Rebirth: Super Banking System

Chapter 1997: Chapter 1820: Fake, All Fake

Third floor.

In front of a giant display case.

Snap!

Snap!

Snap!

Flashes make this place feel like a celebrity press conference, yet no one present thinks that any celebrity is more attractive than this thing in front of them, because it’s made of gold.

—

Item Name: Golden Armor.

Height: 9.9 meters.

Weight: 8.8 tons.

Material: Pure gold.

—

The audience present all feel the museum has gone mad. Gold, 8.8 tons, according to international gold prices, is worth over two billion Asia Dollars, two billion, damn that’s three hundred million US Dollars.

God!

Heavens!

How extravagant!

Before coming here.

They had prepared themselves mentally, mostly out of curiosity. The museum didn’t disclose what the exhibit was, just opened for reservations, and since it’s the largest single building in the New District, naturally, it’s worth a look.

Therefore,

they came to join the fun.

Initially thought,

it would be some inconspicuous antiques.

Little did they expect,

the place wasn’t primarily showcasing antiques, but rather flaunting ’I have money’. Look at it, over a hundred tons, worth hundreds of billions, turned into what you see before you.

Weapons.

Furniture.

Plants.

Animals.

Portraits.

Even… there is a real Golden Tower.

—

Item Name: Golden Tower.

Height: 6.6 meters.

Weight: 12.3 tons.

Material: Pure gold.

Total Gold Bricks: 36,500 blocks.

—

After viewing,

many people were flustered.

Damn.

This kind of wealth flaunting, aren’t they afraid of being robbed?

However,

the next moment, everyone smiled wryly. Rob? This stuff is measured in tons, without a truck, what could you rob, even if you could, you can’t haul it away. But, they really want to take a piece home.

Wuwu!

Why show me such things.

My eyes.

Why are they filled with money!

“Fake, it must be fake!”

Someone questioned.

“I don’t believe it.”

“Yes.”

“Show us the evidence.”

“…”

However,

most of the tourists around looked at them as if they had lost their minds.

Fake?

You’re joking, it’s impossible, has your internet been cut? Do you not know that Myanmar’s gold reserves rank among the top five globally? A few months ago, they sold 300 tons of gold.

tons!

Not pounds.

That gold theoretically belonged to Myanmar Central Bank, which means it belonged to Myanmar Bank Group, and the museum is one of its industries. Using one or two hundred tons of gold for an exhibition, would they fake it?

Tch!

Frogs at the bottom of the well.

“…”

Uh!

The penetrating gaze was too much, those questioning lowered their heads quickly. Questioning that Myanmar Bank Group can’t produce hundreds of tons of gold is like questioning a billionaire cannot afford a Mercedes-Benz.

But,

really… so envious.

Golden Tiger.

Golden Leopard.

Golden Tree.

Golden Horse.

…..

Each one.

Is unique.

Each one.

Surpasses dimension.

Each one.

Makes you want to knock off a piece to take home, the tourists’ eyes already a little red, as if the museum exhibited billions in cash, even billionaires find it hard to stay calm.

Shimmering gold.

Glowing yellow.

Too tempting to commit a crime.

Online.

“So bright!”

“I’m almost blinded.”

“Awesome!”

“I like that golden longsword, 20 meters, 1.8 tons, adorned with gemstones of various colors, pity, there’s no note on the plaque about whether the gemstones are real, otherwise, the value would more than double.”

“Definitely fake.”

“Indeed.”

“There aren’t such big gemstones in the world.”

“True.”

“However, the jade belt around the waist of the Golden Armor might be real, experts have appraised it, at least worth ten million, probably they thought it didn’t match the main material’s price, so it wasn’t noted on the plaque.”

“Extravagant!”

“My hands are already eager.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Rob.”

“Kudos for the courage, go ahead.”

“Not daring.”

“Tch!”

“All gold! So vulgar!”

In the discussions,

there’s no shortage of sour remarks.

But,

immediately taught a lesson.

“Vulgar? You’re foolish.”

“Idiot.”

“They’re kindly broadening your horizons, yet you’re not happy. What kind of person are you? In this life, I bet you’ll never have a chance to see so much gold up close. Be content with what you see.”

“…”

It’s said that visiting museums is to see things with historical depth, exuding class. However, at this moment, a sea of gold directly lowered everyone’s standards. Gold, I want to see gold.

No antiques.

No depth.

No matter.

With so much gold, it’s worth it.

A dozen-meter-long blade.

Dozen-meter armor.

A hundred-meter dinosaur.

More than sufficient.

Who goes to see what antiques? Of course, it doesn’t mean the museum has no antiques. On the contrary, there are many. However, under every antique, there’s a label saying: Replica Product.

Fake.

Fake.

All fake.

Indeed.

Each one.

If it has ’historical’ in it, it’s all labeled as such.

Therefore,

it didn’t spark much interest.

However,

somewhat professional people noticed clues. Some items that could never appear genuinely, like Tutankhamun’s golden mask, like Emperor Otto’s crown, being labeled as replicas was fine.

But,

some exist only in legends.

Unknown.

No one knows what they look like, yet you just slap a ’replica’ tag on it, isn’t it too rash? Things that experts can’t ascertain shapes, you’re imagining.

“Protest!”

Immediately,

they went to the Museum Management Committee.

At the same time,

they pulled along journalists.

“What’s the matter?”

The manager showed up.

“You show disrespect to history, self-imagining precious cultural relics, displaying them so brazenly, it’s very harmful.” A young Western archaeologist spoke righteously.

Beside him.

Western journalists began recording.

“Oh.”

The manager replied lightly.

“…”

Oh.

What kind of answer is that? The young man was dumbfounded.

The next moment.

The manager stared at him, saying: “The labels say these are replicas, they’re fake. As for deducing the unknown based on the known, it’s an archaeological science. Where are we wrong?”

Just one sentence.

Left the young man speechless.

Indeed.

It’s a branch of archaeology.

“It shouldn’t look like this.” The young man retorted.

“What do you think it should look like?”

The manager smiled at him.

“This…”

He had no idea what it should look like, only knowing it was lost for many years, with only records.

Seeing this,

The manager sighed.

This guy.

Level too low, still here to make trouble, and impolitely:

“All cultural relics.”

“Known.”

“Unknown.”

“We have relevant bases for replication. Since many things might be lost, maybe in ten years, a hundred years, a thousand years they’ll never appear, why not reasonably replicate them?”

“Why bury them in darkness forever.”

“If so.”

“Isn’t it a reasonable imitation?”

“In any case.”

“Please don’t make unreasonable trouble, if you think our reverse research is a problem, then go find the real one, and we’ll apologize, then… recreate, thank you.”

The manager finished speaking.

The reception room.

Leaving behind a dumbfounded archaeologist.

“””