Rebirth: Super Banking System Chapter 2349 - 2189: I Think We Can Work Together

"Ah!"

Pure instinct.

She checked her body briefly and discovered no signs of assault, letting her release a deep breath of relief—even if it wasn't a huge concern, given her dazed state and all that followed.

It still felt oddly off.

Luckily.

She'd been worrying too much!

All at once.

"Click!"

The entrance door unlocked with a sharp sound, and a woman stepped inside. The instant Gitti spotted her, an unusual sensation surged up.

---A superior.

Indeed.

Right then, she naturally sensed that she'd aligned with their group, bound to follow orders, adhere to protocols, and guard confidences—everything felt perfectly in place.

"Awake?"

The soft query drifted from the woman.

"Yes."

Gitti rose swiftly, positioning herself on the rug.

"Hmm."

"Get changed first." The woman gestured toward the closet, "Choose something suitable; you've got ten minutes. Cosmetics are in the bathroom—prepare yourself and head down to the ground floor."

"Yes."

Gitti replied without delay.

Moments later.

The woman departed, and Gitti let out a relieved sigh, aware of the tight schedule, so she rushed into the bath, cleaned up in a flash, and selected an outfit from the wardrobe.

Back in the day.

This routine alone would drag on for a full hour, no doubt about it, yet after months in shared quarters, facing each day without makeup in a jail outfit.

It had transformed her completely.

Plus.

The facility offered daily showers, so she wasn't grimy—just a quick freshen-up.

Next.

She applied minimal makeup in under two minutes; without a clock, she couldn't track the time precisely, forcing her to hurry even more.

She swung the door open.

Descended the stairs.

Encountered nobody en route.

"Click! Click!"

She hurried to the ground level and spotted the woman lounging on a far-off couch; Gitti quickened her steps once more, nearly spraining her ankle in the heels she hadn't donned for ages.

"Very good."

"You arrived thirty seconds ahead of time." The woman indicated the seat opposite.

"Sit."

"Yes."

Gitti settled down right away.

Right after.

A steaming cup of coffee appeared, its comforting scent filling the air—something she hadn't savored in ages—but she restrained herself, unwilling to act too freely in front of this intimidating figure.

Woman or not.

"Drink."

"Yes."

"You're heading out today; the assignment's straightforward. Meet a contact you know—what to discuss, I'll brief you on shortly. For now, here's the essential backstory."

"Before."

"During your capture, we planted something intriguing at your hideout. Old Ford traced the leads and uncovered a staggering truth."

"You."

"Gitti."

"Are Ling, the shadowy supporter of Myanmar's current President. All operations in Myanmar today trace back to you, with you at the helm."

"..."

Once the 'backstory' was laid out.

In a flash.

Gitti froze in utter shock.

What?

Ling?

Supporter?

Damn it!

What's the deal with all this? What scheme does this faction pursue, weaving such an enormous narrative, casting her as the ruling queen in this setup.

Heavens!

Way too theatrical!

Yet.

Memories of her mother surfaced, and Gitti's lovely eyes sharpened; alright then, splendid, utterly splendid—deceiving that individual sounds far too enticing.

"Now."

"Your mission boils down to this: as a hidden player, assist in neutralizing certain risks, agitate tensions among the European and American conglomerates."

"Advance our gains."

"..."

"As compensation."

"You'll earn freedom to live externally, though you can't wander freely—restricted to designated zones. Any issues with that?"

"Yes."

Gitti voiced promptly.

"Go on."

"I need to ask: do you intend to ultimately dismantle the consortium?"

"Yes."

So direct.

Then.

A spark of optimism ignited within Gitti, "That clan... I desire... for specific individuals to face consequences." She'd assumed the response might waver.

After all.

It's no small matter.

But surprisingly.

The woman answered without pause, "Feasible. Someday ahead, you could even seize control of that clan. Keep serving us well—any further queries?"

"No."

Gitti replied with delight.

At present.

Hope existed now, at least; as for whether the group might discard her later, she was certain they wouldn't—such faith came instinctively.

Even if the entire world turned against her, this organization never would; that conviction was etched deep in her being, yet it didn't cloud her judgment elsewhere.

Like.

Savoring this... the thrill of scheming games.

...

The following day.

Dawn.

"Thanks, doctor!"

"No problem."

"..."

They guided the old man to the premier intensive care unit, where the senior expressed gratitude to the attending physician—and before arriving, he'd already approved a ten-million-dollar transfer to the man.

A mere hundred grand.

Far too paltry.

Couldn't bear the embarrassment.

Naturally.

He wasn't truly reckless, but pursued another goal; once the doctor delivered the medication, they relocated to a hotel close by.

The facility offered beds, sure, but typical clinical ones—why endure that? They reserved a luxurious penthouse instead, overlooking the sprawling cityscape via expansive windows.

"Remarkable."

The old man marveled.

In five years.

Transforming the area into this marvel.

Truth be told.

Utterly astonishing; those revolutionary innovations, once believed to stem from Myanmar, now appeared as the brilliance of Western minds.

All of it.

Seemed so surreal, including one element that profoundly struck the elder: the impeccable administration here, unified from leadership to staff.

Spying.

Corruption.

Assurances.

None succeeded; CIA agents struck out entirely in this domain, and the consortium-backed operatives faced constant setbacks.

Formidable.

Bizarre.

Dominant.

...

Staff assessments of the location rang with praise, frequently puzzled over their missteps that exposed weaknesses, leading to expulsion and blacklisting.

Lately.

This unity appeared to intensify.

Abruptly.

His phone buzzed—a private line, shared only with allies; spotting the unknown caller, the elder grinned faintly.

After ten minutes.

In the lounge.

An alluring woman occupied the seat facing the elder, her features recognizable from years past, though that sighting was five or six years back—Gitti had evolved dramatically.

Stunning.

Graceful.

And radiating.

An aura of unshakeable poise.

Ha!

Such a shift in just a few years! The elder mused inwardly; his trip here included a motive to witness Gitti personally.

Ten million dollars.

Viewed as a consultation charge; otherwise, squandering funds wasn't his style, and as for routing through intermediaries to reach Gitti... locating her would suffice.

Nowadays.

Likely only top Myanmar brass knew of Gitti's presence; his status precluded overt inquiries.

Evidently.

The message had been received.

"How's life treated you these years?" The elder smiled warmly.

"Quite well."

"Plenty to eat and wear." Gitti's steady voice conveyed serenity; after a day's adjustment, her demeanor had shifted enormously from prior times.

Almost regal.

In that instant.

Her straightforward words reached the elder's ears, carrying an undeniable weight that implied: Gitti had maintained her opulent lifestyle, unchanged.

"I believe we can form a partnership." The elder cut to the chase.