66: ungrateful

The Boeing 747 passenger plane, broken into two sections, lay like a dead giant whale between the mud and shattered rocks.

The original first-class cabin had been violently cut open and converted into the so-called "Hall of Assembly."

Just when the situation had reached a stalemate, Su Chen received an invitation from Thunder Owl, and he chose to attend the meeting to see what tricks the other party had up his sleeve.

Su Chen ducked his head and squeezed through the breach in the cabin. The red carpet underfoot had long since lost its original color, saturated with years of mold and unknown viscous liquids, letting out a grating "squish" when stepped upon.

The air inside was no better; the char of roasted meat mixed with cheap cologne and a heavy smell of blood, a stench so potent it made one's scalp tingle.

At the end of the cabin, the original cockpit panel had been removed, replaced by a wide boss chair draped with a mottled tiger skin.

Thunder Owl sat upon it, imposing and relaxed.

This man certainly had the makings of a hegemon.

His upper body was bare, bronze muscles bulging like granite. A black dragon tattoo spanned his left shoulder, its head resting exactly on his collarbone, rising and falling menacingly with his breath.

Two rows of heavily armed thugs stood on either side. Although their muzzles were lowered, their fingers never left the trigger guards.

Su Chen's gaze did not linger on the firearms, but instead fell upon Thunder Owl's feet.

A woman was kneeling there, carefully wiping Thunder Owl's mud-and-blood-stained military boots with a fine silk handkerchief.

Her hair was messy, and she only wore a loose men's shirt, revealing large areas of blue and purple bruises.

She might have been a beauty once, but now she was like a dog with a broken spine, mechanically repeating the wiping motion as if it were her only value in this world.

This was the apocalypse, stripping human dignity cleaner than an onion.

"Boss Su, is it? Sit."

Thunder Owl casually grabbed a piece of rare steak from the table and stuffed it into his mouth, blood dripping from the corner of his lips as he chewed.

His murky, yellowish-brown eyes stared intently at Su Chen, like a butcher sizing up meat on a block. "I heard you're a craftsman? Then let's get straight to the point."

With a wave of his large hand, a subordinate slapped a pre-drafted list onto the greasy long table.

"First, I want the formula and the source of raw materials for that 'Yang Yuan Powder' that can cure corpse poison. Second, I'll take your car; it's well-modified, and I don't mind. Third..."

Thunder Owl casually smashed a half-chewed beef bone onto the woman's head. The woman trembled in pain but dared not make a sound. He grinned, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth.

"I heard you have a girl named Lin Mengyao in your car? Have her stay here and become my Madam of the Fortress."

"These terms aren't too much, are they? This counts as a powerful alliance; you'll take the second seat in this market from now on."

Integration plan?

This was clearly stripping someone bare and then demanding they spit out the bones.

The air inside the entire cabin seemed to instantly freeze, the temperature dropping to freezing point.

The burly men around them silently racked their gun bolts, the crisp metallic clang especially jarring in the confined space.

Su Chen acted as if he hadn't heard the threats, his gaze sweeping over the glass of red wine that had already been decanted on the table.

"'82 Lafite? The bottle looks real, but why does the wine coating on the glass look a little green?"

He picked up the wine glass and gently swirled it.

His nostrils twitched slightly, detecting an extremely faint scent of bitter almonds mixed with the sourness of the tannins.

This Thunder Owl looked crude, but he wasn't simple-minded. The dose of neurotoxin here was probably enough to poison an elephant.

"What? Boss Su isn't showing respect?"

Thunder Owl leaned forward, radiating intense pressure.

"How could that be? For Boss Thunder to offer wine, he must think highly of me."

Su Chen curled his lips into an amused arc, tilted his head back, and drained the cup of poisoned wine in one gulp.

The cold liquid slid down his esophagus into his stomach. Before the deadly poison could take effect, the Extreme Yang Sacred Body residing in Su Chen's Dantian instinctively began to circulate.

His stomach instantly turned into a high-temperature furnace. The golden Sacred Yang True Qi spun wildly clockwise, and the lethal neurotoxin was forcefully vaporized the moment it came into contact with the True Qi.

A few seconds later, a layer of fine sweat beaded on Su Chen's forehead, carrying a faint scent of chemical agents.

"Good wine, quite potent."

Su Chen's expression remained unchanged. He inverted the empty stemmed glass and even smacked his lips, as if still savoring the taste.

The malicious grin on Thunder Owl's face froze.

He had personally watched his subordinate administer the poison. Did this kid have a stomach made of iron?

"You've been given respect, yet you reject it!"

Rage instantly clouded his judgment. Thunder Owl violently flipped the long table, the solid wood weighing hundreds of pounds flying out like a sheet of paper.

Using the chaos, he lunged forward like a cannonball leaving the barrel, instantly closing the distance to Su Chen.

The force of his punch tore through the air, creating a piercing boom.

The punch shot straight for Su Chen's throat, a standard underground black-market killing move—fast, precise, and ruthless, without any unnecessary flair.

If it were an ordinary Awakened One, even a strength-type enhancer, this punch would have ended him right there.

But Su Chen didn't dodge, or rather, his evasive movement was so slight it was almost negligible.

Just as the calloused fist was about to touch his Adam's apple, Su Chen's upper body subtly slid two inches to the left.

Close-quarters striking, Silk Reeling Force.

Su Chen's right hand was like a boneless viper, winding up Thunder Owl's thick forearm, his five fingers suddenly clamping down on the "Neiguan Acupoint" on the inside of the opponent's wrist.

"Break!"

The Sacred Yang True Qi, accumulated within his body for a long time, was no longer a gentle warm current; instead, it transformed into high-explosive ordnance, forcefully pouring into Thunder Owl's Meridians through the acupoint.

"Ugh—!"

A muffled groan of pain.

Thunder Owl felt as if a red-hot steel bar had been shoved into his left arm; the terrifying heat instantly incinerated his nerve conduction.

His proud, bronzed muscles visibly turned crimson and swollen, even emitting a burnt smell.

His massive body lost balance, forcing Thunder Owl onto one knee, the tremendous impact creating a large crater in the rotten carpet on the floor.

Just as the surrounding gunmen were about to raise their weapons, Su Chen had already retreated to a safe distance, even leisurely brushing non-existent dust from his cuff.

His current positioning was meticulous; the kneeling Thunder Owl perfectly blocked the best firing angles from the rear of the cabin.

This was the "blind spot" the blind girl had mentioned previously.

"Boss Thunder, don't get so angry, it's bad for your liver."

Su Chen pulled a delicate small porcelain bottle from his pocket, poured out a golden 'Yang Yuan Powder' pill, and tossed it casually beside Thunder Owl's still-twitching left hand.

The pill rolled a few times on the filthy floor and stopped right in front of Chen Wei's knees.

"This stuff can not only cure corpse poison but also treat injuries, and it can even help a man regain his vigor."

Su Chen's voice was not loud, but it clearly echoed throughout the entire cabin.

"In three days, I will publicly auction this in the market square. I won't limit the quantity; as long as you can afford the price, anyone can buy it."

As soon as these words were spoken, the eyes of the previously murderous gunmen instantly changed.

In the apocalypse, this kind of miraculous medicine that could save lives and strengthen the body was a second life.

If Thunder Owl monopolized it, they would only be dogs.

But if it was a public auction... who wouldn't want to hold a life-saving trump card?

Thunder Owl clutched his crippled left arm, cold sweat pouring down like a waterfall.

Not only had he lost face, but the loyalty of his men was instantly shaken by Su Chen's seemingly casual remark.

"Why are you all standing around! Kill him!"

Thunder Owl roared hysterically.

But those few seconds of hesitation were already fatal.

Su Chen sneered, turned, and walked out, his back radiating extreme arrogance.

He bet that this group wouldn't dare to shoot, because the temptation of the 'Yang Yuan Powder' was far greater than Thunder Owl's rapidly collapsing prestige.

Thunder Owl glared venomously at Su Chen's retreating figure, then looked at his subordinates whose eyes were darting nervously. Gritting his teeth, he staggered toward the hidden dark door behind the boss chair, supported by two loyal confidants.

That led to the core armory beneath the market, which was his final trump card.