You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

"Clatter".

A chubby little hand slammed heavily on the Enter key.

The scene was instantly pulled to Frankfurt, 8,000 kilometers away.

Two o'clock in the morning.

The top-floor conference room of the twin towers of the Klaus family headquarters on the European financial district.

The rich smoke of Cuban cigars swirled beneath the dazzling, luxurious crystal chandelier.

Old Krauss's right hand, holding a cigar, hung in mid-air, his knuckles turning bluish-white from excessive force.

A piece of burnt tobacco ash broke off and landed on the priceless handmade Persian carpet, burning a charred hole in it.

He didn't even glance at it.

Those cloudy eyes, sunken deep in their sockets, were fixed on the military encrypted satellite phone in the center of the mahogany conference table.

"Still no news?" Old Klaus's voice sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

The family intelligence chief standing behind him had his head down, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Ten minutes ago, Blackwater's mercenaries reported that they had entered the three-nautical-mile reef area around Wanzhou Island. After that, communication was completely cut off."

On either side of the conference table, a dozen or so executives from conglomerates, dressed in suits, looked at each other in bewilderment.

Panic quietly spread within this enclosed, luxurious space.

"They're just a venture capital firm from Jianghai City! Shen Wanzhou didn't even bring a bodyguard, and she dared to go on vacation to the Caribbean!"

A bald director slammed his hand on the table, making the bone china coffee cup on it rattle.

"Three heavily armed speedboats went to kill a woman and two children, why have they lost contact?!"

"Could it be that Chen son-in-law from Jianghai City...?"

"Shut up!" Old Klaus interrupted sharply, the embers of his cigar trembling in mid-air.

"What trouble can a poor cook who only knows how to work around the stove cause? As long as Shen Wanzhou dies, the Shen Group's multi-billion dollar financial system will be leaderless, and we can..."

Before he could finish speaking...

"Snapped!"

The crystal chandelier overhead, which cost over a million euros, went out instantly.

Not just chandeliers.

The entire 88-story twin towers were plunged into deathly darkness in the same second.

The humming sound of the central air conditioning compressor stopped abruptly.

The entire conference room was filled with a suffocating atmosphere, so loud that the ticking of the wall clock could be heard.

"What's going on? Where's the backup power?!" Old Klaus's roar echoed in the darkness.

The intelligence chief rushed toward the door in the dark and pulled hard on the brass handle.

"The door won't open! The electronic access control system is locked! The backup generator isn't starting at all!"

In the darkness, someone knocked over a chair, and someone broke a coffee cup.

The usually aloof and arrogant European old money was now like blind mice trapped in an iron cage, running around aimlessly.

"Buzz—"

A low, humming electrical sound suddenly rang out from directly in front of the conference room.

Immediately afterwards, the giant circular curved screen that occupied the entire wall lit up with a cold, eerie blue light.

The cold light shone on the faces of more than a dozen high-ranking chaebol executives, illuminating their pale, paper-like faces.

There were no internal system logos for the Klaus family on the screen.

There was only a broken skull, slowly rotating and composed of countless blood-red codes.

"What is this thing..." The bald director's legs went weak, and his back slammed heavily against the edge of the conference table.

"A ghost base station...this is a ghost base station with the highest privileges on the dark web!"

The intelligence chief recognized the symbol, and his voice cracked as if someone had grabbed him by the neck.

"Someone used military-grade computing power to forcibly take over our independent internal network!"

Old Klaus shoved aside the person blocking his way and rushed to the screen.

The skull disappeared.

The screen then switched to the Klaus family's offshore fund accounts around the world.

A long string of dazzling numbers, followed by nine zeros.

"Quickly! Unplug the network cable! Cut off the physical connection!" Old Klaus roared at the executives who were still in a daze.

Useless.

The numbers on the screen began to plummet at a rate that defied financial common sense.

Account balance: 120 billion euros.

next second.

Nine hundred billion.

Five hundred billion.

My Swiss bank bearer account has been emptied!

An executive slumped to the ground, still clutching his personal cell phone which was frantically calling the police.

"The other side used trillions of yuan in funds! They were simultaneously shorting all the energy stocks under our names! The market crashed!"

The other, more sensible one, made a hissing sound as he clutched his chest, gasping for breath.

The fluctuating numbers on the screen were like a blunt knife, slowly cutting open the veins of these tycoons.

In just three minutes.

The Klaus family's century-long accumulation was reduced to a glaring "0" on this dark blue screen.

Finally, all the red lines plummeted to the bottom.

A line of pure Chinese characters in regular script slowly popped up in the center of the screen.

Next to it was a crooked little pig face spelled out with keyboard symbols.

【I've unplugged your internet cable. —Wanzhou Island.】

Old Klaus stared intently at the line of text.

The cigar between his fingers burned his skin, making a sizzling sound, but he seemed to have lost all feeling of pain.

Wanzhou Island.

The place where they had just sent assassins.

Jianghai City son-in-law who has absolutely no good luck.

There is no such thing as a poor cook who lives off a woman.

It can mobilize ghost base stations on the dark web, generate trillions of dollars in an instant, and make a century-old conglomerate evaporate completely in three minutes.

In this world, there is only that living Yama, who sits atop a throne amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

"The Abyss... He is the Abyss..."

Old Klaus experienced a stomach spasm, and a mouthful of acid rushed up his throat.

A century of pride shattered into dust before this unshakeable divine power.

They've messed with a monster that even international rules have to circumvent.

"It's over. It's all over."

The intelligence chief knelt on the carpet, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders trembling violently.

"Even our begging bowls have been smashed. Tomorrow morning, international economic intelligence will surround this place."

Old Klaus did not fall.

His face, covered in age spots, twitched violently, and his originally cloudy eyes erupted with the madness of a beast before its death.

He lost everything.

The foundation built by generations was destroyed in an instant.

Since that monster isn't leaving them a way out, then they'll all go to hell together.

Old Klaus ripped off his silk tie and stumbled toward a metal safe in the corner of the conference room.

With trembling fingers, he rapidly dialed the mechanical combination lock.

"Click".

The heavy cabinet door popped open.

There were no gold bars or documents inside.

There was only an old-fashioned radio transmitter and a red physical button covered by a glass dome.

"Master! What are you doing!" the bald director shouted in terror.

"What are you doing?" Old Klaus's voice was like that of a vengeful ghost.

He grabbed a bronze statue next to him and smashed the glass cover.

Glass shards flew, cutting the back of his hand, and blood dripped onto the control panel.

"I want their whole family dead!"

Old Klaus slammed his hand heavily on the red physical button.

"Fire the signal flare! Send all the remaining Blackwater mercenaries we can contact in the Caribbean to that island! If we die, Shen Wanzhou will die with us!"

……

Let's rewind to the Caribbean Sea, to Wanzhou Island.

Chen Yuan remained seated on the folding chair on the beach.

The sea breeze blew by, ruffling the stray hairs on his forehead.

The specially made tablet screen on Chen Nianshen's lap has returned to its normal desktop.

The three-and-a-half-year-old boy took off his blue light blocking glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Dad, that fake bird fell down. Their house is all dark now."

Chen Nian Shen's tone was not boastful; it was as if he were stating something as ordinary as eating a fried egg for breakfast.

Chen Yuan reached out and gently stroked his son's soft hair.

The large hand carried a reassuring warmth.

"Well done. Go wash your hands, get ready to eat crab."

Just as Chen Nianshen was holding the tablet and preparing to get up.

At the end of the pitch-black horizon.

The edge of the reef area three nautical miles away.

"Chirp—"

A sharp, piercing sound tore through the air, ripping apart the roar of the waves without warning.

Followed by.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three blinding red signal flares, trailing long plumes of flame, exploded with a deafening roar in the night sky above Wanzhou Island.

The once tranquil night sky was instantly dyed a chilling blood red.