You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

Amir's roar echoed through the empty, dark cobblestone alley.

The police dispatch center on the other end of the walkie-talkie fell into an eerie silence that lasted for half a minute.

You could even hear the crisp sound of the operator's pen falling onto the table.

"Sheriff... are you sure that's a frying pan, and not some new type of miniature kinetic weapon?"

The operator's voice was dry, filled with intense disbelief.

Amir squatted in front of the pot with the deep crater it had been smashed into.

He reached out and touched the thick layer of black grime accumulated from years of deep-frying.

A pungent smell of burnt oil wafted from my fingertips.

He pinched his thigh hard, wincing in pain.

"It's a pot, the kind of old, worn-out pot you see everywhere in the bazaar streets, used for making flatbread!"

Amir stood up and looked at the three bodies of wanted criminals, their bones broken, being carried onto stretchers.

The back of the SWAT uniform was completely soaked with cold sweat.

It sticks stickily to the spine, and when a cool breeze blows, it raises a layer of goosebumps.

He dared not delve into the extent of the inhuman, terrifying power that the Chinese man unleashed when he swung that pot.

While Turkish police were still bewildered by this bizarre case of self-defense killing,

A short video that has been specially encrypted.

They appeared silently on the bounty hunter forum, deep within the international dark web.

There is no title, and no preface.

There was only a short surveillance video clip, less than ten seconds long.

The image quality is poor; it was clearly captured from a hidden camera on a street corner.

But for these top assassins and mercenaries who spend years living on the edge of death...

Those ten short seconds were tantamount to detonating a nuclear bomb with a capacity of ten million tons in their minds.

In the video.

The Chinese man in the black casual trench coat faced three military blades with blood grooves.

There was not a trace of panic in his movements as he tried to dodge.

He casually picked up an iron pot from the roadside.

He turned around, swung his arm, and slammed it down.

The movements were fluid and fast, leaving only a black afterimage.

There were no superfluous fighting techniques, and he didn't even move his feet an inch.

It's the purest, most primal aesthetic of violence that crushes everything.

"That power generation posture...that anticipation angle..."

In an underground bunker somewhere in North America, there lives a top mercenary known as "The Meat Grinder".

He stared intently at the surveillance footage on the screen, which had been slowed down tenfold.

The glass of strong liquor in his hand, worth tens of thousands of dollars, tilted without him even realizing it.

He was completely unaware that the wine had spilled onto the expensive Persian carpet.

"Impossible... This is absolutely impossible!"

He suddenly stood up, bracing himself on the computer desk with both hands, his eyes filled with alarming bloodshot veins.

"This is a deadly technique that precisely controls the force at the joints and bones."

"Only that monster who disappeared five years ago could have done that on the entire dark web!"

at the same time.

Europe, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia.

Countless master killers hidden in the shadows are analyzing this video frame by frame.

When they saw Chen Yuan sidestep the dagger and then swing the frying pan, they understood his movements.

After comparing the skeletal model of the movement trajectory of the codenamed "Abyss," which was listed as an absolute taboo in the dark web database,...

The degree of overlap is obtained.

Up to 99.9%.

"It's him...he's back!"

The chat room on the dark web forum instantly erupted in chaos.

Those arrogant outlaws who usually look down on everyone and defy all authority.

Right now, my fingers are trembling uncontrollably as I type on the keyboard.

"Smash the hardest bone in the human body, the skull, with a frying pan? Is that even human?"

"Those three idiots must be members of the 'Flying Gang,' right? They're usually so arrogant, but this time they were swatted like flies."

"I heard this big shot now lives in China and also works part-time as a cook and housekeeper?"

"Cooking? Have you ever seen a chef use a frying pan as a strategic weapon?!"

Fear and awe spread rapidly throughout the underground world like a contagious disease.

Those international organizations that originally accepted assassination orders from China or attempted to infiltrate Jianghai City to make money.

After seeing this video.

Without hesitation, I pressed the cancel button.

Even facing huge penalties for breach of contract, no one dares to take the risk.

The scene changes.

Above the stratosphere at 30,000 feet.

A streamlined, white Gulfstream private jet is flying smoothly eastward.

The cabin temperature was a constant 24 degrees Celsius, and the air was filled with a faint, calming chamomile aromatherapy scent.

Outside the porthole was a vast and boundless starry sky.

Chen Yuan was wearing a loose white cotton T-shirt and leaning back in the large, soft airline seat.

He was holding a specially made encrypted phone.

On the screen were the terrifying comments that were being frantically spammed on the dark web forum.

His deep black eyes remained completely undisturbed.

His slender fingers casually swiped across the screen twice.

Then, without hesitation, I pressed the power button.

The screen went completely black.

Those towering waves that were stirred up in the underground world.

The mercenaries worshipped him.

In his eyes, it wasn't even as important as a cloud that occasionally drifted by outside the cabin.

He turned his head to the side.

His gaze fell on the girl who was already fast asleep beside him.

Shen Wanzhou was covered with a thick cashmere blanket.

Her head rested on Chen Yuan's shoulder.

Perhaps it was due to the fright during the day and the subsequent rush.

She was sleeping soundly.

Long eyelashes cast a quiet shadow in the eye socket.

His lips were slightly parted, and he was breathing evenly and slowly.

Her left hand, adorned with an eighteen-carat pink diamond, was still unconsciously clutching Chen Yuan's clothes in her sleep.

His knuckles tightened slightly, revealing an unreserved dependence.

The coldness that once kept people at a distance in Chen Yuan's eyes instantly melted away.

It transformed into a pool of warm spring water.

He slightly adjusted his posture to make the girl's head more comfortable.

His large, well-defined hand gently covered the back of her hand that was clutching the hem of her clothes.

The warmth of the palm travels along the texture of the skin.

He lowered his head and touched the girl's smooth forehead.

A kiss as light as a feather landed on him.

"Go to sleep."

He murmured softly, his voice hoarse and mellow, filled with boundless indulgence.

"We're home."

On the ground.

The storm he unleashed with a casual strike continues to escalate.

And in an extremely exaggerated manner, it was forever recorded in the annals of the underworld.

On the forum ranking the top assassins on the dark web, a bold red warning was prominently displayed at the top: "When you go to China on a mission, don't mess with the cook with the frying pan!"