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

Yan Qingfeng pushed open the heavy, soundproof wooden door to the chairman's office.

The cold wind in the corridor, carrying the dry, industrial smell from the ventilation ducts, rushed in instantly.

The wind caused the hem of his pure black haute couture trench coat to flutter wildly.

He didn't turn around, casually tossing out a cold, impersonal command.

"Notify Lu Yuan to turn the fleet around and go knock on the doors of the old money families in Europe."

Yan Qingfeng strode towards the private elevator.

The handmade leather shoes made a dull "clatter" sound when stepped on the long-haired wool carpet.

To Su Jianxin, this commotion was no less than a countdown to the execution of those century-old wealthy families.

It exudes a bloodless brutality.

The scene changes.

Two o'clock in the morning.

In a heavily guarded courtyard house in the Western Hills of Beijing.

The old locust tree in the yard rustled loudly in the autumn wind.

Withered yellow leaves, carrying sand and gravel, slammed against the blue brick floor, making a harsh scraping sound.

The doors and windows of the confidential conference room were tightly shut by the guards, not even a crack was left.

The main lights were not on inside, and the light was dim and yellowish.

The air was so polluted it could suffocate a living person.

The smell of cheap cigarette oil, the sour smell of sweat, and the astringent taste of several cups of strong, stale tea on the table.

Everything was mixed together, sticky and caked on people's faces.

The stench made my eyes water and my throat so dry that swallowing saliva felt like swallowing shards of glass.

In the center of the conference table lay a thin, urgent briefing from the military intelligence agency.

These A4 pages have just come out of the secure printer.

The edge was still warm from the heat, carrying a slightly pungent smell of hot ink.

The paper contained a detailed record of the one-sided massacre that had just occurred in Country T.

There was no artillery fire, no soldiers bleeding.

Only a few thousand unremarkable tin cans were thrown into the high seas.

Subsequently, the national power grid of Country T collapsed instantly, and bank data was wiped clean.

The overweight president, weighing over 200 pounds, knelt in front of the holographic screen, weeping bitterly as he handed over the country's largest lithium mine.

The fat old man sitting on the right grabbed those few pages of paper.

His hands were shaking so badly that he looked like someone who had a seizure, and the edges of the paper were creased from being squeezed so tightly.

"This...this is something a commercial company would do!"

The fat old man's Adam's apple scraped violently, his voice split in two, like a piece of broken wood being sawed.

"Three civilian cargo ships! They're all equipped with miniature electromagnetic pulse (EMP) emission arrays!"

The undigested dinner in his stomach churned and poured back down his esophagus.

The sour, rotten stomach acid burned his chest like fire.

The fat old man suddenly bent over, gagged, and his mouth was filled with the bitter taste of bile.

The thin, old man next to him, wearing a traditional Chinese jacket, reached out to pick up the cup of cold Longjing tea.

Calm down.

But his fingers were spasming uncontrollably.

A fingernail accidentally tapped against the wall of a porcelain cup, making a crisp "click" sound.

"That's a small country protected by Wall Street! Are we just going to let them strip down to their underwear like that?"

The gaunt old man's spine was covered in cold sweat.

Sweat soaked through the cotton vest underneath, which was then aggravated by the cold air in the room.

His legs were so cold that they cramped uncontrollably, and he was shivering inside his trousers.

"Those bloodsuckers on Wall Street! Aren't they usually the most protective of their own?"

The fat old man slammed the briefing onto the solid wood table with a dull thud.

"They just stood by and watched as Country T's power was cut off, and didn't even utter a sound?"

"Protect my ass!"

The gaunt old man's eyes turned completely red, and he roared back furiously.

"The intelligence report makes it crystal clear! Lingxiao's Quantum Fund is aggressively shorting stocks in New York!"

He was spitting as he spoke, "The Wall Street market has completely collapsed! Those Americans are almost bankrupt, who has time to care about the fate of those tropical monkeys!"

The meeting room fell into a deathly silence.

All that could be heard were the heavy, disordered breathing of a few people, like a broken bellows.

This is not how you do business.

This is a hundred times more terrifying than the deterrent effect of the US sending an aircraft carrier strike group!

Yan Qingfeng operates under the guise of a legitimate security company.

They're carrying out a devastating attack that even international law can't punish!

Old Xu, who was sitting in the main seat, remained silent the whole time.

He stared intently at the bold black text on the briefing that read "absolute control for fifty years".

The fear in his eyes grew wildly like poisonous weeds.

His withered chest heaved violently.

Each breath was accompanied by a piercing sawing sound.

It felt as if even the thick, sticky air around us was being sucked away.

Old Xu suddenly felt a piercing, stabbing pain in his heart.

It felt like being gripped tightly by a large, calloused, rough, and powerful hand.

It was gripped so tightly that not even a tiny bit of fresh blood could be squeezed out.

Shock and fear caused his brain to lose blood supply instantly.

Suddenly, a dense array of black flowers exploded before my eyes.

My retina was filled with random, scattering golden stars.

A sharp, high-frequency tinnitus rang in my ears.

A long "hum" completely drowned out the noisy gasps of the old men in the room.

Old Xu opened his dry, cracked lips, as if he wanted to say something.

But his tongue was swollen as if it were stuffed with coarse sand.

His upper and lower teeth chattered together, and he couldn't utter a single word.

"Old Xu! Old Xu, something's wrong with your complexion!"

The fat old man finally noticed the unusual thing about the main seat and panicked.

He scrambled up from the chair, the chair legs dragging on the carpet with a screeching sound.

"Quick! Who has the medicine?! Get the medicine now!"

Old Xu's right hand trembled, like a withered chicken claw.

He fumbled around in the pocket of his Zhongshan suit.

He tore the fabric of the clothes out of shape.

After much effort, they finally pulled out a small white plastic medicine bottle.

His thumb was covered in sticky, cold sweat, making it too slippery to use.

I tried to twist the cap twice, but it slipped completely.

In his haste, his fingernails dug deep into the flesh of his palm, leaving several pale, bloody marks.

"Clatter".

Because my hands were shaking so badly, the small plastic medicine bottle slipped from my hand.

The bottle hit the mahogany table and bounced.

It fell onto the hard floor, making a "rolling" sound.

It rolled all the way to the dark shadows in the corner.

The commotion startled everyone inside.

For a moment, no one dared to bend down and pick up the bottle of life-saving medicine.

Old Xu ignored the bottle of nitroglycerin pills.

He gripped the edge of the table tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning a horrifyingly pale white.

Her fingernails dug into the wood grain as she struggled to steady her swaying body.

He dejectedly raised his head, which was covered in white hair.

Half of his face was hidden in the murky darkness of the room.

His lifeless, empty gaze stared blankly at the glaring incandescent light on the ceiling.

The light dazzled him, causing a few cloudy, physiological tears to well up in the corners of his eyes.

It slid down her age-spotted cheeks and down her neck.

The room was as quiet as a lifeless morgue.

Old Xu's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

He swallowed a mouthful of salty, rusty saliva, and the burning stomach acid made him feel nauseous.

A dry, rattling sound, like the clashing of broken gongs, was squeezed out of his throat.

Every word exuded a sense of utter resignation and despair.

"Without firing a single shot, cripple a sovereign nation in five minutes..."

Old Xu closed his eyes, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably, and two streams of tears slid down his cheeks.

"This monster in Handong can no longer be contained by official documents."