blackstone code

Chapter 919 Proteins

After listening to the speech of the executive director, Lynch did not directly express his position. He thought carefully for a while and said, "I need to think about it."

"Of course, of course, Mr. Lynch, such an important matter must require a lot of consideration." He took out a business card from his pocket, stood up respectfully, bent over, and tucked it in one hand He held the hem of the clothes in one hand and handed it over.

"This is my business card, you can call me anytime you have any ideas."

Lynch took the business card. On the card was the person's name, position, and several phone calls. It also marked what time period and what call could be made. It was very detailed, and even weekends and private time were included.

The Commonwealth's desire for freedom is like a man's desire for a woman... that may not be an accurate description, but it's not too far off.

Therefore, the vast majority of federal people refuse to talk about anything related to work outside of working hours.

Whatever it is, they quickly get bored, annoyed, and even lose their temper.

But this guy doesn't mind doing it.

Lynch put down his business card, which is also a very distinctive feature. The executive in front of him is likely to be facing a change, a choice.

In the past, he will become a member of the upper class.

Stepping over, he is still the high-income middle class.

"I've made a note, do you have anything else to do?" Lynch put his business card on the table, and he looked at the director of the executive department.

The latter stood up quickly, "There is nothing else, I'm sorry to bother you at this time, then... I think I should go too."

Lynch supported the armrests of the chair with both hands, and straightened up. He reached out and shook hands with the head of the executive department, "Good night, sir, you know how to leave."

"Good night, Mr. Lynch."

After watching the supervisor leave, Lynch looked at the business card in his hand, shook his head, opened the drawer casually, and put it in instead of carrying it with him.

He hasn't done anything in the past three days. He has been paying attention to the communication between Sanchez and Mr. President.

I have to say that the status of Special Advisor to the Security Committee is still very useful. As the son of a warlord, Sanchez is an important young man who may inherit the position of a warlord in the future. fucked him.

On the one hand, this kind of stalking is indirect protection, and on the other hand, it prevents them from doing bad things.

These people wantonly destroy the social order in their own country, and everyone is a very dangerous person.

If it weren't for the fact that the relationship between the Federation and Mariro is not bad... yes, and the policies and attitudes of Mr. President and the Department of International Affairs towards Mariro have changed, Sanchez might not even have a chance to enter the Federation.

Now that he has come in, in order to avoid the harm he caused to this society, it is reasonable to stare at him.

Today is the third day, and he still hasn't dealt with his uncle CEO, which somewhat makes Lynch feel that he is not as strong as he is in the conference room.

At least his ability is not worthy of his strength.

If Mr. President can continue for a while, then Lynch will have other ideas.

If he doesn't last long enough to transfer the stake to his nephew, aka Sanchez, then there's nothing left to think about.

Even in this matter, Lynch is not easy to intervene now, after all, this is the other party's "housework".

Just as Lynch was guessing how long Mr. President could last, Mr. President was suffering a terrible punishment.

Sanchez was wearing a black shirt with his sleeves rolled up high, and there was a layer of thick body hair on his exposed arms.

Besides that, there are all kinds of wounds.

His body is not fat at all, it can be said to be very standard, a fat man will not live long in Mariro——

When the assassins strike, running slowly means ineligibility to continue living, so Sanchez is in great shape.

He was a little sweaty, and the Mr. President sitting in front of him was stripped naked, with scars all over his white and tender body.

Using the word white and tender to describe a middle-aged man... is indeed a bit too much, but this is the truest manifestation.

Living in the favorable environment of the Federation, enjoying the most advanced medical technology and technological inventions, his aging degree is much lighter than that of his peers.

Looked maybe in his forties, maybe a little younger.

But now, this "good body" is full of wounds.

Some are still bleeding, some are no longer bleeding.

Knife cuts, burns, puncture injuries, and even electric injuries.

Two wires are connected between Mr. President's legs, one is red and the other is green, which looks a little scary.

"As long as you sign, I will persuade the general, and I will not arrest you and return to Marillo." Sanchez was still trying his best to persuade, but no matter how much he persuaded, his uncle refused to sign.

The signature of the Federation has always been an anti-counterfeiting measure, where the stroke starts, where the highest point of a certain stroke reaches, and finally falls before or behind a certain line.

These are all anti-counterfeiting means, and only they and the institutions that have left the original signature know.

Otherwise, so many checks are issued every year without any definite anti-counterfeiting measures, banks would have gone bankrupt long ago, and major enterprises would have been hollowed out by people long ago.

It is precisely because of these inconspicuous means of defense that the foundation of the Federation's financial and economic prosperity is formed.

No country has ever been able to use various checks on a large scale like the Federation. Although problems often occur, these problems are within an acceptable range.

If Mr. President does not sign, the equity in his hand will not be transferred to Sanchez, and the anonymous companies that hold the shares on behalf of him will not transfer the equity to Sanchez. Sanchez has no status in the company.

He still remembered the contempt and questioning of Lynch and others three days ago, and the anger at that time was still affecting his emotions.

Mr. President, who had been tortured for two days, looked up at Sanchez, his mouth slightly opened and closed, as if he was saying something.

Sanchez leaned over. This was the first time in the past two days that Mr. President had the desire to express himself, but then he felt some heat and humidity on one side of his cheek, and the sliding liquid flowed down his cheek. .

Blood mixed with saliva, so fucking disgusting.

Sanchez walked to the edge of the switch, he looked at his uncle indifferently, and then pushed the switch knife.

The moment the electricity was turned on, Mr. President trembled. After the Federation passed the "Electricity Safety Law" in the early years, in order to avoid casualties caused by the wrong use of electrical appliances and power supplies, the indoor voltage was within a safe range.

Electricity was definitely a revolution, but it did bring a lot of tragedies at that time. Some people were electrocuted to death because of wrong use or just out of curiosity, which made the federal society taste the pain that must be endured in the development process.

Fortunately, these problems are now resolved.

After ten seconds of motoring, Sanchez pushed the switch knife, and the tense Mr. President sat loosely on the chair.

Where his arms were bound with steel wires, some of the steel wires had embedded themselves in the flesh.

There is a slightly burnt smell, those are the smell of hair, and there is also a foul smell.

Sanchez's assistant took the water hose and started to rinse Mr. President. In fact, it is much better now.

When he was electrocuted for the first time, he lost control of his bladder and bowels, and he stretched all over the place.

Now he has been hungry for two days without eating, and apart from urinary incontinence, there will be no more liquid or solid.

The ice-cold water seemed to refresh Mr. President, and he chuckled.

The laughing voice was very low, full of a sense of ridicule, and Sanchez's face turned black.

In fact, Mr. President and Sanchez both know that they are betting.

Mr. President bet that Sanchez and his brother dare not kill him when they can't get the equity, and if they do, they will completely lose every moment.

And Sanchez is also betting that his good uncle will not be able to withstand all kinds of torture, and will eventually sign his name on the carte blanche.

But from now on, his uncle seems more likely to win.

What he didn't expect was that this useless uncle could resist until now.

When the water stains were almost gone, Sanchez walked up to Mr. President and looked down at him, "Do you think there is only so much pain?"

"No, there is still a lot of pain, more than you can imagine, this is just the beginning!"

As he spoke, he walked to the side cart, put on surgical gloves for himself, and then took out a scalpel and a piece of cotton thread.

He walked back to Mr. President, "Have you thought about it, should you continue to resist, or sign the document?"

Mr. President spat out another mouthful of bloody smear, his voice was very hoarse and weak, "It hurts so much, but compared to death, the pain is acceptable."

"Either let me go, or...kill me, you have no choice!"

Mr. President's unexpected strength made Sanchez ashamed.

He put his hand on the top of his good uncle's head, pushed hard, and the chair fell backwards, Mr. President leaned against the ground, facing upwards.

His legs are also naturally separated.

Sanchez squatted down, skillfully removed a wire clip, tightened it with cotton thread, and swiped the knife...

It didn't hurt at all at first, maybe the electric current paralyzed the nerves, but after about 30 seconds, a kind of falling pain began to tear the will of Mr. President.

This kind of pain not only comes from the physical reaction, but also the psychological reaction!
He knew that there was actually nothing, but in his feeling, it seemed that there was a chain tightly fixed on his lower body, dragging him to hell.

Pain, despair, anger!
The room was filled with feeble growls and shouts.

　Got a doctor's appointment and it's running out

　
(End of this chapter)