A Night of Shelter in the Wine Cellar

The Gambit, who was piloting the helicopter, didn't stop swearing the whole way.

The situation in the back row is not optimistic.

The 67-year-old woman fell into a delirious state due to a high fever.

The young man suffered extensive burns on his back, which became infected.

Half of his body was convulsing, and insect wings mixed with blood were stuck to his back.

Sing Sing flipped through the ledger he had swiped, his gaze locking onto a single coordinate.

"Go to the Redstone Beach Motel, which is 70 kilometers to the southwest."

The Gambit turned his head and scoffed, "Are you out of your mind? There's a 90% chance there are security cameras in those guest rooms."

Who said we were going to stay in the guest rooms?

Sing Sing Chow flicked the cover of the ledger with his fingers.

"They lived in the wine cellar below the laundry room. Poor people had to queue up and pay with coins to do their laundry. That bastard Shan Avalanche hid over a hundred bottles of Bor under the dilapidated laundry room."

The Sand Rat next to him poked its head out, its face full of surprise. "How did you even know about this secret door?"

"The ledger records a $20,000 annual maintenance fee for high-end temperature control equipment, with the address listed as the laundry room of a nearly bankrupt motel."

Sing Sing closed the notebook.

"With a little basic financial knowledge, catching these criminal gangs is as easy as catching field mice."

The helicopter eventually landed in a desolate ravine.

After making simple but useless cover with weeds and branches, the group walked to the back door of the hotel.

The laundry room floor was covered in clumps of cheap laundry detergent.

Sing Sing stepped forward and, using Pig Butchering Knife, pried open the bottom of an old, abandoned washing machine in the corner.

A hidden underground door was revealed.

For safety, the Sand Rat volunteered to run out and dig a tunnel in the surrounding soil that served as both a ventilation and escape route, leading directly into the Wasteland.

Upon entering the wine cellar, a rich aroma of wine wafted towards us.

Sing Sing pushed two bar tables together and poured out all the US dollars he had taken from the Avalanche vault.

The banknotes were quickly divided into three piles.

"The first pile is for medical emergency expenses. The second pile is for evacuation travel costs and subsequent resettlement expenses. The third pile... is for funds to preserve physical evidence."

"Starting tonight, this place will officially be designated as the Emergency Relief Station for Workers of the China 749 Bureau North America Branch."

Upon hearing this, the Gambit, without thinking, reached for the third pile of money. "Since it's a grand opening celebration, shouldn't we give out some travel expenses..."

"Smack!"

Sing Sing Chow reached out and tapped the Gambit on the back of his hand.

"This is workers' compensation for injuries; if you touch it, you're sucking the blood of our proletarian brothers!"

The Gambit withdrew his hand, shook it off, and sullenly leaned against the corner to polish his diamonds.

Sing Sing took out his notebook and walked up to the four survivors.

The Sand Rat saw that Sing Sing had drawn four squares, and the first column, which was clearly labeled "Name," had the words "Name" written on it.

"They used to only have a barcode," the Sand Rat muttered in a low voice.

"Barcodes are used to scan product prices."

Sing Sing lowered his head and wrote, "A name is a basic right of the living."

Wolverine leaned against the wall, smoking a cigar he'd taken from the helicopter.

Deep within those memories are countless people wearing hospital gowns, whose names remained unknown until their deaths.

The little girl with heterochromia spoke timidly, "I... I'm Nina Stewart. I can see lines."

She drew a line with her finger. "The red line connects to death. The gray line connects to people nobody cares about. The black line... represents someone looking for you, wanting you to disappear."

The boy next to him also forced himself to sit up straight and introduced himself.

Harry Kane.

They can hold their breath underwater for hours and can taste the toxins and chemicals in the water.

He was originally a victim of the New Orleans hurricane, and because he had no money for medical treatment, he was tricked into coming here.

The 67-year-old woman coughed twice and weakly said her name was Martha Barton.

It can sense soil moisture within ten meters and keep small areas of dry land moist.

She used to be a veteran on the farm, but after the farm was acquired, she was scammed by loan sharks and ended up in a dungeon.

Finally, it was the young man's turn with a severe back infection.

Luke Shaw.

His jaw was chattering from the pain; he had a pair of insect wings and could fly.

They are also extremely sensitive to the smells of pesticides and plant pests.

Because of the problem with his wings, the people who handled the Avalanche stamped his file with a red mark indicating "secondary processing".

The Gambit in the corner leaned over and whispered an explanation:

"Secondary processing is slang. It means that if it can't be sold as a whole, it's disassembled and processed into spare parts. Corneas, internal organs, bone marrow, specific serum separation..."

Sing Sing didn't continue the topic; he rolled up his sleeves and began assigning tasks.

"Cousin, go to the town pharmacy and 'borrow' some broad-spectrum antibiotics and fever reducers."

The Gambit was completely bewildered. "Borrow? I've only ever stolen, never lent."

"We are a legitimate organization! We won't take a single needle or thread from the people!"

Sing Sing then made the arrangements:

"My cousin is in charge of security and guard duty. Miguel, go get some water. I'll scrape the rotten flesh off this young comrade."

More than an hour later.

The Gambit climbed into the wine cellar carrying two large plastic bags.

One bag was full of medicine, and the other bag contained a dozen or so steaming hot Mexico burritos.

After applying the medicine to Lucas, Sing Sing washed his hands with a bottle of aged Bor, opened his notebook, and began to mutter:

"Medical expenses are for saving lives, and the reimbursement amount is reasonable. The wraps improve employee meals and comply with financial regulations. Hey cousin, what's with those clinking coins in your pocket? It's a matter of conduct!"

The Gambit took a big bite of his burrito and protested, "The cashier didn't have any change. I can't just pay out of my own pocket to make it round up!"

Wolverine suddenly added, "Because you didn't pay any principal at all."

The atmosphere in the wine cellar became much more lively because of this little incident.

The four Mutants who had narrowly escaped death were finally given hot food.

Wolverine looked at those faces from afar, and his usually hard facial features became very unnatural.

"Come and sit down, child."

Martha suddenly waved to him.

Wolverine frowned and replied gruffly, "I'm older than you, Lady!"

Martha swallowed the piece of pastry. "In my eyes, you're all just pitiful children."

The lone wolf, its hands covered in blood, was unusually silent, standing still for three minutes before slowly shuffling over to take the burrito.

Not long after, the Sand Rat, who had volunteered to go out and gather information, emerged from its burrow and returned with a message.

Silver Peak's search team did not pursue them; they were clearing the Avalanche stronghold and destroying all areas containing paper documents and storage devices.

"Are they looking for something?" Gambit pointed out astutely.

Nina nodded, staring at the Sand Rat.

"Uncle, there's... a silver thread on you."

She gestured with her hands. "That line connects to so many locked doors, it feels very heavy."

The Sand Rat's expression changed drastically; that was the Cryptographic Key he had just stolen!

His legs went weak, and the key slipped out and fell to the ground.

The commotion drew everyone's attention.

Sing Sing bent down, picked up the silver key, and weighed it in his hand.

"Comrade Miguel, the first round of discussions has concluded. We will now proceed to the second round of in-depth exchanges."

The Sand Rat was covered in cold sweat. "I... I just wanted to use it to exchange for some money on the black market to escape!"

The Gambit stared at the unique identification code on the key, his eyes narrowing. "This level of independent encryption key is usually used to unlock offline databases."

"It seems they still have quite a few secrets..."