Tehran Grocery Store: My Intelligence is Priced Clearly

Fifty-eight minutes.

Zhang Jian stared at the countdown numbers.

After a long while, he gritted his teeth and struggled to straighten up.

Anyway, I'm still alive.

As long as you're alive, there's hope!

He can't die, his mother is still waiting for him!

If your left hand is pinned down, then use your right hand.

He started digging.

The gravel and steel bars quickly cut his palms, and blood kept seeping from the small cuts.

He then used his right hand to pry the broken bricks out one by one.

The weight on my back finally eased a little.

He took the opportunity to push himself up, squeezing half of his shoulder out through the gap.

pain!

His back rubbed against the broken bricks and tiles of the ruins, and the intense pain constantly stimulated his nerves!

Zhang Jian's eyes were bloodshot, he was clenching his teeth, and his mouth was full of the taste of ash and blood.

After a few more minutes of digging, the precast slab pressing on his back tilted at an angle, revealing a gap that was just big enough to squeeze through.

He curled up his right leg, and his whole body slowly arched outward like a snake.

As the upper body crawled out, the left hand was finally pulled out as well.

The arm wasn't broken.

But my wrist and forearm were all purple and swollen.

I clenched my fist forcefully, managing to hold it, but I couldn't muster any strength.

My right leg below the knee is still cold.

I looked down.

The trouser leg was mostly torn, and there was a gash more than ten centimeters long on the calf.

The flesh was turned inside out, and the blood had already soaked through the pants.

Zhang Jian crawled out, supporting himself on the ground.

He turned his head and looked around, looking disheveled.

His grocery store was completely flattened.

The steel bars and cement were mixed together, and the iron pipes of the shelves were bent into a tangled mess.

The whole street is like this.

The mobile phone shop across the street is now just half a wall, and the barbershop's sign is hanging on the power line, swaying.

A white pickup truck was upside down in the middle of the road.

The chassis was upside down, the wheels were still slowly turning, and the alarms were going off incessantly.

The air was thick with smoke and dust, hazy and gray.

Explosions are still happening in the distance.

One muffled thud after another echoed, and the ground trembled in response.

Zhang Jian leaned against a pile of broken bricks, panting heavily.

He touched his pocket.

The phone is still there, the screen has a crack, but it still lights up.

There was still a wad of cash left in my pocket.

I struggled to take them out and counted them.

I took this from the safe this morning, and I'm going to settle the bill with the freight forwarder this afternoon.

Twenty-three hundred-dollar bills, plus a few fifty-dollar bills.

More than three thousand in total.

As for safes...

He glanced back at the ruins.

Well, it's already good enough that I survived.

The blue, semi-transparent panel was still floating in front of me.

The countdown timer jumped to 00:41:17.

Zhang Jian licked his chapped lips and stared at the words on the panel for a long time.

system.

Intelligence point.

Currency exchange.

He had also read many novels where the protagonist starts with a system and then levels up by showing off and slapping faces along the way.

But that's fiction; this is Tehran.

But what he saw before him forced him to believe it.

Is he betting on whether he will experience a second wave of missile attacks in 40 minutes?

He doesn't have that kind of confidence.

At this point, it's better to believe it exists than not!

He slowly got up, dragging his still bleeding right leg, and slowly moved out of the ruins in front of him.

"System, where do I evacuate to?"

Zhang Jian stood by the roadside and tentatively asked a question.

No one answered.

But a few lines of text popped up on the panel in front of me again.

【Ding! 】

[Host's current cash assets detected: $3,150]

[Would you like to spend $3,000 to redeem the "Complete Airstrike List for Tehran's Main Urban Area in the Next 24 Hours"?]

[List of contents: Strike time (accurate to the second), GPS coordinates of impact point, missile type, target type]

[Redeem or not?]

Three thousand dollars!

His profit from the previous month!

Zhang Jian pulled out a wad of banknotes from his pocket, his hands still trembling.

It wasn't entirely because of fear, but also because he had lost too much blood and his fingers were numb.

Three thousand dollars for an air raid list?

If it's true, then he can live!

If it's fake...

He only lost three thousand yuan.

Anyway, in another forty minutes I'll probably be a pile of minced meat, so what's the point of keeping the money?

This is not a difficult calculation.

"exchange."

The moment he opened his mouth, the banknotes in his hand suddenly burst into flames.

There was no heat, no smoke, and no ashes from the fire.

The stack of US dollars turned into tiny specks of light from the edges, and where they had burned, they emitted a glimmer of light.

In just two or three seconds, the entire three thousand dollars vanished without a trace.

Zhang Jian's hand was suspended in mid-air, still in the posture of clutching money.

But in his hand, he only had two banknotes left.

One hundred yuan, one fifty yuan.

immediately.

The panel has been refreshed.

The dense, detailed data began to reappear.

[Tehran's main urban area airstrike list (for the next 24 hours)]

[First Wave / Number TH-07A]

[Time of attack: 14:42:17]

Launch platform: CVN-78 "Ford" / VFA-143 Squadron

[Missile type: AGM-158C LRASM Block II ground attack mode]

[Positioning coordinates: 35.6892°N, 51.3471°E]

[Target: Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps' 7th Logistics Depot (disguised as a civilian building)]

[Second Wave / Designation TH-03B]

[Time of attack: 15:07:44]

Launch platform: DDG-1002 USS Jansen destroyer

[Projectile Type: BGM-109E Tomahawk Block V]

[Positioning coordinates: 35.7015°N, 51.3923°E]

[Target: IRGC communication hub node]

The list is still rolling down.

Each line, with time, coordinates, bullet type, and target, is neatly arranged.

Zhang Jian's heart pounded as he looked at the data.

He is a military enthusiast.

What the AGM-158C is couldn't be clearer!

The Tomahawk missile is even more familiar, as it trends on social media every year.

But none of that matters!

The important thing is...

Time and coordinates!

He clicked on the first item, and a simplified map automatically popped up on the panel.

His current position is a green dot, while the point of impact is a red circle.

The two points almost overlap.

Zhang Jian's pupils suddenly contracted.

He raised his head and looked behind him.

About 30 or 40 meters east of the ruins, there is a six-story residential building.

The exterior walls lost a large number of tiles, but the main structure remained relatively intact, making it quite sturdy compared to the surrounding buildings that had completely collapsed.

And it was that building.

The panel clearly stated that the basement of that building was the Revolutionary Guard's hidden ammunition depot.

"Disguised as a civilian building?"

No wonder that building was built so sturdily.

Zhang Jian had wondered before when he passed by that an ordinary residential building had an iron gate that looked like a bank vault, and he had never seen any cars going in or out of the parking lot below.

He glanced at the countdown again.

00:14:52.

Fourteen minutes.

If a Tomahawk missile hits an ammunition depot, what is the blast radius?

Zhang Jian didn't want to calculate.

Blood was still oozing from the wound on his right calf, and he was trembling with pain.

Fourteen minutes, is that enough time to get out of this sector?

A helpful route popped up on the panel.

The green dotted line extends from his current location to the southeast.

Distance marked: 1.3 kilometers.