200: Chapter 200 The Chen family delegation has arrived, led by that stepmother.
When those two words tumbled from Victor's lips, the hand Chen Yuan used to hold his coffee cup froze in mid-air for a full three seconds.
It was an eerie pause.
It wasn't shock, much less fear; it was the bewilderment of a hunter who, after searching bitterly for years, suddenly finds that the prey has washed itself, packed itself up, and delivered itself to his doorstep.
"Zhao Ya?"
Chen Yuan set down his cup, the porcelain making a crisp clinking sound against the marble tabletop.
A playful arc curled at the corners of his mouth, yet his pitch-black eyes seemed frozen with ten thousand years of black ice, devoid of any warmth.
"She actually dares to come."
"Boss, that woman brought over thirty people."
Victor wiped his sweat, observing Chen Yuan's expression while he reported.
"There are a few elders from the collateral branches of the Family, along with some well-known lawyers and accountants from the country. They're using the pretext of a business inspection, and they've already passed our outer perimeter checkpoints, insisting on seeing you."
Victor swallowed hard.
"Do you want me to have the T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrant cause an 'accidental car crash' for them on the way?"
"An accidental car crash? That's letting them off too easily."
Chen Yuan stood up and casually picked up the black tactical trench coat draped over the back of his chair.
The trench coat, made of nano-bulletproof fiber, traced a sharp arc in the air before settling steadily over his broad shoulders.
"Since our in-laws have traveled such a long way to 'visit relatives,' how could we possibly turn guests away?"
Chen Yuan adjusted his collar and strode outside.
"Prepare the plane; we're returning to San Verde."
"Tell Alice to let the guests have some tea in the reception hall first."
"By the way, have our security lads give these big shots from Jinghai a proper... 'welcome'."
Ten hours later, San Verde, Elysium Manor.
The scorching sun hung in the sky, and the air was filled with the dryness and ruggedness characteristic of Texas.
Yet, this heatwave could not warm the atmosphere inside the Manor's No. 1 reception hall.
It was cold.
A bone-chilling cold that tightly enveloped every member of the Family present.
The reception hall was spacious, with expensive Persian carpets on the floor and famous paintings hanging on the walls.
But no one had the heart to appreciate the luxurious decor.
Over thirty members of the Family delegation were currently huddled tightly on the massive leather sofas like a flock of quails waiting to be slaughtered, their breathing cautious and shallow.
Because all around them...
...stood twenty T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrants, neatly arranged, each over 2.2 meters tall and wearing oversized black suits.
These biochemical monsters wore no sunglasses, their pale, dead fish-eyes staring at this group of humans without a hint of emotion.
Their fists, larger than sand pots, hung naturally at their sides, and occasionally, the blue-grey muscles would bulge beneath their suits, emitting a teeth-gritting sound of fiber friction.
This oppressive feeling, built purely from violence, made a few of the accountants with poor mental fortitude begin to tremble in their legs, with some even secretly praying to God.
"Is... is this the security for that bastard?"
Third Uncle swallowed hard, his voice kept extremely low, fearing he would disturb those statue-like monsters.
"Are these motherfuckers even human? Why do I feel like they aren't even breathing?"
The few elders from the collateral branches sitting next to him turned deathly pale, not daring to utter a word in response.
And right in the center of the crowd...
...sat a woman.
Zhao Ya.
If Chen Yuan were here now, he probably wouldn't recognize this noblewoman who once bossed everyone around and acted so arrogant in the Family courtyard at first glance.
She was in such a wretched state.
Her once meticulously styled hair bun was now a mess, with streaks of white hair shockingly interspersed throughout.
That face of "Fujiwara Masako," well-maintained and built with countless amounts of money, was now haggard, with sunken eye sockets, and thick foundation could not hide the exhaustion and despair radiating from within.
The pressure of the Chen Group's bankruptcy weighed on her back like a massive mountain.
And the video of her son Chen Yu being locked in a cage like a dog had completely shattered her psychological defenses as a mother.
She hadn't closed her eyes for days and nights.
Every time she closed her eyes, her mind was filled with the fangs of those Zombie Dogs dripping with acid.
She had come this time behind Chen Tianba's back, sneaking here.
She knew that if she didn't rescue her son soon, those blood-sucking collateral relatives of the Family would absolutely devour them—mother and son—alive.
"Creak—" The heavy mahogany door was slowly pushed open from the outside.
In the originally deathly silent reception hall, a uniform sound of military boots clicking together rang out instantly.
The twenty T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrants turned simultaneously to face the door.
Like subjects welcoming their king.
Chen Yuan stepped inside.
He was wearing a deep black tactical trench coat, his hands in his pockets.
That aura of an overlord, tempered in mountains of corpses and seas of blood, made the hearts of all the Family members constrict violently the moment he stepped into the hall.
He didn't look at those trembling uncles.
Nor did he look at those lawyers who were too scared to even lift their heads.
Chen Yuan's gaze, like two cold, sharp blades, pierced straight toward Zhao Ya, who was sitting in the center.
"Long time no see, my dear stepmother."
Chen Yuan walked to the main seat and sat down, crossing his long legs.
He looked down from a position of superiority at this culprit who had once destroyed his Family and driven his mother to her death.
There was no anger in his eyes, only a calmness like looking at a dead person.
"What? Is the air in Jinghai not good enough, so you've come to my rural backwater for a long vacation?"
Hearing this familiar voice, Zhao Ya's body trembled violently.
She slowly lifted her head, meeting Chen Yuan's deep, pitch-black eyes.
What kind of eyes were those.
No affection, no pity, only bottomless darkness and killing intent.
Before coming, she had rehearsed countless times in her heart how to use her status as an elder to pressure him, how to tempt him with the Family's interests, and even how to morally coerce him.
But at this moment, after seeing this tangible, oppressive feeling from Chen Yuan.
Zhao Ya's psychological defenses completely collapsed.
All her schemes, arrogance, and disguises shattered into dust in the face of absolute power.
Amidst the incredulous gazes of all the Family members.
This once high-and-mighty mistress of the Family suddenly slid off the sofa.
With a "thump."
She knelt heavily before Chen Yuan's leather shoes.