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

The heavy canvas money box slammed onto the rusty iron barrel with a dull thud.

The bright green US dollars smelled of ink mixed with the musty smell of the basement.

The scarred man's rough hand covered the lid of the money box.

There were still dried bloodstains under the fingernails that hadn't been washed off.

He didn't look at the few trembling, once high-and-mighty remnants of the chaebols opposite him.

He ran his fingertips along the edge of the thick US dollar bill a couple of times.

"A deposit of 20 million, and another 80 million after the deal is done."

The scarred man's voice sounded like coarse sandpaper scraping against glass.

He folded and put away the butterfly knife coated with blue poison, slipping it into the hidden pocket of his black tactical pants.

"It's just a woman's car."

He picked up the heavy money box and turned to walk towards the iron door to the basement.

"Wait for my good news. I guarantee I'll blow that woman and her car to smithereens."

The dilapidated iron gate opened and closed, blocking the venomous and crazed gazes from inside the room.

Dark as ink.

The Manhattan Star Hotel, VIP exclusive parking area on the fourth basement level.

The air temperature here remains at 22 degrees Celsius year-round, and the air conditioner emits a low white noise.

The epoxy resin floor was as smooth as a black mirror, reflecting the cool white LED light strip above.

Four ghostly black figures slid in silently, clinging to the blind spot of the load-bearing pillar.

The scarred man made a tactical gesture to halt.

The three mercenaries behind him, who had received top-notch special forces training, immediately crouched down and disappeared into the shadows.

They evaded the outer infrared thermal imaging and even fooled the vital signs detector.

This level of infiltration is enough to serve as a textbook example in the international mercenary community.

The scarred man's gaze swept past the two rows of limited-edition supercars.

They accurately located the black bulletproof Knight XV parked in the most central parking spot.

That was the private car of Shen Wanzhou, the richest woman in Star Venture Capital, in New York.

He pulled out a black metal block, no bigger than a coin, from a lining of his tactical vest.

The latest military-grade miniature C4 explosive, plus a bone conduction listening module.

Simply attach it near the fuel line wiring on the chassis.

At the moment of the explosion, the bulletproof vehicle, which was said to be able to withstand rocket launchers, would completely disintegrate from the inside.

The scarred man licked his dry lips and hunched over.

The leather boots made no extra sound as they stepped on the ground.

He approached the SUV, which resembled a steel beast, step by step.

three meters.

Two meters.

one meter.

Just as he knelt down on one knee, preparing to press the death device in his hand against the undercarriage protection panel...

A drop of condensation fell from the pipe overhead.

"Clatter."

The soft sound of water droplets hitting the ground echoed through the empty garage.

Accompanied by the sound of a water droplet.

A cool, soapy scent, typical of high-end laundry detergent, abruptly cut off the strong smell of engine oil in the garage.

The scarred man's movement was abruptly halted in mid-air.

In that instant, every hair on my body stood on end.

His dangerous instincts, honed over years of exposure to gunfire, frantically sounded the death alarm.

someone!

Behind him!

The distance was less than half a meter!

He didn't even hear any footsteps, nor did he notice anything unusual about the airflow.

It was as if a death god, without breath, had torn through space and stood behind him.

The scarred man didn't turn around; he was holding a bomb in his right hand.

His left hand shot out like lightning to his waist, ready to draw the poisoned military dagger.

"Click."

A sharp, teeth-grinding crack.

The scarred man's left hand had just touched the cold hilt of the knife.

A large, well-defined hand, with a slightly cool body temperature, gently rested on his left shoulder.

There were no unnecessary movements.

He suddenly clenched his five fingers and pressed down hard.

The terrifying, devastating force pierced through his shoulder blade from that palm.

"Glala—"

The scarred man's proudly hard bones were like fragile dry branches in the face of this force.

It shattered into pieces.

"Hmm!"

A piercing scream had just reached his throat.

A foot wearing a leather shoe had already mercilessly stepped on the back of his neck.

He forcefully stomped the scream that was about to escape his lips back into his stomach.

His face slammed heavily onto the epoxy resin floor.

The sharp pain of a broken nasal bone shot straight to my head, and warm blood gushed out instantly, smearing my face.

The three mercenaries hiding behind the supporting pillars witnessed this scene.

The pupils suddenly contracted.

They didn't even see how the man in the white shirt appeared!

"Fire! Attach the silencer!"

The deputy roared in hoarse English.

Three Glock pistols equipped with silencers were raised simultaneously from the shadows.

Chen Yuan stood beside the off-road vehicle.

Today he wore a pure white haute couture cotton shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his forearms.

One button on the collar was undone, giving off a relaxed and carefree vibe.

He didn't look at the scarred man he was stepping on.

He raised his dark eyes and coldly swept them over the three mercenaries who were holding guns.

He did not draw his gun.

Chen Yuan shifted his body slightly to the side.

The moment the three bullets left the barrel, he seemed to have predicted their trajectories.

The white shirt cast a blurry shadow in the air.

Three armor-piercing rounds grazed the hem of his clothes and embedded themselves in the concrete wall behind him.

Not even a single fiber on his clothes was damaged.

next second.

Chen Yuan had already crossed the five-meter distance.

He appeared before his deputy.

The second-in-command's finger was still on the trigger, his eyes filled with a ghostly horror.

Chen Yuan did not give him a chance to fire a second shot.

With his right hand forming a knife, he precisely cut into the throat cartilage of his assistant.

"Click!"

The throat bone was fractured.

The deputy's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed limply to the ground without making a sound.

The remaining two mercenaries panicked completely.

They dropped their pistols, drew their military knives, and pounced on Chen Yuan from the left and right.

Chen Yuan didn't even glance at them.

His left leg was like a black steel whip, whistling as it tore through the air.

It swept out.

boom!

The leather shoe struck the mercenary on the left hard in the ribs.

Seven or eight ribs broke simultaneously, and the chest cavity collapsed instantly.

The man flew out like a tattered sack, crashing into a load-bearing pillar; his fate is unknown.

The mercenary on the right, gripping a military knife, was already close to Chen Yuan's back.

Chen Yuan did not turn around.

He reached out with his right hand and grabbed the mercenary's wrist holding the knife.

Gently press your thumb on the other person's wrist joint.

The mercenary felt the nerves in his entire arm go numb instantly.

His fingers loosened weakly, and the military knife fell to the ground.

Chen Yuan flipped his wrist.

Click!

He twisted that thick arm in the opposite direction into a bizarre braid shape.

The mercenary's face contorted in pain, and he opened his mouth wide, trying to scream.

Chen Yuan struck him on the back of the neck with a palm strike.

The sound was completely cut off, and his body went limp on the ground.

three seconds.

Just three seconds.

Three top assassins ranked among the best in the international mercenary world.

In front of this man in the white shirt, they didn't even have the right to fight back.

The physical martial arts, which had been utterly destroyed, were reduced to a pile of mangled flesh.

The garage fell silent once more.

The only sound was the faint hum of the exhaust fan.

Chen Yuan walked to the bulletproof SUV.

He looked down at the pristine white cuffs of his shirt.

There wasn't a single drop of blood on it, nor were there any wrinkles.

Wanzhou personally picked out these clothes for him before he left home.

If it gets dirty, that little woman might not say anything, but her eyes will definitely well up with tears.

He couldn't bear to part with it.

Chen Yuan turned around and strode away.

The leather shoes made a steady, powerful clattering sound as they stepped on the smooth floor.

He walked up to the scarred man who had been taken down first.

The scarred man's face was half-submerged in his own blood.

The excruciating pain from the shattered scapula caused his body to convulse uncontrollably.

His intact right hand was still tightly gripping the miniature bomb.

His thumb trembled as he reached for the detonator switch on the bomb.

Just press this key.

Everything within a ten-meter radius will turn to ashes.

He wanted to drag this terrifying demon down with him!

Chen Yuan looked down at him.

The temperature in the retina dropped to absolute zero.

There was no mockery, only indifference as if looking at a lifeless object.

He lifted his right foot.

The handcrafted leather soles ruthlessly stomped on the scarred man's wrist, the one holding the bomb.

There was no hard stomp.

Instead, it slowly, with an irresistible and terrifying force, crushes downwards little by little.

"Click...creak..."

The wrist bones, under the heavy pressure of the leather shoes, emitted a teeth-grinding, cracking sound.

The bones were crushed inch by inch and embedded in the flesh.

The scarred man opened his mouth, making a hissing sound as air leaked out.

The eyeballs were in so much unbearable pain that they almost popped out of their sockets.

The five fingers gripping the bomb loosened helplessly because the nerves had been completely severed.

The tiny black C4 chip rolled down from his fingertip into the blood on the ground.

"You... what kind of monster are you...?"

The scarred man squeezed out those words through clenched teeth in a hoarse, cracked voice.

He had been on the dark web for over a decade and had never seen anyone who had honed their killing skills to such a high level.

No need for firearms, no need for teamwork.

Alone, in three seconds.

They crushed their entire squad.

Chen Yuan did not answer him.

A large, well-defined hand pulled a pure white disinfectant wipe from his trouser pocket.

He slowly and deliberately wiped the few fingers that had just touched the mercenary's wrist.

It was wiped very carefully.

It felt as if the air itself was filled with bacteria that made him nauseous.

"Trying to load this pile of junk into Wan Zhou's car?"

Chen Yuan crumpled the wet wipe he had used to dry his hands into a ball and casually threw it at the scarred man's face.

It covered those terrified eyes.

His voice was deep and resonant, carrying an undisguised air of ruthlessness and violence.

Chen Yuan pressed down again, stepping on the mercenary leader's wrist, the one holding the bomb, his eyes fixed on a pile of rotting flesh: "Tell me, who sent you?"