One Impossible Technology Per Day

“How will you obtain eight hundred sixty thousand in five days?” Lan-Zero asked. “Selling scrap won’t do it.” Lin watched the spinning propellers. “So we sell everyone the chance to believe they can win.” Across the city, a suited man removed his surveillance headset in Hanhai’s temporary laboratory. “Chairman Gu, he recovered only an ordinary plate. He’s selling it as scrap.” Gu Tingshan stared at footage of the alien fragment. At second seventeen, a blue pattern flashed—the same pattern seen reflecting from Lin’s palm during the inspection. “Ordinary?” The old chairman tapped the table. “Tomorrow, buy his debt, his boat, and the man.”