The film starts with the Navy SEALs

"What's your name?" Colonel Coltrane asked, his voice calm, making it difficult to tell what he was thinking.

"Jovan, Jovan Nisani." Jovan replied quickly, as if he had grasped the last straw, with a hint of expectation in his eyes.

"What's your name?" Colonel Kechuan seemed not to have heard Jovan's answer and continued to repeat the previous question, his tone still as calm as water.

The expression on Jovan's face became very complicated, and he said with a bit of bitterness: "All we do is just to survive. We must destroy the enemy before they destroy us. This is war." He did not directly answer Colonel Kechuan's question, but replied in another way, with a hint of helplessness and confusion in his eyes.

"No!" Colonel Coltrane shook his head and said firmly: "What you are going to do is not war." There was a hint of seriousness in his eyes, as if he was revealing an unknown secret.

"You are no different from us. Your people just stood by and let everything happen." There was a hint of anger and unwillingness in Jovan's voice. He struggled to sit up, but lay down heavily again because of the pain in his wound.

"There are some bottom lines we cannot cross, and we will not make the same mistake again." Colonel Coltrane's words were full of profound meaning, making it hard to understand. His eyes revealed a hint of firmness, as if he was holding on to something.

Jovan seemed to understand and said in a serious tone: "Whether I am Jovan or Blanco, what difference does it make now? We cannot change the past. Where did the past take you? It's stressful, my old friend." Jovan, who had been refusing to admit it, said these strange words at this time. It was obvious that he answered Colonel Coltrane's question in his own way and indirectly admitted that he was Blanco.

"Bring me here, sit across from you, my old friend." Colonel Coltrane's expression changed slightly, and it was obvious that this Blanco was very special to him. His eyes revealed a hint of memories and emotion, as if he had returned to a certain time in the past. The atmosphere of the conversation between the two also became a little strange, and the air was filled with an indescribable tension and subtlety.

And in this weird atmosphere, Jovan's life gradually dimmed due to excessive blood loss. His eyes slowly closed, and his eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, and he could no longer open them. The bloody hand covering the wound also slid weakly to the ground with a slight sound. Colonel Kechuan, who had been watching Jovan from the side and remained unmoved from beginning to end, had a complicated expression. He was struggling in his heart, as if something was tearing him apart. After struggling for about a few seconds, he still seemed unable to let go of something, and finally chose to stand up. He slowly walked to Jovan's side, looked down at this former "old friend", and a hint of hesitation was revealed in his eyes. He didn't know if his next decision was correct, but he knew that this decision might change everything...

……

Albania, this ancient and mysterious land, carries countless stories and legends. Surrounded by mountains, the Dimachi family mansion stands quietly, like a silent witness, witnessing the rise and fall of the family.

The outer wall of the mansion was covered with green ivy, and the traces of time left deep and shallow grooves on the mottled bricks and stones, as if telling the past glory and vicissitudes. As night fell, the dim light shone through the windows of the first-floor hall, forming a sharp contrast with the darkness of the night, and the faint noise broke the tranquility of the night.

In the lobby on the first floor, rich folk music was like a surging tide, hitting people's eardrums one after another. In the passionate melody, the rhythm of the hand drum was bright and warm, and the notes of the string instruments were like smart elves, jumping and circling in the air. A group of burly men sat together, their faces filled with undisguised indulgence and madness. Sweat slid down their rough cheeks, flashing a strange light under the light, and mixed with the smell of alcohol and tobacco in the air, forming an intoxicating and uneasy atmosphere.

The table was filled with all kinds of wine bottles, the glass bottles reflected colorful light, the wine rippled in the cup, exuding a mellow and strong aroma. These big men drank the wine in big gulps, the wine flowed down the corners of their mouths, soaking their worn and sloppy fronts, but they didn't care, as if this was the normal state of their lives. There were also people smoking on the side, the smoke from the cigarettes was swirling and rising, covering their faces in a hazy state, and their eyes were flashing with blurred and excited light behind the smoke, as if they were in a paradise where all troubles were forgotten.

Mike was in the middle of the revelry crowd. His face was a little drunk, his cheeks were abnormally flushed due to the effect of alcohol, but his eyes revealed a crazy excitement, as if the whole person was injected with an uncontrollable passion. This time, the process of buying virus samples was full of twists and turns and thrills, and it was not smooth. But in his opinion, these were just insignificant episodes. The mastermind was still at large, and only a few insignificant brothers died. As long as the virus samples had entered the market, those big buyers with a keen sense of smell knew that he was holding the "treasure" that could change his fate, and everything would turn around, and the future would still be full of hope.

He knew very well that he had gone to great lengths to snatch the virus weapon not to satisfy some absurd personal desire, but purely for the tempting money. In his value system, money is everything and the only criterion for measuring success and happiness. As long as someone can afford a high price, he will sell this dangerous weapon without hesitation. Morality and bottom line are nothing but worthless things in his eyes. In the face of the huge temptation of money, they are completely vulnerable.

However, while the hall was immersed in an indulgent noise, the study was shrouded in a heavy and depressing atmosphere. Mike's wife sat at the old desk with a series of account books spread out in front of her. The densely packed numbers on the account books were like a group of monsters with bared fangs and claws, making her feel dizzy and terrified. Her brows were tightly knitted into the shape of a "chuan" character, and each wrinkle was filled with anxiety and anger, and her eyes revealed deep despair. Her fingers unconsciously slid across the account books, as if she wanted to find a glimmer of hope from these cold numbers, but the result was in vain.

Finally, she could no longer endure the torment in her heart, and slammed the account book shut with a loud snap. The sound was particularly loud in the quiet study, like a desperate cry. She stood up, and the chair made a harsh sound when it rubbed against the ground. She walked out of the study quickly and walked towards the noisy hall downstairs, with determination and anger in every step.

She came to the hall, and the chaotic and indulgent scene in front of her instantly made her anger burn to the peak. She walked straight through the crowd, and those drunken men unconsciously made way for her under her angry gaze, as if she exuded an awe-inspiring aura. She walked up to Mike, suppressed the anger that was about to burst out in her heart, and asked in an extremely stern tone: "How much do we owe?" Mike was immersed in his own crazy world at this time. He drank medicine and wine, and the whole person was floating in the clouds. When he saw his wife coming over, he showed an unruly and somewhat flattering smile on his face. He stretched out his hand and wanted to pull his wife into his arms, and said in an almost coquettish tone: "Come here, baby. Don't worry about those troubles, just have fun with me first. Let's enjoy tonight and talk about the money tomorrow."

His wife didn't buy it at all. Her face was gloomy, her eyes were full of disgust and disappointment. She pushed him away and her voice became a little louder because of anger. She almost yelled, "How much is it? I don't have time to mess around with you. I want to know how bad our situation is now! Don't try to fool me again. We need to make things clear today!"

Mike then realized that his wife was really angry, and she was more angry than ever before. He scratched his head and tried to find some sweet words to get away with it, but his wife's intimidating gaze made him feel guilty, and he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He laughed dryly twice, and the laughter sounded particularly hollow and hypocritical in the noisy hall. He said, "What's wrong with you? You're so angry. It's just a little money, don't take it to heart. We will definitely find a way to solve it, so don't worry about it."

"A little money? Don't try to fool me!" His wife interrupted him mercilessly, her voice trembling slightly with excitement, "Look at the people in this hall, all of them are living a life of drunkenness and debauchery. We are almost bankrupt, and you are still here enjoying yourself! Do you know that our lives are about to be ruined?"

Mike knew he couldn't hide it any longer, so he sighed helplessly, with a hint of helplessness and unwillingness to the reality in his tone, and said, "Eight million."

"Eight million?!" My wife's eyes widened, her eyes were full of shock and disbelief, her voice unconsciously rose eight degrees, almost breaking through the roof of the hall, "Do you know how much money this is? How come we owe so much? What on earth have you done? What have you been doing outside these years?"

Mike shrugged and said nonchalantly, "It's normal to have gains and losses in business. But don't worry, as long as we sell the virus weapons in our hands, we can pay back the money soon, and maybe even make a fortune. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and we will be able to turn things around soon."

"Are you so sure?" His wife looked at him suspiciously, her eyes full of distrust. "What if we can't sell it? What should we do? Can we still keep this house? This is the last foundation of our family."

Mike patted his chest and said confidently, "Don't worry, baby. As long as we marry Veronie, all debts can be paid off. In addition, there is a business with a net profit of 10 million. Good luck for our family is coming. This is our only way out and the best opportunity."

After hearing what he said, his wife's worries were slightly relieved, but she was still full of doubts. She patted Mike's face lightly, with both helplessness and a hint of expectation in her action, and said, "You should have told me. I have the right to know about this kind of important matter. We are husband and wife, and we must face these problems together. Don't hide it from me anymore."

"Didn't I just tell you? I love you so much." Mike rushed forward excitedly, hugged his wife's waist from behind, roared excitedly, and twisted her buttocks there. He looked so crazy as if he saw countless wealth waving to him.

At this time, his son Rorik, who was regarded as the product of the marriage, saw all this. He was filled with helplessness, irritability and anger. As the son of a gangster, he thought he could freely control his life and pursue his own love and ideals, but he didn't expect that he couldn't even decide which woman he liked, and even had to be sold like a commodity for the benefit of the family. This feeling of being bound and controlled made him suffocate, as if an invisible big hand was tightly strangling his throat.

He couldn't stay any longer, so he stood up and walked towards the door, his steps were hurried and heavy, and every step seemed to be breaking free from some invisible shackles. Mike saw that his son was in a bad mood and knew that he had been resisting this marriage, so he immediately shouted: "Hey, do you want to talk? We can discuss it, son, don't be impulsive."

Luo Ruike ignored him and walked straight outside without looking back. His resolute back seemed to declare his dissatisfaction and resistance to this family. His bodyguard, a man with long hair, followed him silently. The two of them left the lively hall one after the other. The silent figures formed a sharp contrast with the hustle and bustle in the hall.

Mike looked at the two people's backs as they left, a complicated expression on his face. There was confusion and worry in that expression, as if he had vaguely sensed something but couldn't put it into words.

Rorick and his bodyguards left the hall and turned into a small room.

It is no wonder that Luo Ruik has no interest in the beautiful daughter of the Verroy family. He has always rejected his parents' arrangements and is unwilling to sacrifice himself for the family.

Mike suddenly pushed the door open and walked in. (End of this chapter)