217: Chapter 217: The story of the farmer and the snake—you haven't heard it before, have you?

"Then couldn't you have kept those two behind!"

"Won't you need laborers in the future?"

Lin Fan smiled. "Laborers?"

"Do you think they look like laborers?"

"Dr. Xu, surely you must have heard the story of the farmer and the snake, right?"

Xu Zhixia didn't speak again. Perhaps Lin Fan was right, but she needed time to digest the cruel rules here.

On the beach.

In less than five minutes, the twitching of the Tall and Thin Guy stopped.

His pupils completely dilated, leaving only the wind blowing his tattered clothes.

Wang Laoliu stood five meters away from the corpse.

In his hand, the military knife was already slick with sweat from his grip.

From the bodyguard being thrown down to drawing his last breath, Wang Laoliu didn't move an inch.

He didn't check the pulse, nor did he tell Meng Tiantian, who was hiding to the side, to shut up.

He simply raised his head, his gaze sweeping past the long slope and locking fiercely onto the platform at the top.

He hadn't expected this kid to be so ruthless.

But upon careful thought, if he hadn't been a bit ruthless, the one standing up there probably wouldn't be him right now.

Meanwhile, inside the canvas tent.

The temperature was stiflingly hot due to the cramped space, and the air was thick with the cloying stench of evaporated cheap perfume mixed with the damp, salty-fishy smell brought in by the sea breeze.

Yang Ningcong leaned his back against a windbreak made of a few broken wooden boards, his hands struggling immensely to deal with the duct tape on his trouser leg.

That square object was tightly secured by the tape in the most fatal position.

Lin Fan had been ruthless when binding it, layering it thick, with the edges tightly pulling at his skin and flesh.

"Damn it!"

Yang Ningcong lowered his voice and cursed fiercely.

He forced his fingernails into the edge of the tape and recklessly ripped it outward with all his might.

A clump of hair at the base of his thigh was ripped out by the roots.

This sharp pain made cold sweat break out on his forehead and his eyelids twitch wildly.

Yet he forcefully swallowed his screams, afraid that those damned bodyguards and women outside would hear, and even more afraid of losing face.

This extreme sense of humiliation made him very displeased.

It took a full ten-plus minutes.

The square wrapped in the black waterproof bag finally detached from his skin.

With a dull thud, it dropped onto the sandy ground.

While pulling up his trousers, Yang Ningcong used the tip of his shoe to kick that thing away with utmost disgust.

What kind of piece of junk was this.

He squatted down, examining it by the faint light filtering through the gaps in the canvas.

His fingers pried open the outermost layer of plastic film at the opening of the bag.

The inside was tightly wrapped with moisture-proof cloth and black tape, and only from the damaged edge could one vaguely see a grayish-white lump, resembling hardened mud or plasticine.

Touching it, it varied in softness and hardness, exuding a dead-weight heaviness.

As for the electronic LCD display and the detonator wires connected to metal tubes, they were exquisitely wrapped at the very bottom, completely undetectable to the naked eye.

Yang Ningcong laughed in direct amusement.

Was this the return gift the intern spoke of?

A lump of broken mud? Or a piece of stinking meat?

A bottom-tier intern in the company whom he couldn't even be bothered to look at straight was playing local emperor up there just by stumbling into good luck.

Wang Laoliu, a mercenary brute who did things for money, acted like a big shot down below relying on two broken blades.

These two country bumpkins were playing word games on the Deserted Island, sending each other self-righteous, disgusting items to nauseate one another.

The funny thing was, they actually expected him, the Young Master of the Yang Family, to play the errand boy delivering this express package?

Who the hell did Lin Fan think he was.

And what the hell did Wang Laoliu think he was.

Daring to make him run errands.

Yang Ningcong let out a disdainful sneer, raised his leg, aimed the tip of his shoe at the package on the ground, and flicked it fiercely.

This densely wrapped unidentified object traced a low parabola, flying straight into the dead angle behind the worn sofa cushion.

There was a half-pit there, messily covered with a few blackened, stinky dried kelp fronds, which happened to completely conceal it.

Delivering items? The Yang Family simply didn't possess the gene in their bones to run errands for servants.

After getting rid of this unlucky thing, the driving-me-crazy foreign body sensation between his legs finally disappeared without a trace, though it seemed a bit itchy.

Yang Ningcong moved his legs, recovering a bit of the posture and confidence that a young master of a wealthy family should have.

Right at this moment, an extremely sharp screech suddenly came from outside.

"Ah...!"

The high-frequency female voice pierced through the tattered canvas; judging by the sound, it was precisely Meng Tiantian and the women he had brought out of the island.

Yang Ningcong had just swallowed a bellyful of anger, and this bit of noise directly ignited his temper.

He yanked open the half-hanging canvas door curtain and stepped directly out of the shed.

Coming to the side of those women, he snapped, "Are people dead, what are you ghost-howling about?"

"Young Master Yang, people really died..."

"Young Master Yang, wuwu... I'm scared..."

Yang Ningcong narrowed his eyes. At the junction of the gravel and the beach, two people were lying there.

Or rather, two pools of flesh that had lost the form of living people.

Two more bodyguards were dead; how many minutes had passed back and forth?

He tilted his neck back, looking high up along the long gravel slope.

The end of the slope was empty, and there wasn't even a shadow of a person at the edge of the platform.

Obviously, that intern hadn't walked down at all.

He had simply stood at the very top and dropped these two people down directly, just like discarding two bags of garbage.

A chill shot from the soles of Yang Ningcong's feet straight to the back of his head.

He recalled ten minutes ago, when he walked the exact same path with a knife pressed against him.

If that intern had given him such a kick from behind back then...

Yang Ningcong swallowed a mouthful of extremely dry saliva.

However, this fear only lasted for a very short time.

After all, he had already witnessed Lin Fan shooting and killing bodyguards with a crossbow; his psychological endurance threshold had long been forcibly raised.

No matter how miserable the manner of death, they were still just two corpses.

No matter how crazy that madman was, he had still fled down.

Furthermore, these were dogs hired with money by the Yang Family.

Human lives were like blades of grass.

Paying them tens of thousands of yuan a month was precisely so they could block death for their masters at critical moments.

Now that they were dead, as long as Yang Ningcong was still alive, once they returned to the mainland and paid out some compassionate compensation, this matter would be over.

This negligible deterrence was far from being as intense as his yearning to go home.

Yang Ningcong deliberately bypassed the blood on the ground, took a few extra steps on the clean sand, and came to Wang Laoliu's side.

He extended his right hand and said, "Give me that safe, I will boot it up and send a signal right away."