20: Chapter 20: If the money is right, I can even extend God's life.

"Zzz—!!!"

This wasn't the sound of an electric current, but the wailing of air being torn apart as four M134 Miniguns fired at full speed.

A rate of fire of 6,000 rounds per minute meant that one hundred large-caliber bullets were poured out every second. With four guns firing in unison, that was four hundred rounds per second.

This wasn't shooting.

This was a metal storm.

The night was instantly illuminated by tracer rounds, as dazzling as daylight. That whip of death, woven from red-hot trajectories, lashed out wildly at the Vulture Legion's convoy.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The three leading pickup trucks didn't even last a second; they were instantly riddled with holes, their fuel tanks exploded, and they turned into burning torches on the side of the road.

The mercenaries in the vehicles didn't even have time to scream before they were torn to shreds by the large-caliber bullets. The blood mist had barely exploded before it was vaporized by the intense heat.

"Counterattack! Counterattack now!"

Carl huddled inside the turtle shell of his light armored personnel carrier, screaming hysterically into the radio, "RPG! Blow up those two firing points for me!"

"Commander! We can't hit them!"

A subordinate's crying voice came through the radio, "Those two monsters... they're moving! They're running while holding Gatling guns!"

Carl froze.

Through the bulletproof glass, he saw a scene that shattered his worldview.

Those two 2.5-meter-tall black giants weren't fixed in position like ordinary machine gunners. They carried huge ammunition boxes on their backs and advanced with long, steady strides through the hail of bullets.

Bullets hitting their thick protective suits only sparked weakly. Meanwhile, the Vulcan cannons in their hands were like the scythe of the Grim Reaper, striking wherever they pointed.

How could these be infantry?

These were clearly two humanoid tanks!

"Is this what Viper called 'weak defense'? Is this what she called a 'rabble'?"

Carl was so angry he wanted to vomit blood. He slammed open the hatch, intending to operate the heavy machine gun on the roof to fight back.

But as soon as he poked his head out, a mortar shell whistled sharply and landed in the middle of the convoy.

"Boom!"

The shockwave flipped two pickup trucks.

Behind the surrounding walls, dozens of "security guards" wearing simple exoskeleton armor were holding assault rifles and launching a charge under the cover of those two monsters.

Although their tactical movements were very amateur—some even ran too fast and tripped over themselves—their equipment was top-notch!

The strength bonus provided by the exoskeletons allowed them not only to run fast but also to carry thick bulletproof steel plates. The Vulture Legion's pride and joy, the AK47s, did nothing but make noise when fired at them; they were completely useless.

"It's over."

That was the only thought remaining in Carl's mind.

This wasn't a battle; it was a massacre.

"Retreat! Everyone retreat!"

Carl dove back into the driver's seat and jerked the steering wheel. The heavily modified armored personnel carrier roared, smashed through the burning wreckage ahead, and tried to turn around and escape.

"Want to leave?"

Standing on the high platform, Chen Yuan swirled his empty wine glass, a cold sneer playing on his lips. "Did you ask my security guards?"

He gently raised his hand and made a downward gesture.

On the battlefield, Tyrant No. 1 suddenly dropped the machine gun whose barrel had already turned red from firing.

It let out a low roar, its legs exerted force, and it charged out like a cannonball.

The ground trembled.

Its speed was actually faster than the armored vehicle!

"Thud!"

With a loud noise, Tyrant No. 1 jumped directly onto the roof of the speeding armored vehicle. The terrifying weight caused the roof to cave in instantly, and the whole vehicle swerved violently like a drunk rhinoceros.

"Get off! Get off!"

Carl screamed frantically inside the vehicle, pulling out his pistol and firing blindly at the roof.

"Riiip—"

A teeth-grinding sound of metal tearing rang out.

The two-centimeter-thick bulletproof armored hatch was actually ripped open by Tyrant No. 1 using its huge, bone-spiked claws! It was as simple as opening a can of sardines.

The night wind blew in, mixed with a thick smell of blood.

Carl looked up and met the Tyrant's pair of pale, dead, emotionless eyes.

"God..."

The gun in Carl's hand dropped to the floor, and his crotch was instantly soaked.

A large hand reached in, grabbed his neck like a chick, pulled him out of the vehicle, and suspended him in mid-air.

The surrounding gunfire gradually thinned out.

The remaining members of the Vulture Legion saw their commander being held like a dead dog, completely lost the courage to resist, and one after another threw down their weapons and knelt to surrender.

Tyrant No. 1 carried Carl, strode to the bottom of the watchtower where Chen Yuan was, knelt on one knee, and offered the trophy.

Chen Yuan looked down at the mercenary leader who had once run rampant in South America.

"Commander Carl, nice to meet you."

Chen Yuan's voice was very soft, but it was clearly audible on the deathly silent battlefield. "I am very dissatisfied with your service. We agreed on you delivering heads, so why did you deliver yourself first?"

"Who... who exactly are you?"

Carl wheezed with difficulty, his face purple. "This isn't a Pharmaceutical Factory... this is a military base... you've violated the Mercenary Convention..."

"Convention?"

Chen Yuan laughed, very happily.

"This is San Verde, my friend. Here, I am the convention."

He turned around, not sparing the loser another glance.

"Alice, take care of it. Remember to clean up the scene; I don't want to see a single fly here when the sun rises tomorrow."

"Snap."

The sound of bones breaking came from behind.

A generation of ruthless overlords ended here.

Chen Yuan walked back to his office, the clamor outside seemingly isolated in another world.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and was about to take a sip to calm his nerves when the satellite phone on the desk suddenly rang.

It was an encrypted, unknown number. The caller ID location was Switzerland.

Chen Yuan raised an eyebrow and answered the phone.

"Good evening, Mr. Chen."

On the other end of the phone was an old, weak voice that nonetheless exuded the majesty of someone who had long held a high position, speaking in a thick London accent. "Sorry to disturb you at this time. I just watched a wonderful fireworks show via satellite."

Chen Yuan glanced at the burning wreckage outside the window.

"I apologize for the spectacle. Some rats got into the house, and the commotion was a bit loud."

"No, it was wonderful. Those two bio-weapons... were impressive."

There was a hint of urgent wheezing in the old man's voice. "But I am not interested in war, Mr. Chen. I only care about one thing."

"I heard you have a drug that can restore youth?"

Chen Yuan's eyes narrowed.

The news spread really fast. It seemed the effect of Lady Mary's banquet last night was even better than expected.

"Just rumors."

Chen Yuan swirled his wine glass nonchalantly. "That's just a semi-finished product still in the experimental stage, and the side effects are significant."

"Side effects?"

The old man laughed on the other end of the line, his laughter as dry as a night owl's. "For someone who is dying, the biggest side effect is death. As long as I don't die, I am willing to become a devil."

"Mr. Chen, I am an agent for the Rothschild family."

"Money is just a number to me."

Chen Yuan said indifferently, "However, since you are so sincere..."

He paused, his tone taking on a hint of cult-leader-like bewitchment:

"I can reserve a spot for you. But my medicine is not for sale; it is only for trade."

"Trade for what?"

"Trade for resources, trade for channels, trade for those... privileges that money cannot buy."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

"Deal."

There was a hint of awe in the old man's voice. "Mr. Chen, you are truly a... greedy devil."

"No, you misunderstand."

Chen Yuan watched the two Tyrants outside the window moving corpses, a wildly arrogant smile curling on his lips:

"I am not a devil."

"As long as the money is right, even if that old guy God himself comes, I can extend his life."

...

Hanging up the phone, Chen Yuan downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.

This night was destined to be sleepless.

Not only him, but the entire underground world of San Verde was trembling.

The news of the Vulture Legion's total annihilation spread like it had wings to every corner of the border. The Easterner pharmaceutical merchant who was once regarded by everyone as a fat sheep had overnight turned into a man-eating tiger.

In the south of the city, inside a heavily guarded estate.

"Smash!"

An expensive crystal ashtray was smashed fiercely onto the floor, shattering into pieces.

Guzman, the major drug lord who controlled half of the Mexican border, was pacing back and forth in the room like a furious lion.

"Three hundred men! Fully armed! And armored vehicles!"

He pointed at his subordinates kneeling on the ground, spittle flying, "And they're just gone? Without even making a splash? Are you trying to tell me that Chen Yuan can use magic?"

"Bo... Boss..."

The subordinate trembled, "The scouts reported that there are monsters in that Pharmaceutical Factory... they are invulnerable to blades and guns, and can even tear tanks apart with their bare hands..."

"Screw the monsters!"

Guzman kicked the subordinate over, "That's bio-weaponry! It's the Americans' high technology! Damn it, what exactly is the background of that yellow-skinned monkey?"

He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.

Chen Yuan's rise was too fast.

So fast that it made him feel fear.

If this continued, that Easterner would sooner or later reach into his plate and swallow him up too.

"Can't wait any longer."

Guzman walked to the map on the wall, staring fixedly at the location of the Pharmaceutical Factory, his eyes flashing with a sinister light.

"Since Vulture isn't enough, then find someone stronger."

He picked up the red phone on the table and dialed a number he hadn't contacted for a long time.

"Hello, is this the 'Black Sun' Alliance?"

"Help me contact the heads of the other families. Tell them that a powerful dragon has arrived in San Verde, and if we don't join forces to slaughter him..."

Guzman's voice was as cold as a Viper's tongue:

"We will all die."