Chapter 2

I looked at the 29 dead sheep lying on the ground. Their bellies were swollen. Each wore a specially designed yellow microchip ear tag.

My gaze turned cold. "Ordinary? A few dozen bucks a pound?"

I took a deep breath and suppressed my anger before saying, "Ms. Shaw, you'd better pray that you can afford this.

"The sheep you killed were purebred Suffon breeding sheep from a national-level alpine pasture genetic resource bank. More importantly, all 29 of them were ewes, and every single one had been carrying two fully formed lambs!

"One dead ewe equates to three lives lost, so 29 of them means a total of 87 lives. Even with the most conservative estimate, the market value of this entire group would be at least ten million dollars."

After hearing that astronomical figure, Cecilia froze up for a brief moment. Then she covered her mouth, exchanged a glance with Keith, and burst into a fit of piercing laughter.

"Ten million dollars? Hahaha! What is this, some kind of TV show?" Cecilia laughed so hard she leaned backward. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"A genetic resource bank? Why don't you just say you're an academician from the National Academy of Science?

"Have you gone delusional from living in this godforsaken, backwater town for so long? It's just some filthy livestock, and you immediately try to scam ten million dollars out of me?" she jeered.

Keith was laughing so hard he couldn't even stand straight. He slapped his thigh and chimed in mockingly, "So, country folks can just make up anything now?

"And what? One sheep equals three lives? Why don't you just say these are divine sheep raised by God himself?

"Ms. Shaw, this guy must've read too many fantasy novels. And now he's come down to the mortal world to beg for handouts. The nonsense he's making up is so ridiculous that even the six-million-dollar G-Wagon couldn't drag him back to reality.

"This poor beggar dreamed about money so much that he's lost his mind."

Cecilia rolled her eyes and sneered. "Your professional vocabulary is pretty impressive. You graduated top of your class from a scammer training course, didn't you?"

Just then, a few stray drivers, who were stuck behind Cecilia because of the accident, exited their vehicles. One of them, a middle-aged man wearing glasses, walked closer and examined the yellow chip attached to the sheep's ear.

Suddenly, he sucked in a sharp breath. "Ah…"

The man, whose name was Timothy Creed, straightened up. His face was filled with disbelief. "This guy isn't lying. The yellow identification tag with a built-in micro-sensing band… Could this really be the core breeding group approved by the Northwest Agricultural Research Academy?"

He carefully inspected the sheep's body again, pressing lightly on its swollen belly. His expression grew increasingly solemn as he did so.

Finally, he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, then turned around and began explaining to the surrounding onlookers.

"I was involved in the risk assessment for a transgenic breeding laboratory project before. These things survive entirely on high-precision breeding solutions and specially calibrated nutritional supplements. Every single breeding solution and supplement costs an absolute fortune!

"The breeding process is extremely complicated too. The amount of money invested is astronomical.

"Ten million is nothing. If this batch of pregnant ewes went onto the black market, people would fight over them for 20 million dollars!"

As soon as those words fell, the surrounding crowd erupted in an uproar, and the way they looked at Cecilia changed.

Cecilia stiffened up. Then, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she shrieked, "Alright! Keep up the act!

"You damn hick, you actually prepared this whole act in advance, huh? You even arranged actors to hide here in advance! You all teamed up to con me from the beginning!"

She was burning with humiliation and rage. "Fine! So you want to be a bully? I'll show you what it really means to have both sides of the law in your pocket!"

With that, she pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and turned on the speakerphone.