Super Trick or Treat System

Li Huai knelt by his father's side and heard the old man's last words in time. "...Chronicles...They took...the five passwords. Lee Bad, you must get them back, Lee Bad, before the last password is completed and the secret is discovered. You must, do you understand? All lives The future of this planet depends on it."

"...?" Li froze. "Tell me who I will..."

But the workload is too great. The old man took a step back, his warning was not completed.

clue? Li Huai (hired the best detective on Mars, but went after the guilty in vain. He himself followed the footprints and questioned all his father's former friends and colleagues. He had no evidence to leave him nowhere. This is a polished Farba button. During the war, Randall Starr tore off the coat of the attacker. This button is the kind of button used by members of the limited upper class. The boss It is a feudal world that has been thrown back and used. The powerful hegemons have inherited political and financial powers, and they still have a strong influence on the originally partially modern society.

Li Bad (That’s how I knew it-his father was murdered, and the Chronicle Code was taken away by someone at the highest end of the systemic world.

As time passed, Li Huai's grief passed and he began to follow in his father's footsteps. In theory, he is the acting head of Three Planets. However, since the shipping company worked smoothly with hundreds of highly efficient officials, he had little to do. After graduating from the Mars Institute of Technology, he visited the system on his space yacht. It was this trip that brought him back to the poverty and harsh conditions in the world.

On Venus, he had seen powerful landowners becoming fertile and prosperous, while the local Kamalis and Salakan people worked in the swamp. On Mars, he visited the luxurious buildings and estates-descendants of the first colonists-and a hundred miles away in the desert, he traversed the narrow narrow streets, the despised aboriginals on the western plateau.

There, Lee Bad Starr decided to add a dual purpose to his life. He will do his best to help the oppressed poor, and he will do his best to haunt the upper class. He is certain that one day, in some way, this effort will lead him to his father's murderer and stolen chronicle code. The only problem is the time element.

He spent six months in his father's private library, studying everything he could find in locks, time vaults, closed rooms, and impenetrable walls. In-depth reading of various topics such as criminology, micro-fingerprints and robotic detectors will take another six months.

He started working quietly at first, a small piece of art obtained from the collection of some greedy senior millionaires. But gradually, the bold adventures of those thefts, in addition to the blue card telling the story, absolutely lack of clues have attracted people's attention. In the past year, his fame spread to Pluto. In six months, Nebula will become synonymous with all tongues.

The police swore to take action, the press laughed, and the public expressed admiration for the favor of the oppressed.

It's all over now. Nebula is a criminal. He was charged with murder.

Lee Bad Starr slowly got up and started getting dressed. Interestingly, he never thought of this contingency. Someone saw an opportunity to profit from his name and used it with cold-blooded efficiency.

He lit a cigar and stood there smoking. A bell rang behind him, announcing that the videophone was calling. He stepped over the panel and touched it. The speaker makes sound, but there is no image on the visual screen.

"Good morning, Nebula!"

The electric shock swept him. His cigar slipped from his finger.

"Good morning, Nebula. Please answer."

Li Badi's fingers mechanically found the launch button and clicked it. But when he answered: "Who is talking?", he stood out of sight.

The female voice is sweet and full of musicality, and laughs happily. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you. If you can, you can call me Andromeda. Listen carefully now, Lee Bad Starr. I know your secret. I know you lead a double life, so you are very popular. After the Gentleman Raider Nebula."

The voice laughed again, but there was no mockery in it. "Don't worry, Bad Li, I won't let the cat out of my schoolbag. But I will, unless you agree to obey my orders. Is this clear?"

Li Badi was silent for a long time.

The voice continued: "It's okay, I didn't expect you to admit it. But listen. Nebula is no longer a champion of the poor. In the eyes of the press and the police, he committed murder. I know you are innocent. Now it’s eighty-three minutes. In exactly fifteen hours, you will go to the central office of the Ninth and Planet’s Crater City Trust Company. You will enter in any way you see fit. Open it from the label marked- Take out the three items contained in compartment 203. Did you know?-compartment 203."

With a light press, the videophone remained silent.

Li Badi turned the control switch on and off frantically. "Hello," he said, "Hello!"

He slowly turned around to face the sight glass on the opposite wall, which reflected that his characteristics had suddenly appeared. Within half an hour, his entire world collapsed. His identity is well known. He is wanted for foul play.

Yes, he was hunted before, but now the police and intellectual property personnel are unwavering in their efforts to arrest him. His followers will work tirelessly.

He walked to the window and looked down at Mars City. In the east, the main aerial ramp leads to the city’s spaceport, where there is a huge ditch, which is the starting point of the Grand Canal. Like a crayon painted on a piece of cardboard, it extends into the desert, dim and desolate.

At 11:15 that night, Lee Bad Starr opened a panel in the room, replaced it with a cylindrical shell, touched a control, and then sat down. Except for a slight shock and hum, there is no sensation of movement. After a while, the tube cage shook again, the door slid open, and he climbed up to a small lighting booth in the dark center well. A narrow ramp kept going up, and then he quickly stepped onto the street.

He is now standing at the intersection of Planet Nine.

Lee Bad Starr wandered across the street, watching every passerby from the corner of his eye. Before the Crater City Trust Company entered, he stopped to light his cigar. He stood there, smoking quietly, while the turban from the northern desert country dangled over his body, dragging his awkward third leg.

Then he slid off his shirt to reveal the small carrying case tied in the middle. Opening it, he chose a thin metal tube from the object, one end closed. For this, he quickly fixed a small ball with hardened stearin on it. He unscrewed the cap of the clay ball and inserted a small particle.

He used his flying fingers to push the tube to the lock. That lock is not the best, but it is one of the most reliable anti-theft devices on the market.

When each pulsation in the tube was delivered to his hand, he would carefully count the seconds. On the tenth, he stiffened. There was a dull hum, a little smoke, and the grating and clinking like broken glass.

Then he entered the room and walked along the central passage of the head office. He doesn't need a torch. This place was illuminated by overhead carburetor, and he knew he could be clearly seen from the street.

He quickly walked to the end of the office, which was a huge arched door made of beryllium steel embedded in a square hole stone. The frame was fixed to a natural rock pier ninety feet below. The whole structure is as indestructible as human intelligence.

Lee Bad Starr crossed the low railing separating the vault from the office. He opened the small bag again and took out a tightly rolled Martian papyrus from a lower compartment.

He is now working quickly, putting into effect the plan he made when he visited the office earlier in the day. Then, when he stood with a trust company official to discuss the financial situation, he managed to slide out a miniature camera and took a quick photo of the back wall of the office without observing it.

Back to his apartment, it took a moment to transfer the scenes from the negatives to the elastic papyrus.

He stood on the railing and fixed the ends of the papyrus to the side walls. Then, using all his strength, extend it to the opposite wall across the entire width of the office.

After speaking, he slipped away behind the screen, smiling happily. Now let passers-by look at the windows of the street. He would see an empty office, a vault clearly visible. No one from the street can know that the dome is an enlarged photo on the screen, and behind the screen is the most wanted child on Mars-Nebula!

He spent a while investigating the large vault. He murmured admiringly: "Craig Oran (-, series No. 4 model." "Mercury time lock, barbed accompanying cup with separate mica cap protection. It will be difficult."

He took a pair of earphones from his suitcase, buckled them, and then connected them to the panel under the main dial. Slowly, he began to turn the dial, bewildering his ears.

The silence of the office weighed on him. When the night's "Earth Express" exploded to its cradle, there was a hollow roar from far away.

He continued for a few minutes. Then his brow frowned. He muttered: "There must be some kind of shield behind." He opened the suitcase again and pulled out a miniature electric drill with a wedge drill. When he turned on the electric drill and pressed it on the panel, it buzzed.

When he had drilled a half-inch hole, he removed the drill and placed another pill in the opening. Ten seconds, then blue smoke came out. He put on the headphones again.

This time, the satisfied smile turned his head. In the receiver, he could clearly hear every metal sound as the troughed cup fell into place. He stretched out his hand now and pushed a huge column far into the slot. On the silent hinges, the huge dome door began to open.

But this is only the beginning. An hour later, he entered the second and third inner doors of the vault, and it took another half an hour before he found various archive rooms-203.

When he was about to open it, he stood motionless. What is he doing here? Why did he looted the dome, one of the most respected and ethical financial institutions in the city? He doesn't want anything. Not only that, he was also accused of murder on his head, and when all logic called him to hide, he deliberately seized the opportunity.

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