Simulation Game: Crisis Management

Chapter 455 - 213: Antonie Yassen_2



Chapter 455 - 213: Antonie Yassen_2

This information seems trivial, but in reality, it reveals the mechanism behind the game.

To Gu Ji, it felt like a graphics card, a CPU running a large-scale AAA game. The graphics card maximizes performance and reduces power consumption by rendering only the main areas of the screen in real-time, applying detailed effects like ray tracing and physics only where needed. The distant parts of the map, unnoticed by human eyes, are simply blurred with basic textures as a workaround.

"Could it be that this game isn’t invincible either, but like a computer, it requires computing power?"

Gu Ji’s heart was suddenly sparked with a bold idea.

The assessment of intelligence often starts with a reasonable hypothesis based on existing information.

Although he didn’t have concrete evidence at the moment, from the various clues revealed in the "Crisis Management Game," it seemed to be some kind of simulator game running on a computer.

But.

It could be a real-world crisis simulator running on a supercomputer!

Setting distractions aside, he calculated the time; a whole night had passed, and the AM649 flight accident should just have ended. He opened a webpage to search for information about AM649, only to find very little.

Gu Ji only then realized that foreign flights often first spread on the international internet.

Luckily, he had the ghost server, so he didn’t need to rely on Gao Bo’s VPN and Little Bluebird account anymore, or the kid would mock him for being "undisciplined."

Sure enough.

The AM649 topic was already trending on Little Bluebird.

Because the incident involved over a hundred passengers, it was considered a major air disaster, drawing significant attention and causing a stir.

[God! Why punish these kind people like this!]

[Have you noticed something? This year’s disasters are exceptionally frequent: first the attack on the African airport, then the virus outbreak on the Japanese cruise, followed by the bomb attack in New York, and the massive flooding in India. Could this be the end of the world?]

[Maybe the Mayan prophecy was about 2024, not 2012!]

[I’ve just managed to contact a friend on the flight. They said the United States and Mexico joint police forces intervened and are escorting them to Mexico City!]

[Praise to God for saving these lost children.]

[When Terry and I learned of this news, we felt immense sadness. We immediately leveraged all our contacts, inquiring with the TSA and FBI, and found that Mr. Yassen is currently safe and sound, thank goodness...]

[Antonie Yassen was on that plane? Oh dear, he’s one of my favorite guests. I hope he’s alright!]

The last few comments caught Gu Ji’s attention.

Only then did he realize that the character he embodied, "Yasen," was actually a somewhat renowned TV show guest. Though not as wildly popular across the internet as Bear Grylls and Terry, he’d still earned a loyal following in the American and European regions.

"Jungle Expeditionary Army veteran, BOPE Special Police Fifth Tactical Company retired, K9 Unit consultant, turns out he’s one of us!"

As Gu Ji browsed through "Yasen’s" personal information, he hadn’t expected both of them to share the same profession. In fact, he had initially speculated that this guy likely had military experience because he had accidentally noticed a skull tattoo pierced by a military dagger on Yasen’s right shoulder. Such tattoos were often left by early soldiers.

"This guy probably wouldn’t have needed my guidance to figure out how to deal with the two hijackers on the plane."

It was the first time he’d seen such a strong game character.

In wilderness survival combat and K9 training, "Old Yasen" was even stronger than he was!

I still have so much to learn...

He closed the notebook.

He opened the screen.

Inside the purple bus, Riddle glanced at the content on the computer, then discreetly eyed Yasen’s back as he returned to his seat, involuntarily shivering.

He couldn’t understand where the old guy had learned this information.

FBI special agent? Or someone from the CIA?

But his Spanish was as fluent as a native speaker. Could he be from the Mexican Intelligence Center?

He scratched his head in frustration, unable to fathom Yasen’s true intentions.

In fact.

Even Yasen himself was unclear about why things were this way.

His wearied eyes were fixed on Bolton, who was reporting the "dual-engine failure" cause of the AM649 flight to the airline, but in reality, he was secretly contemplating the entire process of the air disaster.

It was certain.

He and the co-pilot completed the emergency landing of AM649;

He coordinated with the Torreon National Guard of Mexico to rescue the flight hostages.

On the surface, there seemed to be no issues.

Emergency landing a plane, finding the hijackers, rescuing hostages.

Yasen was full of a sense of justice and was happy to punish evildoers. If faced with such a disaster again, he would step forward and do what he could, just as he did now.

However, was all this really what he wanted to do?

Yasen turned his head, his peripheral vision catching the black-haired flight attendant beside him and Riddle, sitting in the back, in his line of sight.

He didn’t know these two people at all. In fact, he had never even seen them before boarding this flight, yet he had a strong urge to investigate and pursue them.

Most importantly.

Yasen didn’t know a thing about planes.

His military service was with the Brazilian Jungle Expeditionary Army, usually stationed in the Amazon Rainforest, working with French foreign mercenaries on various military tasks like gold mine claims, annexed nation border disputes, strategic resource deposits, and so on.

Even when he later joined Skull Team, he was always responsible for tactical assaults and capturing drug dealers, never touching aviation flying.

"There’s only one possibility: I’ve been drugged and secretly trained."

During his military service, Yasen had heard about many special psychological drugs used by military intelligence organizations, like truth serum. Administering one or two sleeping substances to make him temporarily forget certain things wasn’t difficult.

He also heard stories from Brazilian drug dealers during Skull Team capture missions about a drug called "Heaven" popular in the East Asian region, fulfilling all of a person’s spiritual desires and making them a slave to their desires.

Even the currently trending "brain-computer interface," remote control, and so on.

"Regardless of the method used, anyone capable of doing these things without a trace is definitely not just a few people or an ordinary organization. Perhaps this person can untie some of my mysteries."

Yasen’s eyelid twitched slightly as he looked at Riddle again.

He knew that this guy definitely still harbored some secrets.

At nine o’clock in the evening in Mexico, the convoy successfully reached the capital: Mexico City, driving all the way from outside the city to a luxurious hotel in the city center.

At the hotel entrance, the fully armed National Guard was strictly guarding the hotel’s surroundings.

People from Panama Airlines had been waiting at the door early to receive the bus passengers.

"When can we finally leave here!"

"Our company is negotiating with the Mexico Civil Aviation Authority to expedite the arrangement of flights for everyone. In the meantime, please rest a bit at the hotel, and don’t worry about safety."

"Damn, I just want to get out of this country quickly!"

...

The passengers complained, but the whole day’s escape had exhausted them physically and mentally, so they eventually entered the hotel, albeit reluctantly.

While checking in, Yasen made a point to note Riddle’s room number.

After entering his room.

He set down his backpack, sat on the bed, raised his wrist, and quietly waited for five minutes, deducing that everyone had likely settled in to rest. He got up to find Riddle for some answers.

But just as he reached the door.

Knock, knock, knock!

A knocking sound came from outside. Yasen’s eyes turned cold, and the air disaster incident had his nerves on edge. He grabbed a wine opener from the table, instinctively pressed himself against the wall, and slowly moved towards the door. "Who?"


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