107: Chapter 107 Lin Long's Wedding, Mihua Hotel

The red silk at the Mihua Grand Hotel stretched from the revolving door all the way to the street corner, resembling a flowing river of blood.

The morning sunlight filtered through the mist, gilding the red silk with a golden edge, yet it could not dispel the faint, pervasive air of murderous intent.

Dozens of armored vehicles were parked side-by-side on both sides of the hotel, their gun barrels wrapped in red cloth and their bodies adorned with gold-stamped "Double Happiness" characters; the collision of cold steel and festive red exuded a sense of absurd luxury.

Even more eye-catching were the soldiers standing beside the armored vehicles.

They wore black combat uniforms, tactical helmets, and camouflage face paint, their automatic rifles pointed downward, yet they still commanded a presence that made people dare not look them in the eye.

Most of these men had deep-set eyes and high nose bridges with fair skin, standing tall like pines; every move they made exuded the fierce courage of those long-tempered by the battlefield—anyone with a discerning eye could tell at a glance that these were not ordinary security guards, but true warriors who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

"Are those... members of the Reaper Mercenary Group?" A passing reporter held up their camera, their voice trembling.

"I've seen their emblem on the Middle Eastern battlefield, that skull on their arm!"

"The Reaper Mercenary Group? That legendary mercenary group that only recognizes money, not people, and dares to take orders even from the P5?"

The Reaper Mercenary Group was another mercenary team secretly cultivated by Lin Long.

Compared to the Shadow Mercenary Group, the Reaper Mercenary Group was more formal and legitimate, a recognized PMC that Lin Long had specifically obtained approval for through his connections at The Pentagon.

For this wedding, Lin Long was afraid that the Black Organization or some other force would come to cause trouble, so he specifically had the Reaper Mercenary Group transferred back from abroad.

As for why he didn't use the Shadow Mercenary Group, there were actually two reasons: First, the Shadow Mercenary Group was specifically established by Lin Long to do all kinds of dirty work.

Second, some members of the Shadow Mercenary Group had followed Lin Long as part of the Clown Organization, and if they were brought in and recognized, it would be bad, especially since Lin Long had caused the Tokyo riot under the identity of the Clown.

A colleague nearby gasped, "What exactly is the background of this son-in-law of the Suzuki Family, to be able to hire them as guards?"

"Didn't you look at the sky?" Someone pointed to the sky, their tone filled with awe. "Those are 'Apache' attack helicopters, standard equipment for the US Army's Delta Force! And they're being used to patrol a wedding?"

In the sky, five helicopters painted with red stripes were hovering at low altitude, the roar of their propellers making the air tremble.

Besides the "Double Happiness" character, the fuselages were stamped with a golden dragon emblem—the logo of the Lin Group, which at this moment acted like a silent declaration: This area is under my control.

The management of the Mihua Grand Hotel stood by the second-floor window, watching the display below, their faces pale.

"Manager, this... this is too exaggerated, right?" A waiter swallowed hard. "We've been closed for a week and lost nearly a hundred million yen. Looking at it now, is it worth it?"

The manager gave a bitter smile and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead: "Worth it? The boss said, even if they asked us to tear down the hotel and rebuild it, we still have to say it's worth it."

He still remembered the early morning a week ago when the boss called personally, his voice shaking like a sieve: "Shut down immediately! Clear out all the guests! Cooperate fully with Mr. Lin's wedding! If there is even the slightest mistake, everyone in this hotel will be fired!"

You have to know, their boss was a figure who had connections in both the underworld and the legitimate world worldwide, and even former prime ministers had to be polite when they saw him, yet he was so scared by a few phone calls from Lin Long that he flew back from overseas overnight to personally oversee the hotel's arrangements.

This kind of power could no longer be explained by just "being rich."

"Who exactly... is that Mr. Lin?" the waiter muttered to himself.

The manager shook his head, his eyes complex: "I don't know. But remember, the guests coming today, even if they are just serving tea, might be people you and I cannot afford to offend. Keep your eyes sharp, speak less, and do more."

At the hotel entrance, Suzuki Shiro was wearing a custom-made tuxedo with a Prime Minister's badge pinned to his chest, beaming as he shook hands with guests.

Beside him, Suzuki Tomoko was wearing a purple kimono, with exquisite makeup and a polite smile, though her eyes occasionally glanced toward the armed soldiers.

"Tomoko, look at those soldiers..." Suzuki Shiro lowered his voice, his tone carrying a hint of imperceptible seriousness.

"I just looked carefully; their tactical movements are even more standard than the elites of the Self-Defense Forces. And most of them have European faces; they don't look like local mercenaries from Japan."

Suzuki Tomoko followed his gaze; the soldiers were communicating in fluent English, their grenades hanging neatly at their waists, their fingers always placed near the triggers—a posture of being ready to fight at any moment.

"They are people from the 'Reaper'," she said softly, her tone certain.

"I've seen their profiles in an international security magazine. This group comes from Eastern Europe, and every one of them has dozens of lives on their hands. It's said that as long as they are paid, they dare to forcefully break into even the security details of heads of state."

Suzuki Shiro gasped: "Even the 'Reaper' listens to him? Has Lin Long recruited half of Europe's mercenaries?"

"Recruited is too strong, but it's definitely deep cooperation." Suzuki Tomoko's eyes flickered.

"Haven't you noticed? These people's equipment is even better than the regular army. That body armor is made of the latest materials and can block sniper rifle bullets; the guns in their hands are custom models from the German company HK, and the price is ridiculously high."

She paused and looked at the helicopters in the sky: "And those 'Apaches', without the tacit approval of the high-level officials in the US, who would dare to mobilize them?"

"Lin Long's connections in the US are probably deeper than we imagine."

Suzuki Shiro fell silent.

He suddenly remembered what Lin Long said when he first became Prime Minister: "Don't take all the benefits; leave some soup for others to drink."

At the time, he thought it was a warning, but now he realized it was a reminder—given Lin Long's power, if he really wanted to swallow all the benefits in Japan, the Suzuki Family wouldn't be able to stop him at all.

"But this is good too." Suzuki Tomoko suddenly smiled, her tone lighter.

"With such strong guards, today's wedding will definitely not have any trouble. Those guys hiding in the dark, even if they had the guts of the heavens, wouldn't dare to make a move under the noses of the 'Reaper' and the 'Apaches'."

She was referring to the remnants of the former Prime Minister's forces and the mysterious Black Organization.

Over the past six months, although they had been lying low on the surface, no one could guarantee that they wouldn't cause some commotion on an important occasion like a wedding.

There were also the people from the Clown Organization who had appeared before. You have to know that her eldest daughter's wedding banquet with the Tomizawa Financial Group was ruined by this group from the Clown Organization, and the core members of the Tomizawa Financial Group were wiped out on the spot.

She didn't want members of the Clown to appear at her youngest daughter's wedding.

Poor Suzuki Tomoko, she still didn't know that the extermination of the Tomizawa Financial Group was the work of her own eldest daughter and her good son-in-law.

Suzuki Shiro nodded, feeling much more at ease. He looked at the heavily armed soldiers and suddenly felt that his own Prime Minister's security detail was like playing house.

"Speaking of which, have our own people been arranged too?" he asked.

"Rest assured, they are all in place." Suzuki Tomoko said with a firm tone.

"People have been arranged in the hotel kitchen, parking lot, and fire exits. These people were raised by the family from childhood and are veterans who survived various battlefields in Africa, and they all have weapons."

This was the tacit understanding of the Zaibatsu.

On the surface, they were infinitely glorious, but in secret, they had to have enough military support. The Suzuki Family could stand in Japan for a hundred years, and it wasn't just relying on money—they had a secret training base in Hokkaido, supporting nearly a thousand armed personnel, and even had a few mortars passed down from World War II.

"That's good." Suzuki Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. "Today is a good day for Sonoko, and there cannot be any mishaps."

As they were speaking, a car horn sounded from afar.

A convoy of black Rolls-Royces slowly drove over; on the hood of the lead car stood a pure gold dragon-shaped mascot, shining so brightly in the sun that it made people unable to open their eyes.

"The convoy is here!" someone whispered. Suzuki Shiro and Suzuki Tomoko immediately straightened their clothes, wearing enthusiastic smiles on their faces.

The car door opened, and Lin Long stepped out.

He was wearing a white suit without a tie, his collar slightly open, revealing his robust muscles.

Behind him followed several bodyguards in black suits, one of whom was a blonde, blue-eyed woman with a bulging waist, obviously hiding a gun—this was clearly Vermouth in disguise; Vermouth had heard that her boss was getting married and, finding it fun, insisted on participating herself.

It took a lot of convincing for Lin Long to agree to let her disguise herself as his personal bodyguard to attend the wedding.

"Uncle, Aunt." Lin Long walked up, his smile gentle. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Not long, not long, we just arrived too." Suzuki Shiro hurriedly waved his hand, his gaze unable to help but sweep over Vermouth behind Lin Long, secretly shocked in his heart—this woman's eyes were even colder than those "Reaper" mercenaries.

"Where is Sonoko?" Lin Long asked.

"She's upstairs putting on makeup; girls are always a bit troublesome." Suzuki Tomoko said with a smile. "You go in and rest first; I'll have the butler brew you a pot of good tea."

Lin Long nodded, and just as he was about to walk inside, he suddenly stopped and looked toward the street corner in the distance. There were a few people in plain clothes acting suspiciously, holding cameras and secretly taking pictures.

Vermouth immediately understood and waved to the bodyguards behind her; a few bodyguards were about to step forward, but were stopped by Lin Long.

"No need," Lin Long said indifferently. "Let them take pictures. Without our consent, even if they submit the photos to the national newspaper, no one would dare to publish them."

His voice was not loud, but it carried an invisible pressure that made the paparazzi in the distance shiver inexplicably, the cameras in their hands almost dropping to the ground.

On the other side, Ghost, who was following Lin Long, nodded and said something into his headset.

Soon, a few "Reaper" mercenaries appeared behind the plainclothes men; although they didn't make a move, they followed like shadows, scaring them so much that they never dared to take pictures again and scurried away.

Suzuki Shiro saw all of this, and the last bit of doubt in his heart disappeared.

He suddenly understood why Lin Long dared to be so flamboyant—true power never needs to be hidden.

Just like these armored vehicles and helicopters, just like these mercenaries who can take lives at any time, their very existence is a form of deterrence.

"Let's go, Mr. Lin Long, let's go inside and wait for Sonoko." Suzuki Shiro made a gesture of invitation, his tone much more respectful than before.

Lin Long smiled and stepped into the hotel.

The revolving door slowly turned, shutting out the hustle and bustle outside.

In the hotel lobby, crystal lamps shone brilliantly, a sea of red roses exuded a rich fragrance, and melodious waltz music flowed through the air.

Everything seemed so romantic and luxurious.

Suzuki Tomoko watched Lin Long's back, then looked at the "Reaper" mercenaries waiting in full battle array outside the window, and sighed softly.

This wedding was less of a union between two young people and more of a declaration of power.

Lin Long used his own way to tell everyone: The Suzuki Family is under my protection. If anyone dares to make a move, ask the guns in my hands first if they agree.

And the Suzuki Family also used this wedding to declare to the outside world: We have a strong enough backing, and this position of Prime Minister is secure.

As for those forces hiding in the dark, whether they were the dormant remnants of politicians or the mysterious Black Organization, they could only choose to watch from the sidelines today.

Because they all understood that in the face of absolute force, any conspiracy or trickery was just a joke.

The helicopters in the sky were still hovering, and the soldiers beside the armored vehicles still stood like pines.

The red silk of the Mihua Grand Hotel rustled in the wind, like a flag declaring victory.

This wedding, destined to be recorded in history, had only just begun.

And the power behind it would influence the fate of the entire country for a long time to come.