It turns out I'm a second-generation demon.

Chapter 743 Fuzhou Branch

Wartime command center.

The Thunder King sat behind his desk, with ice patches on his forehead. He leaned lazily against the wooden chair, his eyes closed, looking like he was working despite being ill.

He hadn't left the command room for almost five days. His hair was greasy, his suit was wrinkled, and his tie was nowhere to be found.

Over the past three days, he has only slept for about eight hours, averaging less than three hours a day.

Sleep deprivation wasn't the most fatal flaw; the mental strain of working at high speed, coupled with days of anxiety, finally left me exhausted and nearly sick.

The elites of the AI ​​team gathered around the conference table to play cards. In their words, a balance between work and rest is beneficial for brain relaxation, and playing cards is a very necessary activity.

"Is the Dharma King running a fever?"

"When you have a fever, you should cover yourself with a hot towel, not apply ice packs."

"Huh? If you have a fever, you should cool it down. Your computer CPU is overheating, are you going to put it on a brazier to cool it down?"

"Too."

"There's still no new progress on the Sanwu side. The Giants destroyed their Nanchang branch the day before yesterday, and their whereabouts are currently unknown... Wait, I have a bomb, don't play your cards so quickly."

"They were throwing cards to trick you into playing your bomb, you idiot, you fell for it... Don't worry, let those two half-step Extreme Masters cause some more trouble. Let Sanwu show his face first and tell them that Baoze's half-step Extreme Masters are at sea, not on land."

"It doesn't matter if you throw out bombs, it doesn't matter if you don't have any cards left, the main thing is to make sure your opponent doesn't have any cards left either. The key isn't the bombs themselves, but how many bombs your partner still has... How's the battle in the Pantheon?"

"That's really like a stewed rice dish; you don't know whether you're alive or dead until the cards are revealed."

The group of intellectuals whispered and discussed amongst themselves while playing cards.

"Han Zhi...I'm thirsty..." Thunder King murmured.

The command center fell silent, and the elite members of the think tank were stunned.

Han Zhi is the name of the female secretary of the Thunder and Lightning King.

The think tank elites looked at each other, speechless, and the atmosphere suddenly became somewhat melancholic.

After his female secretary died, the Thunder King did experience a period of depression, but he quickly adjusted his mindset and threw himself into his demanding work.

After all, the ruler is still here, and the battle is not over. How can he, as the minister, continue to be depressed?

Everyone was very happy to see that he had overcome his psychological trauma so quickly.

He thought to himself, "That makes sense. She's just a woman. With the status and position of the Dharma King, what kind of woman can't he get?"

It's like rich people eating big pig's trotters—braised, steamed, grilled, stewed... they can choose whatever they want and eat as much as they want.

As long as an iron pestle cannot be made into a needle, it can pierce through the intestines and stomach inch by inch.

Why dwell on a woman's past? Deep affection is short-lived. In this day and age, where can you find such profound and sincere emotions? We've already entered a society that pursues material things.

But they didn't expect that the Thunder King hadn't let go, or even recovered.

He usually behaves normally, acting decisively, calmly, and seriously.

But when the night was deep and quiet, and he was exhausted, he subconsciously called out that woman's name.

The elites all looked toward the head of the think tank, a brilliant old man.

The old man sighed: "What is love in this world that makes people willing to die for it?"

His underlings asked, "What do you think, boss?"

The older man thought for a moment and said, "Love for sale."

The underlings gave a thumbs-up: "Flash!!"

At that moment, an employee responsible for contacting the front lines suddenly stood up after answering a call: "Your Majesty, 'Giant' Mar Gaitilahan has appeared at the Fuzhou branch."

The think tank elites raised an eyebrow and sneered, "They're here."

The Thunder King slowly opened his eyes: "Notify the abstainer of lust that it is time to act."

......

The night was deep in the Fuzhou branch.

The Fuzhou branch stands by the lake and is the core building of Zhanhu Science and Technology Park.

All the office buildings within the entire science park are the property of the Fuzhou branch. The property management of the science park is also a branch of Baoze Property Management Company.

Zhanhu Science and Technology Park is a newly built CBD area, and the real estate company that won the bid for the construction is Baoze.

After its establishment, Baoze bid for various industrial zones and CBDs in major cities across the country and built them into branches.

Apart from the Shanghai headquarters, which is located in the most bustling CBD area, all other branches were built from scratch.

This is to save costs. After all, building a branch in a bustling area is too capital-intensive. Even a money-making machine like Baoze, with government funding, cannot handle such a huge amount of capital consumption.

Starting from scratch is troublesome, but land is cheap. And by building a similar technology park and renting out the rest of the office buildings, the investment can be recouped in just a few years.

Then there's the matter of secrecy. They designate a territory where they can do whatever they want, making it very difficult for outsiders to discover the secret of their bloodline.

In the dead of night, the office buildings in Zhanhu Science and Technology Park were dark, but the main building where the branch was located was brightly lit, with xenon headlights shining and slowly rotating, the beams of light sweeping across the science and technology park.

Tap tap tap....

Boom boom boom.....

The sounds of machine gun fire and the deafening explosions of grenades and other explosive devices mingled together.

Office buildings, streets, supermarkets... flashes of fire occasionally appear, followed by billowing smoke.

This place had become a battlefield, with members of the Superpowered Association's bloodline and employees of the Fuzhou branch firing machine guns at each other and throwing grenades.

The Fuzhou branch even brought in armed helicopters to assist, and the heavy machine guns and grenades used in the assault caused great casualties to the bloodline of the Superpower Association.

"These foreign devils, if it weren't for headquarters restricting our weapons, I would have blown them to heaven with a nuclear bomb and sent them to meet God." Zhang Xuezhong, the head of the Fuzhou branch, carried an RPG, pulled the trigger, and a plume of smoke pierced through the glass, hitting the enemy who was trying to break in through the window amidst the clattering of the crosstalk.

The flames engulfed the enemy, but the explosive force didn't kill him; he was only seriously injured.

"Damn it, they've all come elites." Zhang Xuezhong spat.

"Forget about the Dongfeng missiles; they're not killing the enemy, they're planting mushrooms," one officer complained. "We'd be better off with helicopters."

The situation was not ideal. The weapons and equipment of the Fuzhou branch were superior to those of these American-blooded soldiers who had traveled a long distance, but their elite combat strength was far inferior.

The opposing team consists entirely of talented individuals, sent to fight in the Far East; naturally, none of them are weak, while the Fuzhou branch only has so many skilled fighters.

Right now, they are barely maintaining a balance thanks to concentrated firepower.

"Have you notified headquarters?"

"We've been notified to hold out for half an hour, and reinforcements will arrive in half an hour."

Zhang Xuezhong grabbed the communicator and roared, "Brothers, hold on for half an hour! Those who die will be buried in gold and silver coffins, and those who live will be promoted and made rich!"

The battle was divided into small groups. Some employees held their ground at headquarters, while others fought a guerrilla war outside, using the terrain and their own firepower to engage the blood descendants of the Superpower Association.

P.S.: I recommend a novel by a fellow reader: "The Hunter's Game".

(End of this chapter)