The Immortal of Plague begins by establishing the root of lung fire.

Song You had seen the kind of phone that Priya mentioned before when he was browsing short videos. This kind of phone uses multiple satellite relay encryption, and the calls made are all random numbers, making it almost impossible to be traced and located. At least Zhang Lihong and the people from the Second Municipal Hospital don't have that kind of means.

Song You's original plan was to find a cell phone in the manor, make a call, and then destroy it. Now, with this high-security equipment, the risk has been reduced to the minimum.

"Lead the way," Song You ordered.

Priya stuffed the notebook back into her nightgown pocket, turned around, and walked ahead.

The two left the guest room and entered the interior corridor of the manor's main building. Song You adjusted his lung pressure to lower his breathing rate, and his footsteps fell on the Persian carpet without making a sound.

He followed a step behind Priya, one hand always on her back, his gaze scanning the top of the walls and the corners. The corridor was densely packed with surveillance cameras, and Song You quickly calculated the rotation cycles of the cameras in his mind.

"Stop." Song Youshen placed his other hand on Priya's shoulder.

Priya stopped and straightened her back. Song You pointed to the intersection of the corridor ahead: "Wait."

Priya nodded and clasped her hands together in front of her.

Fifteen seconds later, the sound of leather shoes stepping on the paving stones came from the intersection. Two security personnel crossed the corridor on the left and headed to the right.

Once the security guards were out of sight, Song You let go of their hands: "Let's go."

Priya walked ahead, her heart pounding. The East Asian man behind her was meticulous and mysterious, much like the characters in the novels she had read. East Asia has a long history, and he definitely belonged to some ancient and secretive underground organization.

After passing through three corridors, the two stopped at a stairwell corner on the third floor.

Looking up, there was a heavy double mahogany door, which led to Bharat's private office. Four fully armed security guards stood outside the door, with walkie-talkies hanging on their waists and submachine guns in their hands.

Bharat values ​​his privacy highly, and security forces are concentrated at the entrance.

Song You stood behind the wall, pondering how to deal with these four people.

A fair hand reached out and handed over a folded notebook page, which Song You took and unfolded.

"They go downstairs to the security room for dinner every evening at 7 p.m. The shift changers don't come up until 7:15 p.m. There's a 15-minute gap in between."

Song You glanced at his watch; it was 6:58.

It seems that Priya didn't do nothing during her house arrest; at least she figured out the security rules of the manor very well.

Song You crumpled the note into a ball, stuffed it into his pocket, and nodded to indicate that he understood.

Two minutes later, static from the walkie-talkie came from upstairs right on time.

After the four security guards finished responding, they pushed open the door to the stairwell and went downstairs through a hidden passage on the other side. Soon, the footsteps disappeared completely.

Song You strode up the stairs and pushed open the door, with Priya following closely behind.

"I remember there are only fifteen minutes left." Priya took out her notebook and wrote. "The second team will be here soon."

Song You closed the door behind him, his gaze sweeping across the spacious office. On the desk sat a thick, black cell phone, without any brand logo, its casing made of matte metal, very similar to the one he had seen before.

He walked over, placed a piece of paper under his hand, picked up his phone, and found that it had no password. He probably thought it was absolutely safe and had no precautions.

Priya turned and walked behind the door, peering through the crack to observe the outside. She pressed her hands against the door, breathing rapidly. Participating in this infiltration operation herself, this experience of walking on the edge of danger, was very exciting for her.

Based on his memory, Song You dialed Meng Wenyuan's number, but the receiver only gave a dial tone and remained unanswered for a full minute.

Time was of the essence, so he hung up and immediately dialed another number.

The president's office in the headquarters building of Ruikang Pharmaceutical in Shenhai City.

The clock struck 9:30. The night outside the French windows was deep, and neon lights reflected on the glass.

Meng Meng leaned back in her large leather office chair, rubbing her temples with one hand.

She was wearing a well-tailored black business suit, her long legs crossed beneath the pencil skirt, black stockings encasing her shapely calves, and black stilettos.

The female secretary pushed open the door and put down a document: "President Meng, this is the financial statement for last quarter, as well as payment reminders from several suppliers."

Meng Meng waved her hand: "Put it on the table, and then check the other documents for any errors."

The secretary left and closed the door behind her.

The office quieted down, and Meng Meng sighed, kicked off her high heels, and stepped onto the soft carpet.

Bad news has been coming one after another in recent months.

First, her father had an accident, then the patent for the company's flagship product expired, new drug development stalled, cash flow became tight, and several old rivals joined forces to suppress the stock price. She and her elder brother, Meng Wenyuan, were appointed to take over this mess in a time of crisis, and they worked non-stop every day.

She rubbed her face vigorously, took a deep breath, and picked up the coffee on the table without any regard for her image, taking a sip. The coffee had gone cold, and a bitter taste spread across her tongue.

Song You's face appeared in my mind.

When her family had troubles, she was afraid of getting herself into a mess and dragging Song You down, so she decisively broke up with him. Song You was resilient and planned things out. She had originally planned that if Song You worked hard at the hospital and became a doctor after getting a permanent position, he could live a stable and smooth life.

Who would have thought that Song You would file a formal complaint against the attending physician in his department, exposing all the scandals of the Second Municipal Hospital.

She was incredulous when she heard the news a few days ago. If she hadn't been under so much pressure, she believed Song You wouldn't have done such a thing. The original plan was for her brother to take him to India to train and relax.

There was also a selfish reason: he wanted to wait until things calmed down before bringing Song You back to help him.

Now, she simply can't find him. Song You disappeared from the airport and hasn't shown up since. She tried everything she could to find him, but to no avail.

Meng Meng felt somewhat guilty. If they hadn't broken up back then, and she had arranged for him to get into Ruikang Pharmaceutical, he wouldn't have ended up in this situation today.

Their fate is now unknown, and there's not even a word from them.

There's been progress on my brother Meng Wenyuan's side. As long as he signs the cooperation agreement in India, Ruikang Pharmaceuticals will receive a huge investment, and the company's crisis will be resolved.

This is the only good news recently. After that, I'll have my brother look for Song You again in India.

Mengmeng's personal cell phone on her desk vibrated. She picked it up, and a number appeared on the screen.

She hovered her finger above the screen, about to hang up, when she suddenly remembered the news she had recently seen.

Telecom fraud and kidnapping cases have been rampant in Southeast Asia lately, appearing on the news daily. Song You has disappeared; could he have been tricked into going to northern Myanmar to escape disaster?

He was an orphan, penniless and without connections. If he were kidnapped, the only person the kidnappers could squeeze out of his contacts was his ex-girlfriend.

Are they here to demand ransom?