Handong: Sha Li wants political achievements? I'll shut down the entire province.

The penthouse suite at the Waldorf Astoria was heated like an oven.

A strong, burnt smell, characteristic of high-concentration espresso, wafted from the carpet.

Mixed with the slightly sour smell of Su Jianxin's sweat, the smell made one's head throb.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, New York's freezing rain was still relentlessly battering the glass.

The rain poured down in continuous streams.

Su Jianxin had his tie askew, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

His ten fingers left afterimages as they slammed across the semi-transparent holographic virtual keyboard.

"Da da da da..."

The rapid knocking echoed in the empty living room, like a death knell.

His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep as he stared intently at the stream of green data on the screen.

My right index finger suddenly cramped up and jerked towards my palm.

If you type a wrong code, a large red warning light immediately pops up on the screen.

"Hiss—damn."

Su Jianxin gasped, shaking his aching wrist.

Quickly use your left hand to salvage the situation and forcefully bring the data back on track.

Yan Qingfeng sat on the custom-made ostrich leather sofa, his legs crossed.

He was toying with a pure silver cigar cutter in his hand.

The clippers clicked and scissors in the air.

He didn't look at Su Jianxin; his gaze was fixed on the dazzling crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

"Nobuko, can't you take a break?"

Zhou Yuan's large body was nestled in the single sofa next to him, holding a bowl of freshly made braised beef noodles.

He slurped up a big mouthful of noodles, splashing a few drops of soup onto his suit jacket.

"Let those old bastards on Wall Street dump their shares. The physical base stations to cut off the internet at Hua Linglong's location are already set up, why are you insisting on tracking them from the opposite direction?"

Su Jianxin ignored him.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he swallowed a mouthful of dry saliva.

"Master Yan."

He stopped what he was doing, took off his gold-rimmed glasses that were fogged up on his nose, and casually wiped them on his trousers.

"We've caught a big fish!"

Yan Qingfeng stopped pressing the cigar cutter.

The silver sheet gleamed coldly under the light.

"explain."

"When Wall Street dumped the shares just now, some funds didn't go through the usual brokerage channels."

Su Jianxin put his glasses back on and swiped his finger across the screen.

Draw up a complex tree diagram.

"Two hundred million US dollars of hot money were laundered in seven offshore shell companies in the Cayman Islands."

His voice was a little hoarse, so he coughed twice to clear it.

"In the end, it all went into the private accounts of a few lobbying politicians on K Street in Washington."

Zhou Yuan was stunned, holding the bowl of instant noodles.

With half a noodle still hanging in his mouth, he quickly chewed and swallowed it.

"Lobbying groups? What do these politicians do with the money?"

"Senate Bill"

Su Jianxin zoomed in on the screen, which was filled with densely packed draft clauses in English.

"They are preparing to push through a bill targeting the Lingxiao Foundation's technology blockade and asset freeze in Congress first thing tomorrow morning."

Su Jianxin sneered, and when he twitched his lips, they were chapped and bled a little.

"Once approved, the U.S. military will have a legal pretext to directly take over our battery foundry in Texas."

"Damn it, this is blatant robbery!"

Zhou Yuan slammed the bowl of noodles heavily onto the coffee table.

The hot soup spilled out, scalding him so much that he quickly pulled his hand away.

He wiped the hot soup on his trouser leg and muttered, "These bunch of idiots, do they really think we peasants from Handong are easy to bully?"

Yan Qingfeng shifted into a more comfortable position and leaned back on the sofa.

He casually picked up the ice water on the coffee table and took a sip to quell the heat in his throat.

"Who is the source of the funds?" he asked in a very calm tone.

He didn't even twitch his eyebrows.

It's as casual as asking what to order for takeout tonight.

Su Jianxin interlaced his fingers, and the veins on the back of his hands stood out.

"The source of this money has been traced back to a family trust held by the Zhao family in a Swiss bank."

He paused, gritting his teeth.

"The person operating the account is Zhao Ruilong's second sister, Zhao Xiaohui."

The room was silent for two seconds.

The only sounds were the rain outside the window and Zhou Yuan's heavy breathing.

Yan Qingfeng suddenly felt a bit bored.

He tossed the cigar cutter onto the coffee table with a sharp crack.

"The Zhao family."

He chewed on those two words, his eyes revealing a kind of disgust at looking at garbage.

"My father retired, my younger brother went to Qincheng Prison to live on cabbages, and I ran away to Los Angeles like a stray dog."

Yan Qingfeng stroked his chin.

"They actually have two hundred million US dollars hidden away to buy off lawsuits, trying to use American rules to destroy me?"

He had originally thought that those old money families on Wall Street, who had lived for over a hundred years, would come up with some novel business warfare tactics.

After all that effort...

It's still the old-fashioned remnants of the Zhao family stirring things up.

"Mr. Yan, how about I use my connections at the State Administration of Foreign Exchange to freeze all the remaining unfinished buildings under Zhao Xiaohui's name in China?"

Su Jianxin tentatively asked a question.

Yan Qingfeng didn't respond.

He raised his hand and pressed his thumb against the tiny black communicator in his left ear.

"Zhou Yuan, activate the holographic system. Connect to Dezhou."

Zhou Yuan quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped his mouth haphazardly.

Take out the tablet and press the switch.

The air in the middle of the suite distorted once again.

A flash of eerie blue light appeared, and the holographic image unfolded.

The scene depicts a dimly lit underground warehouse.

As soon as the call connected, a strong smell of gun oil and pungent gunpowder smoke seemed to penetrate the nose even through the screen.

The warehouse was as hot as a steamer.

Several shirtless, burly men were gathered around a tin table, wiping their shiny black assault rifles with rags.

Someone was chewing betel nut and spitting out a mouthful of red liquid into a plastic bucket.

A man wearing a black tactical vest sat on the ammunition box in the very center.

Lu Yuan was holding a bright yellow 5.56mm bullet in his hand.

His thumb was covered in black gun oil.

Slippery.

A "click" sound.

He forcefully pushed the bullet into the magazine, the metal spring being squeezed, producing a grinding sound that made one's teeth ache.

When I was firing the tenth shot, the bullet veered slightly and got stuck on the edge.

Lu Yuan frowned.

With a forceful thrust of his thumb, his fingernail accidentally scraped against the sharp metal edge, chipping off a small layer of white skin.

He put his finger in his mouth, sucked on it, and spat out some blood.

Only then did he raise his head and look at the projection of Yan Qingfeng floating in mid-air.

"Boss."

Lu Yuan's voice was hoarse, with a rough quality honed by the wind and sand of Texas.

"Work at this hour?"

Looking at his rough appearance, Yan Qingfeng casually took off his suit jacket and threw it on the sofa armrest.

"The Zhao family believes that American law can protect them."

Yan Qingfeng's voice wasn't loud, but every word sounded like it was laced with ice.

"Lu Yuan, teach them who sets the rules on this planet now."

Lu Yuan grinned.

His large hands, covered in gun oil, casually wiped them a couple of times on his tactical pants.

"Understood. Does the boss want a dead person or a living person?"

He picked up the rifle that had been wiped clean beside him and skillfully inspected the ejection port.

"I don't want people, I find them dirty."

Yan Qingfeng stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the traffic below, which resembled ants.

"Don't they like playing with trust funds? Bring along the quantum hacking device."

He paused for a moment, a fierce glint appearing in his eyes.

"Use your legitimate security shell to do bloody things. Before dawn, every penny of cash and every property the Zhao family owns overseas..."

Yan Qingfeng turned around and stared intently at Lu Yuan through the holographic screen.

"I want to see them all washed clean and brought into Lingxiao's tent."

Lu Yuan grabbed the magazine full of bullets with one hand.

A "click" sound.

A crisp metallic clang rang out in the warehouse as the magazine slammed into the gun barrel.

He flicked the safety pin with his thumb, a chilling smile spreading across his face.

What if Zhao Xiaohui refuses to give him the password?

"They chop off your fingers to take your fingerprints, and gouge out your eyeballs to scan your irises."

Yan Qingfeng spoke in a calm tone, as if he were talking about how to cut a watermelon.

"Do I need to teach you?"

Lu Yuan slung the gun barrel over his shoulder and yelled at the burly men behind him.

"Stop fucking wiping! Grab your weapons!"

He turned his head and stared straight at the camera.

"Blood will be drawn in half an hour. The entire 'Dark Sword' mercenary company, legally operating overseas, is assembled. Boss, we're just waiting for you to hear the signal."