Homo sapiens

Colombo.

Seventh Street in the Docklands.

A Ceylon non-governmental environmental protection organization called Green Agriculture is headquartered here.

At this time, Ms. Bazaar, the founder of the environmental organization, was on the phone with the head of Asia of the Rockefeller Foundation.

"Ms. Basha, we are very worried about what happened in Ceylon recently. Qingye Group is a world-renowned genetically modified food producer and artificial food manufacturer..."

Ms. Bazaar had a pitiful expression: "Well! My companions and I are also very worried, but our power is too weak..."

"Our foundation has the obligation to fund such a just cause. I wonder how much money Ms. Bazaar needs to make Ceylon embrace green again?" A low-pitched inquiry came from the other side of the phone.

"If there are hundreds of millions of funds or hundreds of thousands of tons of organic food, I guarantee that it can be done..."

"Ahem..." The person on the other side of the phone seemed to be frightened by Ms. Bazaar's big mouth: "Ms. Bazaar, our foundation has limited funds, only 3 million U.S. dollars at most..."

Ms. Bazaar immediately exclaimed: "Oh buy it! What can you do with 3 million? We have so many members and we have to go to the streets to promote it. Do you know how dangerous this is?"

"Ms. Bazaar, you have to understand that you are not the only environmental organization in Ceylon?"

Ms. Bazaar was not intimidated by the other party and continued to complain: "But you want Ceylon to return to green agriculture. The food crisis some time ago put us under great pressure, so we need to spend more money!"

"Five million, this is the maximum..."

"No, no... at least 30 million..."

"It's too much, just 5 million, or I'll find someone else."

Finally, after more than 20 minutes of hard work, Bazaar successfully obtained a special aid fund of US$8.2 million from the Rockefeller Foundation.

In less than a week, 17 various civil organizations in Ceylon received more than US$360 million in special aid from Europe and the United States.

The money is then quickly transferred to personal accounts or company accounts in various offshore financial centers, and finally disappears bit by bit in the global stock market.

The person in charge of the South Asian Black Ship is a bald man.

At this time, he was in a luxury apartment building in Mumbai, Tianzhu. Looking at the feedback from the Ceylon branch, he smiled triumphantly.

November 11th.

Still in Colombo.

Ms. Bazaar and her friends, dressed in strange green clothes, then performed performance art in a small square.

She held a small loudspeaker and shouted to passers-by: "Please support green agriculture and boycott agricultural products that use pesticides and fertilizers, for the sake of future generations..."

Then the friends in green clothes behind her forcibly distributed petition signature sheets to passers-by, along with a bottle of vegetable juice for each person.

A passerby looked at the green vegetable juice in his hand, curiously opened the bottle cap, and then took a small sip. His face suddenly turned green: "Pfft..."

"Sir, you are so wasteful. This is made from organic vegetables. Drink one bottle every day. It is green and healthy..." Basha continued to preach.

"This thing? Drink a bottle every day? Then I would rather eat junk food." After the passerby finished speaking, he threw the vegetable juice on the ground and quickly ran away with his son.

While running, he also reminded his son, who was bewildered, "Stay away from these lunatics in the future."

Many passers-by were so disgusted that they ran away. When they saw the people from the environmental protection organizations, they immediately turned around and left, or pretended not to see them.

The European and American reporters who had brought cameras to record some "beautiful scenery" also had black question marks on their faces.

That's it?

Is this a joke?

The financial backers behind the scenes asked them to come over and shoot big news. Are these weird performance arts and disgusting vegetable juices and costumes the so-called big news?

Forget about these reporters.

Even John, Sunny, Holden and others, who had secretly disguised themselves and came to watch the fun, looked puzzled at this time.

Sitting by the window on the second floor of a coffee shop, John turned his head in shock and asked, "What are these guys doing? Performance art?"

"..." Sunny was also dumbfounded.

This is different from the script!

What about the promised rivers of blood, fires and devastation?

Damn it! Are these guys playing us?

At the end of the day, there seemed to be vigorous environmental protection propaganda, but in fact not a single fart was given.

Tianzhu.

Mumbai.

The bald Wade, who had just reported the good news to the headquarters, received an embarrassing report from his subordinates. He could hardly hold back his face and yelled:

"Are we going to spend 140 million to ask them to play monkey tricks? Tell them immediately. If they don't produce some results, I will make them regret coming to this world, Fake Squid!"

"OK! OK!" The subordinates were also very embarrassed.

Vedra stopped the subordinates who were about to leave: "In addition, inform the people of the Tiger Gang to take action immediately and don't delay, otherwise I will cut off their assistance."

"I'll inform you immediately."

Seeing his subordinates leaving in a hurry, Wade became angrier as he thought about it: "I'm so angry! A bunch of rubbish! Trash!"

In the Northern Province of Ceylon.

In the town where the Tiger Gang is entrenched, there are only more than 700 remaining members of the Tiger Gang, who are holding a secret meeting at this time.

Suddenly Chief Mook's satellite phone rang.

After he connected, a hoarse voice came from the other side.

"Chief Muke, it's time for you to take action."

"Why? We are not ready yet. At least we have to wait until we notify all the members, which will take about half a month." Muke did not agree stupidly.

"If you still want future assistance, then take action immediately to blow up the surrounding Qingye Group industries." The hoarse voice was calm with a hint of coercion.

"I need some time to prepare, at least a week." Mook continued perfunctorily.

"Two days, I will give you two days."

After saying that, the other person hung up the phone.

"Bah! A bunch of bandits!" the deputy leader spat indignantly.

Muke thought for a while, but was still reluctant to give up the continuous assistance in the future. After all, they were now at the end of their rope, and it would be difficult to develop again without external funding.

"Then get ready and show off first!"

Mook, who was arranging manpower, did not notice

The deputy leader who had spitted just now was looking at his back with a meaningful look.

Before Mook could finish speaking, he felt phantoms appearing in front of his eyes, and then his vision went black and he collapsed directly on the wooden table.

Not a moment.

Hundreds of figures wearing black armor appeared quietly in this small town.

Most of the members of the Tiger Gang were almost wiped out in one fell swoop, and some of the remaining members will soon be unearthed.

Even if there is a hidden thread that only leader Muke knows, in the hands of the Field Division, there is no information that cannot be squeezed out.

Falling into the hands of the field division, Mook and others could only admit that they were unlucky.

As the Tiger Gang was secretly eliminated, the non-governmental environmental organizations were also doing their jobs.

After more than a week, everything in Ceylon was still calm. At this time, the South Asian Black Ship finally realized that the chess pieces on Ceylon were unreliable.

The failure of this operation made the Black Ship headquarters somewhat dissatisfied with him and doubtful of his abilities.

When Wade's plan failed, he came up with another plan.

He knew that the Black Ship headquarters could not devote much power to support South Asia, so Wade chose to use its strength.

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