Rebirth: Super Banking System Chapter 2517 - 2355: Let’s Duel

Right now.

Thailand.

Numerous capitalists have caught wind of the tantalizing prospect.

Don't forget.

Phase Two's southern tip sits directly beside Thailand. Hundreds of kilometers of Thai coast stretch to the south, offering little appeal for development before.

Since no one paid attention.

Yet.

Today.

Phase Two has pushed up to the Thai border, flipping the script entirely. Add in the south line's tourism surge, and this spot's worth shines brightly.

Hence.

They feel an urge they can't ignore.

...

The capitalists huddled up.

"This cake arrives at our doorstep. We'd be idiots not to bite."

"Exactly."

"Yes."

"Don't get too excited; Myanmar's tourism properties thrive due to their all-around excellence, beyond just prime location."

"Spot on."

"..."

Though just a border apart, worries linger that even built projects might not sell, much like foreign ventures failing to replicate Myanmar's successes.

"So, let's mimic their approach."

"Tough."

"Myanmar's powerhouse status is impossible to fake."

"..."

All of a sudden.

A voice piped up.

"What if we pull in the Myanmar Bank Group?"

Hearing that.

Silence blanketed the room.

Not from shock at the notion, but reluctance to split profits—possibly a hefty share—which stung.

"I say it's workable; better a smaller cut than a 50-50 split."

"Hmm..."

In the end.

They swallowed the bitter pill.

—Bring them on board.

...

One day passed.

"What?"

"No interest?"

The news hit, leaving Thai capitalists dumbfounded. After all, it seemed like effortless cash, merely leveraging the Myanmar Bank Group's prestige.

Who could've guessed?

They flat-out declined.

"Why though?"

"They cited inability to ensure quality—not building standards, but the tourism setup: safety, infrastructure, legal framework..."

"..."

"They called it: beyond control."

Everyone listened.

Then silence fell.

Clearly.

Their scheme crumbled; they'd hesitated to share before, but now eager, the other side showed no bite. The rejection highlighted strict demands.

For one.

Safety must hit sky-high levels.

For two.

Tourism elements—from quality to prices—demand ironclad oversight. Thailand's scene remains wildly disorganized.

For three.

No rival builds permitted nearby.

For four.

Beach space per person.

...

To sum up.

Borrowing that prestige proves tricky. Hitting those marks challenges them deeply. Per capita beach? Utterly unmanageable.

Over in Myanmar.

Delin Province's south stays sparsely populated.

Hotels.

Homes.

All capped, preventing overcrowding. Thailand? Expect hordes of all sorts, sparking inevitable safety woes.

"Drop it!"

"We'll manage solo."

Out of options.

If they won't join, force it? No choice but self-reliance; profits and risks split even, yet they bet on victory.

Lacking Myanmar Bank Group just trims earnings.

...

On Thailand's tourist zone plans.

Truth be told.

Tang Qing couldn't care less; Myanmar builds boost its economy. Thailand? Nah, let locals tangle themselves.

No meddling urge.

Dreaming of project riches?

Ha!

Avoiding losses would count as win. Myanmar sets the bar northwards—safety, amenities, service all elite.

With cash in hand.

Who picks Thailand?

True enough.

Thailand might ape Delin bits, but allure stems from Myanmar's full vibe too.

Slight premium, and folks flock there.

...

July 10th.

Shanghai.

"Brother!"

Midday.

Qin Shiqi and crew landed, heading straight to Tang Qing's villa. Half a year on, the girls looked tougher, barely altered otherwise.

Cough!

Tang Qing held back that thought.

"You're even prettier now."

"Naturally."

Qin Shiqi tilted her chin proudly.

"Come on."

"Spar with me!"

First sight.

Qin Shiqi's fists itched; she unleashed a fierce kick at Tang Qing, whipping up gusts. An ordinary foe? Crippled for sure.

But.

She knew this barely scratched him. Memories lingered of his rebar-shattering punch on concrete.

Alas.

Half-year grind yielded no such feat.

Still.

Bricks now shatter under her strike.

Taking note.

Tang Qing lifted a hand, snagging her ankle mid-blur. Absent nerve telekinesis secrecy.

No hand needed.

"Hold up, food first, fight after," Tang Qing grinned.

"Fine."

Qin Shiqi agreed, aroma from the living room winning her over, then linked with Lin Jiaxue amid Tang Nian’er and Qin Shiyu chats.

Into the living room they went.

Diving into the feast with gusto.

Elegance?

Grace?

Screw that.

Family here, no pretense. Their cheeks ballooned from stuffing, drawing Tang Qing's laugh as he dug in.

Snatched bites taste best.

...

Post-meal.

"Heads up!"

"Ha!"

"Ow! Brother, face again?"

"..."

Same routine: three stunners pummeled black-and-blue by Tang Qing, bruises everywhere. Harmless anyway.

Finally.

Girls slumped weary on the wood floor.

"Brother, check—face puffed like a steamed bun. Spare the face?" Qin Shiqi whined, lips pursed at Tang Qing.

"Fists and feet spare no one," Tang Qing huffed. "Feeding you moves—absorb fast."

"..."

The trio bought Tang Qing's line, or they'd skip these beatdowns. Looks wrecked post-fight.

Yet swift heals.

Back then.

Average bodies meant week-long bruises. Later, three-five days. Past first-level gene lock breakthrough.

Two days max.

Bruises vanished, regen insane. Plus no real damage, beauty intact next morn.

This trip.

Shanghai for the girls wasn't mere fun.

Internships.

Training.

Balanced seamless.

Tasting superhuman power, strength hunger burned. Tang Qing shielded them now.

Weathering gales under his wing, luxury life.

Reflecting.

Tang Qing shoulders heavy loads, so they crave power to aid, lighten his load.

"Tomorrow, tag along with Jiaxue to Comet Group, work side by side after." Clingy trio, same firm fits.

"Got it."

"Sure thing."