44: Chapter 44 I just love seeing you guys hate me but can't do anything about it.

That middle finger was like a thorn, piercing deeply into the eyes of everyone who peered at this battlefield through the drone cameras.

Humiliation.

Naked, undisguised humiliation from the Victor.

Washington, Langley, CIA Headquarters.

The huge circular conference room was filled with suited bigwigs, and the atmosphere was so oppressive you could wring water from it. The main screen was looping the combat video, 'carefully edited' by Red Queen.

Tearing tanks apart with bare hands.

Mecha slaughter.

And finally, that arrogant figure of a man standing amidst the flames.

"Is this what you called 'controllable risk'?"

The Deputy Director, a white-haired old man sitting in the main seat, spoke with a voice as cold as a Siberian wind. "Agent James, how did you report to me back then? 'A slightly clever arms dealer'?

"Now, this 'little dealer' not only has his own army, but he's even built Gundams!"

"Tell me, is his next step to build a space battleship to attack the White House?"

James, standing in front of the screen, was pale, his shirt collar soaked with sweat.

"Sir, this is my dereliction of duty."

He swallowed with difficulty. "We severely underestimated his technological level and... his madness. He's not playing house; he's establishing an independent Military Kingdom."

"Kingdom?" The Deputy Director sneered. "So now, who can tell me how we deal with this 'king'?"

The conference room fell silent.

Send in the army?

What a joke. That place is nominally Mexican territory; deploying regular troops would be an act of war. Moreover, with that 'herbicide' in his hands that can corrode tanks, who can guarantee he doesn't have larger quantities?

Send in agents?

Even fully armed 'Black Ops' teams were turned into fertilizer; sending a few agents over, would that even be enough to fill his teeth?

"First, list him as the highest-level threat target."

The Deputy Director waved his hand wearily. "Codename... 'Prometheus.' The Titan who stole divine fire will eventually be chained to Mount Caucasus."

"Activate the 'Hive' project. At all costs, infiltrate him, monitor him, find his weaknesses."

"I don't believe there's anyone in this world who can't be killed."

The same scene unfolded in Moscow, in London, in every corner of the world with a top-tier intelligence agency.

The "Chen Yuan file" was quickly established, with an encryption level even surpassing that of some national leaders.

And in these files, the description of him was surprisingly consistent:

[Extremely Dangerous]

[Extremely Arrogant]

[Extremely... Rich]

Meanwhile, the global underground world completely exploded.

The Dark Web, a place that gathered assassins, mercenaries, intelligence dealers, and perverts from all over the world, was currently being flooded with a post titled [San Verde Slaughterhouse Night].

The video was only three minutes long.

No bloody close-ups, only distant, grand scenes like an epic war film.

The image of that five-meter-tall bio-mecha tearing apart a tank with its bare hands was made into countless GIFs, spreading wildly across major forums.

"Holy crap! What movie company's promotional video is this? The special effects are too realistic!"

"Upstairs, that's not special effects. A friend of mine who makes a living in 'Warhammer' confirmed that his commander, Colonel Mike's, urn was delivered home yesterday."

"Hiss—a three-hundred-person heavily armed mercenary group, gone in ten minutes? Is that Easterner a devil?"

"More than a devil! Look at what's under his feet! That's an M1A2 turret! Stepping on a tank and flipping the bird, this display of arrogance gets a perfect score from me!"

Below the video, the bounty for Chen Yuan was soaring at a visible rate.

From the initial five hundred thousand US dollars, it quickly broke through ten million, fifty million...

Finally, an anonymous top consortium directly posted a sky-high price of one hundred million US dollars.

[Target: Chen Yuan]

[Dead or Alive]

One hundred million US dollars for a head, this was rare in the history of the Dark Web.

The entire underground world was boiling.

Countless top assassins and mercenary groups lurking around the world, like sharks smelling blood, began to turn their attention to that inconspicuous small border town in Mexico.

However, as the center of all this storm, Chen Yuan himself appeared unusually leisurely.

Pharmaceutical Factory, top floor office.

He was sitting with his legs crossed, sipping the Dahongpao tea Alice had just brewed, while refreshingly browsing the Dark Web's bounty page with great interest.

"Only a hundred million?"

Chen Yuan pouted with some dissatisfaction. "It seems my influence isn't big enough. Back then, the bounty for assassinating Kennedy, converted to today's money, would be at least a billion, right?"

"Boss, please stop being so humble."

Victor wiped sweat from his brow beside him, his expression uglier than crying. "Now assassins from all over the world are staring at you! Do you still have the mood to drink tea here?"

"Otherwise?"

Chen Yuan blew on the hot tea in his cup. "Should I hide in the basement, trembling with fear? That wouldn't fit my persona."

He opened the bounty post and slowly added a reply below it.

He used the account he had just registered, with the ID "Umbrella CEO."

His reply was simple, just one sentence, accompanied by a photo of him sitting on a pile of corpses, smoking a cigar.

"I just love seeing you hate me, yet can't do anything about it."

Arrogant.

Arrogant to the extreme.

This reply instantly ignited the entire forum.

"Fuck! This kid is too wild! Is he challenging the whole world?"

"I like it! So cool! I'm a fan, I'm a fan!"

"Upstairs, are you perhaps a masochist? This is a devil who kills without blinking!"

"So what if he's a devil? He's handsome! Sisters, let's form a group and go to San Verde to seduce him!"

Chen Yuan looked at the chaotic replies, his mood greatly improved.

This was exactly the effect he wanted.

Fear is the best weapon, and even higher than fear is turning fear into awe.

"Alright, ignore those sycophants and keyboard warriors."

Chen Yuan turned off the computer, stood up, and stretched. "After a victory, the troops must be rewarded."

"Notify everyone, we're holding a celebration banquet tonight at the Jile Nightclub."

"Bring out all our best wine, and call all the prettiest girls."

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the streets outside that were gradually returning to order but were noticeably 'cleaner' than before, a wicked smile curving his lips.

"Tell the brothers, we won't go home until we're drunk tonight."

"And by the way... let those rats hiding in the dark see."

Chen Yuan looked at his handsome face reflected in the glass and murmured softly:

"My people are not only capable fighters."

"They can also enjoy victory."

"And they can only watch enviously from the gutters."