194: Chapter 194 My Power Map Crosses the Atlantic

The ethereal blue light of the holographic projection quietly flowed in the dim hall.

It meticulously outlined the ancient and prosperous contours of the European continent.

Chen Yuan's slender index finger slowly moved forward.

Finally, it rested steadily on the phantom of the Alps.

He pressed slightly with his fingertip.

That land instantly magnified on the screen, transforming into countless flashing red strategic coordinates.

“Isabella.”

Chen Yuan withdrew his hand and turned to look at the beautiful Blood Race standing in the shadows.

His voice was flat, yet it carried an undeniable scent of blood.

“Bring your Night Walker Guard.”

“Go tell those European counterparts who fancy themselves noble what true market monopoly is.”

Isabella knelt on one knee.

In her crimson eyes, which had already been freed from their photophobia weakness, burned a frantic Battle Intent that had been suppressed for hundreds of years.

“As you wish, my great Master.”

She stood up, her black optical camouflage battle suit disappearing like flowing water in the dim light.

Only a cold and devout vow remained in the air.

“The night sky of Europe will only shine for you alone.”

London, late night on the River Thames.

Inside the luxurious villa of a veteran pharmaceutical giant, dozens of fully armed bodyguards were patrolling in shifts.

Infrared detectors and high-definition cameras covered every blind spot.

The CEO, who had just publicly boycotted the “Youth-Preserving Pill” in major media outlets,

was currently pacing back and forth in his study, holding a glass of expensive Scotch whiskey.

He claimed that Umbrella Corporation was a cancerous tumor disrupting market rules and even spent heavily lobbying Parliament to introduce sanction bills.

But he was destined not to see tomorrow's sun.

A faint ripple suddenly appeared in the air of the study.

Like an imperceptible pebble dropped into a calm lake.

No infrared alarm, no thermal imaging response.

Not even the purebred hounds outside the door let out any warning growls.

An invisible blade silently sliced through the absolute stillness.

The CEO's head was still contemplating tomorrow's short-selling plan.

He had just brought the wine glass to his lips when a blood-line, smooth as a mirror, bloomed on his neck.

Blood instantly gushed out, staining the expensive Persian rug crimson.

When the bodyguards heard the shattering sound of the wine glass falling and pushed open the door,

they only saw the headless corpse, separated from its body, lying in a pool of blood.

And a huge red Umbrella drawn on the wall with blood.

The tip of the Umbrella pointed downwards, dripping crimson blood beads.

The same desperate scene.

In the following few weeks, it mercilessly swept through Paris, Berlin, and Rome like an unstoppable plague.

Those centuries-old Families that attempted to block Chen Yuan with tariff barriers and antitrust laws

faced the most brutal and bloody physical liquidation in history.

The gene-repaired Night Walker Guard perfectly demonstrated what ultimate dimensionality reduction strike meant.

They were not afraid of sunlight, nor bullets, and with their optical stealth battle suits, they killed with a single blow.

Whether it was a Mafia Godfather hidden in a bunker or a financial magnate protected by the army,

as long as they blocked Umbrella's path, they would inevitably become a cold corpse the next day.

The elite mercenaries, once the pride of the European underground world,

were as fragile as paper toys before these bloodthirsty monsters with superhuman speed and strength.

With the bizarre deaths of one hardliner leader after another,

the capital circles of Old Europe were completely terrified.

Panic spread like a virus through those ancient castles.

They finally realized in despair.

The Eastern man sitting in that manor on the US-Mexico border disdained to play those complicated commercial games.

He disregarded laws, ignored morals.

He only recognized the iron-blooded hegemony of life and death.

Before him, there were only two choices.

Submission, or death.

This was a multiple-choice question even a three-year-old could answer.

Soon, Europe's vast underground logistics network and black market channels changed hands at an astonishing speed.

Heads of major customs and ports received enormous hush money that they could not refuse.

Umbrella's ocean-going cargo ships began to pass through the English Channel unhindered and openly.

Youth-Preserving Pill and Sub-level Enhancement Potions infiltrated the circles of European aristocrats like a virus.

The profits generated exploded exponentially.

And across the ocean in North America.

It was also a shocking display of power.

Ivanka's Senate had just passed a “Special Exemption Bill” for the biomedical field with a high majority.

No senator dared to cast a dissenting vote.

With the tacit approval and cover of Washington politicians.

Umbrella Corporation became an untouchable absolute military forbidden zone in this country.

American politics was firmly held hostage by endless money, and European capital was completely deterred by extreme force.

A continuous flood of astounding wealth, like a opened sluice gate,

surged wildly into San Verde's offshore accounts across the Atlantic and Pacific.

Those liquid funds, enough to buy small countries, made the world's financial system tremble.

Chen Yuan's invisible Empire.

In just a few weeks, it had become like a giant net covering the sky, firmly enveloping more than half the Earth.

San Verde, Elysium Manor top-floor office.

Sunlight spilled onto the expensive Persian rug.

Chen Yuan leaned comfortably in his boss's chair.

He listened to Red Queen's constant broadcasts of nine-figure fund deposit notifications, his face showing no unexpected ripples.

As if all this was within his strategic calculations, and naturally so.

When your force is enough to overturn the entire Earth's chessboard,

those who were once high and mighty players will naturally kneel down and kiss your toes.

“Boss, all the underground channels in Europe have been integrated.”

Victor walked in from outside, holding a thick folder, his face beaming.

His weight had soared by another ten pounds.

The buttons of his suit were almost bursting from the fat on his belly.

This was entirely the happy fat accumulated from the golden bricks that had fallen from the sky in the past few weeks.

“Well done.”

Chen Yuan took a sip of the aged red wine in his glass, his posture lazy yet authoritative.

“However, news just came from Isabella's side.”

Victor walked to the desk, his beaming smile gone, his tone becoming extremely serious.

“As our business in Europe grows larger, the network of interests involved becomes more complex.”

“Relying solely on the Night Walker Guard for guerrilla warfare and assassinations in the shadows is not a long-term solution after all.”

“We need an overt, absolutely secure intelligence hub.”

“Just like our Jile Nightclub in San Verde, to deter and solidify our rule there.”

Chen Yuan nodded slightly, his deep gaze looking out the window.

He knew the nature of those old capitalists too well.

Although the old European aristocrats had been temporarily subdued and scared off by the shadow of death,

their inherent arrogance and rebellious spirit still existed.

This vast territory, newly conquered, could face a backlash at any time if no one was sent to personally guard it.

Without a steel nail firmly driven into their hearts, deterrence would not last.

“Is there a suitable location?” Chen Yuan put down his wine glass, tapping his knuckles lightly on the tabletop.

Victor immediately handed over the folder, opening it to the first page.

Inside was a stack of high-altitude aerial photographs.

“To completely solidify our intelligence hub in Europe, we compared hundreds of locations.”

Victor pointed to a massive complex of buildings nestled among green trees and vineyards in the photo.

“Finally, we found a very perfect secret stronghold in France.”

“It's located in the Bordeaux region, a top-tier winery with three hundred years of history.”

Victor smacked his lips and rubbed his plump hands, seemingly a bit troubled.

“Its geographical location is unique, with no tall buildings around, and its concealment and footprint are impeccable.”

“With a slight modification, it would be a natural military fortress.”

Chen Yuan looked at the ancient and luxurious French manor in the photo, a satisfied glint flashing in his eyes.

“If it's perfect, then buy it.”

Chen Yuan said casually, “If the money isn't enough, double it. I don't like to hear nonsense.”

“Boss, it's not a matter of money...”

Victor grimaced, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“The original owner of that winery is an old French aristocrat who participated in World War II, and he's stubborn as a mule.”

“He declared that even if God came, he wouldn't give up his Family's century-old legacy.”

Victor looked at Chen Yuan, carefully swallowing his saliva.

“Boss, we found a perfect stronghold in France, but the original owner is a bit difficult.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Yuan didn't get angry; instead, he raised his eyebrows with interest.

What he liked to deal with most were these old guys who thought they were tough.

Since they wouldn't respond to reason or force, he would give them methods beyond human comprehension.