37: Chapter 37 Expanding Territory: First, Buy This Nightclub

A black Lincoln slowly pulled to a stop at the busiest intersection in the city center.

Through the car window, a massive neon sign dyed the night sky a suggestive shade of pink—"Jile Nightclub."

This six-story Baroque-style building was like a money-devouring beast crouching in the night, consuming the wealth and desires of countless people.

Luxury cars gathered at the entrance, and scantily clad beauties of all kinds walked in and out, arm-in-arm with pot-bellied tycoons. The air was thick with a scent of decadence so strong it was almost rotting.

"Boss, we're here."

Victor opened the car door, respectfully shielding the top of the frame with his hand.

Chen Yuan stepped out, straightened his suit, and looked up at the flashing sign.

"Too tacky," he commented.

The nightclub manager, who had been waiting at the entrance—a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a tuxedo—was currently cowering like a quail, his back soaked through with cold sweat.

As Miguel's trusted aide, he naturally knew what had happened last night. Even his master had been chased off to the countryside to go fishing; as someone merely watching over the venue, his life and death now depended entirely on the whim of the young man before him.

"Mr... Mr. Chen."

The manager stumbled forward, bowing at a ninety-degree angle. "I'm the manager here; you can call me Old Jack. All the ledgers and keys are prepared and are in the office..."

"Lead the way."

Chen Yuan had no interest in listening to his nonsense and walked inside.

Entering the main hall, a deafening blast of heavy metal music hit him. On the dance floor, people were dancing wildly, countless twisted bodies rubbing against each other under the lights, and the air was filled with a strange mixture of marijuana, cheap perfume, and hormones.

Chen Yuan frowned and waved his hand in front of his nose.

"Turn off the music."

"Huh?" Old Jack paused. "But the customers..."

"I said, turn it off."

Chen Yuan stopped and glanced back at him. His gaze was calm, yet it made Old Jack feel as though a tyrant's gun barrel was pressed against his forehead.

"Yes! Turning it off immediately!"

A few seconds later, the music cut off abruptly. The crowd on the dance floor erupted into a flurry of dissatisfied commotion and swearing.

"What the hell is going on? Is the power out?"

"I paid to have a good time! Does that DJ not want to live anymore?"

Before the disturbance could escalate, dozens of burly men wearing black tactical vests and skull masks suddenly emerged from the shadows around the hall. They held submachine guns in their hands, watching the dance floor coldly.

The noise vanished instantly. Everyone looked like a duck whose neck had been throttled, staring in terror at this group of heavily armed gods of death.

Chen Yuan stood by the second-floor railing, looking down condescendingly at these "elites" whose bodies had been hollowed out by alcohol.

"Ladies and gentlemen, business for tonight is over."

His voice carried through the broadcast system across the entire venue. "We are undergoing renovations. As compensation, tonight's bill is on the house. Now, please leave in an orderly fashion."

No one dared to object.

In San Verde, a gun barrel was the ultimate eviction notice. In less than five minutes, the once-crowded nightclub became empty, leaving only trash on the floor and the lingering smell of smoke.

"Sophia."

Chen Yuan snapped his fingers.

Sophia, wearing a professional skirt suit that couldn't hide her fiery figure, walked out from behind. She was no longer just the head waitress of that small bar; she was the new head of "Jile" personally appointed by Chen Yuan.

"Boss, what are your orders?"

Sophia was flushed with excitement. She had dreamed of managing a venue like this; it was the crown jewel of the city's entertainment industry.

"It's too dirty here."

Chen Yuan pointed to the hidden corners. "Get rid of all the flesh-peddlers, drug dealers, and pimps. I won't allow such low-class contraband in my establishment."

Old Jack, listening from the side, kept wiping his sweat and couldn't help but whisper a reminder: "Mr. Chen, if we get rid of those... business will probably drop by more than half. The customers come here specifically for that..."

"Who said I wanted to do that kind of business?"

Chen Yuan sneered. "I want to turn this place into the most high-end intelligence exchange in San Verde, or even the whole of South America."

He turned to look at Sophia, his eyes burning:

"Renovate it. I want the best soundproofing materials and top-tier security systems. Tear down all those dim little private rooms and replace them with a grand, upscale style suitable for negotiating deals worth hundreds of millions."

"From now on, this place will only sell one thing—'Dali'."

"Mix our medicine into cocktails and sell them for a hundred dollars a glass. Tell those tycoons that what they're drinking here isn't just alcohol; it's vitality, it's dignity, it's the capital that will allow them to outlast their opponents at the negotiating table."

Sophia's eyes lit up.

She was a smart woman and instantly understood Chen Yuan's intent. Laundering. A complete whitewashing.

Replacing harmful drugs with the legal and more effective "Dali," and replacing vulgar physical transactions with high-end business socializing. This would not only avoid legal risks but also elevate the clientele from thugs to the true elite class.

"Understood, Boss!"

Sophia pulled a pre-prepared plan from her bag, pointed to the diagrams, and said:

"I plan to make the third floor membership-only. Only those with a net worth of over ten million or those holding significant power will be able to enter. We will install invisible listening devices in every private room connected to the Red Queen; this place will become your 'ears'."

"Whether it's intelligence on arms deals or the flow of political contributions, as long as it's spoken in these rooms, it will appear on your desk the very next second."

Chen Yuan nodded in satisfaction.

"Well done."

He reached out and pinched Sophia's cheek. "It seems I didn't choose the wrong person. Go ahead and do it; money is no object."

"Thank you, Boss!"

Sophia took the opportunity to nuzzle against his palm, her eyes alluring. "And my office..."

"Pick whichever you like."

Chen Yuan waved his hand, signaling Old Jack to lead the way. "Take me to the top-floor VIP area to have a look. Since we're setting up an intelligence center, that place must be an impregnable fortress."

The group took a private elevator to the sixth floor.

It was much quieter here than downstairs, and the decoration was extremely luxurious. Thick wool carpets swallowed the sound of footsteps, and expensive oil paintings hung on both sides of the corridor.

"Only three private rooms on this floor are currently occupied."

Old Jack introduced while wiping his sweat. "They are all Miguel's old clients; even when clearing the venue, it wasn't easy to kick them out. After all... they have guns."

Chen Yuan didn't speak, just walked along casually. When he passed a private room named the "Imperial Suite," his footsteps suddenly stopped.

Although the room was well soundproofed, his system-enhanced hearing still allowed him to capture a trace of unusual movement.

It wasn't the sound of clinking glasses, nor was it laughter. It was the sound of some heavy metal clashing, along with a few sentences spoken in hushed tones.

"...that shipment... purity..."

"...Russians... missiles..."

Chen Yuan's pupils constricted slightly.

He raised his hand, signaling the people behind him to stop. Sophia was about to ask, but was stopped by a look from Chen Yuan. He turned his head, like a hunting leopard, silently listening to the fragments of conversation leaking through the door crack.

"Don't worry, as soon as that guy Chen dies, San Verde will be ours."

"When will that shipment of 'Javelin' missiles arrive? We can't wait to put on a fireworks show for his Pharmaceutical Factory."

A cold arc curled at the corner of Chen Yuan's mouth.

What a small world. He wanted to turn this place into an intelligence center, and before it had even opened, the first big fish had come knocking on his door.

"Old Jack."

Chen Yuan turned his head, looking at the manager who was already so scared he was about to collapse, his voice as soft as if he were greeting an old friend:

"Who are those guests inside who want to set off fireworks for me...?"