166: Hyena's sense of smell

Giant Star Mining, Kala Star Sector Branch, Marketing Director's Office.

The office was as luxurious as a cold, metallic art gallery. Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows lay a brilliant river of stars where countless starships traversed.

A sophisticated-looking, seemingly mild and harmless middle-aged man was boredly flipping through a report.

"Hanhai Trade? That thing cooked up by those mud-legged peasants on Ashen Earth Star?" He chuckled softly, casually tossing the report aside. "Every year there are mice like this who want to challenge the lion. Any that survive past three months are considered long-lived."

This man was none other than the Marketing Director of Giant Star Mining, Hoffman.

Just then, the office door was shoved open violently.

"Director!" An intelligence analyst rushed in panting, his face filled with irrepressible excitement. "Latest intel! It's about Hanhai Trade!"

"Oh?" Hoffman lazily lifted his eyelids. "Did that mouse choke to death on its own ambition?"

"Pre... pretty much!" The analyst projected a data report into the air. "Their energy blocks have suffered a massive outbreak of failures across the market! The failure rate is holding steady at around five percent!"

Hoffman's gaze swept over the report. When he saw the technical term 'Law Resonance Decay,' a flash of greed and cruelty—like a hyena smelling blood—instantly flickered in those gentle eyes.

The smile on his face became incredibly radiant.

"Five percent... not too much, not too little. Just the perfect number to trigger a panic without immediately bankrupting them, allowing us to slowly torture them."

He stood up and walked to the window, admiring his galactic empire.

"Contact my 'Blackwater' team immediately." His voice calmed down, yet it carried a chilling ruthlessness. "Tell them there's work to do."

"Director, the PR strategy is..."

"I don't want explanations, I don't want refutations—I want panic." Hoffman turned around with a kind smile, but his words sounded like a curse from hell. "Frame Hanhai's energy blocks as a 'Pocket Hell' that could explode in your arms at any time. I want everyone who has used it to regret it, everyone who hasn't to feel lucky, and everyone thinking of buying it to be terrified."

"I... I understand!" The analyst shuddered, terrified by the madness in his eyes, and scrambled out of the room.

Hanhai Trade Base, Eve's laboratory.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it felt frozen.

"It's my fault." Eve's voice was hoarse as she pointed at a complex model on the screen, explaining to Chen Feng and Su Li. "To achieve extreme cost and efficiency, my Dimensional Reduction Adaptation Model relied too heavily on a 'biocatalytic' structure to bridge the differences in Laws. However, in certain specific, high-intensity cosmic ray environments, this catalytic structure collapses prematurely... leading to energy dissipation, which is the 'sudden failure' they encountered."

Her eyes were bloodshot, filled with pain and frustration.

"Give me a little more time," she pleaded almost desperately. "I can definitely find an alternative. I can iterate on it, I can..."

"The enemy won't give us time," Chen Feng interrupted her, his voice exceptionally calm.

As if to confirm his words, alarms began to flash frantically on the Command Center's main screen.

A long-premeditated storm of public opinion instantly erupted in the dark corners of the Pan-Universe Network.

In virtual bars where mercenaries gathered, equipment forums, and secret smuggler channels, countless posts sprouted like mushrooms after rain.

"[A Blood-and-Tear Accusation] Deadly Hanhai energy blocks almost caused my ship to crash and everyone to die!"

"[Emergency Warning] Don't touch! These aren't energy blocks at all; they are lethal traps from a low dimension!"

The posts were accompanied by incredibly realistic pictures and videos forged with special effects. Burning ship wreckage, mangled limbs from exploded power exoskeletons, bases swallowed by fire... the visual impact and sensationalist titles instantly ignited everyone's fear.

Immediately following this, several 'KOLs' with minor fame in the mercenary circle joined the fray.

An equipment review blogger known for being 'honest and reliable' wept during a livestream: "My best friend used those damn energy blocks! During an escort mission, his ship stalled and he was torn apart alive by star pirates! I hate that I recommended it! I hate myself!"

A sexy war correspondent released a meticulously edited video. In it, she held the orphan of a 'victim,' crying piteously: "He just wanted to save some money to buy his daughter a pair of dancing shoes... Now, those shoes will never wait for their owner again..."

Panic, like the most terrible plague, spread through the network at the speed of light.

On the bridge of the 'Pioneer,' Old Knife's personal communication channel was about to explode.

"Old Knife! What kind of murderous crap are you fucking selling!"

"All the cargo on my ship was recommended by you. Now that something's gone wrong, you must take responsibility!"

"Refund! Compensation! Or we'll join together to sue you in commercial court!"

Angry interrogations, vicious curses, threats from peers... various voices mixed together like countless hands trying to drag Old Knife into the abyss.

He stared blankly at the mountain of second-batch goods in the warehouse. Those blue glows he once viewed as hope now looked like countless eyes of mockery and curses.

Fear and a deep sense of betrayal seized his heart.

Hanhai Trade, Command Center.

On the main screen, the curve representing sales plummeted in a tragic, nearly vertical cliff-dive.

Finally, it hit the horizontal axis.

Zero.

"All distributors have unilaterally terminated their contracts," Su Li reported expressionlessly, her voice like a cold machine. "They are banding together to demand a full refund of all payments and are reserving the right to pursue massive damages."

She paused for a moment before adding one more thing.

"According to my calculations, within one week, we will be forced into bankruptcy liquidation due to insolvency."

The entire Command Center was deathly silent; not even the sound of breathing could be heard.

In a corner of the screen, a communication request icon flickered desperately and stubbornly.

On the icon was Old Knife's face, now completely drained of color.

In the second week after its first product was officially launched, Hanhai Trade faced the dual death of its reputation and its market.

This time, it seemed there were no miracles left to speak of.