The whole nation: You're put to survive on a desolate planet, you'll be running an alien b

In the living room, Li Haotian picked up a potato chip and, holding it up to the light, admired with great interest the tomato-flavored powder evenly sprinkled on it.

"Click."

The crisp chewing sounds were particularly jarring in the deathly silent living room.

Su Wan and Liu Hu stood motionless, like two statues frozen in place, staring intently at Li Haotian. They were fixated on him, as if trying to see through him, looking at that tiny "worker bee" that had already infiltrated the dragon's den and was smaller than a mosquito.

Su Wan's heart was pounding, and the encrypted phone in her hand felt as hot as a branding iron.

Liu Hu felt that every breath he took carried the smell of rust.

This is not an assassination at all.

This is clearly a sci-fi horror movie with an explosive special effects budget, but the main character never shows their face.

"This tomato flavor isn't quite authentic."

Li Haotian closed his eyes and took another bite with a "crunch," giving a bad review like a picky gourmet.

His carefree attitude made Su Wan and Liu Hu even more nervous.

But deep within Li Haotian's consciousness, in the compound eyes of the [Alien Worker Bee], the world presents a completely different picture.

Inside the vault, the obese man, "The Butcher," stared intently at the virtual screen in front of him. On the screen, countless data points scrolled rapidly like a waterfall, each number representing a sum of black gold enough to drive an ordinary person mad.

"No...no!"

The butcher's breathing was heavy, like a broken bellows. His eyes, squeezed into slits by his fat, were filled with morbid greed and obsession.

"Today's turnover is 0.3% lower! Who took my money?!"

He roared nervously, completely unaware that a "bug" barely bigger than a speck of dust was silently landing on the heat sink of the top-of-the-line server in front of him.

"Only 3%?"

In the living room, Li Haotian clicked his tongue, his inner吐槽 (tu cao, a Chinese internet slang term for sarcastic or critical comments) precise and harsh.

"No wonder someone with no vision can only be an accountant their whole life."

In the world of consciousness, the mouthparts of the worker bee, a biological tissue even thinner than a nanoprobe, slowly extend out.

It precisely passed through the high-speed rotating cooling fan, bypassed the scorching hot CPU heatsink, and directly pierced into the rubber sheath of the densely packed data transmission cables on the back of the host.

No static electricity or pressure alarms were triggered during the entire process.

Like a single hair falling into the sea.

A system notification, visible only to Li Haotian, appeared on his retina.

[Information gathering has been initiated...]

[Analyzing the "Hellhound 3.7" version of the intranet firewall...]

[Backdoor program discovered, path: "For Whom the Bell Tolls 1888"...]

Analysis complete.

[Physical connection successful!]

boom--

A massive torrent of data, enough to crash any supercomputer, flooded into Li Haotian's mind in an instant.

All the shady dealings of the Purgatory Organization over the past decade, every dirty transaction, every murdered witness, every bribed politician... all the unspeakable secrets were now neatly categorized and arranged in his mind, like a well-organized library.

"Wow, quite a lot of content," Li Haotian remarked casually, like a tourist visiting a museum.

Empty the vault?

No.

That's too rough, and it would trigger the vault's weight sensor alarm.

Li Haotian chose a more sophisticated and even more perverse way of playing.

High-level business warfare only requires a little bit of magic.

His consciousness, like the hand of God, precisely located the butcher's most deeply hidden private backdoor among billions of lines of code—a corrupt algorithm that automatically intercepted the flow of funds.

Return transaction amount × 0.03;

A single line of code supported the butcher's extravagant and decadent lifestyle.

Li Haotian smiled.

He didn't even bother to change the "0.03".

He simply condensed his will into a virtual "decimal point," and then, on that line of code, gently moved it one place to the left.

Return transaction amount × 0.3;

The world changed drastically at that moment.

But Li Haotian felt that this was not enough.

"Since it's a gift for a new friend, shouldn't I at least sign it?"

He grinned and casually added a few seemingly random but highly purposeful strings to the butcher's almost perfect fake account notes.

Scorpion Rise 777

Bishops will die

Welcome the Empress

Simple, brutal, and full of provocation.

It's like leaving a note at a murder scene that says, "The murderer is Old Wang next door."

"Perfect."

After doing all this, Li Haotian was completely satisfied.

In the realm of consciousness, the worker bee's nanoscale mouthparts quietly retracted, leaving no molecular-level trace on the data lines.

It flapped its silent wings, like a falling ash, and silently took flight, finally landing in the cigar box made of rare sandalwood that the butcher had placed beside him.

It curled up, disguising itself as an inconspicuous, broken tobacco leaf.

Then, complete silence fell.

Task completed.

……

The living room of a villa in the sky.

Li Haotian slowly opened his eyes.

He crumpled the empty bag of potato chips into a ball and casually tossed it into the trash can.

"Bang."

The bag hit the target precisely.

"Hao...Haotian?"

Su Wan's voice was trembling as she looked at Li Haotian, her eyes filled with tension and anticipation.

"it's over?"

"No."

Li Haotian stood up from the sofa, stretched, and his bones cracked with a satisfying sound.

He walked to the window, looked at the night view outside, and wore a smile of triumph after his prank.

"The real show is just beginning."

……

Genesis Building, seven underground floors.

Inside the vault.

The butcher cursed and turned off the light screen. He spent half an hour but still couldn't find the missing 0.3%.

"Damn it, there must be a bug somewhere."

He decided to stop dwelling on it and prepare to enjoy his eighth midnight snack of the day.

But before leaving, driven by a deep-seated obsession, he habitually pulled up a summary of his personal earnings for the day.

He likes to look at that number.

That number made him feel like he was the master of this world.

He pressed the confirm button.

A line of numbers representing wealth appeared in the center of the light screen.

next second.

The butcher's impatience froze instantly.

His eyes, which were squeezed into slits by his fat, suddenly widened, and his eyeballs bulged violently from shock, almost falling out of their sockets!

He stared intently at that number.

He rubbed his eyes repeatedly, thinking he was hallucinating.

But that number remains clearly imprinted there, carrying a bloody mockery.

It wasn't the seven-figure sum he expected.

It was a terrifying nine-figure sum that... made his heart stop!

It was ten times more than he had expected!

Cold sweat instantly soaked through his expensive silk nightgown.

He wasn't happy.

He is fear!

This isn't a gain, it's a death sentence!

Within the organization, only one person had the authority to secretly siphon off such a large sum of money right under his nose!

bishop!

He's going to kill me! He's going to wipe me out!

This thought struck his mind like a bolt of lightning!

The butcher's body began to tremble violently, not from fear, but from the extreme anger and madness of being betrayed!

Like a mad bull, he pounced on the control panel and slammed his large hand hard on a top-level emergency button protected by a red glass cover!

"--alarm!!"

"--alarm!!"

The piercing alarm instantly shattered the silence of the vault and, through internal wiring, spread throughout the "Purgatory" organization's entire underground base in Donghai City!

"Traitor! The bishop is a traitor!"

The butcher roared into the communicator like a madman, spitting everywhere.

"He's falsifying the accounts! He's trying to drain the organization! I'm going to report him to the Elders' Council! I'm going to..."

His roar abruptly stopped.

Because he saw that on the light screen in front of him, in the newly altered account notes, those few lines of blood-red coded messages representing death sentences were slowly emerging.

"Welcome, Empress!"

The butcher's pupils instantly contracted to the size of pinpoints.

The madness and anger on his face were replaced by a deeper, more primal fear.

He is not a bishop.

is her……

It's that woman!

Poisonous scorpion!