41: Chapter 41 The Million-Slave Camp in Los Santos!

On the holographic screen, the churning seawater was still emitting thick white smoke.

A billion-dollar Aegis destroyer had just evaporated into thin air.

The suite was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Anna's legs went weak, and she collapsed onto the Persian rug.

Her pride and joy, the Genesis AI.

In the face of this destructive beam of light from outer space, it was nothing more than a laughable toy.

Only now did she realize what kind of existence she was truly facing.

This was no mere warlord or terrorist.

This was a god who possessed technology several eras ahead of Earth.

Chu Feng leaned back on the leather sofa.

Alice sat obediently on Chu Feng's lap, her fair arms wrapped around the man's neck.

A large men's shirt slipped from her rounded shoulders, revealing a vast expanse of snow-white skin.

She pressed her face against Chu Feng's chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, feeling incredibly safe.

Chu Feng's gaze fell upon Anna, who was collapsed on the floor.

"What, scared?" Chu Feng curled his lips.

Anna shivered all over and hurriedly crawled over on her hands and knees.

This tech queen of Silicon Valley was wearing a silver-gray professional suit today.

Her pencil skirt clung tightly to her thighs, and black silk stockings encased her straight legs.

She crawled to Chu Feng's feet, lowered her head, and tremblingly unbuttoned her jacket.

Shedding it piece by piece.

Mimicking Evelyn, she pressed her face against the leg of Chu Feng's suit pants.

"Master, from now on, Anna is just a dog by your side. I will do whatever you command."

Her voice was laced with tears, yet it carried the submissiveness of someone who had completely resigned to her fate.

Chu Feng reached out and lifted Anna's delicate chin.

"I'm keeping you in the underground bunker to watch over some servers for me."

Chu Feng said in a flat tone, "But back in this room, you are just like the others—a woman who serves me. Understand?"

"Understood." Anna closed her eyes, and a tear slid down the corner of her eye.

Chu Feng patted her cheek with satisfaction.

...

Washington.

The Pentagon's underground strategic command center.

All the generals and politicians slumped in their chairs like wooden statues.

The white-haired old man stared fixedly at the empty sea on the screen, his chest heaving violently.

"Space-based weapons... He actually has space-based weapons..."

The Secretary of Defense swallowed hard, his voice trembling, "Mr. President, the 7th Fleet just sent an emergency report. Their radar systems are completely paralyzed, and they cannot lock onto the source of the attack. The fleet commander is requesting a full retreat."

One shot to evaporate a destroyer.

This war is impossible to fight.

If Chu Feng wanted to, he could even strike the roof of The White House directly with that beam of light.

"Retreat! Have all warships pull back five hundred nautical miles!"

The white-haired old man roared hysterically.

He smashed the microphone in front of him.

"Blockade all roads and waters around Los Santos! Do not let him out! Just let him be a local tyrant in that city!"

The politicians compromised.

Under the crushing weight of absolute military force, the USA government could only watch helplessly as their largest economic hub was carved away.

Los Santos, dawn had broken.

Sunlight shone upon this super-metropolis with a population of ten million.

The streets lacked the usual bustling traffic, filled only with the pungent smell of blood and the stench of rotting garbage.

Chu Feng's million-strong army had completely seized control of every block.

The gold bars and jewelry in the wealthy district had been looted clean, and trucks loaded with hard currency drove into the underground garage of the Global Financial Center.

Chu Feng sat before the floor-to-ceiling window on the top floor, looking down at the city beneath his feet.

The wealthy had been drained dry; next, it was the turn of the millions of common civilians.

Since he wanted to build an impregnable war fortress here, he needed endless labor.

Chu Feng connected to the tactical command network.

"Pass down the order."

Chu Feng's voice reached the minds of the 100,000 bandits across the city.

"Drive all the young and able-bodied men in the city out of their homes. Using the Global Financial Center as the center point, level the buildings for a five-kilometer radius. Build me an explosion-proof wall thirty meters high."

"The elderly and women are responsible for clearing the ruins and corpses in the city."

"Work eighteen hours a day. Those who finish their work get a bottle of dirty water and half a piece of moldy bread."

"Anyone who dares to slack off or resist is to be executed on the spot. Hang the corpses on the streetlights."

The order was issued.

The entire Los Santos instantly transformed into the largest slave camp in human history.

The black-clad bandits, wielding assault rifles, kicked open the doors of the civilians' homes.

"Get out! Everyone get to the streets and get to work!"

Millions of civilians, their legs weak from hunger, were driven onto the streets.

A financial analyst who once earned a million-dollar annual salary on Wall Street, wearing a tattered suit, his hands covered in bloody blisters.

He was carrying heavy steel bars with a dozen gang members, struggling as he walked toward the construction site.

Standing nearby was a Mech Bandits member wearing a skull mask, holding a six-barreled Gatling gun.

"Move faster! Are you looking to die by moving so slowly!"

The bandit kicked the analyst in the back.

The analyst fell heavily onto the gravel-filled ground, his knees bleeding profusely.

But he dared not resist, scrambling to his feet and continuing to carry the steel bars forward.

Because he knew that if he resisted even once, his head would immediately be blown into a rotten watermelon.

To drink a sip of water at night and to avoid starving to death, these USA citizens who usually shouted about human rights and freedom were now more obedient than the most docile livestock.

The thirty-meter-high explosion-proof wall, built by millions of free laborers, rose at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Every day, people worked themselves to death at the construction site.

The corpses were casually tossed into trucks and transported outside the city to be burned.

Billowing black smoke blanketed the sky over Los Santos.

It was truly a living hell.

The top floor of the Global Financial Center.

The air conditioner blew a stream of temperature-controlled cold air.

Chu Feng looked at the bustling construction site on the screen and curled his lips.

Capitalists need disguises to suck blood, but he did not.

He had guns, cannons, and space-based satellites.

The logistical consumption of his 100,000-strong army was staggering. He would let the flesh and blood of the city's millions serve as fuel for his army's operations.

"Master, have some fruit."

Stussy knelt beside him, using a small silver fork to pick up a piece of chilled watermelon, carefully bringing it to Chu Feng's lips.

Chu Feng ate the watermelon.

Beside him, Anna was sitting on the carpet, her hands working on the holographic keyboard.

She had completely adapted to her new identity.

"Master, the gold in the underground bunker has been fully inventoried. A total of 512 tons." Anna looked up, her eyes filled with submissiveness.

Chu Feng nodded.

Another massive amount of Wealth Points had been credited.

This gold was enough for him to splurge in the black market mall for a while longer.

However, now that Los Santos was completely blockaded and external threats were temporarily resolved, Chu Feng did not intend to spend this money immediately.

He would save it for self-defense to deal with any underhanded tricks the USA might play next.

"Well done."

Chu Feng reached out, grabbed Stussy's hair, and pulled her toward him.