Chapter 1069： Thirteen Club!

The dilapidated elevator did not immediately strike and retire, but carried Yang Sen and his son from the ground to the ground.

Yang Cheng has the feeling of beeping a dog. No matter who designed this unlucky building, he will inevitably be scolded and mentally injured, right? First, the car drove to the ground, and then took the landing platform to go down one floor or two sides. The car was left behind, and people took the elevator back to the ground. Isn't this tossing people?

However, he did not complain for too long, and the elevator stopped. Although the stopping action was a bit rude, there was a roller coaster that suddenly stopped in mid-air, but it was finally here. Yang Cheng secretly breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that his father was always closed. He was irritated with his eyes as it should be. Unbuttoning the button of his neckline let the wind blow, and the elevator door opened slowly in a few seconds.

I thought I could see some strange Yang Orange, but after the elevator door opened, the scene on this floor was almost the same as when I just entered the underground garage, except that it was still dark.

However, Yang Sen walked out of the elevator in a familiar way, and walked forward according to the looming indicator light on the ground, as if he was not worried about the steps and thresholds on the road tripping him.

Since entering this building, Yang Cheng has been paralyzed by these strange scenes, no nonsense, just following the old man, the sound of'Gada Gada''s footsteps echoed, showing that they are in a closed In an open environment.

After walking for less than half a minute, it should have entered a larger space in the meantime. Eventually the two stopped in a room. Yang Sen turned the door back and turned on the light in the room.

Yang Cheng hurriedly blocked the dazzling light with her hand, and after a while she adjusted, lowered her arm and looked at the room.

The room is small in size, about 20 square feet, covered with excellent white knitted blankets, a huge single-sided mirror stands opposite the door, in front of the mirror is a black double sofa, and side tables are placed on both sides of the sofa. , Beverages are neatly laid out on the table.

In addition, there are stereos hanging on the four top corners of the room, and on the wall on the right hand side of the entrance door, there is an old-fashioned public telephone. Yang Chen guessed that it should be used to contact the waiter. He felt that this building is not good. It is the clubhouse of a mysterious organization, and Yang Sen is a member of this organization.

Thinking of this, Yang Cheng couldn't help being a little excited, MD, what does this organization do? Overthrow the right to zheng? Subvert the world? Monopoly the global economy?

In a short moment, countless thoughts flashed through Yang Cheng's mind.

Yang Sen still didn't say a word, just pointed to the wine on the table and let Yang Cheng pour it by himself, then sat on the sofa and continued to close his eyes and rest.

Yang Cheng curled her lips to slander, "Is this Nima a dumb club? You still don't want to talk?"

Just when he satirized the weirdness of this ruined place, through the single-sided mirror, a spotlight came on with a'pop', and the lamppost struck straight on the empty stage, with a pan in the center of the stage. With attractive golden sculptures of human figures.

Yang Cheng's heart tightened, and when she looked at her, she found that the sculpture portrays human expressions vividly, but because of the distance, she couldn't see who the sculpture was portraying. He only knew that the sculpture was smiling and smiling. sunlight.

The figure in the sculpture is dressed in an ancient court version of a tuxedo, a tall top hat, and a civilized stick around his waist. The whole person bows and smiles, and is vivid.

What surprised Yang Cheng most was that there seemed to be a number engraved on the tall cap on the sculpture's head, and Yang Cheng ignored his father's attitude. He leaned in front of the mirror and looked intently for a while before confirming the number. Yes-13!

"Sit down~"

Yang Sen finally spoke.

Yang Cheng was stunned, and she wanted to ask something, but after all she did not dare to refute. With a faint complaint, she took a step back and sank on the sofa.

I couldn't help but beat the drums, "Am I wrong? This is not a club, but an underground auction?"

Shouldn't it? He doesn't think there are any underground auctions in this world that he doesn't know.

No way, he can only endure the question and wait patiently, time will eventually give the answer.

In the space outside the single-sided mirror, except for the light shining on the sculpture, the rest of the space is still pitch black, but Yang Cheng knows that behind the darkness at the same height as himself, there should also be a similar single-sided mirror. Behind the mask is the same person as themselves.

It was another 10 minutes, and after Yang Cheng had drunk two glasses of pure Scotch whiskey, a long and hollow voice came from the speaker.

This is a voice from a man, and from the deep and thick feeling in the voice, it is not difficult to guess that the owner of the voice should be quite old.

"Everyone, welcome back to Club 13. How have you been in the past three years?"

Yang Cheng's pupils shrank, so it was called Club 13? It looks like a party once every three years?

Yang Cheng hurriedly retrieved the memory from his mind. Three years ago, he was still the prodigal son who lived like years and was utterly unconscious. He didn't care about family affairs, but he still learned from his meager memory that it seemed to be the same three years ago. Over time, my dad also disappeared mysteriously for a few days. Could it be that at that time he came to London for the party of 13 clubs?

He didn't dare to look straight, but just glanced at Yang Sen from his side of light. He seemed to be very familiar with the voice, but he didn't have any interest in it. He looked at the sculpture in the field with a serious face.

The voice didn't seem to be ready to hear any answer, but said to himself, "It seems that everyone has a very good time. As No. 1, I am very pleased."

Yang Cheng snorted again in her heart, "The owner of this voice is number 1, so what's the number of dad?"

He thinks that since this club is called 13, its membership, or core members, should have only 13.

However, in this way of gathering, Yang Cheng has a feeling of being in the clown organization. At least from the description of Gareth Lopez, their meeting scene is similar to the current 13 club.

MMP, this is not a killer organization, is it? Yang Orange started to guess again.

But he forgot about it when he turned a corner, and he could kill a chicken and kill a man even with his physique? Stop it.

No. 1 continued, "Originally, according to the process, everyone talked about things, and then you could leave and go home, but this year is a bit different. Before coming, I specifically asked everyone to bring their successors, just to avoid the tragedy 30 years ago. Staged, so this year 13 clubs welcomed 13 outstanding young talents. Let us welcome the arrival of younger generations."

Just like before, No.1 pauses for a while after every passage of speech, which seems to be to leave room for everyone to answer the conversation, but in fact, Yang Cheng did not hear any sound other than No.1.

But he was keenly aware that when the 1st mentioned the tragedy 30 years ago, his father's expression suddenly became darker. Although it was fleeting, he did not escape Yang Cheng's eyes. 30 years ago? In 1985? What happened that year? Let No. 1 break the rules?

Yang Cheng didn't know all of this, and could only listen quietly, but this time No. 1 was silent for a long time, almost 5 minutes, and he hasn't continued to speak. Is it really speechless, deliberate? I don’t know if it’s too much to say half-hearted appetite?

At this time, different from before, at one o'clock in front of Yang Cheng, a red light was lit, and then a different voice from No. 1 rang, "No. 1, when did you become so long-winded? ?"

Yang Cheng's eyes lit up. It seemed that the number of each member did not represent status, because he didn't hear the awe of No. 1 from this person's mouth, but rather a touch of playfulness.

No. 1 immediately answered, "No. 2, you are still so annoying."

No. 2 immediately let out a harsh laugh, just like Donald Duck, Yang Cheng nodded to himself, No. 1 was right, and the laughter was disgusting.

However, Yang Cheng observed the position where the light was turned on when No. 2 was speaking, and compared the position of the sculpture with the room where he was located, and could not help but speculate that they might be in a cylindrical space, the position of the room corresponds to the dial, but the center The sculpture of's just represents No. 1, and the numbers of the other members are deduced by analogy. The one at one o’clock is No. 2, and the one at two o’clock is No. 3. According to this logical reasoning, the father facing the sculpture should be No. 7. Grandma is a ball, if you sort by strength or status, Dad's position in the 13 club is not low, absolute mid-strength!

After the sentence of No. 2, No. 1 finally started to advance the agenda, "Okay, don't talk nonsense, let's talk about our own affairs first, and leave the matter of successors to the last."

No. 2 immediately said, "If this is the case, let me talk about it first. There is a business here. The initial estimate is that the profit is about 1.5 billion. However, it is a bit complicated to deal with the Colombian rebels, but the profit is obvious, and I only want 30% of it, how about it? Is it a good deal?"

Yang Cheng was shocked Damn, it's too good, right? She just said 1.5 billion profit? Even if 30% is drawn, there are more than ten-figure dollars to make. He doesn't think that a club that has made such a powerful form will use yen as a unit!

As soon as the voice fell, there was another red light on the right hand side of No. 2, which was directly opposite Yang Cheng, and Yang Cheng muttered, "This should be No. 13?"

"No. 2, can you say something specific? You didn't rob the Colombian rebels' oil fields or diamond mines and found out that the extracted crude oil or diamonds could not be shipped out, so it was difficult to share them, right?"

Sure enough, the title of No. 2 in the next second confirmed Yang Cheng’s guess, “Fart, No. 13, is the Colombian primitive man whose hair has not degraded is my opponent? Do you like to do this business? Stop talking nonsense."

Listening to No. 2’s tone, I quite mean not to put No. 13 in his eyes. You can scold whatever you want. But when No. 2 is so embarrassed and angry, Yang Cheng has a kind of unspeakable refreshment in her heart, so she should be so frustrated. He, where is there a simple one here? You can't pretend to be a wolf with a big tail just because you are a second!

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