Enforcer Manual
Chapter 977 - 890: Dead Man’s Lottery_2

Chapter 977: Chapter 890: Dead Man’s Lottery_2

"Hey, friend, can I go to the Garbage Disposal Plant tonight?"

Having left the studio, William walked up to the bodyguard, handed him a cigarette, and asked ingratiatingly.

Somehow, he felt a premonition guiding him, as if something might happen at the "Garbage Disposal Plant" that very night.

"The plant? I thought you guys were terrified of that place?"

The bodyguard teased William, "I remember the last time you went there you even wet your pants."

The "Garbage Disposal Plant" was not exactly a secret facility, but ordinary people could not stomach the sight and smell of it. However, for enthusiasts of "garbage disposal," it was hardly any different from Heaven.

After the Dead Man’s Lottery show became a hit, the person in charge of the plant had also invited the crew for an exclusive interview. He hoped to show off their master-level artwork at the plant, but William had politely declined the offer.

"After all, I’ve been in Lute City for a while now, and I’ve received a lot of private messages from listeners lately asking me to talk about the ’Garbage Disposal Plant’ in the show. They’re really interested in it."

Upon hearing this, the bodyguard’s eyes lit up, "Okay, I’ll get in touch for you right now."

Throughout his days in Lute City, William had figured out the nature of these people. They were different from the Skull Gang; the plant’s person in charge claimed to be an artist, regarding the dissection of human bodies as high art, and he had always been dedicated to promoting this "niche art."

A few minutes later, the bodyguard returned to the studio, bursting with excitement.

"The boss said you can come over now; they’ve got a few dissection surgeries prepared for tonight."

Suppressing the mixed emotions of fear and excitement, William called everyone together and they headed downstairs, boarding a hovercar to the "Garbage Disposal Plant."

If they were lucky enough, maybe they could leave Lute City tonight.

William believed in the Conservation of Luck; the proponent of this law posited that people’s fortunes fluctuate, but with a long-term perspective, the ratio of luck to misfortune would ultimately even out.

During their time in Oasis, their fortunes had plummeted, and now it should be time for a rebound.

William had been to the plant once before but had not dared to look around.

The last time he woke up on the operating table, a spinning saw was less than 30 centimeters from his arm; he had used all his wits to get them to let him down from the table.

The bodyguard wasn’t wrong; when he got off the operating table, his pants were indeed wet.

But this time, he and the others were walking through the corridors outside the operating rooms, reevaluating the workshops that the plant’s person in charge had spent a fortune to build.

This place was indeed different from any black clinic, with corridors that were clean and bright, and the stench of blood not particularly strong. To the uninitiated, it would be impossible to associate it with a slaughterhouse.

From the outside, the facility looked more like some kind of underground research establishment, accessible only to top-end scientists.

"Look, that’s where you stayed last time."

The bodyguard stopped suddenly, pointing at a piece of equipment inside the room through the window.

"Years ago we still used traditional operating tables, with limbs restrained at the sides, cutting them up manually."

Now a proficient commentator, the bodyguard was one of the longest-standing employees of the "Garbage Disposal Plant," witnessing its vigorous development over the years.

"Artificial intelligence has advanced rapidly these past few years, and we’ve switched to machines now. Come take a look."

With that, the bodyguard approached one of the machines.

This was the first time William had taken a close look at them. The machine’s structure resembled a luxury simulation pod from a holographic game, capable of accommodating a whole person lying inside.

All of a sudden, he thought that if he could take this information back to District 17, featuring it in a special column might provoke considerable discussion.

After all, most people in District 17 knew nothing of the human trafficking issues in Oasis. This might ring alarm bells for those dreaming of striking it rich in the "outside world."

The bodyguard opened the pod door to show them the view inside.

"Now we just need to place the ’goods’ inside, and the machine automatically restricts the movement of their limbs. But what’s more important are the added functions of these machines."

While talking, a pale blue holographic operation screen appeared to the left of the bodyguard.

Mere glimpse of the text prompts on the screen was enough to make William’s scalp tingle.

The people at the plant could operate with greater precision in cutting the human body and witness the full process of "goods" undergoing surgery, which might be why the front half of the surgical pods were made with transparent material.

The operation screen corresponded with every part of the human body in detail, and even had emergency resuscitation features to prevent the "goods" from expiring too soon, ensuring they could last a very long time in the pods.

Sometimes, William really hated his overly active imagination.

"Do you see the device under the surgery pod? After the surgery is complete, with just a push of a button, the blood can be drained, followed by the automatic separation of usable organs from useless trash... If you’ve ever experienced old-fashioned disassembly surgery, you’d understand how convenient these features are!"

The bodyguard’s tone grew increasingly excited; they seemed to truly regard this as a form of high art.

"Everyone likes the process of surgery, but few want to clean up the aftermath."

These instruments spared them too much trouble.

In order to stop the other person from going on, William coughed softly and said, "It’s getting late; let’s not keep the boss waiting."

"Oh, right, there are several disassembly surgeries coming up soon, they’ll be way more thrilling than listening to me."

William followed behind the bodyguard.

Whether it was the effect of his imagination or not, he felt the smell of blood in the corridor growing stronger.

He glanced at the other members of the crew and noticed their pale faces, looking as though they wanted to vomit but were forcibly holding it in.

Upon reaching the isolation door at the end of the hallway, the bodyguard looked up at the surveillance camera with high spirits and said, "Hurry up and open the door, don’t let me miss the surgery!... Hello? Hello! Is anybody there? Strange, where did everyone go?"

A moment later, the bodyguard’s face changed.

He noticed something unusual.

The isolation door wasn’t locked. When he kicked the door in frustration due to the lack of response, the door, touted to withstand anti-materiel weapons, oddly swung open inwards.

He almost instinctively drew his gun.

Just behind the folding doors was the core area of the disposal plant, always guarded; ever since the last guard was put into the surgery pod by the supervisor for not locking the door properly after getting drunk, no one dared to repeat that mistake.

Unless...

The bodyguard cautiously stepped inside.

It was way too quiet inside, with no sign of anyone moving about.

Yet, the smell of blood originated from this area.

He had no choice but to steel himself and quicken his steps toward the control room; once there, he could activate the entire facility’s security system. At that point, revolving machine gun turrets and various traps would become his allies.

More importantly, he could find out what exactly happened in the facility through the surveillance footage.

However, minutes later, the bodyguard regretted it.

He wished he hadn’t seen the surveillance footage, nor come to the control room.

The surveillance video showed why there was nobody in the facility—prior to the mutation, everyone had been gathered there, preparing for the upcoming surgeries.

The bodyguard saw someone’s body mutate, they suddenly weakened and collapsed mid-walk, struggling to get up several times but failing each time.

Then their bodies began to rot, exposing the bones beneath the skin.

The panicked screams caught the others’ attention, but by the time people arrived in response, not even the bones of the fallen remained.

Four seconds.

That was the time span the surveillance recorded for the entire process.

An unknown plague spread rapidly, eventually producing the same symptoms on everyone’s bodies.

And after the entire plague had ended, he saw two uninvited guests enter, heading straight to the second floor of the facility—the disposal plant manager’s office was there.

And that was the part of the surveillance video that frightened the bodyguard the most.

The uninvited guests had gone upstairs two minutes before, and there was no footage of them leaving.

This meant...

At this very moment, he was in the same room as the murderers.