Chapter 1796 (1/2)
'00:35'
...
'00:51'
...
'01:11'
...
the number keeps growing, breaking one, breaking two, and soon more than three minutes. The old man has thought that the other party may play a positive number explosion, rising to a certain number, which is a boom.
But.
There is no movement until the end of the fifth five year plan.
Isn't it.
Is it really a prank?
”Close.”
”Yes.”
Site.
The people who went in braved cold sweat, hardened their heads, and watched the red light flickering. Even if it was a positive number, it could not make him calm down. There was absolutely no body.
Calm down.
Calm down.
These may be fake.
Yes.
It must be.
If it is really bombed, the other side can definitely go on the list of terror and non organization. Compared with killing their ”results”, the cost is too high, and the gain is not worth the loss. Yes, these must be deceiving.
Close up.
Get closer.
”Take one out.”
”I see.”
Carefully, picking up one of them, he began to step back and his heart rate accelerated unconsciously. The weight was too textured, not fake. Exit the plant, put it down, and the bomb remover comes forward.
In a minute.
”False.”
This conclusion.
It's a relief for everyone.
”Whoo.”
”Great.”
”I'll tell you how dare they.”
”A false alarm.”
“。。。”
Site.
And all the people who pay attention to this matter can't help but put down the stone in their hearts. Once it's blown up, many things will be irreparable. It seems that it's really a prank and disgusting to them.
“FUCK。”
”Scared to death.”
”Take a sip of wine, and it's a shock.”
”No, it's just to confirm one. Go in and confirm the others.”
“。。。”
Next.
Professionals enter the factory and confirm one by one.
Fake.
Fake.
Fake.
...
more than 20 of them have been confirmed in a row, all of them are fake. Besides, the ones placed on the outside are more and more simple, some of them don't even pour iron chips.
A shell.
One display.
It's a complete insult to their intelligence.
”Asshole.”
”Shoddy.”
”False.”
”False.”
”Really.”
”False.”
”False.”
For each confirmed one, directly throw it on the ground.
Suddenly.
His hand stopped.
No.
What just seemed to be missing? When the reaction comes, the face turns black.
”Really?”
He was so scared that his legs began to soften. He hurriedly looked at a pile of red things not far away. He had just thrown them at will. Now he had to find them again. His heart was occupied by a group of alpacas.
”Look.”
Run.
”False.”
”False.”
”False.”
“。。。”
He's going crazy. This kind of repetitive work is... It's too exciting. It's more exciting than bomb dismantling. Soon, he found out the real thing.
”Really.”
”Well!”
”What is that?”
Just about to be demolished, the increase stopped.
Next.
One black.
There was no response.
“。。。”
What do you mean? Look down on him? Drop your own line? After a little effort, he finally made sure that this real guy, who cut himself, didn't give him the chance to dismantle, and, not one.
It's a collective disconnection.
Look up.
A lot of the red light is black.