80: Chapter 80 Killing Weapons

New Kobe, a safe house converted from an underground air-raid shelter in an abandoned industrial zone.

Heisenberg wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and pushed a silver briefcase to the center of the table.

Sitting opposite him was a skinny man in a black suit, Watanabe from the East Country Intelligence Bureau.

"Three tubes of raw samples, and the core data Stone didn't have time to delete are all here." Heisenberg's voice was dry. "Where's the money?"

Watanabe ignored him and snapped his fingers. An East Country researcher in a white lab coat immediately stepped forward, opened the case, took out a tube of pale purple liquid, and placed it into a portable analyzer.

A few minutes later, the researcher nodded to Watanabe: "Sir, it's real. The gene sequence matches the intelligence we intercepted perfectly."

A forced smile appeared on Watanabe's face: "Dr. Heisenberg, a pleasure doing business with you. Ten million in bearer bonds have been transferred to your offshore account. Additionally, we have prepared a brand-new identity and a seaside villa for you."

Heisenberg breathed a sigh of relief and was about to pick up the water glass on the table.

"Boom!"

A dull thud suddenly came from the ventilation duct overhead, followed by the ear-piercing sound of metal twisting.

Watanabe's expression changed, and his right hand instantly reached for the sidearm at his waist: "What's the situation?"

The twelve elite agents guarding the door immediately raised their submachine guns, aiming them in unison at the ceiling.

"Monitoring room? Respond!" Watanabe pressed his headset.

Only harsh static came through the earpiece.

Heisenberg was so scared he shrank directly under the table: "Is it Stone's people chasing us? You said this place was absolutely safe!"

"Shut up!" Watanabe cursed and gestured to his subordinates.

Two agents held their guns and cautiously retreated toward the door.

Before they could even reach the door, the ten-centimeter-thick blast-proof iron door suddenly bulged inward with a massive fist print.

"Bang!"

There was another loud bang; the concrete at the door hinges shattered instantly, and spider-web-like cracks spread along the wall.

Watanabe's pupils constricted. This was a blast-proof door that could withstand C4 explosives!

"Fire! Open fire as soon as the door breaks!" Watanabe roared.

"Clang—"

The entire blast door was forcibly torn off by a terrifying, monstrous force, crashing to the ground like a piece of scrap metal.

Amidst the dust, a massive dark figure, two point seven meters tall, lowered its head and ducked inside.

Twelve submachine guns opened fire simultaneously.

Dense bullets pelted Nemesis like raindrops, riddling its black trench coat with holes.

But not a single drop of blood flowed out.

Those steel-core bullets, powerful enough to pierce bulletproof vests, were embedded in Nemesis's dark red muscles, then forcibly squeezed out by the writhing muscle fibers, hitting the floor with a crisp clinking sound.

Watanabe was stunned. What kind of monster is this?

Nemesis gave them no time to think. It raised its right arm, and the barrels of the rotary machine gun began to spin.

"Whir—"

The deafening roar of gunfire instantly drowned out the entire basement.

This wasn't a firefight; it was a one-sided massacre.

The twelve elite East Country agents didn't even have time to scream before being torn to shreds by the dense hail of bullets. Mangled limbs and blood mist sprayed against the walls, turning the entire room into a slaughterhouse in an instant.

In less than ten seconds, the gunfire stopped.

The barrels were still emitting white smoke as Nemesis stepped over the mangled flesh and walked forward.

Watanabe was trembling all over, his pride as an elite agent instantly collapsing. He pulled out a high-explosive grenade, pulled the pin, and frantically threw it at Nemesis.

"Die, you monster!"

The grenade exploded at Nemesis's feet.

Fire and shrapnel swept through the room. The shockwave sent Watanabe flying, slamming him hard against the wall as he spat out a large mouthful of blood.

He stared fixedly at the center of the explosion, hoping the high-explosive grenade had crippled the monster.

The smoke cleared.

Nemesis stood in place; the hem of its black trench coat was half-shredded, and a large chunk of muscle on its left leg had been blown away, revealing bone-white fragments.

But in the next second, Watanabe witnessed a scene he would never forget.

Those severed muscle fibers seemed to have a life of their own, writhing and intertwining frantically. In less than five seconds, the leg that had been blown into a bloody mess was completely restored to its original state.

Not even a scar remained.

Nemesis walked up to Watanabe and looked down at him. Its grayish-yellow right eye showed no emotional fluctuation.

It raised its massive foot and stepped on Watanabe's chest.

"Crack."

The sound of the sternum shattering was crisp and clear. Watanabe's eyes rolled back, and he went completely still.

Hiding under the table, Heisenberg had already wet himself. He watched as the pair of black leather boots, stained with flesh and blood, stopped in front of him, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

Nemesis leaned down and hoisted Heisenberg up from under the table with one hand.

"Don't kill me... Don't kill me!" Heisenberg screamed hysterically, "I'm a top scientist! I can help your boss make a lot of money! Whatever Stone can give, I can give too!"

Nemesis ignored his pleas for mercy. It picked up the silver briefcase from the table with its other hand and scanned the three tubes of samples and the encrypted hard drive inside.

No problems.

It closed the briefcase and held it in its hand.

As for Heisenberg—

Chen Feng's order was: The target himself does not need to be brought back.

Nemesis's hand gripping Heisenberg's neck suddenly tightened.

"Snap."

Heisenberg's neck was snapped at a grotesque angle, and his screams came to an abrupt halt. Nemesis casually tossed the corpse onto the ground like a piece of trash, turned around, and strode out of the blood-soaked basement.

Los Angeles, Umbrella Corporation headquarters.

Chen Feng sat in his executive chair, looking at the large screen on the wall.

The screen was playing real-time surveillance footage from Nemesis's perspective.

From breaking in, to massacring the agents, to taking the samples and executing Heisenberg, the entire process took less than three minutes.

Clean, efficient, and flawless.

Standing nearby, Marcus swallowed hard, cold sweat seeping from his forehead.

He was also a veteran who had been on the battlefield and seen many gruesome scenes. But the performance of the monster on the screen still made a chill run down his spine.

"Boss, this thing..." Marcus remained silent for a long while before squeezing out a sentence, "It's a bit too unreasonable."

Walking forward while being peppered by submachine gun fire, instantly regenerating after taking a high-explosive grenade, and using a Gatling gun as a rifle with one hand.

This wasn't a biological weapon; it was a killing machine in human skin.

"This is the crushing power brought by a technological gap." Chen Feng took a sip of the coffee on the table, feeling pleased.

A prompt popped up on the system panel at the right time:

[Mission Accomplished: Death Delivery]

[Target Intercepted: "Project Black Sun" raw samples and research data]

[Reward Issued: 20,000 Research Points]

[New Technology Branch Unlocked: "Plaga Parasite" Basic Blueprint]

Chen Feng glanced at his total research points, which had accumulated to 328,000. He was one step closer to unlocking the next ultimate weapon.

The basic blueprint for the Plaga Parasite was now in hand. This item was invaluable; it could not only be used to control hosts but also significantly enhance their physical attributes. If combined with the T-Virus...

He thought of that mysterious man with sunglasses and slicked-back hair, and the Ouroboros Virus developed by combining the T-Virus, G-Virus, and Plaga Parasite.

Suddenly, the encrypted private line on the desk rang.

Chen Feng pressed the speakerphone.

"Did you get the stuff?" Clark's voice came through the speaker, urgency evident in his tone.

"Intact." Chen Feng leaned back in his chair. "Is your recovery team in place?"

"They're already at the extraction point. A seaplane will fly directly to international waters, then transfer to a nuclear submarine to return home." Clark paused, his tone becoming complex, "I just received an emergency report from an informant in the East Country. That safe house in New Kobe... was leveled. Twelve elite agents, plus a leader, wiped out."

"Is that so?" Chen Feng said calmly, "Then they were quite unlucky."

There was silence on the other end for several seconds.

Clark knew full well. He was clearly aware that being able to massacre a fully armed team of agents in such a short time without using heavy firepower was absolutely not something a human could do.

"Chen, what exactly have you created?" Clark's voice was very low.

"A product that will let you walk tall in The Pentagon." Chen Feng smiled, "General Clark, our deal is fair. You help me clear the obstacles on the surface, and I provide you with the key that determines the future direction of warfare."

Clark waited two seconds before speaking: "Next Wednesday. The top-level testing ground on the second basement floor of The Pentagon. Several high-ranking members of the Military Committee will be present. I want to see the physical object."

"No problem." Chen Feng agreed readily.

Hanging up the phone, Chen Feng stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the night view of Los Angeles.

"Marcus."

"Here, Boss."

"Notify Samantha and have her analyze those three tubes of Project Black Sun samples. Let's see what that old fox Stone actually researched." Chen Feng turned around, "Also, have Tony's side prepare the USS brochures."

Marcus was stunned for a moment: "Brochures? For who?"

"For those investors who have plenty of military funding but don't know how to spend it."

The arms business is the most profitable trade in the world.

And he, Chen Feng, wasn't going to sell guns and cannons; he was going to sell fear and violence that crushes everything.

This Noah's Ark named "Umbrella" was finally about to show its sharp fangs.