Chapter 2801: The Great Clever Yin Selection

Imprint Selection thought the two crew members had come to rescue him, but when they entered together with his kidnappers and even laughed, he realized something was wrong.

"Do you know who I am?" This sentence had been held in Imprint Selection's heart for days, and he had never had the chance to say it—until now. Speaking it lifted his gloomy mood considerably.

Mainly because these kidnappers have no honor, they don't follow any rules—they kidnapped him and asked nothing, and even if he woke up slightly, they'd inject him with anesthesia.

Later, they likely feared the anesthesia would last too long and kill him, so they stopped giving it and instead tied him up. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a bearded, sweat-soaked bastard shoved two steaming socks into his mouth—so foul it nearly made him faint.

For these past few days, they haven't given him a single bite of food or sip of water, only administering nutrient injections on schedule. So he's sworn in his heart to chop these dog-fucking bastards into pieces—only then can he quell his inner hatred.

"Your name is Imprint Selection, and your grandfather is Imprint Zongquan, right?" The crew member laughed, slapping Imprint Selection's face: "Rumor says you're an idiot—and it's true. You could actually say something this brainless. If we didn't know who you were, why would we go through all this trouble to kidnap you?"

Imprint Selection's face darkened—not from fear, but from humiliation. He knows: from childhood, he's walked sideways through life. Bump into someone, they get hurt; collide with someone, they die. As long as he says, "I'm also Imprint Zongquan," no one dares to fart—no matter how much he suffers, he swallows it.

But now, they not only know who he is, but also know his grandfather—and still kidnapped him, humiliated him, called him an idiot. How could he possibly endure this?

"Good, good, good!" Imprint Selection sneered: "If you've got the guts, kill me. Otherwise, I'll settle this score properly—and make you regret being alive in this world."

"Kill you?" The crew member gave a sinister smile: "If it weren't for the order from above to spare your dog's life, I'd throw you into the sea right now to feed the fish. As for settling accounts—wait until you make it home alive, then we'll talk."

Imprint Selection could feel he was on a ship, but didn't know its size. He assumed they kidnapped him for money, so the ship must be near shore—but hearing the crew's words, he immediately sensed something was off.

"You… you… where are you taking me?" At this moment, Imprint Selection finally felt fear.

The crew member stood up, coldly saying: "We're sending you to Africa to mine. Once you earn enough for a ticket, you can come back."

"Since you know my identity and still dared to kidnap me, you must have backing." Though Imprint Selection is a bit slow, he's not utterly hopeless—he spoke clearly: "But no matter what you're relying on, it's ultimately just about money."

Imprint Selection curled his body, sitting up against the container panel: "You're smart—you brought me onto the ship. Even if my family knows I was kidnapped, they won't find me quickly."

The crew member laughed: "You're good at analyzing—then tell me, where exactly are you now?"

Imprint Selection spoke confidently: "Near the capital, only Qin Island City and Tianmen are coastal. Based on timing, you must have taken me onto a fishing boat in Qin Island City. Now we're no more than 150 nautical miles from Qin Island's coastline."

Imprint Selection's face showed some pride: "I'm not a god—I can't be 100% accurate—but the margin of error definitely won't be large, right?"

Not just the two crew members—others were stunned too, staring at Imprint Selection with complex expressions. And seeing those looks in his eyes, he knew they'd been intimidated by him.

Imprint Selection grew even more smug: "Sending me to Africa to mine as a negotiation tactic? Fresh. You've genuinely piqued my interest. Go on—how much do you want? I won't haggle."

The crew member smiled: "Aren't you afraid we'll kill you?"

"Not afraid!" Imprint Selection's tone was firm: "Everyone out here is just after money. This time, I'll not only meet your demands—I'll ensure future cooperation so you can make even more."

He paused, then continued: "I believe you're all smart people. Killing me benefits you nothing. With the power of the Imprint family, even if you flee to the ends of the earth, we'll find you. In the end, you might have the money to spend—but not the life to enjoy it."

"On the other hand, if you let me live, I won't pursue you. Take your money and live freely. And I truly admire you—I'll give you many chances to make big money, enough to live luxuriously for life."

"You really are a damn genius," the crew member said, sighing: "No wonder you're from the Imprint family—your brother Imprint Mo's head is full of shit, yours is full of piss. Put your two heads together, and you've got nothing but thin shit."

Imprint Selection stared at the crew member, bewildered: "You—what do you mean?"

As soon as he said that, the crew and others burst into loud laughter.

"Damn… damn!" A bearded man laughed so hard he could barely breathe: "This guy's too entertaining—I finally get how he had the guts to hire assassins… and who he wanted dead…"

"Shut up!" The crew member barked, cutting him off: "You wanna die, you bastard?"

The bearded man realized his mistake, his face went white, and he clamped his mouth shut.

The crew member stared at him coldly: "This is the first time. If there's a next time, I'll make sure you never open your mouth again."

The bearded man's face grew paler, he didn't argue—just promised: "It won't happen again. No next time."

"Hmph!" The crew member snorted: "Untie the ropes."

The man in the white coat bent down, untied the ropes, then kicked Imprint Selection's foot: "Get up. You've been suffocating in that container for days—go outside, get some air, see the scenery. Don't you damn well die on the way."

Imprint Selection's head felt like mush, his heart pounding—were these guys really going to kill him? So he didn't even hear the bearded man's words clearly. Now, suddenly freed, his mind cleared instantly. He thought: my words worked—that's why they let me go.

Because he'd been tied too long, it took a while before he could lean on the container and stand. Then he began slowly moving his stiff body, his face relaxing into a quiet ease.

"That's right—people live just to make money. With money, you can do as you please. Without it, you're just someone else's plaything." Imprint Selection stretched a bit, then walked out with still-stiff steps.

As he stepped out of the container, he froze. This was a massive cargo ship—not the fishing boat he'd imagined. The waves curling at the stern told him: this vessel was underway.

"Young Master Imprint!" The crew member stood beside him, his smile brighter than the sun: "This cargo ship is bound for Africa. If you don't want to go mine there, you can still swim back."

"After all, you just said we're only 150 nautical miles from shore—not far. We promise we won't stop you. And out of humanitarian spirit, I'll even give you a life jacket."