705: Chapter 70: A Bounty of One Hundred Million US Dollars

Ning Ke's voice no longer held the slightest hint of laziness, leaving only the shrewdness and efficiency of a businessman.

This was the rule established by Shen Yan and Chen Guangke.

In their world, problems that could be solved with money never required wasting words.

Hanging up the call with Ning Ke, Chen Guangke picked up a second phone.

The interface of this phone was purely in Russian, and the background featured a falcon spreading its wings.

He entered a string of complex commands and connected to a satellite-encrypted channel.

"Falcon, it's me."

A raspy, wary voice came through the static.

"What do you want?"

"The Buran, Type 11D122 engine. I need all the original blueprints."

The other party instantly fell into dead silence.

After a long while, the voice spoke again, carrying a trace of unbelievable chill.

"Are you crazy? That's a national treasure of a dead empire. It's in the deepest vault of the National Aviation Museum."

Chen Guangke's tone didn't change in the slightest.

"That's your problem. Name a price."

"It's not a matter of money. This is impossible."

Chen Guangke said indifferently.

"If my boss wants something, even if it's buried in a grave, you have to dig it up for me."

He switched back to Chinese; these words seemed directed at the person on the other end, and also at himself.

Another long silence followed from the other side.

Finally, the raspy voice seemed to make a decision.

"Five million dollars, cash. Also, you owe me a big favor. A very big one. I don't know when I'll have you repay it."

"Deal."

The communication was cut.

Chen Guangke's back was already slightly damp with sweat.

He knew that what he had just activated was a smuggling line walking on the edge of a knife.

But he had no time to ponder the consequences.

He picked up the third phone.

The interface of this phone was the simplest, with only a login portal resembling a forum.

This place had no name.

But in the circles of the world's top hackers and cryptographers, it was known as the 'Turing Market'.

Currency did not circulate here, only wisdom and challenges.

Chen Guangke skillfully logged into an ID; the ID's name was simple—'Yan'.

This was Shen Yan's private account.

Without any superfluous words, he directly posted a new thread in the public bounty section.

[Title: $100 Million Bounty to Crack the 'Nine-Square Grid' Quantum Encryption Algorithm.]

[Content: See attachment for the algorithm model. The first individual or team to provide a complete, verifiable cracking approach will receive a $100 million reward. Funds are held in escrow by UBS and will be paid out immediately.]

The moment the post went up, the entire 'Turing Market' exploded.

The 'Nine-Square Grid' algorithm was a conceptual quantum encryption technology that had only appeared in recent years, proposed by an anonymous genius, claiming to be impossible to crack with existing computing power.

Countless top experts had tried, all returning empty-handed.

Now, someone was actually offering a hundred million dollars to crack it?

"Is this a joke? Which Middle Eastern oil tycoon has too much money to burn?"

"A hundred million dollars? Am I seeing this right? That's higher than the Nobel Prize!"

"'Yan'? Who is this ID? I've never seen it before."

"Who cares who it is! Brothers, get to work! Whether we achieve financial freedom in this lifetime depends on this wave!"

For a moment, the entire 'Turing Market' was in a frenzy.

The smartest brains in the world were completely ignited by this hundred million dollar bounty.

Only after finishing all this did Chen Guangke let out a long sigh of relief.

He looked at the night view of T City outside the window, feeling as though he had fought a world war in just ten short minutes.

And the commander of it all, Shen Yan, was currently on his way home.

He even took the time to call his daughter, Youyou, listening to her recite newly learned ancient poems in her babyish voice.

It was as if the person who had stirred up the world's winds was not him at all.

The first day passed quickly.

Inside Phantom Power Studios, everyone was on edge.

Wu Ya stayed in the office all day, her phone screen lighting up and darkening, but she never received any message from Shen Yan.

She began to doubt if she had trusted the wrong person.

Just as she was about to despair, Chen Guangke's call came in.

"Wu Ya, are you with President Shen?"

"No, President Shen didn't come to the office. What's wrong?" Wu Ya's heart leapt into her throat.

Chen Guangke pondered for a moment.

"Have him take the call; there's news from Ning Ke's side."

Wu Ya immediately dialed Shen Yan's phone and transferred the call to Chen Guangke.

She didn't hang up, but instead held her breath and listened.

"Yan Zi, it's been found," Chen Guangke's voice came through.

"The 'di ke na' cello is currently in London, belonging to a young cellist named Emma Richter."

"Because of an accident, a fine crack appeared on the neck of the cello, requiring the world's top restoration master to intervene."

"I contacted the Violin Makers Association in Cremona, Italy, and they recommended a master named Giuseppe. The restoration fee, plus the master's appearance fee, totals three million euros."

"I've already sent the money to Miss Emma as an anonymous donation through an offshore foundation."

"She should receive the news very soon."

Listening to the contents of the call, a series of question marks popped up in Wu Ya's head.

Emma Richter?

Three million euros?

Just to fix a cello?

What did this have to do with the printer?

She felt her cognition being torn apart and restructured over and over again.

On the other end of the phone, Shen Yan's voice was so calm that not a single ripple could be heard.

"Got it."

"Next item."

He didn't even seem to blink at the three-million-euro expense.

The second day.

The bounty post on 'Turing Market' had already become headline news in the global tech world.

Countless geniuses went without sleep, trying to conquer that natural chasm.

Meanwhile, in an underground warehouse somewhere in Ukraine.

The man codenamed 'Kestrel' looked at the yellowed blueprints before him, carefully packed, and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

He knew that once this shipment went out, he would become public enemy number one in the entire Eastern European intelligence community.

But he still dialed the encrypted number.

"The goods are on the way. An old freighter, destination Panama."

"Very good."

The news was passed through layers, eventually converging on Chen Guangke.

Chen Guangke reported to Shen Yan once again.

After listening, Shen Yan simply replied indifferently.

"Have An Ran's people go and pick up the goods."

An Ran, the mysterious partner who had once invested in Shen Yan—her influence extended far beyond the business world.

Wu Ya, listening from the side, was already numb.

She no longer tried to think about the logic behind it.

She was just like a spectator, watching Shen Yan mobilize global resources in ways she couldn't understand to play a game of chess she couldn't comprehend at all.

The third day, the agreed-upon deadline.

The atmosphere in the studio was strained to the extreme.

Wu Ya had barely slept all night, her eyes bloodshot.

At exactly ten o'clock in the morning, her phone rang.

It was Shen Yan.

"Come to my office."