"Ahh

Terrible screams echoed through the "confinement room", but they were confined to the small room by the thick walls.

Fran, who was in a wheelchair, commanded his men to pull out their nails one by one from the handsless hands tied in front of him in the posture of Axzodia, although he couldn't understand the other party's curses, but the painful wail was the only medicine that Fran could soothe himself.

It's just that today, no matter how poignant the roar in front of him is, Fran can hardly feel a little calm, and that feeling, like his favorite song, suddenly becomes as ugly as noise.

However, Fran did not stop the movements of his subordinates, watching the scars on the other party's body, he thought more and more calmly.

It's not that he doesn't understand the reason for his current situation-

His position was threatened.

Jayston was an idiot, a man who had been abandoned by his family and thrown into a garbage-filled place like the city of San Lotan to eat and die.

But like most of the rich second generation who are treated like this, they are not short of money and knowledge, so he can get the opportunity to develop here, if he is replaced by a self-made rich man, even if he tries his best to speak, the other party will probably only regard him as a madman.

But now it's different, even if his crooked Trojan horse has succeeded, it will only earn a few dozen magical items a year at most, which is completely incomparable to a craftsman who can create magical items every day.

Once his abilities are fully proven, the costly and difficult to keep secret Trojan Horse project can easily be banned, and when the time comes, knowing the existence of the craftsman, he may be directly wiped out.

Even if that idiot couldn't think of something to kill him, it would be difficult for him to take revenge on these demons.

His life has been completely destroyed by those demons, and now the driving force that sustains him to live is to take revenge on these monsters.

But once he is out of Jeston's financier, he doesn't even have the capital to restart the revenge plan, even if Jaston has sent him a lot of money over the years, but the Trojan Horse plan needs not only money, but also bait that can be used to send him to death, a trustworthy armed team, and a news channel that can grasp the dynamics of the city.

And these are all things that he does not have, and even with his crippled body, it is difficult to find a qualified new partner.

"Alright, that's all for today." Fran activated his wheelchair and returned to his residence, and after thinking for a long time, he finally found a ridiculously simple cell phone and dialed a number.

"Who are you? Where did you know this number? A calm voice with a somewhat condescending tone came from the earpiece, Fran frowned slightly, but still said:

"It doesn't matter how I know this number, don't you want to know, Mr. Jonsson, how the hell did your brother get his hands on so many magical items?"

"Oh? Interesting, what do you want? The voice on the other side of the earpiece immediately became warm, and although it was not face-to-face, Fran seemed to be able to see a face that was rapidly changing from cold to kind.

A hideous smile was drawn on his scarred face, and he slowly spoke into the microphone:

"Trust me, what I want is not worth mentioning to you......"

……

"And the ...... Well, it should be five now? Or six copies? Feng Xue felt the [knowledge] of the [money printing machine] label feedback increase again, and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly, there is no doubt that the number of people who know their news has increased again.

However, he also discovered one thing, that is, ordinary bodyguards, even if they know his ability, do not seem to increase their awareness of the money printing machine label, which may be due to the fact that they know very well that no matter how much money they "print", it will not belong to them.

According to this principle, the person who can charge this label must be the person who is confident that he can get enough benefits from himself.

"Looks like someone is going to rob the prison soon." Feng Xue sighed slightly in his heart, but he didn't plan to take this opportunity to escape, or rather, he didn't think that the person who robbed the prison would be stupider than Jeston.

Not to mention that someone robbed the prison itself, it is just a speculation, maybe it was just Jaston who reported his own affairs to his backer?

......The knocking sound at the iron cage interrupted Feng Xue's thoughts, he turned his head to look and found that it was the secretary next to Jeston, after refining the phantom for the second time, Jeston's attitude towards himself obviously had a new change, not only the person who sent to deliver the meal became the secretary, but the type of lunch also changed to Spanish seafood risotto that looked much more serious than fried chicken.

"Sir, this is today's lunch, the boss said, if you have anything you want to eat, you can also tell me directly." The secretary used the phonetic to turn the flame Chinese bluntly, but the anti-heaven effect of translating konjac made Feng Xue even easily understand such a strange mixed language.

However, he did not reveal this ability to understand, but was stunned as if he knew nothing, and then with the help of the grammatical errors in the other party's words and the fact that the other party did not understand Yan Chinese, he distorted the meaning of his words, pulled out two from the word card, and showed them to the other party.

"Comfortable", "clothes", ......

The secretary frowned, and wanted to say that I was talking about what I "want to eat", not what I "wanted", but considering the possible loopholes in the machine translation language, I had a headache for a while, but I still followed the lines prepared before:

"I need to report it to my boss."

Hearing this, Feng Xue nodded in understanding, then took the plate handed by the other party from the delivery port, walked to the side of the bed and began to eat.

The food, as always, is Colombian, with heavy salt and oil, but much stronger than last night's super salty fried chicken.

However, what Feng Xue cared about at this time was not whether the meal was good or not, but the tableware attached to the plate.

Although he is not equipped with a Western knife and fork set, he also has a plastic spoon, a bow dental floss and a few napkins, which can be said to be quite intimate compared to yesterday's situation when he had to rub his hands on his prison uniform.

Although this kind of intimacy itself is still based on the prisoner, it at least means that his status here has changed from an ordinary prisoner to a prisoner who needs to be treated well, and this little change in thinking is enough to make the guard's vigilance drop by several units.

A bowl of paella quickly went down, Feng Xue patted her belly and began to pace around the cell to eat, although this seemed unnecessary, but it was to leave some stereotypical impressions on the jailer, according to the spy boss in a certain work, as long as you repeat a certain behavior day after day, so that it becomes a habit, you can easily get a period of freedom.

Just as he was thinking about his escape plan, a series of footsteps sounded again, Feng Xue turned his head to look, but saw that the secretary who had brought him food before appeared in the field of vision again, and in his hand, he was holding a tray with neatly folded fabrics-

"Your clothes, sir."