937: Chapter 932 Fortune Lies in Peril

Ten hours later.

France, Le Havre.

It was still raining at De Gaulle Airport, the cold rain washing over the tarmac.

Shen Yan stepped out of the cabin, pulling his trench coat tighter around himself.

The air here was permeated with a mixture of old perfume and mustiness, the characteristic decay of an established capitalist empire.

Several black mercedes-benz cars were already waiting by the runway.

Wu Ya, dressed in a sharp trench coat and holding a tablet, was quickly reporting the situation.

"Mr. Shen, based on the clues you provided, we have locked onto an underground bar called 'Nightingale' in the Thirteenth Arrondissement."

"That area is a notorious no-man's-land, heavily populated by illegal immigrants and gang members."

"Are you sure we need to go there personally?"

Worry laced Wu Ya's tone.

Shen Yan was now worth trillions, the eye of the storm in the global tech circle; any minor accident could trigger a stock market tsunami.

Going to that kind of slum was practically gambling with his life.

"Fortune is sought in danger."

Shen Yan got into the car, shutting out the cold rain.

"Besides, some business cannot be discussed while wearing a suit."

The motorcade left the airport, heading not toward the bustling Avenue des Champs-Élysées, but turning into a dark, narrow old road.

As the scenery outside the windows grew increasingly dilapidated and the graffiti on the walls multiplied, the luxurious sense of romance vanished completely.

In its place were piles of garbage and vagrants with sinister looks lurking by the roadside.

The Nightingale Bar was located at the end of a dead-end street.

Half of its neon sign was broken, resembling a monstrous, blind beast barely clinging to life on the rainy night.

Shen Yan got out of the car.

Chen Guangke, flanked by four bodyguards, stayed close to him, their hands resting near their waists.

"Brother Yan, the smell here is too strong."

Chen Guangke covered his nose, showing clear disgust.

The air was thick with the mixed scent of cheap tobacco and marijuana.

Shen Yan said nothing, simply pushing open the oil-stained wooden door.

The clamorous heavy metal music instantly surged out like a tide.

The bar was a smoky, chaotic mess: tattooed thugs, heavily made-up streetwalkers, and vendors hawking unknown powders were packed together.

The appearance of Shen Yan and his group was like a flock of sheep intruding upon a wolf pack.

The previously noisy bar fell silent for a moment.

Countless greedy, vigilant, and malicious gazes were cast upon them.

A well-dressed Eastern man with an extraordinary aura was practically a walking wallet here.

"Hey, yellow monkey, took a wrong turn?"

A burly white man with a brutish face, reeking of alcohol, walked over carrying a bottle.

His bare arm bore a massive Nazi emblem.

Chen Guangke stepped forward, blocking Shen Yan, and cursed the man to 'get lost' in broken French.

The brute sneered, raising the bottle as if to smash it down.

Bang!

A dull gunshot rang out.

The bottle in the brute's hand shattered into pieces.

Screams immediately erupted throughout the bar.

The captain of the bodyguards behind Shen Yan retracted the silenced pistol, his expression blank.

The brute was stunned stiff, his crotch instantly soaking wet.

"I don't like noise."

Shen Yan's voice was not loud, but it was clearly audible in the dead silence of the bar.

He didn't even glance at the brute, walking straight to the bar counter.

The bartender behind the counter was a one-eyed man, his hand freezing while wiping a glass.

Shen Yan pulled out a thick stack of Euros from his coat, perhaps ten thousand, and casually tossed it onto the liquor-stained counter.

"Find someone for me."

The one-eyed man swallowed hard, his gaze greedily fixed on the stack of money.

"Who?"

"A Ning."

A flicker of surprise crossed the one-eyed man's solitary eye.

He didn't take the money immediately, instead cautiously sizing up Shen Yan.

"Who are you to that mute girl?"

Mute?

Shen Yan caught the keyword.

It seemed the intelligence was correct: the little princess of the arrogant Rothschild Family had not only lost her memory but had also become mute.

"I am here to take her away."

Shen Yan threw down another stack of money.

"Unless you want this establishment to become ruins tonight."

The one-eyed man's hand trembled.

That shot just now had proven that these Easterners were not to be trifled with.

He pointed toward a small door at the back of the bar.

"She's washing dishes in the back kitchen."

Shen Yan turned and headed toward the back kitchen.

Before he even entered, he heard the sound of ceramic plates shattering, followed by a woman's sharp cursing.

"You idiot! You can't even hold a plate steady!"

"Pay up! Even docking your entire month's wages won't cover these broken plates!"

Shen Yan pushed the door open.

In the narrow, greasy kitchen, a small, slender girl was kneeling on the ground, frantically gathering the shards.

Her hands were cut by sharp ceramic fragments, and blood mixed with sewage flowed all over the floor.

A fat middle-aged woman was pointing at the girl's nose and yelling, spitting saliva onto her face.

The girl was wearing an obviously oversized, old T-shirt, her hair dry and yellow, messily tied back.

But Shen Yan recognized her instantly.

Even though ten years of time had stripped away her noble air, even though life had tortured her into an inhuman state,

Those eyes.

Those eyes that maintained a rare amber color even in terror were identical to the one in the intelligence photo.

Alice Rothschild, heiress to a fortune of hundreds of billions of Euros, was currently being trampled underfoot like a dog.

The fat woman was cursing vigorously when she suddenly felt a chill down her back. She turned around and saw Shen Yan standing at the doorway.

"Who are you people? Who let you in? Get out!"

Shen Yan ignored her.

He walked up to the girl and slowly squatted down.

His expensive handmade leather shoes stepped into the dirty sewage, but he didn't care in the slightest.

The girl flinched backward in fear, hugging her head, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She was afraid.

Afraid that this was another person coming to beat her.

Shen Yan took out a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.

"Wipe your hands."

The girl froze.

She cautiously looked at the handsome man through a gap in her messy hair.

This was the first time in ten years someone had offered her a handkerchief instead of a fist.

"Are you A Ning?"

Shen Yan asked in standard French.

The girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Do you want to leave this place?"

A glimmer of light flashed in the girl's eyes, but it quickly dimmed.

She pointed at the fat woman, then pointed at her own throat, making a gesture.

The meaning was that she owed the proprietress a lot of money, and since she couldn't speak, she couldn't go anywhere.

"She can't leave!"

The fat woman shrieked and rushed over like a sow protecting her food.

"She owes me thirty thousand Euros! Look at how many plates she's broken! And if I hadn't taken her in back then, she would have frozen to death on the streets!"

"Thirty thousand Euros?"

Shen Yan stood up, looking down at the woman.

"Guang Ke."

"Present."

"Give her fifty thousand."

Chen Guangke immediately pulled out several bundles of cash from his bag and threw them onto the woman's face as if tossing trash.

The fluttering banknotes instantly silenced the woman.

She scrambled on the floor to pick up the money, her greedy appearance revolting.

Shen Yan looked back at the girl.

"The debt is paid."

"Now, can you come with me?"