32: Chapter 32 My security team only has five hundred people, but none of them are human.

The smoke from Widows Village had dissipated, but the trouble it brought back had only just begun.

Those crates of RPG rocket launchers stamped with Cyrillic letters were like thorns pricking right under Chen Yuan's eyelids. The Russians—these polar bears were never good-natured. Once they set their sights on you, they would bite and tear until you were dead.

In the Pharmaceutical Factory office, Victor was holding a casualty list, looking distressed.

"Boss, although we won last night, our guards suffered over a dozen casualties."

Victor sucked his teeth in distress. "Even with the exoskeleton protection, no one died, but quite a few suffered broken arms and legs. Those Russian bastards fight too dirty, and... our men are flesh and blood after all. Once they see blood, they'll inevitably feel fear."

Chen Yuan sat in his boss chair, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.

"Fear?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes revealing a hint of coldness. "Of course people feel fear. They feel pain, fear, hesitation, and might even betray their employer at a critical moment to save their own lives."

This was the inherent flaw of humanity, an unfixable bug.

That so-called "Umbrella Guard" was fine for bullying street thugs, but if they were to face well-trained special agents or regular troops, they would crumble like a pile of loose sand.

"Victor, go clear out the fourth basement level."

Chen Yuan suddenly stood up and straightened his cuffs. "I want that place turned into a training ground."

"The fourth basement level?" Victor was stunned. "That place is empty; there isn't even a mouse there."

"It was empty before."

Chen Yuan walked over to Victor and patted his trembling, chubby face. "But from today on, a real army will be stationed there."

"An army that... doesn't know what 'pain' is."

...

Half an hour later, the fourth basement level.

This space had originally been reserved for expanding the production line and was as large as two football fields. At this moment, the vast space was deathly silent, with only the faint buzzing sound of the cold lights overhead.

Chen Yuan stood on a high platform, his consciousness sinking into the system store.

【Bio-Weapon R&D Center (Intermediate)】 Ready.

【T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrant】

【Cost: 50,000 USD/unit】

【Features: 2.2 meters tall, incredible strength, pain suppression, possesses basic tactical intelligence, can execute complex commands. Although its individual combat power is inferior to the T-800 prototype, it excels in being mass-producible and has a more human-like appearance.】

"Five hundred thousand each, five hundred of them is..."

Chen Yuan looked at the massive sum of money he had just extorted from the Rothschild Family, not even blinking an eye.

"System, mass-produce them for me."

"Five hundred T-103s; I can afford it now."

As the funds were crazily deducted, the rows of huge metal incubation pods deep in the originally empty underground warehouse began to operate. Green nutrient fluid surged through the pipes like the blood of a monster.

Ten minutes.

In just ten minutes, that thick airtight door slowly opened.

"Thump, thump, thump."

The heavy footsteps were uniform, sounding like countless war drums beating simultaneously.

Victor stood behind Chen Yuan. Originally, he had been curious about what the boss was going to show him, but when the first row of figures emerged from the mist, he felt his heart skip a beat.

Are those people?

All wearing black trench coats, wide-brimmed hats, and sunglasses.

They were over 2.2 meters tall, with shoulders as broad as a wall. Their skin had an eerie grayish-white hue, their faces were devoid of any expression, and even their breathing was barely perceptible.

One, two, ten...

One hundred, two hundred...

A full five hundred giants walked into the plaza with identical paces. They didn't whisper to each other, made no eye contact, just like five hundred precision machines that had just come off the assembly line.

"Attention."

Chen Yuan spoke two words softly into the microphone.

"BOOM!"

Five hundred pairs of leather boots stomped the ground simultaneously.

The entire basement trembled, and the echo lingered for a long time.

Victor's legs went weak, and he almost knelt on the ground. He grabbed the railing, his teeth chattering: "Bo... Boss, wh... where did these come from? Did you clone Schwarzenegger?"

This murderous aura was more terrifying than any special forces unit he had ever seen.

Because there was no "humanity" there.

Only a coldness that existed purely for slaughter.

"Let me introduce them."

Chen Yuan turned around, looking at Victor's pale face, and smiled with satisfaction. "This is our new security team."

"T-103 Mass-Produced Tyrants. You can call them the 'Tyrant Guard'."

"They don't need wages, don't need vacations, and don't need pensions. If you tell them to block a hail of bullets, they won't even blink."

Chen Yuan walked to the railing and pointed to the sea of black below:

"Victor, do you think that with these five hundred 'people', we can wipe out that so-called 'Siberian Trading Company'?"

Victor swallowed hard and said with difficulty: "Forget wiping them out... Boss, if you wanted to flip that land over and plow it again, that would be enough."

This was the charm of biotechnology.

This was the thrill of a mass-production army.

As long as there was money and energy, an army could be produced endlessly like cola on an assembly line. Russian agents, Mexican drug lords—in the face of absolute quantity and quality, they were all jokes.

"Very good."

Chen Yuan snapped his fingers. "Equip them with the best weapons. The AK47 is too light; give each of them a squad machine gun and two RPGs."

"I want the underground world of San Verde to know what the 'Terminator of Firepower Deficiency Syndrome' is."

Victor looked at those expressionless Tyrants, and in his mind, he could already picture them sweeping the streets with heavy machine guns.

That wasn't a battle.

That was a harvest.

Just as Chen Yuan was immersed in the thrill of being about to steamroll everything, the red alarm light on the wall suddenly flashed, breaking the murderous atmosphere.

It was an intrusion alarm.

And it was a top-level internal intrusion.

"Someone got in?"

Chen Yuan frowned.

This was the fourth basement level, with layers of checkpoints outside and Tyrants on guard; not even a fly could get in.

"Boss."

Alice's voice sounded over the communicator, sounding somewhat cold, with a hint of disdain:

"Caught a little mouse."

"Pretty good skills, almost made it to the ventilation shaft of the core laboratory. Unfortunately, the perfume on her was too strong."

"Bring her over."

Chen Yuan snorted coldly.

A few minutes later, the elevator door opened.

Alice dragged out a woman bound with special alloy cables and tossed her at Chen Yuan's feet.

She was an extremely hot woman.

A head of dazzling red hair, her tight-fitting night-ops suit was slashed in several places, revealing large patches of snow-white skin covered in scars. Her figure was provocatively hot, especially those legs—they were amazingly long.

Even tied up like this, her eyes were still like an untamed beast, staring fixedly at Chen Yuan; it was the typical tenacity and madness peculiar to the Slavic race.

"Russian?"

Chen Yuan squatted down, pinched the woman's chin, and forced her to look up.

That face had a bit of unruliness, and there was still a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth.

"Tsk tsk, nice figure."

Chen Yuan's gaze swept over her, his tone playful. "Looks like that 'Siberian Trading Company' doesn't just sell arms; they also moonlight as a delivery service?"

The woman spat forcefully, the bloody saliva landing on Chen Yuan's shiny leather shoes.

"I came to send you to hell."

Her English had a heavy Russian accent, her voice raspy and sexy. "Yellow-skinned monkey, you'd better kill me now. Otherwise, once I break free, I will tear out your intestines and strangle you with them!"

"Got spirit."

Chen Yuan wasn't angry; instead, he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and slowly wiped the stain off his shoe.

He stood up, looking down at the red-haired stunner, a cruel smile curling the corner of his mouth:

"Want to die? That would be too easy for you."

"Alice, take her to the interrogation room."

"Remember to put that newly developed 'Neuro-Induction Suit' on her. I'm very curious to see if this beautiful Russian lady can still scream so loudly after her pain perception is amplified tenfold."