197: Chapter 197 Isolation at the Round Table

The meeting room was eerily quiet.

Twelve old men in top-tier bespoke suits sat around a round table, like twelve emotionless sculptures. The family crests behind them gleamed coldly under the lights, each representing a history of plunder and monopoly.

The air was filled with the scent of expensive cigars and old decay.

Old Ross sat at the head of the table, his fingers gently tapping the thick, all-English agreement.

"Mr. Chen, time is precious," Old Ross's voice was hoarse, carrying an undeniable arrogance. "Sign it, hand over Pangu Biology's core algorithm and the 'Future Energy' formula, and Huihuang Group can keep the Huaguo market. Otherwise, when the sun rises tomorrow, you won't be able to buy a single screw."

Bernard, the French luxury goods magnate sitting on the left, sneered, picked up the pure gold pen, and signed his name on the agreement.

"Chen, young people should have respect," Bernard tossed the pen to the next person. "We control global shipping, chips, and precision machine tools. Crushing you is like crushing an ant."

Immediately after, the German heavy industry giant, the American energy tycoon, the Japanese zaibatsu representative... one by one, they signed their names in a relay.

The scratching sound of the pen on paper was particularly harsh in the silent ancient castle.

This was a silent execution.

They were flexing their muscles of power to Chen Fan. This was the rule of the old world: prosper if you obey me, perish if you defy me.

In less than three minutes, twelve names filled the last page of the agreement.

The agreement was pushed in front of Chen Fan.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on Chen Fan. There was mockery, ridicule, and that condescending pity.

Chen Haoyu, standing behind Chen Fan, had his hand on his waist, muscles tensed. Chen Muyang's eyes were cold, staring intently at Old Ross's wrinkled face.

Chen Fan leaned back in his chair, his expression as calm as still water.

He didn't even glance at the agreement.

"Muyang," Chen Fan said faintly.

Chen Muyang understood, pulled out a silver cigarette case from his pocket, took out a cigar and handed it to his father, then took out a lighter and lit it with a 'snap'.

A blue flame danced.

Chen Fan took a deep puff, the pungent smoke swirling in his lungs before slowly exhaling.

The thick white smoke directly sprayed onto the agreement, and also towards Old Ross opposite him.

"Cough, cough..." Old Ross frowned and waved his hand, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. "Chen Fan, are you challenging our patience?"

Chen Fan held the cigar, his finger gently tapping on the table.

"Old Ross, and everyone present," Chen Fan's voice wasn't loud, but it echoed in the meeting room. "Have you been in this ancient castle too long, and your brains have rusted?"

"What?" Bernard slammed the table. "Presumptuous!"

Chen Fan ignored his anger and reached for the agreement.

Just when everyone thought he was going to yield or tear up the agreement, Chen Fan used it as a fan, gently fanning away the smoke in front of him.

"I didn't come here to listen to your nonsense."

Chen Fan casually threw the agreement on the floor, like trash.

"System, activate panoramic analysis," he muttered in his mind.

[Future Industry Trend Analysis Model activated.]

[Target group: Twelve member families of the Round Table conference.]

[Scanning for financial loopholes and core risks... Scan complete.]

Chen Fan's gaze swept over everyone present. In his vision, a red 'Danger' character hung above the heads of these twelve glamorous magnates.

"Mr. Bernard," Chen Fan looked at the French old man, a playful arc forming at the corner of his mouth. "You just said you wanted to blacklist me? If I'm not mistaken, your family's cash flow has already dried up, hasn't it? The Asian market has plummeted for three consecutive quarters, and your tens of billions in loans from the Swiss bank are due next week. Are you signing this now because you want to drag me down with you?"

Bernard's face instantly turned pale, the red wine glass in his hand trembled, and the wine spilled onto the white tablecloth, like a pool of blood.

This was the highest family secret, how did Chen Fan know?!

The atmosphere in the meeting room changed. The magnates, who had been watching the show, now had flickering eyes.

Chen Fan gave them no chance to breathe, turning his gaze to the bald German man on the right.

"And you, Mr. Schmidt," Chen Fan exhaled a smoke ring. "Your proudly boasted core patent for precision machine tools was actually surpassed by a newcomer three years ago. You're currently relying on falsified data to maintain your stock price. If this evaluation report appears on the Frankfurt Stock Exchange, what do you think will happen to your stock price?"

Schmidt suddenly stood up, his chair scraping the floor with a harsh shriek: "You... you're talking nonsense!"

"Whether it's nonsense or not, you know in your heart," Chen Fan looked at him coldly. "Do you want me to recite the specific parameters of your falsification?"

Schmidt opened his mouth, then slumped back down, his forehead covered in cold sweat.

Chen Fan pointed them out one by one, as if calling roll.

"Your energy group is suspected of illegal pollution discharge in Africa, and the evidence is in the hands of international environmental organizations."

"Your chip yield rate is only 40%, and you're surviving entirely on government subsidies."

"Your family trust fund has been hollowed out by professional managers; you're just an empty shell now."

Each sentence was like a precise scalpel, fiercely stabbing into the most vulnerable arteries of these magnates.

The twelve once-arrogant giants now looked ashen, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Their proud alliance, in the face of Chen Fan's intelligence, was as fragile as a soaked piece of toilet paper.

A young woman in a red evening gown, sitting at the far end, a collateral princess of a European royal family, had originally come to watch Chen Fan's humiliation. Now, she stared at Chen Fan with an almost obsessive gaze.

This Eastern man was too strong.

In front of a pack of lions, not only was he not torn apart, but he had trained the lions into poodles.

She secretly unbuttoned a button at her collar, trying to show goodwill to Chen Fan with her eyes.

Chen Fan didn't even look at her.

"So," Chen Fan extinguished his cigar in the priceless antique ashtray and stood up. "This agreement is invalid for Huihuang Group. As for you, you should seriously think about how to beg me so that Huihuang Group doesn't acquire your mess."

"Enough!"

Old Ross finally couldn't keep up the pretense.

He violently grabbed the teacup in front of him and smashed it to the ground.

"Bang!"

Porcelain shards scattered.

This was the signal.

"You refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit." Old Ross stood up, his aged face filled with ferocious killing intent. "Chen Fan, do you really think you can walk out of Davos alive after knowing these secrets?"

"This is Switzerland! This is my territory!"

As the sound of the shattered cup faded, the heavy oak door of the meeting room was violently kicked open from the outside.

"Whoosh——"

Dozens of armed bodyguards in black combat uniforms, carrying automatic rifles, rushed in.

The dark muzzles instantly locked onto the heads of Chen Fan, Chen Muyang, and Chen Haoyu.

Red laser sights densely covered Chen Fan's chest and forehead.

Although the twelve magnates had their secrets exposed by Chen Fan, seeing this scene, their faces resumed their ferocious smiles.

What if he knows secrets? Dead men tell no tales.

Old Ross leaned on his cane, walking step by step towards Chen Fan, his eyes venomous from two meters away.

"Young man, if we can't beat you in business, we'll play a different game." Old Ross pointed at Chen Fan's nose. "Here, I am God. If I want you dead, you will die."

Facing dozens of guns, Chen Muyang and Chen Haoyu instantly stood in front of Chen Fan, their guns already cocked.

But there were too many opponents, and the firepower was completely uneven.

Chen Fan, however, gently pushed aside his son and subordinate.

He adjusted the collar of his overcoat, looked at Old Ross, and revealed the smile that had made countless opponents tremble with fear.

"God?"

Chen Fan raised his hand and pulled out his phone from his pocket.

On the screen, a red button was flashing.

"Old Ross, you know nothing about power."

Chen Fan, in front of everyone, gently pressed the red button with his thumb.

"Beep."

A crisp notification sound echoed in the dead silent meeting room.

The next second.

Outside the ancient castle, a huge roar, as if tearing the sky apart, could be heard.