Chapter 1681: Chapter 797: Choices Are Important
The brightest spot in the cattle ranch base was swarming with activity. A few guys in lab coats stood around watching Abe Sanders getting beaten, their eyes glinting with a mixture of expectation and curiosity.
These mad scientists were undoubtedly brilliant individuals, the type who rarely bothered themselves with mundane tasks. It wasn’t that they were unwilling to help others—it was simply that wasting ti and energy on anything outside their research felt trivial and unnecessary.
But when circumstances demanded their attention, they could focus with impressive intensity. Take now, for instance: utilizing their years of scientific training, sharp observation skills, and an almost supernatural ticulousness, they had already noticed the beaten man’s precarious prospects.
It was clear—because the boss himself was present, watching. If the battered man failed to et the boss’s expectations, then the lab would certainly gain a fresh set of test subjects before the day was done.
Thus, as soon as Jas and the operative codenad Number One intervened to stop the beating, two of the lab coat gang promptly rushed in to play the role of impromptu dics.
Physical pain has a peculiar ability to eclipse greater crises. Much like people in earthquakes who, despite injuries, manage to press on in search of safety, while others wail inconsolably over minor cuts and miss their chance to escape entirely.
Abe Sanders, battered and bruised to the point of not knowing how many bones he had broken, couldn’t comprehend why his goodwill had earned him such an inexplicable beating. Was it just for asking a question? Was this really happening? Why hit him? Had reason evaporated entirely?
Of course, unless soone intended to beat him to death imdiately, Abe resolved he wouldn’t ask another question—any question. No way. Never again!
As the mad scientists dispersed, Abe felt he had learned a pivotal life lesson: don’t ask too many questions.
He shot a grateful look at Jas and Number One, the pair who had intervened. Naturally, most of his gratitude was directed toward Number One—because it was evident, though one of the rescuers shared his skin tone, they were following the lead of the other, the one with the yellow skin.
Beyond that, Abe focused on suppressing his pain and kept murmuring words of thanks to the two lab coats tending to his injuries.
As for the multitude of doubts filling his mind—such as “What is this place?”—he decided to swallow them down for now and leave them buried.
Jas, impatient as usual, saw that Abe wasn’t in imdiate danger and couldn’t help nudging Number One: “Can I go ask him questions right now?”
Number One surveyed the surroundings, then waved dismissively. The curious onlookers scattered, leaving only the two lab coats. Number One nodded to Jas.
Jas eagerly dashed over. “Hello! I know you must have many questions, but here’s your chance to prove yourself. Just answer my questions honestly, and I’ll resolve all your doubts!”
Abe nodded enthusiastically.
“Tell us everything you know about your uncle, Anderson Sanders…” Jas asked, his excitent palpable.
This was the sa approach Jas had used previously, accidentally convincing Paul Adams and nine others to cooperate. Now, he sought to replicate his success with Abe. But unfortunately, Abe was not like those nine. Abe still had countless unresolved questions, and hearing Jas’s request instantly made him suspicious—their target was clearly his uncle.
I can’t talk!
That was Abe’s imdiate reaction. He was now ‘kidnapped’ by enemies and knew his survival relied on his uncle. If he betrayed Anderson Sanders, all hope would be lost.
Faced with Abe’s silence, Jas froze—a dumbfounded expression on his face. This tactic didn’t work? A golden chance to score points and the guy didn’t even seize it? Was he an idiot?
At that mont, Jas hadn’t considered that Abe was still bewildered about the situation, completely unaware of where he was—this heavily guarded farm remained an utter mystery to him.
Such is the nature of these unpredictable technical types—their brilliance fluctuates wildly. One mont they’re unbeatable geniuses; the next, they wouldn’t outwit a pig.
Seeing Abe remain silent, Jas launched into another barrage of argunts, trying to persuade him. But Abe, convinced these people were his uncle’s adversaries, refused to risk jeopardizing Anderson Sanders’s rescue plan. Fearful of causing harm, he steadfastly kept his mouth shut.
Jas, at a loss, turned to glance at Number One.
Number One grinned and said cheerfully, “If he won’t talk, then beat him!”
In Number One’s opinion, Jas showed promise. He was committed to the base and trusted by the boss, who held him in high regard. The flaw, however, was his lack of ruthlessness—his tendency to falter and produce inconsistent results. More training was needed.
Jas clenched his teeth, shoving the lab coats aside before laying into Abe with punches and kicks. His strikes were diocre. Besides the fact that his work had made him stronger, he showed little improvent in technique.
But Abe, already covered in bruises from the earlier beating, was in agony. Even a light touch caused him pain, let alone this onslaught.
Abe found himself even more confused. The yellow-skinned man who seed amiable had just made a joking remark, and suddenly this man—the one who shared his skin color—was pumling him senseless.
Unable to endure, Abe shouted at Number One, his voice thick with grievance: “I don’t know what you want to say! Can’t you at least explain why you’re after my uncle? I could help relay the ssage!”
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