Marvel: Starting with the Glint-Glint Fruit.

"It seems we can save ourselves a lot of trouble."

The newcomer was none other than Matthew. Hearing the woman's words put him in a good mood, but Clement was completely the opposite. His face was filled with fear and anger: "Who are you? Do you know what you're doing?"

"Otherwise, what do you think we're doing?"

Matthew asked a question in return, then casually placed his coffee cup on the desk. He extended a finger, and a dazzling golden cross of light shone from the tip. Those who were facing Clement up close at this moment could feel an incredible and immense energy emanating from it.

Instinct told him that when that energy was released, he would die, and die a gruesome death.

The fear of death nearly overwhelmed Clement's reason. His body trembled, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his lips turned purple with extreme terror as he stammered, "Let...let me go. You've already gotten what you wanted."

"No, not entirely. Where are the girls who were imprisoned?"

"I...I can't say." Despite his extreme fear, Clement gritted his teeth and prepared to fight to the death.

"You have a very warm family, a virtuous wife, a son with excellent grades, and a young daughter. If you think the people behind you will destroy your family, then why do you think we won't, Clement?" the woman looking at the computer said coldly.

"No, you can't do that, they are innocent."

Clement broke down. He was only planning to fight to the death because he was afraid his family would suffer, but he didn't expect this woman to point out this and use his family as a threat.

"How many years have you held this position? How many auctions have you participated in? How many girls, how many families have been broken up because of it? Why are those who enjoy the blood-stained money you've earned innocent?"

They are very professional in their work.

Nigley, who has been in this industry for many years, has a wide network of connections.

For example, in this case, through torture, nearly a billion dollars of assets obtained from those billionaires were transferred and subsequently laundered.

In 2006, one billion dollars was already an astronomical figure.

These are all cash flows. As for the real estate and other fixed assets of the wealthy, Matthew didn't touch them.

These fixed assets are too troublesome to handle and are easy to trace.

"This money has been transferred to more than 30 hidden overseas accounts and then further distributed through subsequent transfers. The money laundering process may take more than a year."

"If you need it urgently, I can help you launder 100 million within two months."

"Those girls were also sent away by our people through other channels."

During the conversation, Matthew stood up from the luxurious sofa, took out a bottle of expensive whiskey from the liquor cabinet, poured it into two thick-bottomed glasses, handed one to Negri, clinked glasses with her, took a sip, smacked his lips, and thought it was just so-so.

"continue."

Matthew gestured, and Negri took a sip of whiskey, nodded, and smiled, saying, "These girls come from other sources, as well as local ones, from a small, low-level gang."

"I investigated that gang. They speak Albanian and are from Zoppaga. That place is a den of scum. Even Russian gangs keep their distance from this trash. The boss is called Marco Hoxha. This gang specializes in trafficking women."

"The usual trick is to offer women from emerging Eastern European countries to work as maids and nannies in the West to countries such as Yugoslavia, Romania, and Bulgaria. Once they are smuggled over, they sell virgins at high prices, and force non-virgins to become addicted to drugs and become prostitutes. Later, they found that it was more economical to directly kidnap girls who were traveling."

"Looks like we're not done yet tonight," Matthew said, his voice icy.

Negri shrugged. She knew it, and at the same time, she grew to appreciate the boy with the strange powers in front of her even more. She liked the boy's personality.

"Yeah~ So, BOSS, when are we setting off?"

"Now."

In the slums of Paris, the streets are dimly lit, with few and dim streetlights that barely illuminate the path.

In many places, there are no streetlights, and people can only rely on faint light from afar to find their way. The streets are narrow and winding, with dilapidated houses on both sides. The walls are covered with cracks and graffiti, and the traces of time are clearly visible.

Various sounds came from the streets and alleys: children playing, adults arguing, homeless people whispering, and police sirens in the distance.

Inside one of the old buildings, Marco Hoxha was in the second-floor living room, looking at a dozen girls with fear and dread on their faces, and a cruel smile appeared on his face.

He snapped his fingers, ordering his men to take the girls to a room, where they would be injected with drugs and controlled using the old methods.

Amidst the girls' terrified cries and tugging, a blinding golden light suddenly burst forth in the living room.

Everyone instinctively closed their eyes and covered their faces with their hands.

Immediately afterwards, a strange whooshing sound came from the air.

Whoosh!!