201: Chapter 201 Cut the weeds and nip them in the bud

Middle East, Syrian border, abandoned Assam town.

Inside a hidden intelligence station converted from an underground air-raid shelter, the cigar smoke was so thick it was hard to keep one's eyes open.

Barker, the commander of the "Poison Bee" mercenary group, slammed several high-resolution photos onto the iron table.

"The three thousand defenders at the Golan Heights are gone. Not even a single hair was left behind." Barker pointed at the titanium alloy blast door in the photo that had been melted through, cursing roughly, "The client paid fifty million USD for us to find out what kind of weapon did this. Does anyone have any leads?"

Several mercenaries leaned in to take a look.

"Did aliens do this, for fuck's sake?" a bald mercenary muttered.

"Who cares who did it? Fifty million USD is enough for us to retire," another one-eyed mercenary said, wiping his combat knife.

As soon as he finished speaking, "Boom!"

The two-meter-thick blast-proof iron door, along with its frame, was smashed directly into the room.

The one-eyed mercenary didn't even make a sound before being flattened into a pulp of flesh by the iron door.

Barker reacted extremely quickly, grabbing the AK-74 on the table and firing at the doorway.

The smoke cleared. Two young Asian men in black combat uniforms stood at the doorway.

Lin Hao brushed the dust off his shoulder and tilted his head to look at Kevin beside him.

"The boss said, leave no one alive."

Barker saw that there were only two of them, and his courage grew. He roared, "Fire! Turn them into sieves!"

A dozen automatic rifles opened fire simultaneously, their muzzle flashes illuminating the dim basement.

A bizarre scene unfolded.

Lin Hao and Kevin didn't even look for cover. They walked forward straight into the hail of bullets.

The moment the bullets were fired at them, their bodies twisted and shifted with a range of motion that defied the laws of physics.

The dense, interwoven web of gunfire didn't even graze the corners of their clothes.

"What the hell! Are they even human?" Barker's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

He shoved his subordinates aside, grabbed an M32 grenade launcher from the corner, and pulled the trigger at Kevin.

The distance was too close; although Kevin dodged the fatal spot, the grenade still exploded on his left side.

"Bang!" Flesh and blood flew everywhere.

Kevin's entire left arm was severed at the root and flew off to smash against the wall.

Barker laughed wildly, "Pretending to be ghosts! You're just made of flesh and blood after all!"

His laughter hadn't even stopped before it abruptly ceased, like a duck being strangled.

Kevin looked down at his severed left shoulder. No blood flowed out.

At the severed end, countless black, vein-like granulations were squirming frantically.

"Squelch!" Several thick black tentacles suddenly burst out from the wound, intertwining and wrapping around each other. In just two seconds, a completely intact left arm grew back.

The newly grown arm was even thicker than the original, covered with a layer of black keratin.

The basement was deathly silent. The mercenaries were completely dumbfounded, forgetting even to fire their guns.

"This weapon has quite a kick," Kevin said, flexing his newly grown left hand, his bones making a crisp cracking sound.

The next second, he exerted force with his feet, and his whole body shot toward Barker like a cannonball.

Barker only felt a blur before his eyes, and his neck tightened.

Kevin grabbed Barker's neck with one hand, forcefully lifting his two-hundred-plus-pound body into mid-air.

"You investigated quite accurately."

As he finished speaking, Kevin flicked his wrist. "Snap."

Barker's neck snapped instantly, and his head hung limply.

The remaining mercenaries finally came to their senses and scrambled toward the exit, screaming.

Lin Hao sighed, "Why run?"

He raised his right hand, and his palm split open. A dozen black tentacles shot out like vipers, accurately piercing the back of every fleeing mercenary.

Two minutes later. Lin Hao threw an incendiary grenade onto the pile of corpses.

The fire instantly engulfed the entire basement. The two turned and left, blending into the wind and sand of the Middle Eastern night.

Los Angeles, Umbrella Corporation underground Core Laboratory No. 3.

On the giant screen in the War Room, real-time footage from across the Middle East was being broadcast.

Not just the "Poison Bee" mercenary group, but within a short four hours, seven underground intelligence stations and three mercenary bases active along the borders of Syria and Da Shi State had all been completely uprooted.

The special operations team led by Lin Hao and Kevin had delivered a perfect performance.

Chen Feng leaned back in his leather chair, holding a cup of warm black coffee.

Sarah stood to the side, handing over a summary report.

"Boss, it's all cleaned up. All organizations hired to investigate the Golan Heights incident have been wiped out. There are no survivors, and no traceable traces have been left behind."

Chen Feng took the report, glanced at it casually, and tossed it on the table.

"How is the field data for the Ouroboros Virus?"

Sarah pulled up several sets of combat footage: "It's perfect. The neural reaction speeds demonstrated by S-002 and S-003 in combat are far beyond ordinary people, allowing them to completely evade the trajectories of conventional firearms. The regenerative ability has also been verified; as long as the brain or heart isn't destroyed instantly, severed limbs only take two to three seconds to regrow."

Chen Feng nodded in satisfaction. Turning living people into monsters—this was Umbrella's confidence.

The phone on the table suddenly rang. Chen Feng pressed the answer button, and the holographic projection device activated, displaying Weber's spirited face in mid-air.

He was wearing a very sophisticated British three-piece suit today, and he held a glass of red wine in his hand.

"Good evening, Chen. Alan told me you've made a fortune in the Middle East." Weber's voice sounded quite cheerful.

"Spare me the pleasantries, Weber." Chen Feng took a sip of coffee. "You wouldn't be calling me in the middle of the night just to compliment me."

Weber smiled and raised his glass.

"Half of it is to congratulate you. I've heard about the matter in the Special Zone; well done. Additionally, I have some good news on my end."

Weber paused, his tone becoming formal: "I've utilized the connections of a few old friends. Next year's Nobel Prize in Biology and Chemistry will have Dr. Samantha Lee's name on the nomination list. The reason is that the 'Neo-Genesis' she led the development of has made epoch-making contributions in the field of cellular repair."

Chen Feng raised an eyebrow. The Nobel Prize. This old fox really knows how to stir things up.

"Neo-Genesis" is indeed a miracle, but to directly secure a Nobel nomination shows the extent of Weber's influence behind the scenes.

"That's a decent advertisement," Chen Feng commented. "Once Samantha wins the award, I can rightfully double the price of the 'Neo-Genesis' quota for the second half of the year."

"That is exactly what I wanted to see." Weber was very satisfied with Chen Feng's business acumen.

But soon, the smile on his face faded, and his eyes became extremely oppressive.

"The good news is over. Now for the bad news."

Weber put down his wine glass, leaned forward, and lowered his voice.

"Chen, the slice of the cake you took on Wall Street this time is too big."

Chen Feng didn't speak, signaling him to continue.

"Four hundred and fifty billion USD." Weber uttered this number with a heavy tone. "You stripped the U Federation's military-industrial giants and Israel's sovereign bonds to the bone. That madman Alan Fisher did a beautiful job; the funds were laundered very cleanly."

"However, you have alerted people you shouldn't have."

Chen Feng placed his coffee cup on the table, creating a crisp clinking sound.

"Who?"

"The 'Old Money' that truly controls the rules of the game in this world." Weber tapped the table with his finger. "Do you think the U Federation's president or the generals at The Pentagon are the pinnacle? They are just agents put on the stage."

"Morgan, Rockefeller, DuPont... and those ancient families in Europe that have been hidden for centuries."

Weber took a deep breath, his tone rarely carrying a hint of wariness.

"The movement of this four hundred and fifty billion cannot be hidden from their eyes. They have already smelled the blood. The heads of several financial clans held a closed-door meeting in Switzerland the day before yesterday."

"They are investigating where this money went. Following the vine to find the melon, they will sooner or later trace it back to Umbrella."

Weber looked into Chen Feng's eyes.

"Chen, at your current scale, you are a piece of fat meat in their eyes. A super-fat piece of meat that possesses technology capable of rejuvenating people and holds hundreds of billions in cash."

"The real capital crocodiles are about to enter the arena. They won't talk to you about business rules; they are accustomed to swallowing people whole, skin and bones alike."