Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

"Don't rush," the kid in the short jacket said, standing to the side, who was taking the time to polish a few broken steel pieces. Hearing this, he looked up and scolded lightly, "One at a time..."

One.

Two.

Three.

Four...

……

After another blissful experience, Tao Shun knelt on the ground, catching his breath, and right on time, an itch began to run deep in his throat.

He resignedly opened his mouth, waiting for the new tongue to grow out.

Whether it was because he had his tongue pulled out so many times that he had developed a little resistance, or because he had noticed it after so many times, Tao Shun discovered that every time his tongue was pulled out, he would clearly recall a certain memory—even if he had long forgotten it.

"Auntie, I'm your son's colleague."

The tongue was firmly clamped and pulled outwards.

"He had an accident at the construction site,"

Another one.

"He's currently undergoing emergency treatment at the hospital..."

Another one.

"You need to pay the deposit immediately, otherwise the hospital won't perform the surgery."

Another one.

"Please don't worry, he's in the operating room right now and his phone isn't with him, so I'm contacting you for him."

Another one.

"Yes, I am his coworker. We share a dormitory. Don't worry, I'll keep watch here."

Another one.

"The deposit is 30,000 yuan. The hospital said they won't accept a penny less. Please transfer it first, and I'll figure out the rest."

Another one.

"Don't worry, Auntie, I'll have him call you back once he's better. Please transfer the money first, so as not to delay the surgery."

Another one.

The old lady turned it around.

Thirty thousand yuan was transferred out of her retirement account in two installments, passing through dozens of intermediary accounts, and finally becoming a commission for Tao Shun at the end of the month.

He hung up the phone and went downstairs to buy a pack of betel nuts. When he came back, he told the trader next to him, "This thing, well, it really depends on talent."

The little devil in the apron shook the pliers into the wooden bucket.

Tao Shun coughed up a mouthful of hot, fishy liquid, and his tongue grew back out.

A lie, a tongue.

We treat everyone fairly, young and old, and never extend credit.

Those classic cases that had once made Tao Shun proud for a long time came to mind one by one: the ecstasy of swindling his first big order, the joy of taking the commission to a KTV to book a private room, and the pleasure of bragging to his subordinates.

Each memory is accompanied by the rhythm of the tongue being pulled out inch by inch; the clearer the image, the slower the forceps drag.

Having worked in the industry for four or five years, Tao Shun would successfully scam people at least ten times a month, and sometimes as many as twenty or thirty times.

Each time he deceived someone, he would tell anywhere from dozens to hundreds of lies. From the fake identity when adding someone as a friend, to the fake experiences when building trust, and finally the fake promises when tricking them into transferring money, every single word had once slipped lightly from his mouth, into the other person's ears, and into the bank account of each deposit.

In other words, Tao Shun told tens of thousands of lies that led to his successful scams...

Now, they've all turned into tongues...

Tens of thousands of tongues! How does Tao Shun feel? Let's not gloat. Anyway, the little devil in the apron was exhausted. He stopped several times to shake his wrists, twist his neck, and mutter complaints.

The man in the short jacket next to him had no choice but to reluctantly take over two shifts, and the work of grinding steel sheets was forced to stop.

The dark gray sky had no distinction between day and night, and after an unknown amount of time, the successful case study finally came to an end.

Before Tao Shun could even catch his breath, a series of failures followed.

This number far exceeds the previous one!

Trust between people is not easy to come by, and only a minority of people succeed in scamming others. Most victims realize something is wrong after adding each other on WeChat and chatting for a few rounds. This is either because an anti-fraud app pops up a warning, the other party is highly vigilant, or a detail in the conversation is let slip.

Although these chats were short, each round contained a few lies.

Moreover, the failure rate increases as you progress.

In the first two years, two or three out of ten people would become a couple. Later, it became one out of four or five. And then, even if you sent dozens of messages, you might not get a single reply.

These fragments of memory swirled through Tao Shun's mind like a revolving lantern, and as they were being pulled apart, an incredibly clear thought flashed through his mind: Damn it, my country's anti-fraud propaganda is truly something else.

The worst part is that having many failures is one thing, but having many failures means insufficient performance.

If performance is not up to par, you have to work overtime.

Working overtime means talking to more people, and talking to more people means telling more lies.

As a result, the total amount of memories doubled again.

They pulled out who knows whether it was 30,000 or 50,000 tongues. In short, after a long and difficult journey, they finally finished dealing with all the failed cases.

Then, the most tragic thing happened: those lies that had absolutely nothing to do with fraud, but were simply other lies he had told throughout his life, also started to surface.

He lied to his mother, saying he would definitely come home for Chinese New Year this year; he lied to his brother, saying he would pay him back next month after he got his salary; he lied to his girlfriend, saying the woman in his phone was a colleague; he lied to the shopkeeper downstairs, saying he didn't have any change on him and would pay him tomorrow...

These lies also began to line up, waiting to make his tongue stick out of his throat again.

It must be pointed out here: this is not Zhang Qiliang's intentional attempt to make things difficult. It's simply that Ming Ge hasn't mastered this newly learned technique yet, and at this stage, it's not possible to do a detailed classification...

After enduring and enduring, Tao Shun's memories finally reached the yesterday in his mind.

He straddled his motorcycle and said to the militiamen at the roadblock, "I'm from the village up ahead. There's an emergency at home."

Tao Shun remembered that this should be the last lie he would ever tell in his life.

Thinking this, my tongue was firmly clamped again.

The little devil casually began to exert force. Tao Shun closed his eyes tightly, his whole body tensed, ready to receive the pain. Even though he had repeated it tens of millions of times, he was only barely familiar with it, but never used to it, and the pain was never reduced by the slightest.

Just then, a heavenly voice suddenly rang in my ears: "Wait a moment."

Tao Shun raised his head.

Before anyone knew it, Quedexia was standing by the execution platform, and the two little devils obediently took half a step back.

“I’ll give you a chance,” quedexia said.

"What opportunity?" Tao Shun was overjoyed.

"Try lying to me once."

"No, no," Tao Shun quickly shook his head, the iron hoops rattling as he did so. "...Brother Ming, I'll never lie to anyone again!"

quedexia's eyebrows stood up.

"I'll try! I'll try right now!" Tao Shun quickly changed his mind, hesitated for a while, and then cautiously asked, "What if I manage to fool you..."

“No problem,” Qudexia waved his hand and pointed to the iron pliers in the little devil’s hand: “I’ll spare you this last bit of retribution today.”

That's it? Tao Shun disliked such a stingy prize: "...What if I fail to fool them?"

“That’s fine,” Qudexia said without a care. “We can just redo the amount that was supposed to be served today.”

Tao Shun: "No, no, no... Brother Ming, I was wrong... I was really wrong..."

qudexia: "Let's begin."

"No...no...Ming-ge...please, please spare me..."

"Whom will you spare?"

177 Stay Experience Project

Tao Shun's dream, along with the dreams of other unlucky souls who accidentally fell asleep, was quickly uploaded to various channels.

That's right. Apart from their weapons, Zhang Qiliang did not confiscate their communication devices. In addition, aside from temporarily strengthening their subconscious "behave and obey orders," Zhang Qiliang did not impose any other debuffs on them, such as muting.

These telecom fraud practitioners can not only talk to each other, but also freely communicate with workers in various engineering subsystems.

Thus, the gray wilderness, the dark red ground, the skinny little devil who was only two meters tall, and the leisurely pace as if he hadn't received overtime pay... quickly became a hot topic of global discussion.

While the vast majority of onlookers were delighted, a small group of people lacking a sense of humor looked at those who had just woken up from their sleep, covered in cold sweat, covering their mouths and looking terrified, and their expressions were even worse than those who had just had their tongues pulled out.

Based on information circulating online, some people have carefully compared the various individuals photographed at the abandoned airport: local warlords providing armed asylum, intermediaries helping to register shell companies, local officials turning a blind eye to bribery, bank insiders providing offshore accounts for money laundering, traffickers selling citizens' information domestically, lawyers specializing in cross-border fund splitting, and so on...

Almost all participants in every stage were caught in the act.

Only one group of people escaped: those who had already been arrested and were serving their sentences for telecom fraud.

This is my lifeline!

----------

Around 9 a.m., in a residential building in a small county town in southern China, a mother with gray hair received a phone call from her son.

"mom."

"Oh! Son!" the mother exclaimed happily. "You finally called! I was so worried about you after so long... How are things in Thailand? Are you getting used to the food at the construction site?"

"I can get used to the food. My coworkers are all from around here, so the meals are alright."

"That's good, that's good," the mother said twice. "When are you coming back? Your father was talking about you yesterday, saying that the pomelo tree in the backyard is bearing particularly good fruit this year, and he saved some for you."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"son?"

"I want to go back too," the son's voice was a little muffled, "but... sigh..."

The mother's grip on the phone tightened: "What's wrong? Did something happen at the construction site? Or did you have a fight with the boss?"

"No, everything is fine."

"So what happened? Don't hide it from me."

Silence again.

The mother waited for a long time, almost thinking the call had been disconnected, when her son suddenly spoke up: "Mom, do we know anyone at the police station?"

The mother was stunned: "The police station?"

"Well, I have something I'd like to ask."

Why are you asking this? Did you get into trouble outside?

"It's nothing, just some documents I wanted to ask about."

The mother gripped the microphone and thought for a long time: "Old Liu from the next village, he worked at the town's police station for more than ten years and just retired last year. Do you remember him? He used to hold you when you were little."

"I don't remember very clearly."

"He should know these things, should we ask him?"

"Then give me the phone."

The mother put on her reading glasses, flipped through the contact list page by page, found Lao Liu's number, read it aloud, and then asked, "Son, what's wrong with you? Don't scare me."

"It's okay, Mom... it's just that the documents are a bit of a hassle."

"Don't lie to me."

"It's really nothing. I'll hang up now and call you back later."

The phone hangs up.

The mother held the microphone, listening to the busy tone, and stood by the coffee table for a long time without moving.

When he received the call, Lao Liu was watering the vegetables in the yard.

"Hello, who is it?"

"Uncle Liu, I'm Xiao Chen from the next village... the second son of the Chen family."

Old Liu thought for a moment and vaguely remembered: "Oh, the one from Old Chen's family who works away from home?"