132: Chapter 132 Dead People Don't Need Savings Accounts

The wreckage of the helicopter was still burning, flames licking at the twisted aluminum alloy shell, making crackling, popping sounds.

Billowing black smoke rose up, as if wanting to poke a hole in the sky over this desert.

McLean lay in the shards of broken glass; his expensive handmade suit was soaked through with blood, turning a dark red.

One of his legs was bent at an eerie angle, with stark white bone shards piercing through the fabric and exposed to the air.

"Cough, cough..."

He coughed violently, each convulsion bringing up a mouthful of bloody foam mixed with fragments of internal organs.

But he couldn't care about the pain; his only remaining movable right hand trembled as he reached into his chest, clutching tightly onto that pocket-sized pistol no bigger than a palm.

It was his last straw, even if he couldn't even pull the trigger.

"Don't come over..." McLean's voice sounded like a broken bellows.

"Unit-734... the virus has already spread... only I have the antidote... kill me... and all of Texas will be buried with me..."

Chen Mo stood two meters in front of him.

The firelight reflected on his face; there was no emotional fluctuation in those eyes—neither anger nor the joy of a victor—calm as a stagnant pool.

"Is this your last testament?"

Chen Mo raised the M1911, the muzzle tilting slightly downward.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out.

McLean let out a shrill scream, and the wrist of his right hand clutching the pocket pistol exploded instantly.

Amidst the flying flesh and blood, the pocket pistol fell into the still-burning fuel.

"As for the virus," Chen Mo took a step forward, his leather shoe crushing a piece of the helicopter's windshield.

"That's something the CDC should worry about. As for me, I'm only responsible for sending you to meet God."

"You lunatic..." McLean twitched all over from the pain, his entire face twisted into a knot.

"I have money... I have 200 million USD in bearer bonds... at the Swiss Bank... and shares in Lone Star Energy..."

He was like a drowning man, desperately trying to grab onto any piece of driftwood.

"As long as you let me go... all of this will be yours... no one turns their back on money, right? We can cooperate... I can be your dog..."

Chen Mo pulled a black digital recorder from his pocket, his thumb gently pressing the play button.

After the crackling sound of static, McLean's signature husky voice echoed beside the raging fire.

"...Get rid of that bitch, fake it as an accident... As for that Chen Mo, I'm going to skin him and hang him on a flagpole..."

This was the call record Jack intercepted two days ago.

McLean's expression froze.

Chen Mo turned off the recorder and tossed it into the nearby fire.

The plastic casing melted rapidly in the high heat, emitting a pungent, burnt smell.

"Listen, what great eloquence." Chen Mo squatted down, the muzzle pressing against McLean's cold, sweat-covered forehead.

"Too bad, I'm a person who holds grudges. And, your calculations were wrong."

McLean widened his eyes, the pitch-black muzzle reflected in his pupils.

"If I kill you, your money will still be mine." Chen Mo's voice was very soft, yet it pierced through the noisy sound of the surrounding fire.

"Your shares, your oil fields, even every bottle of wine you hid in the cellar, will all become Legacy. The dead do not need passbooks."

"No... you can't..."

A final rattling sound came from McLean's throat, his body trembling violently from extreme fear.

Chen Mo's finger rested on the trigger.

"In your next life, remember to stay away from the women of the Rockefeller family. And stay away from me, too."

Bang!

A burst of fire erupted from the muzzle.

The back of McLean's head exploded, red and white matter splattering onto the scorched grass behind him.

His body stiffened suddenly, then, like a pile of mud, it fell heavily back into the dust.

Those eyes were still wide open, staring in death.

[Ding!]

[Target confirmed dead.]

[Target Identity: Founder of Lone Star Energy / Texas underground arms dealer / extreme careerist.]

[Extracting "Legacy"...]

Chen Mo reached out and pressed his hand onto McLean's still-warm corpse.

He didn't extract memory fragments or skills as he usually did.

This time, a heat flow so massive it almost made him dizzy rushed into his body through his fingertips.

That feeling was like shoving an erupting volcano directly into his veins.

On his retina, golden light flickered crazily, almost exploding in his field of vision.

[Extraction successful!]

[Obtained Unique Concept Entry (Gold): Energy Tycoon.]

[Attribute: If you can see the veins underground, you can grab the world by the throat. The holder possesses god-level intuition for energy sources like oil, natural gas, and minerals. Operating revenue for energy-related industries is forcibly increased by 200%.]

[Obtained Item Entry (Purple): Military Industry Production Line Blueprint (Incomplete).]

[Description: This is an unfinished dream, containing a war machine concept abandoned by The Pentagon but with immense potential.]

A golden entry.

Chen Mo took a deep breath, suppressing the surging blood in his chest.

This was the first time he had extracted an entry of this level.

If previous skills only turned him into a super soldier, then this [Energy Tycoon] was his ticket to becoming a capital giant.

"Boss." Footsteps came from behind.

Elizabeth was wearing a dust-covered tactical suit, holding a still-dripping tactical knife in her hand.

She didn't even glance at the corpse on the ground, only handing a clean towel to Chen Mo.

"The perimeter is cleared. Those sixty veterans are cleaning up the battlefield, leaving no survivors."

Chen Mo took the towel, wiped the blood splatters off his hands, and then threw the towel onto McLean's face, covering that face staring in death.

He fished a crushed pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, and held it in his mouth.

Snap. The lighter's flame flickered.

Chen Mo took a deep drag, the taste of nicotine mixed with the smell of gunpowder rushing into his lungs, allowing his tensed nerves to relax slightly.

"Notify Ava." He exhaled a smoke ring, watching the distant horizon gradually turning white.

"Tell her that the old thing blocking the way is dead. Now, it's time for her legal team to enter like sharks."

"Understood." Elizabeth nodded, turning to give a low order into her headset.

Just then, a line of system prompts jumped out in front of Chen Mo's eyes again.

[Ding! Detected that Concept Entry "Energy Tycoon (Gold)" has a strong resonance with System Function "Asset Halo".]

[Do you wish to consume 50,000 EXP to fuse them?]

[Warning: Fusion may cause "Asset Halo" to undergo irreversible mutation and evolution.]

Chen Mo's fingers holding the cigarette paused.

Mutation and evolution?

He looked at the mess everywhere, and at McLean, who was once arrogant and unyielding but was now just a warm corpse, a cold sneer curling the corner of his mouth.

"Fuse." He muttered in his heart.