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

A muffled thud still echoed in the cold corridor.

Sticky blood was oozing from the bloody hole on Cai Chenggong's forehead.

Dark red blood vessels trickled down his brow bone.

The urine seeped into the cement floor, which was full of mud and grime, and emitted a strong, pungent, metallic stench.

He lay sprawled on the ground, stiff as a dead mangy dog.

The half-smoked cigarette in Xiao Liu's hand was extinguished with a "sizzle" in the sewage ditch.

Old Li's words, "Nobody cares about the fate of unregistered residents from the previous dynasty," drifted out through the rusty iron window.

My gaze suddenly rose higher, meeting the blinding sunlight.

Piercing through the leaden-gray clouds, I looked down at the completely reshaped cyber empire beneath my feet.

The situation in Handong Province has long since changed.

The once imposing provincial party committee compound is now as silent as a giant morgue.

Thick, mutated ivy grew wildly along the red brick wall, tightly binding the rusty iron gate.

The water and electricity inside had long been cut off by Yunxiao AI, and the weeds were taller than a person, so you couldn't even see a ghost.

"Buzz—"

A completely black logistics drone hovered outside a second-floor window, whipped up by strong winds.

The hatch popped open.

A brown paper bag printed with "Lingxiao Special Supply" landed with a "thud" on the dusty desk.

The rustling sound of dry paper rubbing together was particularly jarring in the empty room.

Sha Ruijin emerged from the dark corner like a wandering ghost.

He was wearing an old, sour, and smelly military overcoat, and his two old, calloused legs were trembling uncontrollably.

The thigh muscles are spasming and aching due to long-term malnutrition.

With trembling, withered hands, he tore open the brown paper bag.

Inside was a box of plain white rice without any side dishes, though the grains were translucent.

These are the three meals a day that the foundation provides to him.

Sha Ruijin's Adam's apple bobbed up and down twice with difficulty.

He swallowed a mouthful of bitter saliva, and a wave of protesting, agonizing pain erupted in his stomach.

He grabbed a handful of rice and stuffed it into his mouth, barely having the strength to chew.

"Secretary Sha, the food has arrived. Eat it while it's hot."

A smirking voice came from the loudspeaker on the drone.

"Master Yan has spoken; he will spare your life."

"I just want you to have a good look around this haunted house and see that Handong doesn't have your ridiculous rules, so you can live more like a human being."

Upon hearing this, Sha Ruijin's stomach clenched violently.

A mouthful of sour, rotten stomach acid mixed with unchewed rice rushed back up to my throat.

"Cough cough cough!"

He clutched his chest and coughed violently, tears and snot smearing his age-spotted face.

His fingernails dug deep into the dusty tablecloth, and a few drops of blood seeped from his curled-up nails.

He wanted to swear and smash his lunchbox in protest.

But he looked up and saw the surveillance camera on the ceiling flashing red light.

He swallowed back the sour taste and humiliation in his mouth.

He knew it better than anyone else.

If you dare to smash this lunchbox, Yunxiao AI will cut off this life-saving bowl of rice in the next second.

They won't even give him a chance to be a dog.

The street just a wall away from the provincial party committee compound is a completely different world.

The blinding sunlight shone on the glass curtain wall, and the holographic GG sign projected a three-dimensional image tens of meters high.

The streets were bustling with people, each clutching a transparent wristband that displayed their points.

The air was filled with the aroma of cumin-smoked roasted meat from street food stalls.

"Old Zhang, did the conglomerate give out subsidies today? Let's go buy two pounds of mutated pork ribs!"

A man in overalls, his face flushed, patted his companion's shoulder forcefully.

"We have to buy it! Master Yan just took over Wall Street, and today his points' purchasing power has increased again!"

Old Zhang grinned from ear to ear as he strode toward the market.

Several heavily armored patrol mechs, each twelve meters tall, passed overhead with heavy steps.

The mechanical feet landed with a metallic "click, click" sound.

There is no need for police here, and there is no crime.

Because the price of any crime is Yunxiao AI's ability to instantly cancel one's identity.

If anyone dares to break the law, their water and electricity will be cut off instantly, and tomorrow they'll be fighting with rats for food in the sewers.

The combination of welfare benefits and absolute authoritarianism transformed the city into a monolithic entity.

Blonde foreigners from all over the world, dragging expensive suitcases, walk the streets like pilgrims.

Their eyes were filled with fervor, and they humbly asked everyone they met in broken Chinese.

All they wanted was a job picking up trash in the sewers in this "lawless totalitarian city".

The camera zooms out again.

The CEO's office is located on the top floor of the Lingxiao Building.

The central air conditioning system was spewing out piercing white mist.

The air conditioning was very cold, and the air was filled with a faint, high-end fir fragrance.

Yan Qingfeng stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the gear empire that belonged entirely to him.

In Handong today, everyone only knows about Lord Yan, but no one knows about the Provincial Party Committee.

"Bang."

The heavy solid wood door was pushed open.

Su Jianxin stepped onto the Persian carpet and quickly walked behind Yan Qingfeng.

He pushed up his reflective gold-rimmed glasses, revealing an uncontrollable, bloodthirsty frenzy behind the lenses.

"Master Yan, top capital firms from various countries have lined up to sign contracts to sell themselves into servitude."

Su Jianxin's voice was very low, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

"Even the toughest nuts on Wall Street have been laid bare their core technologies and underlying secrets."

"We now have the world's testicles completely in our grasp."

Yan Qingfeng didn't respond.

He held a glass of expensive whiskey in his hand, an ice ball slowly swirling in the amber liquid.

Long, slender fingers gently caressed the icy-cold glass.

"However, those old money families in Europe, who have been around for hundreds of years, are still unwilling to give up completely."

Su Jianxin licked his chapped lips, his tone turning somber.

"Old Loeb, that old bastard, didn't die completely from a heart attack. He's frantically contacting the militaries of various European countries from inside the castle."

Su Jianxin took out a top-secret document and handed it over.

"They want to use underground armed forces and international law to set up a blockade in the Strait of Gibraltar and hold onto their last bit of wealth."

After hearing this, Yan Qingfeng's lips curled into a cruel, cold smile.

He slowly raised his hand and tilted the crystal glass.

"Splash!"

A bottle of spirits costing tens of thousands of US dollars was poured directly onto an expensive Persian carpet.

The pungent, irritating smell of alcohol instantly filled the air, masking the scent of fir trees.

The hard ice puck hit the carpet with a dull thud.

This is a ritual performed according to old customs.

"Those old, outdated rules should have been buried in the ground long ago to rot and stink."

Yan Qingfeng turned around, his eyes, devoid of any human warmth, fixed on Su Jianxin.

"Since they don't want to be dignified, I'll help them be dignified."

Su Jianxin's thigh muscles tensed slightly, and a hint of coldness seeped from between his bones.

"Master Yan, you mean...?"

"This pond in Handong can no longer hold us."

Yan Qingfeng straightened the perfectly wrinkle-free cuffs of his shirt, his voice so cold it could pierce the night sky.

"Go and inform Lu Yuan to have the EMP fleet responsible for overseas security set sail."

Yan Qingfeng slammed the empty wine glass heavily onto the table with a crisp "click".

"Tell him he brought enough gunpowder."

"I should go to those old, moss-covered nests in Europe and personally harvest their centuries-old heritage."