136: Chapter 136 One Hundred Million? I'll Give You Ten Billion

The wind on the Gobi Desert carried grit, stinging against people's faces.

Da Biao held up a satellite phone, with the speakerphone turned to the maximum volume.

Lu Chen's calm, emotionless words echoed over the vast, empty riverbed.

"If he can't take it, break his limbs and bury him in a pit."

Yan Laosan stopped chewing his betel nut, the fat on his cheeks freezing into a lump.

Yellow-Hair spat a mouthful of sandy saliva onto the ground, gripping the iron pipe in his hand tightly.

"Who are you trying to scare?" Yan Laosan pulled open his coat collar, revealing a sweat-stained white undershirt, and whipped out the crude shotgun tucked into his waistband. "In Heishui County, if you're a dragon, you have to coil; if you're a tiger, you have to crouch. Never mind five billion; even if you had a mountain of gold today, you'd still have to honestly leave me the toll money."

Click. Yan Laosan pulled back the hammer of the shotgun, aiming it at Da Biao's chest.

Da Biao didn't even blink.

He tucked the satellite phone into the chest pocket of his tactical vest and turned around.

"First Platoon, Second Platoon." Da Biao raised his right hand.

Two hundred security guards instantly split into two lines, their steps uniform as they walked to the rear of the twelve bulletproof heavy-duty trucks.

"Open the crates." Da Biao lowered his hand.

Click. Click. Click.

The crisp sound of dozens of hydraulic locks popping open simultaneously merged into one. The heavy rear doors of the cargo containers were pulled open with force.

The wind rushed in through the open door gaps.

The security guards grabbed the corners of the black moisture-proof tarps covering the contents and yanked them down, dropping them to the ground and kicking up a cloud of yellow dust.

The smell of ink.

An extremely thick, fresh, and pungent smell of ink instantly overpowered the earthy scent of the Great Northwest Gobi Desert.

Yan Laosan's eyes were locked firmly on the cargo container of the lead vehicle.

An entire cargo container, stacked from the floor to the ceiling, was filled with hundred-yuan bills bundled in kraft paper.

There was no dazzling glint of gold bars, no decorative packaging—just the purest, most primitive red bricks.

The cargo doors of all twelve trucks were wide open.

The volume of five billion in cash weighed over fifty tons, forming a small red mountain stretching for dozens of meters, sitting realistically on this barren land of Heishui County.

Clang.

The rusty iron pipe in Yellow-Hair's hand fell onto the gravel, bouncing high into the air.

His legs went weak, and he slumped down right in front of the Land Rover's hood, his hands subconsciously rubbing his eyes.

The seven or eight thugs holding crude shotguns were all shaking, their gun barrels unconsciously drooping.

No one had ever seen so much money. This kind of visual impact could uproot a person's psychological defenses.

Old Zhou hid behind the car door, clutching that old briefcase tightly and breathing heavily. Although he had seen two hundred million at the factory, this was a full five billion, loaded into twelve heavy-duty trucks and brought to a desert thousands of miles away.

The wind blew through the cargo containers, lifting a few loose hundred-yuan bills from the edges and sending them spinning in mid-air.

Yan Laosan's Adam's apple bobbed frantically. He couldn't even hear his own heartbeat.

The crude shotgun in his hand lowered bit by bit. Flames of greed shot out from his eyes, rapidly spreading through his entire body.

"Five billion..." Yan Laosan's voice was completely hoarse.

He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and looked up, staring at Da Biao.

"The money is real gold and silver." The fat on Yan Laosan's face twisted crazily. "But you only have two hundred people. In this wilderness, even if you were all buried, no one would ever find your bones."

Yan Laosan turned his head and roared at the thugs behind him who were staring in a daze: "What the fuck are you standing there for? Pick up your weapons, call the people in town, and bring everyone here! Once this job is done today, I'll take you all to Macau to own the place!"

Hearing this, dozens of thugs had their eyes instantly bloodshot, and they raised their crude guns and iron pipes one after another.

Wealth moves the heart; five billion was enough to make this band of desperadoes tear the sky apart.

Da Biao pulled the half-length alloy baton from his belt.

"Brother." Da Biao spoke to the satellite phone in his chest pocket. "I ran into a local tyrant who demanded one hundred million to let us pass. Now that he's seen the money, he's changed his mind and is planning to bury us all."

From the other end of the phone came the sound of a lighter being flicked to light a cigarette—click—very crisp.

Da Biao took a step forward, and two hundred security guards instantly tightened their grip on their batons, taking a unified step forward. The gravel on the ground crunched underfoot.

There were no superfluous movements, only a murderous aura ready to draw blood at any moment.

"Da Biao." Lu Chen's voice came through the speakerphone, still as calm as ever, even carrying a hint of just-woken-up laziness.

"Here."

Lu Chen took a drag of his cigarette. "Ask him what the annual fiscal revenue of his shitty county is."

Da Biao looked up at Yan Laosan. "Our boss asks: What is the annual fiscal revenue of this shitty county of yours?"

Yan Laosan was stunned for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed wildly, laughing so hard that the shotgun in his hand trembled.

"Damn it, you're about to die and you're still worrying about the county's ledger?" Yan Laosan spat on the ground. "Heishui County is so poor even dogs won't shit here; the annual fiscal revenue is less than one billion. What, is your boss trying to help the county with poverty alleviation?"

Laughter spread among the group of thugs, filled with extreme mockery and arrogance.

Da Biao ignored him, standing in place and waiting for instructions from the phone.

"Less than one billion." Lu Chen laughed on the phone, his laughter very cold.

"Da Biao."

"I'm here, Brother, what are your orders?"

"Go get the encrypted communicator from Old Zhou's car." Lu Chen flicked the ash off his cigarette. "Bypass the county and contact the dedicated line of the Heishui City Committee's top leader's office."

Yan Laosan's laughter got stuck in his throat, and he stared at Da Biao vigilantly.

Upon hearing this, Old Zhou didn't need Da Biao to tell him twice. His hands trembling, he pushed open the car door, stumbled to the passenger seat, dragged out a black briefcase from under the seat, and scrambled over to hand it to Da Biao.

Click. The case popped open, revealing a multi-band satellite communicator with military-industrial markings.

Da Biao knelt on one knee, placed the communicator on the gravel ground, and pulled out the antenna.

"Brother, the line is connected, signal is at full strength." Da Biao pressed the recording playback button.

Yan Laosan gritted his teeth and raised his gun again. "Playing god, are you? In this Gobi Desert, I am the City Committee."

"Repeat my words exactly." Lu Chen's voice cut through the satellite phone, every word incomparably clear.

"In the name of the Jiangcheng Chenguang Electronics Factory headquarters, I am donating ten billion in cash to the Heishui City Committee in full. Purpose: To build a highway running through the entire city."

Yan Laosan's face twitched violently; he thought he had misheard.

The iron pipe in Yellow-Hair's hand could no longer be picked up at all.

Ten billion? A donation?

Da Biao's fingers tapped rapidly on the communicator's keyboard, tuning into the emergency contact band of the local government's public affairs channel.

"There is only one condition." Lu Chen exhaled the last puff of blue smoke and stubbed out the cigarette butt.

"Have the City Committee immediately nationalize the mining rights for the Heishui No. 3 Coal Mine wasteland, and unilaterally terminate all historical legacy contracting contracts."

Lu Chen's voice was cold enough to freeze ice shards.

"Then, specially approve its transfer to Chenguang Electronics Factory. I give them ten billion, they give me this wasteland. Do you understand?"

Da Biao nodded heavily. "Understood."

Yan Laosan was completely panicked. He rushed off the hood of the car, dragging the shotgun as he charged forward. "Shoot them! Smash that shitty machine!"

Bang.

Da Biao didn't even look up; two security guards beside him raised their legs and delivered a heavy kick.

Yan Laosan's two-hundred-pound body flew backward like a broken sack, slamming heavily into the front bumper of the Land Rover, causing the front of the car to visibly cave in.

The shotgun flew out of his hand and fell into the mud.

The surrounding thugs were just about to step forward when two hundred alloy batons were raised in unison. With just that one movement, they forced the dozens of men back three steps.

Da Biao pressed the dial button.

Beep... Beep...

Amidst the rough sound of the Gobi wind, the sound of waiting for the connection was amplified by the speaker, striking everyone's eardrums.

Yan Laosan rolled on the ground, clutching his stomach, his mouth full of blood. He stared fixedly at the communicator, true fear finally appearing in his eyes.

He could walk sideways in this area because the heavens were high and the emperor was far away, plus he usually greased the palms of the county officials quite a bit.

But with ten billion in earmarked funds for road construction being slammed down, this wasn't just money—this was an incredible political achievement that the entire City Committee couldn't touch in ten years.

For the sake of this money, the city could flip the entire Heishui County over three times. Never mind the contracting contract of a washed-up mine tyrant like him; even if it were Yan Laosan's ancestral grave, the City Committee's bulldozers could level it overnight.

He wasn't just kicking a steel plate; he was using his head to collide with a high-speed train coming straight at him.

Click.

The communicator connected.

"This is the Heishui City Committee general duty office." A capable female voice came through.

Da Biao picked up the microphone.

"Jiangcheng, Chenguang Electronics Factory, dispatched security manager. Please transfer me to your City Committee's top leader. There is a ten-billion targeted donation that needs to be deposited immediately before 3:00 PM this afternoon." Da Biao repeated the words exactly.

The breathing on the other end paused noticeably for a few seconds. Sounds of frantic document flipping and a water cup being knocked over came through.

"Please... please wait a moment. Immediately switching you to the number one internal line."

A harsh dial tone came from the phone as it encrypted the transfer.

Yan Laosan lay in the mud, his fingers digging deep into the gravel. He knew that as soon as this line connected, his dream of being a local emperor in the Great Northwest, along with this group of men under him, would be crushed into meat paste by the official armed police convoy before dark.

Da Biao stood up, carrying his baton as he walked over to Yan Laosan. He looked down at him from above.

"Our boss is kind-hearted." Da Biao used his baton to nudge the shotgun on the ground.

Da Biao looked at the trembling Yan Laosan and pressed the speakerphone button.

The red dedicated line on the City Committee's top leader's desk was connected.