Chapter 230: Eating and Drinking for Free
Colombo.
Seventh Street in the harbor area.
A Ceylonese non-governmental environmental protection organization called Green Agriculture has its headquarters here.
At this time, the founder of the environmental organization, Ms. Basha, was on the phone with the head of the Asia region of the Rockefeller Foundation.
"Ms. Basha, we are very worried about what happened in Ceylon recently. Aoba Group is a world-renowned producer of genetically modified food and artificial food..."
Ms. Basha had a compassionate expression on her face: "Well! My companions and I are also very worried, but our strength is too weak..."
"Our foundation has the obligation to provide financial support for this just cause. I wonder how much money Ms. Basha needs to make Ceylon embrace green again?" A low voice asked from the other end of the phone.
"If you have hundreds of millions of dollars in funding, or hundreds of thousands of tons of organic food, I guarantee that I can..."
"Ahem..." The person on the other end of the phone seemed to be frightened by Ms. Basha's exorbitant request: "Ms. Basha, our foundation has limited funds, only 3 million US dollars at most..."
Ms. Bazaar exclaimed, "Oh my god! What can we do with 3 million? We have so many members, and we still have to go to the streets to promote. Do you know how dangerous this is?"
"Ms. Basha, you have to understand that you are not the only environmental protection organization in Ceylon?"
Ms. Basha was not frightened by the other party and continued to complain: "But you want Ceylon to return to green agriculture. The food crisis some time ago caused us a lot of pressure. This will cost more money !"
"Five million, this is the maximum..."
"No, no...at least 30 million..."
"It's too much, just 5 million, or I'll find someone else."
After more than twenty minutes of persuasion, Bazaar finally succeeded in obtaining $8.2 million in special aid funds from the Rockefeller Foundation.
In less than a week, 17 various non-governmental organizations in Ceylon received more than 360 million US dollars in special aid from Europe and the United States.
Then the money is quickly transferred to personal or corporate accounts in various offshore financial centers, and finally disappears bit by bit in the global stock market.
The person in charge of the South Asian black ships was a big bald man.
At this time, he was in a luxurious apartment building in Mumbai, India. Looking at the feedback from the Ceylon branch, he smiled triumphantly.
November 11th.
Still in Colombo.
Ms. Bazaar and her friends, wearing strange green clothes, performed performance art in a small square.
She held a small loudspeaker and shouted to passers-by: "Please support green agriculture and resist agricultural products that use pesticides and fertilizers, for the sake of future generations..."
Then the green-clad friends behind her forced passers-by to hand out petition signature sheets and gave each person a bottle of vegetable juice.
A passerby looked at the green vegetable juice in his hand, curiously opened the bottle cap, and took a sip. His face immediately turned green: "Poof..."
"Sir, how can you waste it? This is made of organic vegetables. Drink a bottle every day. It's green and healthy..." Basha kept preaching.
“This stuff? Drink a bottle every day? Then I’d rather eat junk food.” After the passerby said this, he threw the vegetable juice on the ground and quickly ran away with his son.
While running, he reminded his confused son: "Stay away from these crazy people in the future."
Many passers-by were so disgusted that they ran away. When they saw the people from the environmental protection organizations, they immediately turned around and left, or pretended not to see them.
The European and American reporters who had brought cameras to record some "beautiful scenery" now had a look of question marks on their faces.
That’s it?
Is this a joke?
The financial sponsors behind the scenes asked them to come and film big news. Are these weird performance arts and disgusting vegetable juices and costumes the so-called big news?
Never mind these reporters.
Even John, Sunny, Horton and others who had disguised themselves secretly and came to watch the fun were now confused.
Sitting by the window on the second floor of a coffee shop, John turned around in astonishment and asked, " What are these guys doing? Performance art?"
“……”Sunny was also dumbfounded.
This is different from the script!
What happened to the promised rivers of blood, flames rising to the sky, and devastation everywhere?
Damn it! Are these guys playing us?
At the end of the day, the seemingly vigorous environmental protection propaganda actually did nothing.
India.
Mumbai.
Bald Wade, who had just reported the good news to the headquarters, received an embarrassing report from his subordinates. He was so embarrassed that he started cursing:
"We spent 140 million just to ask them to do some monkey tricks? Inform them immediately. If they don't produce some results, I will make them regret coming to this world. Fuck it!"
"OK! OK!" The subordinates were also very embarrassed.
Wade stopped his subordinate who was about to leave and said, "Also notify the Tiger Gang to take action immediately. Don't delay, otherwise I will cut off their assistance."
"I'll notify you right away."
Watching his subordinates leave in a hurry, Wade became angrier and angrier. "I'm so pissed! They're a bunch of trash! Useless!"
In the Northern Province of Ceylon.
Inside the small town where the Tiger Gang is entrenched, there are only about 700 remaining members of the Tiger Gang, and they are holding a secret meeting.
Suddenly, Chief Muk's satellite phone rang.
After he answered the call, a hoarse voice came from the other end.
"Chief Muk, it's time for you to act."
"Why? We are not ready yet. We have to wait until all the members are notified, which will take about half a month." Muk did not agree foolishly.
"If you still want future assistance, then take action immediately and blow up the surrounding Aoba Group industries." The hoarse voice was calm but carried a hint of coercion.
"I need some time to prepare, at least a week." Muk continued perfunctorily.
"Two days. I'll give you two days."
After saying that, the person on the other end hung up the phone.
"Bah! A bunch of bandits!" The deputy leader spat indignantly.
Muk thought about it and was reluctant to give up the continuous aid in the future. After all, they were now at the end of their rope, and it would be difficult to develop again without external funding.
"Then let's get ready and pretend first!"
Muk, who was arranging the personnel, did not notice it.
The deputy leader who had just spat was now looking at his back with a meaningful look.
Before Muk could finish his words, he felt a series of phantoms appearing in front of his eyes, and then everything went black and he collapsed onto the wooden table.
After a while.
Hundreds of figures in black armor appeared silently in this small town.
Most of the members of the Tiger Gang have been caught in one fell swoop, and the remaining members will soon be dug out.
Even if it is a secret clue known only to the leader Muk, there is no intelligence that cannot be extracted from the hands of the field department.
Once they fell into the hands of the Field Affairs Department, Muke and others could only consider themselves unlucky.
As the Tiger Gang was secretly dealt with, those non-governmental environmental protection organizations were also procrastinating.
After more than a week, Ceylon was still calm. At this time, the South Asian black ships finally realized that the pawns were unreliable.
The failure of this operation made the Black Ship Headquarters somewhat dissatisfied with him and doubt his ability.
When Wade's plan failed, he came up with another one.
He knew that the Black Ship Headquarters could not provide much support to South Asia, so Wade chose to use the opponent's strength to his advantage.
