Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 66 Credit Cards

If it's a seven-figure sum—

My bottom line can be very flexible.

Zhou Yi exhaled a puff of smoke, summoned the interface in his mind, and focused his gaze on the countdown.

[World Code: PM-18465]

[Countdown begins: 13:01:47]

There's less than half a day left.

This means that he must complete the system's tasks before he can go over.

He pondered for a moment, then typed on the screen:
"Two days later."

Lucas's reply arrived within seconds of the message being sent:

"Okay, I'll arrange it. You'd better not change your mind again."

Interrupted like this, Zhou Yi lost the will to continue testing.

He stood up, stretched a little, and then carried the tray into the bathroom.

Zhou Yi turned on the tap and first poured all the blood into the pool. Then she reached out and cleaned the scabbed area.

It's 5 a.m.

Try to get a full eight hours of sleep before entering the new world and adjust your mental state.

Having made up her mind, Zhou Yi quickly washed up and returned to her bedroom.

He reached into the bedside table, pulled out a pistol from the drawer, checked the magazine, and then placed the gun under his pillow.

The mattress sank slightly. Zhou Yi lifted the covers, lay down, and then turned off the bedside lamp.

Darkness instantly engulfed the room, leaving only a sliver of dim light filtering through the gaps in the curtains.

Zhou Yi turned over, regulated her breathing, relaxed her body, and drifted off to sleep.

Name: Zhou Yi

【Sex: Male】

Special items: Handgun, Credit Card, TAC-50

[World Code: PM-18465]

Official Mission: Acquire a nuclear warhead

[Note: Please save your obtained targets at the designated submission point. Good luck!]

[Official mission duration: 90 days]

[Official mission activated]

[Countdown: 2159:59:59]

When Zhou Yi opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on a dirty toilet.

The air was filled with a mixture of disinfectant and a strong smell of urine.

He subconsciously checked the things on his body.

A T-shirt and jeans, plus a leather jacket.

But the most crucial thing—the gun—is gone.

My wallet is gone too.

All that was left in his pocket was half a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a metal lighter.

Fine.

It's a bit better than the last one; at least I'm not shirtless anymore.

Zhou Yi, trying to find humor in his predicament, pushed open the stall door and walked out of the restroom.

Outside was a dimly lit bar.

It is not large in area and the layout is simple and crude.

Several young men with buzz cuts sat near the entrance, their trouser legs tucked into muddy military boots.

They were loud, excited, and burst into laughter from time to time.

On the table, there were many empty wine bottles piled up.

Behind the bar stood a bartender with a bitter face, wiping a glass that looked like it would never get clean.

Zhou Yi looked around, his gaze sweeping over the few tattered slogans pasted on the wall, all in Russian.

His heart moved.

Slavic countries.

Could it be Ukraine? Or Russia?

Only then did the bartender notice Zhou Yi's presence. He was visibly startled, then frowned. "When did you come in?"

“You were busy just now, so I came in by myself.” Zhou Yi walked to the bar, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it.

The bartender stared at him for a few seconds, then shrugged and asked indifferently, "What would you like to drink?"

"Something strong, please," Zhou Yi replied casually, then added, "Do you have any newspapers here?"

The bartender poured a glass of clear liquid, pushed it in front of him, and then pulled half a newspaper from the trash can under the bar.

It was stained with oil, so it was probably used to wrap food or wipe tables. "This is all I have," he said, casually tossing the item to Zhou Yi.

Ignoring the bartender's rudeness, Zhou Yi lowered his head and began to carefully study the newspaper.

It is printed with text in a mixture of Ukrainian and Russian.

Oh shit.

I couldn't understand half of it.

Even though I've traveled through time, I still don't get a language cheat code.

Zhou Yi sighed, picked up the cup beside him, and took a sip.

The inferior industrial alcohol rushed into my throat instantly.

Grass.

WTF?

Zhou Yi's lips twitched, he put down the cup, and sighed again.

Turning his attention back to the newspaper, he struggled for a long time before finally managing to find the key information in the article on the front page:

The dispute over command of the Black Sea Fleet continues to escalate.

Russia and Ukraine have not yet reached an agreement on the right to use the naval base.

According to anonymous sources, U.S. representatives will make a secret visit to Crimea soon.

Okay.

It's 1993 now.

Sevastopol.

The Soviet Union had only been dissolved for two years, and the assets it left behind had not yet been fully sorted out.

No wonder they asked me to find nuclear warheads.

It can be considered a local specialty.

More importantly, if the timeline of this world matches reality, then—

This year also marks the implementation of the Nunn-Lugo Agreement.

The United States provided funding and Russia provided personnel to assist Ukraine in dismantling its nuclear facilities and removing its nuclear warheads.

These are all opportunities.

We have to find an opportunity to pull off a big show.

A thought flickered in Zhou Yi's mind. He turned the newspaper over, trying to find some other clues.

The result was a barrage of small advertisements, with keywords like "rental room" and "job" appearing frequently.

Fine.

Let's go find a place to stay first.

Zhou Yi pushed the newspaper aside, lit a cigarette, and prepared to get up and leave.

Seeing that he was about to leave, the bartender said coldly, "Pay the bill first."

"Use this." Zhou Yi said, summoning the system in his mind and handing over the reward credit card from his pocket.

The bartender took the card, examined it for two seconds, and then his expression suddenly darkened.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"what?"

"You think I'm stupid? You're going to pay with this plastic thing? This isn't some son of a bitch Wall Street."

Zhou Yi blinked before she realized what was happening.

This is the 1993 year.

The Soviet Union had just collapsed, the economy was in complete chaos, and the credit system had not yet been established.

Shops don't even necessarily issue receipts, so who has ever seen a card reader?
Fortunately, this cheap liquor doesn't cost much.

Going out for a walk by myself should be enough.

Thinking of this, Zhou Yi coughed awkwardly, trying to soften his tone: "Brother, I just got here and I don't have any cash on me."

"How about this, I'll leave the card with you as collateral and pay you back tomorrow?"

The bartender chuckled, his eyes gradually growing impatient.

"Buy on credit?" He spat. "Who do you think you are? You look like a Kyrgyz mixed-race, or maybe a Tatar dog? Now you want to buy on credit? Is your next step to steal our women?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the group of young people next to him noticed them.

One of them, a tall, bald man, stood up. His muscles were taut, and he had an eagle emblem tattooed on his arm. He sauntered over, carrying a bottle of liquor.

“Hey, Vanya,” he yelled at the bartender, “what’s this guy doing?”

"He drank alcohol and didn't want to pay."

The bartender said with a mocking smile, "He said he'll pay tomorrow."

"tomorrow?"

The man laughed. "Did you hear that, guys? He said 'pay tomorrow'! Doesn't that sound like my neighbor's dog saying 'I won't bite tomorrow'?"

(End of this chapter)