I created a foundation

He only believes in power and money.

He believed that there must be some unknown advanced technology hidden inside the stone statue, or it must be made of extremely hard metal that does not exist on Earth.

Ivanov transported the statue back to his private estate deep in the Siberian taiga.

There is a heavily guarded laboratory underground in the manor.

He ordered his top scientists and engineers to find out the composition of the statue at all costs.

The researchers first used various non-destructive testing methods, including X-ray, ultrasound, and nuclear magnetic resonance, but the inside of the stone statue was in chaos, as if it could absorb all detection rays.

Ivanov lost his patience.

"Use the laser! Cut it open for me!"

He barked his orders.

A high-energy laser cutting machine was brought in.

The dazzling beam of light focused on the arm of the stone statue, making a teeth-grinding sizzling sound.

However, after a few minutes, not even a scratch remained on the surface of the statue.

Instead, the core component of the multi-million dollar laser cutting machine burned out due to energy overload, emitting bursts of black smoke.

Scientists then tried diamond drills, ultra-high-pressure water jets, and even small amounts of military-grade plastic explosives.

Without exception, the stone statues were unharmed.

All tools that attempt to destroy it either break or become ineffective.

Ivanov was furious, but there was nothing he could do.

He began to believe that this thing might really be "indestructible".

This failed "research" actually made the statue even more famous.

Its indestructible properties were leaked through certain channels, causing an even greater sensation on the international black market.

"Tears of God", "Indestructible Body", "Obsidian Golem"... Various imaginative titles are given to this silent stone statue.

It has become a highly sought-after item among top collectors and occult enthusiasts – a relic of an anachronism.

Its value has also risen sharply, reaching a staggering figure, and it is in short supply.

Owning it is not only a symbol of wealth, but also represents the ultimate pursuit of the unknown and mystery.

The Foundation's intelligence network spans the globe, monitoring various anomalous phenomena.

However, their primary focus is on "events" and "entities" that can produce significant energy fluctuations, cause mass casualties, or create cognitive hazards.

This stone statue has been in a strange state of "silence" since it was unearthed.

It does not emit any detectable abnormal energy and does not actively affect the surrounding environment.

It simply "exists", hard, silent, and perfect.

Its circulation in the human world is mostly through legal auctions or secretive but "normal" logic black market transactions.

Even if such a "dead object" is occasionally mentioned in intelligence, it is often classified as a "strange item to be verified" and is prioritized behind countless containment projects that pose more immediate threats.

The detectors are silent and the prophets are indifferent.

It is like a carefully disguised time bomb with a perfectly concealed mechanism, quietly waiting for the moment to be awakened under the nose of the Foundation.

After several years of tossing and turning, it changed hands several times.

Greed, curiosity, desire for conquest, and all kinds of human emotions, like invisible threads, guide its trajectory.

It stretches from the deserts of America, to the palaces of Europe, to the ice fields of Siberia.

Now, it is about to reach a new stop on its journey.

Yes, the last stop.

An encrypted email was sent from Geneva to an address in Tokyo.

The content of the email is simple: the "collection" you have been pursuing for a long time has been confirmed to arrive next month.

Tokyo.

The steel forest that gathers countless desires and miracles.

A city destined to tremble because of it.

The most terrifying seed of disaster from the primeval universe is about to break out of the ground under the watering of mortals' ignorance and greed.

The sound of the cargo ship's whistle stretched out in the night of Yokohama Port.

A huge, heavily protected crate is being slowly hoisted onto the ship.

Destination, Tokyo.

The night was as dark as ink, enveloping a private club on the shores of Tokyo Bay, closed to the public. Brightly lit, yet heavily guarded, an invisible pressure hung in the air. The annual "Apocalypse Auction" was proceeding in secret. Those who could enter this venue were all titans wielding astonishing wealth and hidden power worldwide.

The auctioneer's voice, with a hint of subtle temptation, echoed in the luxuriously decorated hall.

"Everyone, tonight's finale is codenamed the Sleeping God!"

As he finished speaking, the massive red velvet curtain behind him slowly opened to the sides. A glaring spotlight instantly focused on the center of the booth, where a humanoid stone statue stood silently. Its entire body was a deep, dark black, seemingly absorbing all light, yet at certain angles, it reflected a faint glow.

The statue depicted a man with impeccable muscular lines, every inch of his flesh brimming with explosive power and a primal beauty that transcended the mundane. His eyes were tightly closed, his face handsome beyond gender, appearing half asleep and half awake, as if he were merely lost in an eternal slumber rather than a cold, lifeless object.

There was a suppressed gasp from the audience, followed by whispers, which spread among the crowd like a tide.

"This...what era is this creation from?"

"Oh my God, I've never seen stone sculptures so... so full of life!"

"Its material doesn't look like any known rock on Earth."

In an inconspicuous corner of the front row, a figure who had remained silent throughout slowly raised his number plate. He wore an exquisite silver bird-beak mask, obscuring the upper half of his face, revealing only a pair of eyes that still gleamed with fanaticism in the dim light.

He is Mitsui Ren, the ostensible president of Mitsui Biosciences Group, a tough-minded figure known in the business world for his ruthless decisiveness. But within the turbulent world of collecting, he carries a chilling nickname: "The Gluttonous Baron." He is renowned for his unscrupulous pursuit of rare and precious treasures from around the globe, particularly those steeped in myth and taboo.

"One hundred million dollars."

A hoarse and deep voice came from behind the bird-beak mask. The volume was not loud, but it was like a huge rock thrown into a calm lake, instantly overwhelming all the discussions and exclamations in the venue.

After a brief lull, several wealthy individuals who were also determined to acquire the statue began bidding, but their momentum was noticeably weaker. After a few rounds of symbolic bidding, the price quickly climbed.

Finally, when Mitsui Ren expressionlessly quoted the exorbitant price of "US$120 million," no one dared to compete with him. The hammer fell heavily, announcing the final ownership of this "Sleeping God."

The corners of Mitsui Ren's mouth, hidden under the mask, curled up into an arc of possessiveness that was imperceptible to others.

Hours later, as darkness deepened, a convoy of retired special forces soldiers, escorting a massive constant temperature and humidity chamber crafted from a specialized alloy, quietly entered Mitsui Ren's sprawling private estate in the outskirts of Tokyo.

This manor, called "Hidden Garden," appears from the outside to be just an ordinary, heavily guarded mansion. However, its true core lies three hundred meters underground—the "Temple of All Things," a private collection secretly built by Mitsui Ren, who has expended an astronomical fortune and over a decade of painstaking effort.

The half-meter-thick door, after a complex double verification process involving iris scans and voiceprints, silently slid inward, revealing a vast and eerie space resembling a museum from another dimension. Countless specially treated glass display cases, illuminated by carefully arranged lighting, shone with a cold, eerie glow. Within these display cases lay everything from frozen prehistoric mammoth calves to faintly radioactive fragments of alien meteorites, from ancient forbidden grimoires bound in human skin to the distorted, ominous skeletons of deep-sea creatures... Each and every one of these artifacts would be enough to drive any historian or occultist mad.

But in the very center of the "Temple of All Things," a newly built platform carved from a single block of black volcanic rock was now empty. Clearly, this was the exclusive throne prepared for the new king arriving tonight.

The escorts, wearing specially made protective suits, carefully placed the massive alloy box on a high black platform. Under the icy, sharp gaze of Mitsui Ren, peering through her beak-shaped mask, they held their breath as they unlocked the intricate locks on the box's exterior.

"laugh--"

As the final airtight lock was unlocked, the lid slowly rose, and a cold, white air, with a hint of sulfur and metal, emanated from it. The perfect black form of the "Sleeping God" finally revealed its true form within Mitsui Ren's private temple.

Mitsui Ren waved his hand, signaling all escorts and manor guards to withdraw. Even his most trusted butler, who had served him for decades, bowed and exited the Vientiane Temple.

The heavy warehouse door closed silently again.

The entire "Temple of All Things" fell into absolute silence, with only Mitsui Ren and the quietly standing stone statue left.

He slowly removed the silver bird-beak mask, revealing a face roughly fifty years old, well-maintained, yet slightly distorted by extreme excitement and desire. His eyes burned with an almost morbid obsession as he stared intently at the stone statue before him, as if wanting to devour it whole into the depths of his soul.

"Perfect... so perfect!" he whispered, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. He extended his right hand, clad in a pristine white silk glove, and gently brushed his fingertips across the statue's cold, smooth, delicate "skin," as smooth as the finest obsidian. It felt hard and cold, yet deep within it emanated an indescribable, eerie warmth, almost like a living thing.

"Those so-called Michelangelo and Rodin...are nothing more than ignorant children playing in the mud before you!"

He slowly paced around the statue, greedily admiring every angle and detail of this "work of art" that surpassed all his imagination. The tightly closed eyes, the slightly pursed lips, the terrifying power hidden beneath the smooth lines of muscle, all sent shivers and ecstasy emanating from the depths of his soul. He even had the illusion that the statue would open its tightly closed eyes in the next moment and whisper to him in a language of timeless antiquity.

"How can such a sacred object be allowed to be so carelessly defiled by mortals?" Sanjing Ren's voice was filled with a strong sense of possessiveness. "Before inviting those old fellows to come and admire it, I must personally brush away the dust of eons for you, allowing you to radiate the brilliance you truly deserve, a brilliance that will make the entire world tremble."

At this moment, the "Temple of All Things" was so quiet that the only sounds that could be heard were Mitsui Ren's slightly heavy breathing and the "thump thump" sound of his heart beating violently due to excessive excitement.

Mitsui Ren picked up a palm-sized bottle of dark blue, viscous liquid from the operating table. The label read "Type-7 Biologically Active Cleaner" in ancient Hebrew. He carefully unscrewed the cap and poured some onto a neatly folded piece of suede in his hand, woven from the softest fur from the bellies of newborn snow wolf pups in the Arctic ice sheet.

He took another deep breath, his eyes filled with an almost pilgrim-like enthusiasm, as well as a hint of greed and inquiry hidden deep in his eyes that was difficult to detect.

Mitsui Ren held his breath, slowly raised his hand, and stretched it towards the stone statue's left shoulder, which was full of smooth lines and explosive power.

Chapter 132: Skin Under the Rock! The Sleeping "God"

Inside the private collection, the air was so quiet that it seemed frozen.

Only the low humming sound of the special constant temperature and humidity system echoed in the huge space.

The spotlight focused all the light in the center, bathing the newly acquired "stone statue" in a soft yet bright halo.

It stands quietly, as if it has been here since time immemorial, with a mystery and loneliness that transcends time.

The rich man held his breath, his eyes gleaming with an almost morbid fascination.

This "stone statue" was the proudest piece in his lifelong collection. Its perfect form even surpassed any ancient Greek sculpture he had ever seen.

He firmly believed that there must be a shocking secret hidden in it.

He will uncover it with his own hands.

A silver tray was respectfully brought by the servant. On the tray was a basin of warm water with a faint fragrance. It seemed that some expensive maintenance liquid was dissolved in the water.

Next to it was a neatly folded piece of fine-textured white deerskin.

The rich man waved his hand, and the servants retreated quietly, leaving this space entirely to him and his "treasures".

He put on a pair of white silk gloves as thin as a cicada's wings, and his movements were gentle, as if he was treating a newborn baby.

He picked up the basin of water, walked to the "stone statue", took a deep breath, and tried to calm his heart, which was beating violently with excitement.

He first walked slowly around the "stone statue", his eyes greedily scanning every inch of the "skin" of the "stone statue".