110: Chapter 110 If you don't cooperate, you only have three days left to live.
Debris was still falling from the hole in the ceiling, hitting the floor with a hollow echo.
The hall was deathly silent.
Those gene-enhanced warriors who were so arrogant just a moment ago now looked as if they had been hit by a freezing spell. Dozens of piercing red laser dots rested precisely on their foreheads, hearts, and throats.
If their fingers so much as dared to move on the triggers,
The hovering aerial fortress overhead would turn this place into a literal meat grinder.
"Is this your trump card?"
David Rockefeller gripped the armrests of his wheelchair tightly, his withered fingers turning white from excessive force. His voice trembled, not with fear, but with a humiliated rage.
"Young man, you have destroyed a cultural relic."
"Can you afford to compensate for a castle with two hundred years of history?"
Chen Yuan smiled.
He didn't even bother to look at the transport plane demonstrating its power overhead; instead, he slowly walked over to David, pulled out a Louis XIV era chair, and sat down again.
"David, don't talk to me about money."
Chen Yuan pulled a metal projector from his pocket and casually tossed it onto the messy dining table.
"Let's talk about something more expensive than money."
"For example... time."
*Hum—*
A blue light shot out from the projector, constructing a precise 3D holographic map of a human body between the two of them.
It was an aged, decaying body, like withered wood.
The internal organs were covered in black shadows, especially the pancreas, where a hideous tumor tissue, like a greedy spider, extended its tentacles into all the surrounding blood vessels and lymph nodes.
David's pupils shrank suddenly.
That was his body.
It was the body he spent hundreds of millions of dollars on, having a top global medical team monitor it twenty-four hours a day.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Chen Yuan pointed at the black tumor as if admiring a piece of art. "The cancer cells are spreading faster than I imagined. Look here, the hepatic portal vein is already eighty percent blocked."
"And here."
His finger slid across the lungs. "The lymph nodes are swollen, compressing your airway. This is why you cough up blood every night."
"Enough!"
David roared, his chest heaving violently; it was the shame and anger of being exposed. "Why are you showing me this? Do you want to watch me die?"
"No, quite the opposite."
Chen Yuan snapped his fingers.
The holographic image suddenly changed.
A pale blue stream of light was suddenly injected into that decaying body.
The image was magnified countless times, entering the microscopic world.
David stared with his clouded eyes wide open.
He saw a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
Countless microscopic mechanical worms, invisible to the naked eye, swarmed through the blood vessels like a well-trained army. Wielding tiny scalpels and devouring maws, they lunged at those hideous cancer cells.
Cutting, devouring, repairing.
The originally irreversible necrotic tissue, under the wash of these blue light points, actually began to recede at a speed visible to the naked eye, and healthy pink granulation tissue began to regrow.
Like a withered tree reviving in spring.
This was practically a miracle that only existed in the Bible.
"These are Nano Medical Worms."
Chen Yuan's voice was full of devilish allure. "They don't take medicine, they don't need injections; they wage war directly at your cellular level."
"Just one dose."
Chen Yuan held up a finger. "Just one dose, and those cancer cells gnawing at your life will be cleaned out within 24 hours. Your internal organs will regain their vitality, and your blood will surge with power once again."
"You will feel like you've returned to your fifties, or even your forties."
David's breathing became heavy.
That 'huff, huff' sound was like a traveler about to die of thirst in the desert seeing an oasis not far away.
But he still held onto that sliver of pride belonging to a top financial tycoon.
"The conditions?"
The old man asked hoarsely, "What do you want? Rockefeller shares? Or control over oil?"
"I said, I have no interest in your money."
Chen Yuan leaned forward, his pitch-black eyes looking directly at David with a gaze of superior pity.
"I'm just here to tell you a fact."
He lifted his wrist and checked the time.
"According to the Red Queen's calculations, your pancreatic tumor will completely compress the abdominal aorta in 71 hours."
"In other words, without intervention, your lifespan..."
"Only has three days left."
"In three days, you will die of internal bleeding caused by multi-organ failure. You will feel like your stomach is filled with a ton of rocks, and every breath will feel like swallowing glass shards. You will watch your own blood spray from your mouth, yet you won't be able to make a sound."
Chen Yuan's description was too specific, too vivid.
David felt as if his abdomen had already begun to ache faintly.
"You... are you threatening me?"
"No, this is a forecast."
Chen Yuan stood up, straightened his collar which wasn't even messy, and looked down at this old man who had controlled half the world for half a century.
"I am giving you the chance to choose."
"Either hold onto your so-called family glory and those hundreds of billions of dollars you can't take into your coffin, and die in agony three days from now."
"Or..."
Chen Yuan pointed to the blue agent in the projection.
"Kneel down."
"Beg me to save you."
After speaking, Chen Yuan turned and left.
His pace was slow, each step landing on the old man's heartbeat.
"Oh, right."
When he reached the door, Chen Yuan seemed to suddenly remember something and looked back with a smile.
"Don't expect your medical teams to be able to replicate the nanoworms. Their encryption level is a genetic lock; once they leave my control, they will turn into deadly poison."
"So, don't do anything stupid."
"The countdown has begun, David."
"Tick-tock, tick-tock."
Chen Yuan mimicked the sound of a ticking clock and pushed open the crumbling doors.
The rain was still falling.
Cold wind poured into the hall, making the candlelight flicker and dim.
David Rockefeller sat in his wheelchair, his face—which had been full of killing intent just moments ago—now turned as white as paper.
Three days.
Seventy-two hours.
The countdown to death was like a Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, making him feel suffocated.
He glanced around.
Those fully armed genetic warriors and those powerful automatic cannons seemed so pale and powerless before the holographic image left by that young man.
Guns and cannons can stop an enemy, but they cannot stop the Grim Reaper.
Money can buy everything, but it cannot buy time.
"Master..."
The butler Alfred clutched his severed arm, struggling to crawl over. "What... what should we do? Should we use that..."
"Shut up!"
David suddenly let out a roar.
He tremblingly tried to stand up, wanting to maintain his last bit of dignity.
He grabbed that ebony cane, the symbol of family power.
He exerted force.
And more force.
However, that decaying body had already betrayed him. Sharp pain radiated from his abdomen, instantly draining all his strength.
*Clatter.*
The cane slipped from his hand.
In that deathly silent hall, it fell heavily onto the cold marble floor.
It was the sound of a scepter hitting the ground.
It was also the sound of one era completely collapsing before another.
David Rockefeller slumped in his wheelchair, his eyes staring blankly at the hole in the ceiling.
Rain fell through.
Hitting his face like the tears of God.
"Prepare the car..."
The old man's voice was so weak it was almost inaudible, filled with endless desolation and compromise.
"Go... to that kid's company."
"I don't want to die..."