Mo Fan put on the clothes prepared by An Xin and came to the lounge, where he saw a middle-aged man in a suit waiting for him.
"Hello, player Mo Fan, I am a member of the Death Speed Race Committee. You can call me Zhou Hang."
"Mr. Zhou, nice to meet you." Mo Fan stepped forward and shook hands with the middle-aged man, saying politely.
Zhou Hang said: "I watched your game tonight. Your driving skills and fighting ability are unforgettable to me. You have great potential as a superstar. I wonder if you have any intention to officially join Death Speed and become a driver or escort?"
"Not interested." Mo Fan responded directly.
Such a straightforward rejection shocked Zhou Hang, "Can you tell me the reason?"
"The salary is too little and the bonus is too low."
The experimental qualification for implantable "neural driving" is not a permanent reward, it is just to cooperate with Xituo Company's experiments.
Putting aside the prosthetic body, the reward for the champion of the Death Race stage finals is only 300,000 federal coins.
It sounds like a lot, but to get this money, you must participate in a sufficient number of regular season games and accumulate a certain amount of points.
In the Death Race regular season, the winner of each game only gets 20,000 to 50,000 federal coins.
Subtracting the fleet operating costs, vehicle module repair and maintenance fees, the amount obtained is not much.
Porter, the second player in the standings, had to go through a lot of trouble to hire a D-class mercenary as a bodyguard for a day, and even offering a 50% discount was like cutting off flesh.
Even drivers with excellent results are like this, which shows the overall income level of death racing contestants.
On the other hand, Mo Fan, after tonight, no one will doubt the strength of his D-class mercenaries.
Not to mention that if you are promoted to a higher-level mercenary in the future, your worth will continue to increase.
Just a D-class mercenary, as long as he is strong enough, can earn more than the top players in the Death Race.
Only retired D-class mercenaries, or young D-class mercenaries who want a stable life, will work as escorts in the Death Race.
Zhou Hang knew his own affairs well, and knew that his cake-painting skills were not enough to fool a top D-class mercenary like Mo Fan, so he gave up the foreplay and went straight to the point.
"Player Mo Fan, I want to explain to you about the inside story about the game."
"There is indeed a mistake by our staff, and hackers found an opportunity to lock the location of the golden module. But the so-called shady story absolutely does not exist. I guarantee you with my personality."
Mo Fan yawned, "I'm a mercenary. I don't know much about technology or hacking. I can't understand your twists and turns."
Zhou Hang looked a little embarrassed and continued: "To express our apology, we have prepared some compensation and hope to gain your understanding."
After hearing that the hush money payment was finally entered, Mo Fan sat up straighter and raised his eyes to look at Zhou Hang.
"What compensation?"
"Ten thousand federal coins. I will pay you alone, and you do not need to split it equally with the Porter players. We hope that you will try to be fair and objective during the post-game interview, and do not make any biased remarks against our competition team."
Mo Fan frowned, glared angrily, and slapped his hand on the table.
"What do you mean, you want to stop me with money? Because of Team Quicksand's cheating, they got that offensive golden module and almost killed my Potter brother."
"That's a good brother who died with me in the competition!"
Zhou Hang said tentatively: "Twenty thousand federal coins."
"Ha, that's ridiculous. You're still asking for money. Do you have any conscience?" Mo Fan laughed angrily.
"A racing car loaded with two layers of defensive armor can be broken with just one scratch. Such a sharp blade is just a few centimeters away from my Potter brother. If my reaction is just one second slower, what will my Potter brother do?"
"Fifty thousand federal coins?" Mo Fan's pressure was so strong that Zhou Hang began to sweat on his forehead.
"Playing the harp to the ox."
Mo Fan spat, as if he was completely disappointed with Zhou Hang.
"Three golden modules. As an event organizer, you don't know what they represent? At the top of Shell Mountain, before the five consecutive hairpin turns, if I hadn't been on guard and was hit by that golden armor, would you have to compensate me?" Go buy virtual hell coins and burn them for me today next year?”
"One hundred thousand federal coins! No more. This is already the highest price I can give within my authority."
Mo Fan calmed down his anger and sat quietly on the sofa, as if he had given up on this world full of interests.
"I also have my bottom line, and I can forgive, but I will not lie or sell my morality in exchange for money. For the post-game interview, just ask Porter to go alone."
Twenty minutes later, the media interviewed the scene.
"Player Mo Fan, what do you think of tonight's event and the unofficial champion you mentioned?"
"Contestant Mo Fan, did you know this in advance to ask that question when facing Player Rolf?"
"Do you think that the official's unfair treatment of the War Eagle Racing Team is related to Porter's previous slump in popularity?"
…
Facing the barrage of questions and the media who stood one meter away but wanted to insert the microphone into his throat, Mo Fan clenched the anonymous chip holding 150,000 federal coins in his hand and said with a smile:
"I think this is a misunderstanding. In addition to being a player, I am also a senior spectator of the Death Race. I fully believe in the ability of the organizer of the event."
"As for the performance of the Quicksand Team tonight, it is normal. Luck is also part of the strength. Compared to finding three golden prosthetics, Porter was unable to continue the race due to injury. I, who temporarily replaced him as the driver, could only finish 1.03 Doesn’t a track with a % success rate look even luckier?”
A young female reporter said: "No, I think that is your strength, player Mo Fan."
"Oh, you praise me too much, beautiful lady. You can't see that my legs are shaking right now. If it happens again, I would rather give up the championship than take that path."
Take people's money and eliminate disasters with them.
This is Mo Fan's professional quality as a mercenary.
It took nearly an hour to deal with questions from all media and came to the final moment of the post-match interview.
"Last question, player Mo Fan, will you join the Death Race and become an official player, or will you continue to be a mercenary?"
Mo Fan responded with a smile: "I like freedom and unrestrainedness, so I choose to continue to be a mercenary. If you have a request and you want to ask me for help, just come to Yefeng Town Ruyi Office to send the request."
When the interview session ended, it was almost dawn.
When the interview reached midfield, Porter and Vartan sneaked away, leaving Mo Fan and An Xin behind.
Without a driver, Mo Fan could only borrow a car from the event team and drive An Xin home.
An Xin was sitting in the passenger seat and seemed to be in a good mood.
Mo Fan threw the anonymous chip to her and said, "Take 50,000 from it and transfer it to the hacker who will help tonight."
An Xin glanced at him and asked, "So generous?"
"Just make friends." Mo Fan likes to do things and doesn't like to sit in front of the computer and face large amounts of data.
But whether it is Azure Star or his previous world, having hackers behind the scenes to provide technical support can make the task much easier.
Therefore, he likes to make friends with hackers, especially capable hackers.
He was able to hack into the death racing team's server twice, so he was obviously not an ordinary hacker.
"I'll hand it over to her for you."
An Xin put away the chip and asked curiously: "I didn't know you were so good at driving."
"I said it before, but you didn't believe it."
"Who did you learn from? There is no driver as good as you in Tianche City."
Mo Fan quickly replied: "The "racing simulator" on the epteam platform. "
"Can't you make another excuse?"
An Xin pinched her eyebrows, not sure whether her headache was due to drinking too much or Mo Fan's answer.
“What about the “real speed car” on the Xrigin platform? "
An Xin was sure that the headache was really because of Mo Fan.
She was about to say something when she suddenly received a message. Mo Fan glanced at it and saw that the name of the sender was "Ebisu".
An Xin looked at Mo Fan and said, "The news you asked me to release before has been responded to. Someone wants to meet you."
