108: Chapter 108 Three Punches Shatter the Werewolf's Soul

Today, in the banquet hall of the DYB Super Factory.

Long tables were laden with drinks and food. Farmers from around Yellowstone and town residents filled the seats, while Old Dalton, who had been invited, wore a complex expression.

Victor's security fees rose every year, yet cattle were attacked and people went missing without a single promised result. Their hearts were already brimming with resentment.

But their bone-deep xenophobia and the century-old prestige of the Victor family kept them from easily taking sides.

As the host of the banquet, Victor, had yet to appear, Old Dalton didn't dare to get up and leave, no matter how dissatisfied he was.

The banquet lasted from noon until sunset. As the orange-red dusk blanketed the desert, Victor's motorcade finally pulled up slowly at the factory entrance.

Victor walked into the hall leaning on a carved cane, followed by lawyers and bodyguards, his pace composed.

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He had intentionally arrived half a day late just to make this arrogant Chinese man wait.

To make him anxious, to make him angry, to make him feign composure... once the other party's mental state collapsed, he would appear leisurely and take control of the room with a single word.

He scanned the room, his gaze searching repeatedly through the crowd.

There was no anxiety, no anger, and no feigned composure... because he couldn't see the man at all!

The fake smile on Victor's lips froze for an instant.

The butler hurried over and whispered, "I just received word that Mr. Fu has been in his office the entire time and hasn't come out."

Victor's expression darkened instantly.

The show of authority he had so carefully planned wasn't taken seriously at all.

While he was putting on airs here, the other party hadn't wasted even a minute on him.

It felt like a solid punch hitting cotton; all the strength was spent, but not even a sound was heard.

Victor walked slowly to the head seat and sat down, thumping his cane on the floor.

The entire hall fell silent instantly.

Having received the news, Fu Haoran finally emerged from the conference room.

"Everyone, I've invited you all here today for one reason," Victor said with a hypocritical smile.

"Mr. Fu intends to acquire the Yellowstone Forest Farm and its surrounding supporting lands under my name. Today, we will hear Mr. Fu's plan, and then we will vote to decide whether to proceed with this transaction."

Victor glanced at Fu Haoran, his eyes full of calculation.

This banquet was never a democratic consultation.

On the surface, it was an opportunity for Fu Haoran to give a speech, but in reality, it was to put him in the hot seat.

These rednecks were xenophobic, stubborn, and stupid. Having controlled them for decades, he could make the other party lose face just by finding a minor fault.

Incidentally, he also wanted to see how many of these farmers dared to harbor ulterior motives behind his back, so he could settle accounts with them all at once later.

Fu Haoran walked onto the stage.

As soon as he stood still, heckling erupted from below.

"A yellow monkey thinks he's worthy of buying our land? Go back to your own country!"

"Chinese people are all scammers. I bet he'll be scurrying down in disgrace within three minutes!"

Several hot-tempered farmers shouted at the top of their lungs, and laughter immediately broke out around them. Old Dalton sat in the front row; he didn't join in the heckling, but he frowned, showing no sign of optimism.

Fu Haoran ignored the heckling. He picked up the microphone, and his first sentence suppressed the noise of the entire hall.

"I'm not here to talk about sentimentality or fluff today. I'm only going to say five things, all of which are linked to your daily lives."

"First: road construction."

"Route 395 will be built from your doorsteps to the interstate highway. It will be a four-lane concrete road, and it won't cost you a single penny."

The heckling immediately died down by half.

Someone muttered softly, "Who can't make empty promises? Politicians in an election year sound even better than you!"

Fu Haoran ignored it and continued, "Second: building a railway."

He switched the projection, and a planning map for a railway connecting Yellowstone directly to the West Coast ports was displayed.

The others' eyes lit up, knowing that with this railway, they could save a significant amount on shipping costs.

However, elders like Old Dalton felt this was absurd.

Because since the 1950s, America hadn't built any new railways.

The rich built private airports; who cared about the lives of ordinary people?

"Third: improving the power grid."

"Fourth: increasing the employment rate."

...

With every sentence Fu Haoran spoke, the discussion below grew louder.

The expressions of the rednecks shifted from initial rejection and mockery to wavering, and finally, their eyes were filled with uncontrollable excitement.

Sitting in the head seat, Victor's face darkened completely.

He had prepared a bellyful of nitpicking remarks, but none of them were used.

Fu Haoran didn't play by the rules at all. He used cold, hard promises to pull all the farmers Victor had controlled for decades over to the other side.

Just then, his personal bodyguard stepped quickly to his side, leaned down, and whispered, "Sir, they're here."

Victor's expression cleared instantly, and a hypocritical smile returned to his lips.

He stood up and nodded to Fu Haoran on stage. "Mr. Fu's plan is brilliant. I need to check the legal details of the acquisition with my legal team. Excuse me for a moment."

As he turned to leave, a subordinate whispered, "My Lord, should we have the farmers withdraw with us first?"

Victor glared fiercely at his subordinate, said nothing, and walked quickly out of the banquet hall.

These rednecks were human bait he had prepared from the start.

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...

After Victor left, the farmers and town residents became more proactive, crowding around to ask about contract details.

After some conversation, Fu Haoran was confident; he was ninety percent sure he could secure this land.

Suddenly, the banquet hall doors were kicked open, shattering them and sending glass shards flying everywhere.

Lucian walked in swaggeringly with a dozen blood-covered subordinates. His eyes were violent as he scanned the room, roaring with bloodshot eyes:

"Where is that old bastard Victor?! He sold me out, trying to use the National Guard to kill me. Where is he?!"

No one answered.

Lucian's temper flared even more. His gaze finally landed on Fu Haoran on the stage. With a sneer, he raised his gun and aimed it at him. "Since the old bastard isn't here, I'll start with you! Get down here!"

Fu Haoran glanced at him and spoke leisurely, "Where did this stray dog come from, daring to bark here?"

These words struck Lucian's sore spot directly.

His face flushed instantly as he cursed, "You're fucking dead!"

Before he finished speaking, a low beastly growl erupted from his throat. His muscles swelled at a visible rate, his clothes tearing apart. Thick black fur burst from beneath his skin, and fangs and claws snapped out instantly.

Tonight was a full moon, and the werewolf's power was magnified to its peak.

In just a few seconds, he transformed into a black giant wolf nearly three meters tall. His crimson eyes were filled with bloodthirsty killing intent as he threw back his head and let out a howl that shook the hall.

The farmers were terrified. The shotgun in Old Dalton's hand nearly fell to the ground.

The werewolf legends they had heard all their lives were actually true!

The giant wolf Lucian roared and charged at Fu Haoran, his bloody maw wide open, a foul wind hitting him. Everyone in the hall closed their eyes in fear.

"Slap!"

A crisp sound rang out.

Fu Haoran stood his ground. With a backhand slap, he sent the three-meter-tall giant wolf flying. It slammed into the wall, creating a deep crater.

The entire hall fell into instant silence.

Lucian crawled out from the wall, completely dazed.

He couldn't believe he had been sent flying by a single slap.

It must have been the wrong posture, or he wasn't in good condition; it couldn't possibly be that he was no match for this yellow kid!

He let out another furious roar and used all his strength to swing a claw at Fu Haoran's head. The claws whistled through the air, capable of easily tearing through steel plates.

Fu Haoran finally moved.

He sidestepped the claws and slammed his first punch into the wolf's belly.

The sound of bones cracking was clearly audible.

Lucian doubled over like a shrimp and flew backward, smashing through three solid wood dining tables. He vomited bile and blood all over the floor, his eyes full of disbelief.

Before he could get up, Fu Haoran was already in front of him, landing a second punch on his wolf snout.

With a crack, half of a fang was broken off, and half of his face collapsed.

Lucian let out a non-human scream. His werewolf form began to destabilize, and much of his fur receded. He was finally terrified, struggling to retreat while whimpering for mercy.

Fu Haoran knelt down and looked at him, his tone flat. "Weren't you quite arrogant just now?"

The third punch slammed heavily into his temple.

Lucian's body shriveled instantly, reverting to human form. He lay curled on the ground, covered in blood, most of his teeth gone, his entire body shaking.

All his previous bravado was gone; he could only kowtow repeatedly to Fu Haoran, crying and begging for his life.

Everyone was stunned, even forgetting to breathe.

The legendary monster who killed without blinking and whom even the police couldn't control had been beaten back to his original form and forced to beg for mercy by this young man with just three punches?

Fu Haoran brushed the dust off his hands and smiled at the terrified farmers. "Sorry about that. A few tables were broken; charge them to Victor's account."

Just then, from the distant mountains and forests, howls of wolves rose one after another, getting closer and closer.

Lucian, on the ground, instantly regained his confidence. He struggled to look up and sneered, "I have five thousand brothers right outside! If you're smart, let me go and hand over Victor, or else you're all going to die here today!"

Fu Haoran looked down at him, expressionless. "First, whatever mess you have with Victor has nothing to do with me."

"Second, you don't really think that your five thousand pieces of trash are worthy of threatening me, do you?"

In the gap while he was speaking, Lucian seized the opportunity to transform into a werewolf again, smashed through a window, and charged like a madman into the night.

Fu Haoran waved his hand. "No need to chase him. If he has any brains at all, he should know to go settle accounts with Victor."

However, the reality check came swiftly. The Security Captain stepped forward quickly, his expression grave. "Governor, the auspex has detected that the enemy's route hasn't changed. A large force of werewolves is approaching our factory and has already entered the 3-kilometer perimeter."

Fu Haoran was stunned for a moment, then laughed out of anger. "Idiots! They don't even know they're being used as pawns. Are they really just transformed Huskies?!"

He turned and coldly ordered the Security Captain, "Pass the word: leave none alive who dare to cross the perimeter."

"Yes, sir!"

In the banquet hall, the terrified farmers finally snapped out of it. They wanted to leave, but in the night outside the factory, the wolf howls were drawing closer, and the roar of armored vehicle engines could be heard faintly from deep within the desert.

All the rednecks realized that they could no longer leave.

But staying in this open factory, what difference was there between that and running naked outside?!