lan was rolling with the real deal, a crew of ace players who breezed through the talent screening like it was child's play.
Before long, fourteen of the bunch had made the cut and were herded into a spacious van, told they were headed off for some
intensive training.
Gazing out the window, lan overheard the chatter inside.
"Man, | can't believe | made it. Gonna rake in sserious dough this time."
"If I bag three hundred bucks, I'm set for life. Mom and Dad would feel proud."
"Dude, imagine rolling up in your own ride. We're talking about Wall Street, the glitziest joint on the planet."
lan leaned back, his eyes growing dark. Not the glitziest, more like the most terrifying hellhole imaginable.
The van kept pushing on, and besides lan and his companions, no one had a clue where this so-called intensive training was taking
place.
After a solid four-hour drive, they cto a halt deep in the mountain ranges.
The driver hopped out for a quick pow-wow, and then barked at everyone with dialect to disembark and line up.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtlan could catch the drift of the local lingo but the specifics of the driver's dialect eluded him. The message was clear though:
someone was coming to lead them, and they'd better put on a good show.
Fourteen were chosen this time, and fourteen arrived to take charge - one guide per recruit. The others were buzzing with
excitement, mistaking their guides for mentors ready to prep them for the big leagues on Wall Street, to earn more cash.
lan kept quiet, trailing along with the group. His people weren't by his side; they were scattered.
They trudged to a secluded cliffside where staff began roll call, and those named stepped forward.
After a headcount confirmed everyone's presence, they were waved through.
lan caught on instantly; this was no research hub's epicenter but a remote appendage, undoubtedly linked to the main complex.
Without a word, he followed down the entrance into a lobby, then through to a private room. Ssaid a mandatory health check
was a must, which included an injection of skind.
lan followed a figure in a hazmat suit into a room until they brandished a syringe. If that needle punctured his skin, he'd never
leave this place alive.
As the needle cat him, lan grabbed the wrist, flipped the syringe, and plunged it into the man's flesh. The man panicked
instantly, mouth opening to scream, but consciousness suddenly fled him.
lan swapped clothes with the unconscious man, then stepped out to find more hazmat-clad workers dragging away the fainted. A
worker approached, saw the downed man in lan's room, and quickly hauled him off.
lan's gaze met another worker emerging from the next room, and in that single glance, he knew this was one of his own. Without a
word exchanged, they both slipped into the throng of workers silently.
These low-tier workers were plentiful and restricted to this zone, barred from wandering elsewhere.
In just an hour, lan deduced the strict compartmentalization of the research base, something akin to an upgraded version of
Forbidden Island.
Forbidden Island might let you buy your way from Outer to Inner, but here, money was worthless. Worse than worthless, it could
spell your doom.
Meanwhile, in another hall of the research base, geniuses from around the globe were assembled. But the talk of the town was a
female Ph.D., dubbed the “monster” of the establishment.
Philip stood outside the glass facade, contemplating the living weapon they'd bred. The weapon was just eighteen or so, wildly
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmferocious, subdued daily with a custom tranquilizer.
The higher-ups were still debating who'd be the lucky recipient of this thing. A spark ignited in Philip's eyes, which was promptly
interrupted by approaching footsteps.
"Philip, interested?"
It was Phil. The weapon was notorious in the facility, the brainchild of the infamous female Ph.D. A pure killing machine, a
monstrosity spliced with various genes.
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