50: Chapter 50 Buyers

Chen Feng handed the signed training report back to Marcus. Just as the office door closed, his private phone on the desk rang.

The caller ID showed only a single letter—"W."

Chen Feng swiped the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"It's me."

Weber's voice came from the other end, sounding even older and raspier than when they had met in Los Angeles two weeks ago, like a piece of crumpled sandpaper. However, between the lines, there was a sense of relaxation that comes after the dust has settled.

"The results are out," Weber said without any nonsense, getting straight to reporting the outcome.

"Regarding the Prometheus incident, the federal investigation has completely shifted its focus to the Maida Group. Their CEO, Victor Hamon, has been placed on mandatory leave by the board of directors."

"That security director named Blake is now a primary 'person of interest' for the feds, being held as the one chiefly responsible for the accident."

"The Congressional hearing targeting Umbrella has been officially cancelled. That agent from the Department of Justice, Mr. Ford, has also been reassigned to deal with the Maida Group's mess."

Weber paused, seemingly catching his breath, and then continued in an almost flat tone to deliver the most critical piece of information.

"Your company's threat rating in the federal system has been downgraded from 'High Risk' back to 'Observation.' For at least the next six months, no more blind flies will come to bother you."

Chen Feng listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the armrest of the sofa.

Clean and efficient.

This old man with one foot in the grave had taken less than three weeks to neutralize a monstrous wave capable of overturning Umbrella, even turning that force back against his primary rival.

Hamon was sidelined, his loyal subordinates became scapegoats, Maida Group was in a state of chaos, and the federal gaze was perfectly diverted.

This was no longer simple political maneuvering; it was a terrifying power capable of manipulating the entire chessboard at will.

"Thanks," Chen Feng said sincerely.

"It's part of the deal," Weber's voice was devoid of emotion. "I paid the money, you provided the goods; this is just after-sales service."

His tone shifted, the relaxation vanishing, replaced by the characteristic sharpness of a businessman.

"Speaking of which, do you... have any new goods available for external sale?"

Chen Feng's eyebrow twitched slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"Not medicine," Weber stated directly.

Chen Feng didn't press further. He leaned back on the sofa, waiting for Weber to continue. He knew this old man never made meaningless preludes.

"I have a very old friend," Weber lowered his voice a bit. "A retired four-star general named Clark. He is currently the chairman of a certain defense advisory committee."

Chen Feng's gaze sharpened.

The military.

"After the Prometheus incident broke out, he contacted me immediately," Weber continued. "Not to check on an old man like me, but out of a soldier's professional intuition."

"He got his hands on an internal CDC briefing. From the virus's spread pattern and the behavioral characteristics of the infected, he smelled a strong sense of 'design.'"

"He said that thing didn't look like an accidental leak, but more like it was deliberately 'deployed.'"

Chen Feng's heart rate didn't change in the slightest. He knew Weber wasn't saying this to test him.

Sure enough, Weber's next sentence confirmed his suspicion.

"Clark didn't investigate me. He's smart; he knows what to ask and what not to ask. He only asked one question."

Weber imitated the general's tone, low and powerful:

"'Can the people who created that out-of-control thing create... something to control it?'"

Silence filled the office, save for the faint hum of the central air conditioning.

In Chen Feng's mind, images of the Hellhound's cold steel-grey eyes, the Licker's hideous maw hanging from the ceiling, and the Tyrant's massive, granite-like body flashed by.

Weber chuckled on the other end of the line, as if seeing through Chen Feng's thoughts.

"Clark doesn't represent The Pentagon's official procurement system. He represents a 'Special Procurement Channel' that operates outside of Congressional oversight. Their mission is to acquire weapons and equipment for the military that 'do not exist' on the surface."

"They are very interested in your 'dogs,' and even in the kind of 'monster' that killed my son."

"Of course, as a first step, they require an informal 'product demonstration.'"

Chen Feng leaned against the back of his chair and remained silent for a full fifteen seconds.

His mind was racing.

Selling Bio-Organic Weapons (BOW) to the military.

This meant Umbrella Corporation would leap from being a pharmaceutical company operating in a grey area into the realm of arms suppliers.

The profits would be exponential, but so would the risks.

Once the military obtained enough samples, they would 100% attempt reverse engineering. They might even swallow Umbrella whole without hesitation once they mastered the technology.

It was like bargaining with a tiger for its hide.

But in this world, only he possessed the Umbrella System.

Without the system's targeted modification assistance and real-time data correction, anyone who got a sample of the T-Virus would ultimately only create more uncontrollable zombies.

Those 163 infected in New Jersey were his best advertisement and his strongest moat.

"A demonstration can be arranged," Chen Feng finally spoke, his voice calm and firm.

Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately threw out his conditions, keeping the initiative firmly in his hands.

"First, the location will be here. They come to me; I don't go to them."

"Second, they cannot take away any live specimens or tissue samples."

"Third, no recording devices of any kind are allowed into the venue."

Chen Feng leaned back on the sofa and summarized in an unquestionable tone.

"They can watch, they can make requests, but I set the rules."

On the other end of the phone, Weber let out a raspy laugh, sounding like there was static in his lungs.

"I knew you'd agree."

The ambition and courage in this young man were what he admired most.

"What about the time?" Weber asked.

Chen Feng's gaze seemed to pierce through the walls, landing on the system panel that only he could see.

Next to the [T-Virus Basic Tech Tree], the [G-Virus] node, radiating a deep blue light, was like a profound vortex, filled with lethal temptation.

Unlocking it required a massive amount of Research Points.

And military orders were undoubtedly the fastest and most direct way to obtain those points.

"Tomorrow will work," Chen Feng's voice carried a hint of irrepressible excitement.

"Tell your friend to bring his checkbook."