gang walked over and clapped the dust off his hands, "Ten minutes until we enter the Curvature channel. Get ready to welcome your first space baptism. This thing is much more exciting than a roller coaster when it flies."

Hans looked at the deep space, unable to cry.

He suddenly understood.

What Jiang Chen sold to Eagle Sauce was not technology at all.

But...

A month-long, unforgettable 'internet addiction treatment' practice!

"God."

He made a desperate and heartfelt prayer to the cold void:

"If I am sent on a mission to the Dragon Kingdom again..."

"I will burn the CIA headquarters down, and I will absolutely not come to suffer this crime again!"