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

The sea breeze, carrying a salty smell, rattled the blinds in the control room.

Special Envoy Zhang held the takeover order stamped with the ministry's red seal in his hand, his hands trembling as if he had Parkinson's disease.

He looked down through the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows.

The densely packed heavy trucks have blocked the coastal road outside the port like a long sausage.

Hundreds of fully armed law enforcement officers stood in the open space, staring at each other.

None of them know how to operate a gantry crane.

"Get out of the way! All of you, get out of the way!"

The glass door to the dispatch hall was violently pushed open.

George William stormed in, his red tie askew, looking furious.

The comprador behind him was carrying several thick stacks of customs declarations, panting heavily from exhaustion.

George rushed to the control panel and slammed his hand on it, making the walkie-talkie vibrate.

"Special Envoy Zhang! Didn't you just say on the phone that the port has been fully taken over?"

George's sea-blue eyes widened, and spittle flew everywhere.

"My truck has been waiting outside for three whole hours, why hasn't a single crane moved!"

Special Envoy Zhang was already seething with anger, and when this foreigner yelled at him, his face turned as red as an eggplant.

"Why are you yelling at me! The equipment is all here, if you're so capable, go down and operate it yourself!"

He pointed at the towering steel behemoths outside the window and retorted without hesitation.

George was furious and yanked hard on his suit collar.

"I'm an investor! I paid exorbitant port fees, why should I be the one operating the kind of machinery only blue-collar workers touch?"

"Because there isn't even a single worker left on this runaway dock!"

Special Envoy Zhang kicked over a nearby plastic trash can, scattering empty bottles all over the ground.

"More than two thousand people collectively took paid annual leave based on the Labor Law. How the hell am I supposed to load them onto the ship?!"

George froze, his facial muscles twitching violently twice.

He turned his head and stared intently at Chu Yunfei, who was still standing at the gate.

Chu Yunfei, dressed in a Tang suit with dark cloud patterns, was slowly peeling walnuts.

"Oh dear, is President George getting angry?"

Chu Yunfei tossed the peeled walnut kernels into his mouth, chewing them with a crunching sound, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Special Envoy Zhang has issued the order, and the announcement has been made over the loudspeaker."

"If you two are really so bored, why don't you take your hundred or so men and go down and carry the sacks yourselves?"

Envoy Zhang was trembling with anger and pointed at Chu Yunfei's nose, cursing loudly.

"Stop with your sarcastic remarks! Believe me or not, I'll arrest you on charges of disrupting production!"

"This charge is terrifying."

Chu Yunfei patted his chest exaggeratedly.

"Our workers are legally entitled to leave. As their boss, I can't just hold a knife to their neck and force them to work, can I?"

He dusted off the crumbs on his hands and swaggered toward the elevator.

"The port is now in your possession, and all the equipment is intact. I need to go back for some tea. You leaders, please enjoy yourselves."

With a "ding," the elevator doors closed, shutting out the furious shouts and curses from inside.

Just as the argument was raging, a piercing "beep beep" alarm suddenly sounded in the dispatch room.

The alarm red light flashed wildly on the main control screen, making everyone's faces appear deathly pale.

A municipal party committee official who had followed him approached the screen, glanced at it, and his legs went weak.

"Director Zhang... the power supply module in the cold chain container area has tripped!"

George's head buzzed, and he grabbed the clerk's collar like a mad dog.

"A power outage? Those are export chips we worked our butts off to produce!"

He roared at the top of his lungs, spitting all over the officer's face.

"There are also a large amount of precision chemical raw materials! If the temperature control system shuts down, they will all become waste within two hours!"

The officer looked miserable, pointing at the ever-rising temperature curve on the screen, his voice trembling.

"This was triggered by the automated protection mechanism, and all the maintenance technicians have taken the day off."

"Forcing power on without authorization and manual reset could directly cause a fire!"

This statement effectively sealed the fate of that pile of goods.

Although it was early winter, the midday sun was scorching, baking the tin boxes directly.

In less than an hour, a nauseating, strange smell filled the sea breeze.

Hundreds of containers filled with high-end seafood and fresh produce saw their ice melt rapidly due to the lack of air conditioning.

Foul-smelling, rotten blood dripped down the seams of the shipping container.

Large swaths of dark red sewage flowed across the concrete floor, the pungent stench making it impossible to open one's eyes.

The flies swarmed in, their buzzing wings sending chills down one's spine.

Even more critical are those precision chemical raw materials and export electronic products.

George rushed down the dispatch building like a stray dog, stumbling and staggering to his container.

Ignoring the scorching hot metal, he desperately tore open the container's seal with his bare hands.

The cabinet door creaked open.

A pungent smell of burning plastic hit you, and the heat made it hard to breathe.

The hundreds of boxes of low-end foundry chips that had been painstakingly assembled were all melted and deformed by the high temperature inside the boxes, which exceeded 50 degrees Celsius.

Some inferior batteries even swelled and leaked, emitting wisps of pungent yellow smoke.

"No...this is impossible..."

George clutched his head tightly with both hands and knelt upright in the flowing sewage.

His expensive white suit was stained with foul-smelling mud, but he was completely oblivious.

These few containers of goods were his last assets, scraped together from various sources to save him.

They had hoped that this shipment would bring in funds to plug the hole in Wall Street's coffers.

Now, it's all turned into a pile of foul-smelling industrial waste.

There are no skilled workers and no logistics transfer points.

On this day, the export throughput data of the foreign trade ports in Handong Province was frozen at a glaring "zero".

George stared blankly at the pile of deformed scrap, his eyes as empty as two dry wells.

The satellite phone in my pocket suddenly started vibrating wildly against my inner thigh, like a death knell.

His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone; the screen displayed the names of major Wall Street clients.

Those glaring English letters felt like knives stabbing his nerves.

He swallowed hard, his saliva tasting of blood. As soon as he slid the answer button, a deafening roar came from the receiver.

"Mr. William, the goods haven't been loaded on time, and we've already initiated breach of contract claims!"

The voice on the other end of the phone was as cold as an ice blade, devoid of any human emotion.

"You'd better have $300 million in cash ready, or the Wall Street gangsters will be knocking on your door tomorrow morning."

George opened his mouth, his voice hoarse like rough sandpaper rubbing.

"Give me one more day, and I'll go find the Party Secretary of Handong City to resolve the departure issue..."

"Stop using Chinese bureaucrats as an excuse!"

The other party interrupted him without any mercy, their tone revealing a ruthless intent to eliminate him completely.

"The board of directors just received a secret investment from the Lingxiao Consortium ten minutes ago. They not only bought out all your debts, but also asked me to pass on a message to you."