Marvel: Starting with the Glint-Glint Fruit

The woman was rummaging through the files and computer on Clement's desk.

Clement immediately understood their purpose. His mind raced. International police? Or some hostile force?

As he was thinking, he heard a woman's voice.

"Looks like we're in luck, Boss. Here's a list and detailed information of all the participants in this auction."

Chapter Ten: You Made a Smart Choice (Seeking Monthly Tickets and Recommendations)

"It seems we can save ourselves a lot of trouble."

The newcomer was none other than Matthew. He was in a good mood after hearing the woman's words, but Clement was completely the opposite. His face was filled with fear and anger: "Who are you? Do you know what you're doing?"

"Otherwise, what do you think we're doing?"

Matthew asked a question in return, then casually placed his coffee cup on the desk. He extended a finger, and a dazzling golden cross of light shone from the tip. Those who were facing Clement up close at this moment could feel an incredible and immense energy emanating from it.

Instinct told him that when that energy was released, he would die, and die a gruesome death.

The fear of death nearly overwhelmed Clement's reason. His body trembled, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his lips turned purple with extreme terror as he stammered, "Let me go, let me go. You've already gotten what you wanted."

"No, not entirely. Where are those imprisoned girls?"

"I...I can't say." Despite his extreme fear, Clement gritted his teeth and prepared to fight to the death.

"You have a very warm family, a virtuous wife, a son with excellent grades, and a young daughter. If you think the people behind you will destroy your family, then why don't you think we won't, Clement?" the woman looking at the computer said coldly.

"No, you can't do that, they are innocent."

Clement broke down. He was only planning to fight to the death because he was afraid his family would suffer, but he didn't expect this woman to point out this and use his family as a threat.

"How many years have you held this position? How many auctions have you participated in? How many girls and families have been broken up because of it? Why are those who enjoy the blood-stained money you've earned innocent?"

"You should have known this day would come when you were enjoying the wealth you earned with blood. Finding the location will only take some effort, but I guarantee your family will go to hell with you."

Words filled with chilling killing intent emanated from Matthew's mouth, and the golden light emanating from his fingertips shone even brighter and became increasingly violent.

The golden light shone on Clement's face, leaving him stunned.

After a long silence, Clement couldn't take it anymore and spoke dejectedly.

“Saint-Gran, that place is a private club we built. There’s a basement there specifically used to imprison and detain the girls who are transported here for auction.”

"I'll tell you anything else you want me to say. I only have one request: give me some time to let my family leave France."

"You made a smart choice."

The night in Paris is more like a bloody night, and some people are destined to die on this night.

These people are not ordinary individuals; they are billionaires from various countries.

They arrived in Paris excitedly to participate in the auction and buy the girl of their dreams. Unfortunately, these billionaires were met with death. The terrible Grim Reaper silently took their lives and stole their wealth in the darkness of night.

They are destined to go to hell with despair and doubt.

Matthew, who orchestrated all of this, was enjoying this luxury on a wealthy man's yacht while listening to Francis Nighy's report.

Francis Nighy was Reicher's colleague; the two had served together in the Army's 101st Special Investigations Unit and were each other's most trusted partners. After retiring, this maverick woman went on to work as a security consultant.

They are very professional in their work.

Nigley, who has been in this industry for many years, has a wide network of connections.

For example, in this case, through torture, nearly a billion dollars of assets obtained from those billionaires were transferred and subsequently laundered.

In 2006, one billion dollars was already an astronomical figure.

These are all cash flows. As for the real estate and other fixed assets of the wealthy, Matthew didn't touch them.

These fixed assets are too troublesome to handle and are easy to trace.

"The money has been transferred to more than 30 hidden overseas accounts and then further distributed through subsequent transfers. The money laundering process may take more than a year."

"If you need it urgently, I can help you launder 100 million within two months."

“Those girls were also sent away by our people through other channels.”

During the conversation, Matthew stood up from the luxurious sofa, took out a bottle of expensive whiskey from the liquor cabinet, poured it into two thick-bottomed glasses, handed one to Negri, clinked glasses with her, took a sip, smacked his lips, and thought it was just so-so.

"continue."

Matthew gestured, and Negri took a sip of whiskey, nodded, and smiled, saying, "These girls come from other sources, as well as local sources, from a small gang at the very bottom."

“I investigated that gang. They speak Albanian, are from Zoppaga, a den of scum. Even Russian gangs keep their distance from this trash. The boss is called Marco Hoxha. This gang specializes in trafficking women.”

"The usual trick is to offer women from emerging Eastern European countries to work as maids and nannies in the West to countries such as Yugoslavia, Romania, and Bulgaria. Once they are smuggled over, they sell virgins at high prices, and force non-virgins to become addicted to drugs and become prostitutes. Later, they found that it was more economical to directly kidnap girls who were traveling."

"Looks like we're not done yet tonight," Matthew said, his voice icy.

Negri shrugged. She knew it, and at the same time, she grew to appreciate the boy with the strange powers in front of her even more. She liked the boy's personality.

"Yeah~ So, BOSS, when do we set off?"

"Now."

In the slums of Paris, the streets are dimly lit, with few and dim streetlights that barely illuminate the path.

In many places, there are no streetlights, and people can only rely on faint light from afar to find their way. The streets are narrow and winding, with dilapidated houses on both sides. The walls are covered with cracks and graffiti, and the traces of time are clearly visible.

Various sounds came from the streets and alleys: children playing, adults arguing, homeless people whispering, and police sirens in the distance.

Inside one of the old buildings, Marco Hoxha was in the second-floor living room, looking at a dozen girls with fear and dread on their faces, and a cruel smile appeared on his face.

He snapped his fingers, ordering his men to take the girls to a room, where they were to be injected with drugs and controlled using the old methods.

Amidst the girls' terrified cries and tugging, a blinding golden light suddenly burst forth in the living room.

Everyone instinctively closed their eyes and covered their faces with their hands.

Immediately afterwards, a strange whooshing sound came from the air.

Whoosh!!

Chapter Eleven: Looting and Making a Fortune (Seeking Monthly Tickets and Recommendations)

A fierce wind rushed by, and Marco Hoxha suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. He forced his eyes open despite the stinging pain, and in the blurry golden world, a figure seemed to dart past him like a ghost, moving so fast that only afterimages could be seen.

As the light dimmed and Marco Hoxha adjusted to the dizzying scene, the still clear image before his eyes, though blurry, left him stunned.

Because all of his dozen or so men in the living room had collapsed to the ground, and from their horribly twisted angles, it was clear that their necks had all been broken.

The girls were unharmed, covering their eyes and instinctively screaming in fear.

Of course, there was also a stranger standing in front of them, wearing a black jacket, T-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap.

The light was too bright, and Marco Hoxha's vision remained blurry, making it difficult to make out the stranger's face. However, this did not stop him from cautiously reaching for the gun he carried on his waist.

However, just as his hand touched the gun handle tucked into his waistband, a finger pressed against his forehead, causing him to stiffen and break out in a cold sweat.

The fear that rose unconsciously within him was like a tidal wave engulfing him; at this moment, he felt only oppression and suffocation.

Marco Hoxha was never short of ruthlessness. Growing up in a gang family, bloodshed and brutality were ingrained in his genes, and he was not afraid of death.

Pain can turn a tough guy into a sissy, unless he has faith.

Marko Hoxha had no faith, or his faith was to plunder wealth through various violent means.

The stranger before him had killed more than a dozen of his men in an instant using incomprehensible means. He was powerful, mysterious, and possessed a kind of biological instinct that suppressed him, causing fear to spread uncontrollably within him.

"What do you want? I can give you anything."

He tried to persuade the other party to spare him by offering them benefits, but what he received in return was death.

A sharp pain shot through his brow, and darkness engulfed his consciousness. He died without ever seeing what the person who killed him looked like.

He couldn't understand why the other person wanted to kill him.

Bang! !

The body lay sprawled on the ground. The girls, having adjusted to the light, stared in horror at the figure's back. The sight of the corpses scattered on the ground was indeed quite visually impactful for them.

"Hey girls, do you mind if I blindfold you?"

A slightly hoarse voice broke the silence. The girls looked over and saw a woman wearing a green aviator jacket and jeans, her face obscured by a mask, waving her blindfold.

"Please, please don't hurt us."

"We're here to rescue you, of course we won't hurt you. Wear it and we'll take you home. Cooperate a little, get some sleep and forget about this experience."

Although the girls were scared, they were taken away without resistance.

Standing by the window, watching several vans drive away with the innocent girls, the woman removed her mask, revealing Negri's face.

“There are also girls being controlled in the room, who unfortunately have become addicted to drugs, and are deeply addicted.”

Nigley looked at the boy's profile, his tone filled with regret and anger.

Those girls' lives have been ruined.

Even if they manage to return home, the triple torment of drug addiction—psychological, physical, and emotional—makes it impossible for these girls to reintegrate into society, ultimately leading them to self-destruction.

"People's bottom line can always be lowered to an unimaginable degree."

Matthew sighed softly, then turned and left.

He sympathized with the girls, but the best outcome would be for Negri to send them to rehab. Whether they succumb to despair or break free and embrace a new life, it was all up to them. Matthew was neither a saint nor a god; he couldn't easily save everyone.

Matthew was very satisfied with the efficiency and ability that Negri displayed this time, so he officially hired Negri.

Negri didn't know why, perhaps she was satisfied with the qualities and methods Matthew had shown in the Paris incident, or perhaps it was because of her relationship with Reichel, but she readily accepted the offer.

As a former member of a special military investigation team, she possesses both an elite mind and physical skills.

She can't compare to a monster, but her experience and knowledge are exactly what Matthew needs.

The billion dollars that Paris gained this time, once completely laundered, will ideally amount to less than seven hundred million.

It takes time.

He didn't intend to enjoy the money as wealth; instead, he planned to use it as start-up capital. In this day and age, this amount of money is considerable, but it's neither a lot nor a little. He needs to decide where to use the money based on the circumstances.

Ideally, he could purchase a legally qualified laboratory and hire scientists worldwide to work on research into nutritional supplements.

Matthew, however, was in no hurry to do so.

Nigley will investigate and contact scientists around the world to facilitate the formation of a research team in the future. As for nutritional supplements, their technological content is neither high nor low.

Matthew's nutritional needs far exceed those of the average person, exceeding ten times the average person's requirements.

In particular, as one's physique grows stronger, the nutrients and energy required for the medicine must also increase accordingly.

Building a dedicated research team for him is not difficult, but purchasing equipment and recruiting scientists takes time, especially since top biological scientists are not easy to recruit.

After all, such scientists usually have their own research projects, and ordinary laboratories are not favored.

Top talents are basically snapped up by the upper echelons.

However, Matthew did know a top genius, a genius in biology, medical chemistry, and other fields, not Tony Stark, that playboy.

His name is Hank McCoy, he is a mutant, and he is currently a teacher at the Xavier's Teen Mutant Academy.

Nickname: Beast.

Although he is a mutant, he is definitely one of the smartest people on Earth, and with his abilities, he can indeed formulate a nutritional supplement suitable for him.

There's a problem here, though, and that's Professor X, Charles.

Regardless of his character, Professor X is undoubtedly one of the most powerful telepaths in the world, simply in terms of ability. He can read a person's entire life memories in an instant and manipulate minds, among other things.

Matthew wasn't sure if the old guy would invade his memories the moment he saw him.

His memories of his past life and the system are absolute secrets, and he certainly cannot let others know about them.

Compared to ordinary people, Matthew's physical growth also led to his mental strength being far beyond that of ordinary people. However, compared to telepaths like Professor X, he did not feel that he could resist mental intrusion.

Matthew wouldn't gamble on something like this; Professor X wouldn't easily read other people's memories, and he wouldn't be so virtuous.