Rebuilding Base is Under Construction

The current warden is obviously not bald.

Strange was silent for a moment.In other words, the "puppets" in these prisons have nothing to do with Mr. Warden - in other words, they were left by the previous warden.

Stark is also unclear about the history of this prison.It seems that it was suddenly built a few months ago, several government contracts were signed in the middle, and prisoners were taken in one after another, and then the escape scene was gradually captured by satellites-and later it attracted attention from all quarters.

Strange felt that he needed to remind Stark and ask him to find out the origin of the last warden.But when he took out his phone, he found a few more missed calls from Stark.

He frowned, but he still looked at Banner and Anderson who were on the opposite side first—and the Hall guard had already left after answering their questions.He was busy going to open the door for people passing by in the passage.

"I understand," Strange said, "it was my fault. I misunderstood Mr. Warden."

"But there are still a lot of mysteries," Banner added to him. "I understand. But Mr. Warden now seems unsuitable to accept exploration from all sides-in fact, he may have been due to the death of the prisoner. Stuck in... not so good."

Stark called again, and the gazes of Guard Banner and Anderson fell on the lit screen subconsciously.

"Then I will leave." Banner said.

Anderson was a little confused: "What about me?"

Strange: "...If you don't mind, you can also say goodbye."

Anderson looked disappointed: "Okay, doctor."

The two walked out of the psychiatrist's office, and Strange answered the phone.

"Thank God-Stephen, I need you."

Stark had never said this, but he sounded flustered and anxious now, which made Strange feel puzzled.

"why?"

"Because you might be a psychiatrist?" Stark said in a skeptical tone. "Fuck him, Stephen, I need you to come to the warden's office now. The warden seems to be a big problem. The death of that prisoner made him doubt the authenticity of the world-will you cure this?"

Strange: "No."

The other side of the phone seemed to freeze for a few seconds, and said with some frustration: "Then you'd better come here. If I plan to stun Mr. Warden and take away, you'd better help me explain to Banner-at least He will not become that big green guy here."

Strange said indifferently: "And I can't even hold a pen here."

The other side of the phone thought of Stark, whose nerves in his hands were damaged: "..."

"Wait there," Strange said, "try to stabilize the warden."

Stark: "Understood."

After the phone was hung up, he walked out of the bathroom and saw the office across the hall, where the warden was playing with the knife in his hand.

People with abnormal mental states are obviously not suitable for holding such things in their hands.

Stark took a breath in secret, restrained as much as possible, and said quietly, "Is that the knife that almost killed the clown?"

As if he hadn't heard him, the warden took out a blood-stained rag from the drawer.

Stark grinned, would there be such a thing in a normal person's drawer?

The warden began to carefully wipe the remaining blood clots on the knife, but it was obviously of no use, because the blood on it had dried up long ago.

Stark watched the black-haired young man frown slightly, threw the rag back, then looked at the cactus on the side, and cut a stab with a dining knife.

Stark: "..."

Even if this cactus looks abnormal, it can't be used as a murder weapon.Sure enough, the warden held the cactus thorn for a long time, and seemed to give up some idea, and threw it into the drawer with the rag.

Immediately afterwards, he smiled and looked at Mr. Stark: "Have you a gun?"

Stark immediately denied: "A guard at the door will take the weapon."

Of course, his weapon is not an ordinary gun.

The warden shrugged: "Then I have to walk a few more steps."

Stark watched as the warden walked out of the office, and followed him for a few seconds.

"Mr. Warden, are you interested in having dinner together?" He throws an olive branch with a headache. "About today's little misunderstanding, I think we can... have a chat while eating?"

Mr. Warden paused, turned his head and glanced at him: "Yes, but not necessary."

Stark: "...?"

Seeing that he was about to be unable to stop the warden, the opponent's destination was obviously the gun depot-although I don't know why.

But he can directly ask: "Mr. Warden, do you plan to-inspect the weapons and equipment in the prison yourself?"

The warden replied lightly: "Oh, no, I plan to find a gun to commit suicide."

Stark: "???"

Every conversation today made him unable to continue.But the warden looked serious, and there was no slight difference in his expression.

Now Stark had to stop him: "Wait, Mr. Warden, I think this matter can be discussed." He paused, "In addition to suicide, there are other things that can make people. Get out of the sad way."

The warden stopped, looking helpless: "I think you have misunderstood something, I am not sad."

Stark: "...Okay, you are not sad. But-can you go back to the office first?"

"No," the warden refused, "I will kill myself now."

Stark: "..."

He took a deep breath and tapped his watch twice behind him.The faint mechanical rubbing sound was undetectable, and within a few seconds, the golden red armour covered his left hand.

Stark raised his palm to the warden: "I think you have to go back to the warden's office. There is no discussion about this matter."

The warden was silent for a while and looked deeply into Stark's eyes: "--otherwise you would kill me?"

Stark: "..."

He took a deep breath and felt that it would be better to stun Mr. Warden on the spot, but then the voice of the artificial intelligence butler suddenly sounded: "Sir, there are 7 armed men approaching in your direction at 5 o'clock. The scan shows The gun depot is already occupied."

Without the need for artificial intelligence to continue prompting, Stark could hear the dense gunfire suddenly sounding behind him.

He immediately realized something, and quickly glanced at the warden: "You've already noticed their change?"

However, the warden's pupils opposite him slightly dilated, seeming to have a trace of heartache: "What?"

Stark immediately removed the palm cannon facing him: "You really shouldn't be making this hell of a joke at this time-follow me, did you bring a gun?"

The warden gave him a strange look: "I just asked you this sentence-I didn't have one, otherwise, what am I doing here?"

Stark: "...Damn it."

He heard the warden even added: "I don't even have a key to the prison door. The game system just doesn't equip me with this thing."

Stark: "...Kill me."

"No, no." The warden's tone suddenly became concerned, and even pressed his shoulder, "You must not die."

If Stark died, wouldn't Zhang Dianyu who returned to the game lose a source of subsidies — although the game is not everything, he only remembers this game now, and he thinks he will continue to play it.

Stark took a deep breath and looked at Mr. Warden with a complicated expression.

Zhang Dianyu saw a few people walking out in the direction of the gun storehouse, wearing fancy costumes and clown masks-but the orange and crimson prison uniforms were faintly revealed below.

It suddenly dawned on him and realized where this person came from.

"No." Zhang Dianyu said to himself, turning his head and ran back - the confinement area was on the east side of the warden's office, in the same direction.

Stark slammed his hand up, and the energy cannon hit a tear gas that had been thrown over, and he had to step back a little.

"Go back to your office, someone will meet you there!"

He shouted in the direction of the warden.

Immediately turned his head to deal with the chaos in front of him, and hoped that his armor could reach here earlier than the black bat on the opposite side.

Zhang Dianyu stopped outside the confinement area. It was quiet and seemed unusual.

He took out the bloody knife in his suit pocket, unbuttoned the first button of his neckline, and loosened his tie.

Anyway, he wanted to log out of the game, and he planned to give this honor to the clown-it was a pity that he didn't make it together last time, so I will try again this time.

It doesn't matter if it fails, as long as the game is not as real as the real world, he will put them all in the transformer room when he goes back.

Zhang Dianyu opened the game panel and looked at the confinement room on the map.

Surprisingly, the clown and the ogre were still there, while a prison doctor and a guard were walking out of the corridor side by side.

Zhang Dianyu frowned slightly, raising his vigilance.

The doctor was arranged by him, because the no-meal supply area in the confinement room requires the doctor to come over and give the prisoners a shot to resurrect them on the spot before the blood bars of the confinement prisoners are exhausted.

This is a very generous treatment-considering that the prison is still in deficit, and two prisoners will consume $3,000 in a few days, this is simply unique in the prison.

But the problem is that behind the doctors and guards, the clown is resurrected, and Lecter is still lying on the ground, his health bar is about to run out.

Zhang Dianyu had to suspect that these two men were also the inner support of the clown.

But from the map, they did not bring weapons.Zhang Dianyu squeezed the knife tightly.

The steady footsteps gradually approached, and the guards and doctors appeared at the door. They saw Zhang Dianyu from a distance and saluted him: "Sir."

Zhang Dianyu is ready to go.

However, the guard and the doctor did not stop, but hurriedly walked towards the other side-the gun depot.At this time, most of the police in the prison were mobilized to stop the riot.

But Zhang Dianyu obviously knew where the source of the riot should be.

At this moment, he found the clown's closed door opened.But the other party did not move, and a pleasant bubble appeared on his head, showing the words of expectation.

Zhang Dianyu stood there for a while, and gradually understood what the clown was expecting.

He walked into the confinement area, and his footsteps echoed in the corridor.

The author has something to say: Joker: Thank you Mr. Warden for sending a head (