When I went home for Chinese New Year, I spent a million times more money on my foreign wife.

The bounty was withdrawn, but Chen Yang had no intention of moving on.

At the breakfast table, Katyusha poked at the smoked salmon with her fork and said without looking up, "Those people spent a billion to buy your life, and you just send back a few dog tags? That's too good to them."

Chen Yang picked up a slice of truffle omelet without saying a word.

He did think it was a good deal.

Ten minutes later, he returned to his study and dialed Chen Yue's number.

"Brother, I've already discussed the Howard family foundation's takeover plan—"

"Let's put that aside for now," Chen Yang interrupted her. "I have a question for you. Can Xingchen Aerospace's sounding rockets be procured for civilian use now?"

Chen Yue paused for two seconds, stunned. "A weather sounding rocket? Theoretically, that's a civilian aerospace product; private companies can legally purchase it. But what do you need it for?"

"Buy three."

"Three sounding rockets? Dude, are you going to do weather monitoring?"

"Observe my ass. You help me find out the coordinates of the private resort islands of the top three big shots among the seven people who issued the bounty."

There was a five-second silence on Chen Yue's end.

"Brother...you wouldn't be thinking of—"

"I'm going to throw something onto their island."

"What are you throwing?"

"Pig manure."

There was a three-second silence on both ends of the phone call.

Chen Yue spoke first: "Um, bro, are you serious?"

"I've never been this serious before. Calculate for me the maximum payload capacity for three sounding rockets; I need them fully loaded. Find a reliable breeding farm, all-natural, the stinkier the better."

Chen Yue took a deep breath, and the sound of keyboard clicking filled the air. "Let me check the payload... a single one weighs about 300 kilograms. Three would be nearly a ton. Are you going to dump a ton of pig manure on each of three islands?"

"Not a ton. Three hundred kilograms per rocket, one per island, that's enough. What I need is precision—detonation in mid-air, like a shower of petals."

Chen Yue's voice took on a strange tone, as if she was desperately trying to suppress laughter. "Brother, do you know that if this gets out, the whole world will laugh their heads off?"

"I want the whole world to laugh. Laugh at them."

"...Okay. I'll make the arrangements."

-

Forty-eight hours later.

In the high seas of the Pacific Ocean, there is an unnamed coral reef island.

Black Kite's logistics team used two heavy helicopters to transport three launch systems and three white-painted sounding rockets to the island.

The rocket's fairing has been removed, and the warhead has been placed in a specially made sealed container.

The contents of the canisters required the Black Kite team members responsible for filling them to wear gas masks throughout the entire process.

Lei Zi stood beside the launch pad, reporting into the phone: "Boss, all three are loaded. Ballistic parameters have been entered, and target coordinates are confirmed. The first one will hit Howard's villa in the Bahamas, the second will hit Carlson's private Caribbean island, and the third will hit Webber's Bermuda estate."

"Detonation height?"

"As you requested, airburst at 150 meters above the ground. After the sealed container explodes, the contents will evenly cover an area of ​​200 meters in radius. We've also calculated the wind direction; tonight, all three target locations will be experiencing southeasterly winds, which will be able to blow the smell into their bedrooms."

When will it launch?

"At 3 a.m. local time, three missiles were launched simultaneously."

"Let's do it."

-

New York time, 3:07 AM.

The Baha Islands, the Howard family's private resort islands.

Old Howard is taking sleeping pills in the master bedroom on the second floor.

He hasn't slept well for five days since those blood-stained dog tags arrived at his doorstep.

A muffled thud came from the sky.

It wasn't the sound of an explosion; it was more like a giant balloon being popped.

Then there's the taste.

A stench with extremely strong penetrating power, capable of churning out everything in a person's stomach, descended from the sky, overwhelming everything.

Howard's wife was the first to rush out of the bedroom, running barefoot to the balcony and stepping into a layer of brownish, sticky substance.

Her screams echoed throughout the entire island.

When the private security captain rushed upstairs, his face and body were covered in things that had fallen from the sky.

He shouted "We are under attack!" three times over the walkie-talkie before realizing—it wasn't a bomb, it wasn't poison gas.

It's feces.

Genuine, untreated excrement radiating primal vitality.

Five minutes later, in the Caribbean Sea, the same muffled sound echoed.

Five minutes later, Bermuda.

Three private islands were struck by the first-ever intercontinental fecal attack in human history in the early morning.

-

The news spread around the world before dawn.

Howard's security team called the police.

The local coast guard arrived at the scene and recorded the entire incident. The video was leaked online less than two hours after it circulated within their internal system.

Chen Yue bought trending topics even faster than last time.

"Bro, I bought the trending topics on major global platforms for 24 hours, and I've already come up with the headline—'Founders of three major Wall Street funds attacked by transoceanic pig manure, private islands turned into pig farms.'"

"Where's the accompanying picture?"

"A screenshot of Howard's wife stepping barefoot in pig manure has been turned into an emoji, and it has been circulated for over 80 million times in four hours. A candid photo of Carlson vomiting in the yard has also been dug up."

"Where is Weber?"

"Weber was in a bad situation; he was walking his dog in the yard when he was hit head-on. His lawyer issued a statement saying he would sue, but the problem is—sounding rockets are legal civilian space products, the launch site was an unclaimed island in international waters, and the warhead contained organic fertilizer, which is not on any weapons or ammunition control list. Legally, this is considered an 'accidental fall of agricultural waste from high altitudes'."

Chen Yang did not respond.

Chen Yue continued, "I had my legal team prepare contingency plans in advance. Even if they take it to the International Court of Justice, the jurisdictional dispute alone could drag on for three years. And guess what—people on Twitter have already started calling this incident 'pig manure delivery,' and it's number one in global trending topics."

"Does anyone still mention the bounty?"

"Nobody mentions it anymore. Who dares to? You spend a billion dollars to save your life, and all you get in return is a ton of pig manure falling from the sky. Now everyone on Wall Street is saying the same thing—'Don't touch that Asian guy, he doesn't play by the rules.'"

"The Howard family foundation's takeover plan continues."

"receive."

Chen Yang hung up the phone and walked out of the study.

Katyusha sat on the living room sofa scrolling through her phone, the screen showing aerial footage of Howard Island being covered in pig manure.

"Did you do this?"

"Um."

Katyusha turned her phone over to show him the comments section. "Some people say you're the most creative madman in the world."

"Let's go have lunch."

Chen Yang picked up the car keys on the table, Katyusha turned off her phone and followed him.

The snow in Mo City has stopped, and sunlight is filtering through the gaps in the clouds, shining on the roofs of the row of black bulletproof cars in front of the manor.

Lei Zi was already waiting by the car, holding a newly arrived document.

"Boss, Sister Chen Yue just sent this. The Howard family fund's holdings details and financial chain structure are all here."

Chen Yang took the documents and got into the car.