My Ares Son-in-Law

"Crack! Bang!!"

The sound was like a demon roaring wildly on earth, or like the death knell being tolled fiercely at the end of the world.

The heavy door, seemingly bearing the weight of countless sins and conspiracies, slammed down with a resolute and frenzied force into the center of the incredibly sturdy mahogany conference table.

This mahogany conference table is no ordinary object.

Its deep and gorgeous color reveals its expensive price; its exquisite and delicate texture seems to tell the story of countless transactions of power and interests in the past.

It has always been the heart of this conference room, a witness to the infighting and deception among various forces.

However, at this moment, faced with this sudden and enormous impact, it was like a fragile building block, powerless to resist, and was smashed in half.

The crackling sounds of breaking wood were incessant, and wood chips flew everywhere like snowflakes, each one carrying anger and resentment.

The important documents scattered on the table, like kites with broken strings, were swept up by the gust of air and flew everywhere, the papers tumbling wildly in the air as if struggling in despair.

And those expensive coffee cups, their delicate bodies shattered instantly, the brown coffee liquid spilling onto the ground like blood, mixing with wood chips and documents, creating a chaotic and tragic scene.

The deafening crash echoed through the soundproofed conference room, the sound sharp and piercing, making one's eardrums ache, as if sharp knives were cutting into one's ears.

The two Black Phoenix Supervisors, who had been meditating with their eyes closed and remaining motionless like stone statues, suddenly opened their eyes like ancient beasts awakened from a dream.

The withered old man's eyes, which had been tightly closed, now emitted a cold, sinister light, like the forked tongue of a venomous snake.

The eerie light flickered in the dimly lit conference room, as if concealing countless deadly conspiracies and ruthless schemes, sending chills down one's spine.

The red-faced old man erupted with a raging, murderous intent like lava. His eyes were bloodshot, as if burning with raging fire, and the aura of anger emanated from every pore of his body, making the surrounding air seem to be ignited.

Two terrifying auras, enough to freeze the air, instantly spread out, like two invisible cold currents, sweeping through the entire conference room and making everyone present feel the threat of death.

"Why don't they cherish their own Chinese bloodline and instead kneel down to lick the boots of their foreign masters?"

A cold, clear voice, filled with biting sarcasm and boundless killing intent, howled in from the dusty doorway like an Arctic wind, instantly engulfing the conference room that had fallen into dead silence due to the dramatic change.

The voice seemed to come from the depths of hell; each word was like a sharp ice blade, piercing straight into one's heart and sending chills down one's spine.

Still reeling from the shock, Di Lang, who was basking in the joy of about reaching a deal with Cole, was now pale as a sheet from the sudden turn of events.

His body trembled uncontrollably, his eyes filled with fear and confusion, like a lamb lost in the darkness. Cole's smile froze on his face; that once fake and radiant smile was now distorted beyond recognition, like a torn mask.

A flicker of panic and astonishment crossed his eyes, as if he couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes.

The Black Hawk Society warriors, their expressions wary, gripped their weapons tightly, crouched slightly, and assumed a fighting stance. Their eyes were filled with vigilance and hostility, like a pack of hungry wolves staring at the unknown danger.

The Black Phoenix military supervisors, their killing intent boiling, slowly stood up, their bodies ramrod straight, like two sharp swords about to be drawn, exuding a chilling aura.

All eyes turned in unison, filled with disbelief and horror, toward the dust-filled doorway.

They were all wondering who had the audacity to break into this dangerous and conspiratorial place at this time, and what their purpose and power were to create such a shocking scene.

The dusty entrance seemed to conceal a huge mystery, drawing everyone's attention and making their hearts race and their breathing quicken.

As time slowly passed, the smoke and dust that filled the air seemed to be gently brushed away by an invisible hand, and began to settle down little by little.

In this gradually clearing vision, a tall and upright figure slowly took shape, like a mysterious messenger emerging from chaos.

The figure was dressed in a black cloth robe, the black as deep as night, without a trace of impurity, making it stand out in this chaotic and violent scene.

Strangely, despite the fierce impact of the forced entry, the cloth garment remained spotless, as if protected by an invisible shield.

The clothes were tailored to fit perfectly, with every line just right. They were cold, hard, and straight, extending along the young man's strong and upright body, outlining his perfect figure. He looked like a meticulously crafted work of art, exuding a cold and aloof temperament that kept people at a distance.

The young man walked forward with a calm and unhurried pace, one hand casually in his trouser pocket. His posture was elegant and natural, as if this were not a meeting room full of danger and tension, but a leisurely afternoon garden.

His other hand held a hard-shell folder steadily. The folder was flat and clean, which contrasted sharply with the mess left by the violent destruction around him, making it seem out of place.

His demeanor was eerily calm, his face expressionless, his eyes deep and serene, like a still lake without a ripple. It was as if he wasn't the one who had just broken in, but rather someone who had come to attend an ordinary business meeting. This contrast made everyone present feel a strange sense of oppression and unease.

Di Lang was already in shock, and when he saw this suddenly appearing figure, his pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpoints, as if he had seen the most terrifying thing in the world.

His heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an icy hand; the pain and suffocation made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

His gaze was fixed on the young man's face. This face... this young, handsome face, yet with a deep-seated indifference, why did it look so familiar?
That familiar silhouette, that cold gaze, was like a key that unlocked a long-sealed door deep in his memory.

A name, buried for five years and almost deliberately forgotten, suddenly surged onto his tongue like a ghost. It was a name he had heard countless times in his nightmares, a name that had once filled him with fear and awe—"Xiao Chen?!" (End of Chapter)