112: Chapter 112 The Pentagon's Black Book and the Military's Admission Ticket

In a top-secret briefing room at Pentagon, Tom sat at the very end of the long table, his palms drenched in sweat.

This book was first published across the entire network.

The highest-ranking official he had ever seen in his life was his university President.

Now, the Secretary of Defense, the Army Chief of Staff, the CIA Director, and even the President himself were all sitting across from him, staring him down.

Three days ago, FBI agents had knocked on his door at the Yellowstone hotel and ushered him onto a transport plane without windows.

He thought he had committed some crime, until the plane landed and he was led into this meeting room, only then realizing he was one of the few witnesses to the attack.

Or rather, a person who had experienced the entire event.

Tom stumbled through his report of what happened that night.

"I was hiding on the outskirts of the DYB factory; I only saw the latter half, the close-quarters cleanup."

"DYB's security personnel used modified electric batons and chainswords for melee combat. When they pursued, they mostly used electric vehicles developed in-house at their factory."

The Army Chief of Staff frowned. "What about laser weapons? Did you see any lasers?"

Tom swallowed hard. "I... I'm not quite sure if those were lasers or tracer rounds."

"By the time I arrived, the werewolves had already stormed into the factory."

Although they didn't get the answer they wanted, no one pressed further, and the atmosphere relaxed considerably.

A power capable of using laser weapons wouldn't possibly engage in hand-to-hand combat; this wasn't a space opera.

The President leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh of relief.

It wasn't an infiltration by a foreign power, nor some mysterious army, just the modified toys of a local tycoon. Chainswords, electric batons, electric vehicles chasing people... it sounded like an armed party for some redneck nouveau riche.

What the high-ranking officials feared most was a foreign power sneaking into the homeland and using black technology that surpassed the US Army's.

After all that, it was just a local tech company using modified civilian equipment to take care of mutated monsters; it didn't qualify as a national-level threat.

"Anything else?" the CIA Director pressed.

Tom hesitated for a moment before pulling up a video on his phone. "I captured this."

In the footage, an engineer wearing a metal exoskeleton lifted a battery pack weighing over a hundred kilograms with one hand, as easily as holding a cup of water.

The meeting room fell silent instantly.

The Secretary of Defense immediately smelled the potential for profit in a new project and asked impatiently, "What is this?"

"It's an... exoskeleton they use for moving cargo in the factory," Tom said cautiously.

The officers in the room immediately exchanged glances, wild joy welling up in their eyes.

The military had poured billions of dollars into developing the TALOS future soldier exoskeleton, which had been a failure for over a decade—overweight, with only a two-hour battery life and a sky-high failure rate, making it impossible to deploy.

A civilian company that mainly sold power banks had actually turned this technology into a mass-produced product?

Everyone present was a seasoned veteran; they already saw a new project that could swindle funding out of the gentlemen in Congress.

As for the threat... please, compared to some ethereal infiltration threat, military technology that could actually be implemented was real political achievement and profit.

The President made an immediate decision, his tone decisive: "Form a special investigation team and head to the Yellowstone DYB Super Factory immediately."

"The pretext will be... verifying the details of the attack."

Everyone shared a knowing smile. Verifying the attack? They were clearly going to scout out the technology and assess its value for military conversion.

...

Pentagon's technical team worked through the night, analyzing the missile wreckage excavated from the ruins of Victor's manor.

When the report came out, everyone fell silent.

"Sir, it's confirmed. It's a standard casing from our active-duty GBU-28 bunker busters. The serial numbers were deliberately ground off, but the material and structure are identical."

The Secretary of Defense was furious, slamming the table as he ordered, "Immediately initiate an audit of all military arsenals! Thoroughly investigate all inventory records from the last five years and find the source of the theft!"

The Army Chief of Staff suddenly stood up, pinning his hand down firmly, his tone harsh: "Do you want to die?"

"When they tried to audit Pentagon years ago, the lead audit team's private plane crashed. Have you forgotten that?"

"Our military accounts are a bottomless black hole. A thousand-dollar cup of coffee, a ten-thousand-dollar steak, billions in weaponry with mysterious whereabouts... any investigation will reveal a staggering scandal."

"Whoever audits it dies. Can you handle that? Or can the President?"

Dead silence filled the room.

Everyone snapped back to their senses instantly.

This matter could absolutely not be investigated deeply; if it were, the entire Pentagon would be overturned.

The Secretary of Defense rubbed his temples and asked, "So, what you're saying is..."

"This matter absolutely cannot be investigated deeply." The Army Chief of Staff blew a smoke ring. "If we keep digging, it will be the greatest scandal of the century for the US Army. No one can withstand it, including the President."

"Following protocol, we'll treat it as a civilian-modified explosive. Send an investigation team to go through the motions, and then suppress the matter entirely."

Everyone looked at each other and nodded in tacit agreement.

No one realized that their own black accounts had become Fu Haoran's most reliable safety net.

...

In the town of Yellowstone, people were in a state of panic.

The entire Victor clan had been wiped out, their century-old manor reduced to scorched earth, and the power that had occupied the area for two hundred years was completely eradicated.

However, the rednecks who depended on Victor were panicking.

They had been exploited their entire lives and were used to Victor's meanness and oppression. Now that Victor was gone, they actually felt very uneasy.

Most importantly, their jobs were gone!

Most importantly, their jobs were gone!

Of course, some people were happy, and the happiest of all was the Governor.

He had long coveted Victor's territory. Now that the entire family was dead and ownerless assets were everywhere, he could put them up for auction and rake in both political achievements and black money.

His only headache was the chaos in the town; if not handled well, it would affect his re-election.

While the Governor was fretting over the property documents, Fu Haoran's lawyer and investment consultant, Jimmy, pushed the door open and slammed a stack of documents onto the table.

"Mr. Governor, DYB Technology intends to acquire three assets: full land ownership of the Yellowstone Forest, exclusive water rights to Yellowstone Lake, and the West Coast Inland River Pier."

The Governor was stunned for a moment. "You don't want the farms and the manor? Those are the most valuable!"

Jimmy smiled. "Our boss has no interest in farming."

After flipping through the documents, the Governor almost laughed out loud.

He was most afraid of people fighting over the ranches, plantations, and town shops—the choice meat that could be quickly liquidated. Instead, Fu Haoran didn't touch them at all, specifically picking what the Governor saw as junk.

The forest was full of trees; while timber was somewhat valuable, fire prevention every year cost money, and labor costs were sky-high. It was all hard-earned money.

Yellowstone Lake was just an inland lake with no shipping value; in his eyes, it was just a pool of stagnant water.

The pier was in a remote location. While the channel was deep and the throughput potential was decent, the infrastructure was too poor. It would require a massive investment to make it viable, and who would be willing to sink that much money into it?

Jimmy also handed over a joint consent form from the farm owners, with all the farmers in town having signed their approval.

The Governor signed on the spot, being as straightforward as could be.

Someone was paying to take over a mess and even helping him pacify the displaced people; it was like a gift from heaven. He had no idea that he was selling off the lifeblood of Yellowstone.

The Governor had no clue that while the forest might not make big money, it could buy people's hearts, as more than half of Yellowstone's residents relied on the forest for their livelihood.

Water rights locked down both factory production and the ranches. With these two in hand, Yellowstone had completely become Fu Haoran's backyard, and no outsider could ever interfere again.

Just as the contract was signed, a group of men in black burst in.

The leader flashed a CIA ID. "This transaction involves the domestic attack incident. The assets must be temporarily frozen, and the transaction is suspended."

The Governor's face turned green. "The man is buying a broken pier; what kind of national security threat could that possibly pose?"

The CIA offered no explanation, only saying rudely to Jimmy, "Notify your boss that we will be over to investigate in a few days. Tell him to be prepared."

Upon hearing the news, Fu Haoran didn't say much, only telling his lawyer Jimmy to continue following up.

After hanging up, Fu Haoran muttered to himself over the blueprints: "If it weren't for Hive City waiting for timber to build housing and for the pier to transport supplies, who would want to haggle with these people in this godforsaken place?"

On the blueprints, one was a production line for civilian thermos flask casings, and the other was a production line for artillery shell casings of the same specifications.

Both lines shared the same set of stamping equipment; they only needed to swap a mold to switch seamlessly.

This was one of his little secrets that couldn't see the light of day. And he had quite a 'few' of these little secrets.

"Sigh, before my wings are fully grown, I should be as low-key as possible. I'll cooperate where I can; it'll all pass if I just endure it," Fu Haoran consoled himself.

...

Two days later, at the entrance of the Yellowstone Super Factory.

Tom walked at the front, wearing a brand-new FBI trench coat, followed by over a dozen expressionless "entourage members."

He knew he was just a front; these people were the real military representatives.

Fu Haoran came out to greet them personally, his attitude neither humble nor arrogant, with a perfectly measured politeness on his face:

"Feel free to inspect everything. The core battery production line involves trade secrets and can only be viewed from a distance, but all other areas are fully open."

The first stop was the battery production line.

On the assembly line, robotic arms moved at high speeds; the process from feeding materials to packaging the battery cells was entirely automated.

The military representatives showed little interest; no matter how good the batteries were, they couldn't help them fight wars.

The turning point came in the assembly workshop.

An engineer wearing a lightweight exoskeleton lifted a battery pack weighing over a hundred kilograms with one hand, as easily as holding a cup of water.

Mark feigned surprise and asked, "Wait! What is this?"

Fu Haoran introduced: "An Active Exoskeleton, used for workers to move heavy objects. It weighs 8 kilograms, has a rated load of 80 kilograms, a 72-hour battery life on a full charge, is waterproof and dustproof, and supports fast charging."

Mark circled the engineer three times before asking, "Is this for sale?"

Fu Haoran didn't really want to sell it, so he planned to quote an expensive price: "It's a bit pricey, about 90,000 dollars per set."

Mark looked up in disbelief, sizing up Fu Haoran with the look one gives a poor person, thinking to himself:

"Chinese people really haven't seen the world. He has the nerve to call 90,000 dollars expensive? That piece of junk from the R&D department that hasn't been finished in over a decade costs several hundred thousand dollars just for the materials."

Mark immediately started calculating in his head. If he reported this equipment to Congress and requested it for Delta Force and the Navy SEALs, would a quote of 900,000 dollars be too cheap?

"Mr. Fu, I'd like to purchase 100 sets first. I hope you can support us." Mark phrased it as a request, but his tone brooked no argument.

Just a hundred sets? That was a simple request.

Fu Haoran nodded. "Fine."

Just a hundred sets? That was a simple request.

Fu Haoran nodded. "Fine."

Near the end of the tour, Mark said nonchalantly, "Mr. Fu, have you heard? The Yellowstone National Guard colluded with Victor and the entire unit has been dismissed, leaving an opening for an infantry company. Are you interested in filling that vacancy?"

"I can?" Fu Haoran found it hard to believe.

"While nominally it can't be outsourced to private entities, you know how it is in reality. As long as there's money, nothing is impossible." Mark gave him a knowing look.

"Of course, the main reason is that the Guard suffered heavy casualties in the attack, and no one is willing to enlist. The state is very certain that you have enough local prestige, and your factory already has a security foundation. The higher-ups intend to let you take the lead in name and give you the rank of Captain."

"Of course, the military pay will be split fifty-fifty, and the weapon quota will be halved. You'll need to make up the rest yourself. If you're willing, you can think about it."

Mark thought the other party would refuse; after all, the conditions were too harsh. He was just testing the waters.

Fu Haoran finally realized that the prestige mentioned by the system actually had this kind of use.

Fu Haoran thought for a moment and nodded. "I can do that."

Mark was a bit stunned. Is there actually a fool willing to agree?

How could he know that Fu Haoran never cared about that bit of military pay?

"Folding the security team into the National Guard is equivalent to completely legalizing my private armed forces. In the future, even if someone comes to inspect the factory, they'll have to think twice."

"This small loss is practically a free protective talisman."

Fu Haoran felt this deal was incredibly worth it.

Before Mark left, he suddenly turned back. "By the way, regarding the transfer of those assets of yours, I've had the CIA clear them. Consider it a welcoming gift."

...

A week later, at Pentagon.

The investigation team's report was officially submitted, filled with nothing but praise, defining DYB Technology as a benchmark for the return of American manufacturing, the pride of local technological innovation, and a model civilian anti-terrorism enterprise.

It completely erased any negative associations with the attack. Sensitive details like bunker busters and beam weapons weren't mentioned at all.

All the officers involved in the investigation received procurement kickbacks and political benefits, tacitly whitewashing Fu Haoran into a law-abiding entrepreneur.

No one felt that this was a bad move.

It was just finding an OEM factory; they provide the money, and the other side provides the goods.

At most, he was like a dog they were keeping.

You say they'll grow strong and bite back at America?

Nonsense. We in America keep so many dogs; which one hasn't been beaten to death after biting its master?

A military contracting company would die in minutes if their orders were cut off.

Soon, Fu Haoran received the report. Looking at the US military cooperation agreement in his hand, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He just wanted to quietly build a logistics base and stockpile supplies for the Warhammer Hive City. How did he accidentally become a core supplier for the US military, the actual controller of Yellowstone, and even get his private armed forces legalized?

The absurd comedic effect of it all made him shake his head in spite of himself.

"Whatever happens, happens," Fu Haoran muttered, not taking it to heart at all.

But the system refused to leave him in peace; the piercing notification sound rang out again, clearly intent on stirring up more trouble.