Chapter 618: An Ungrateful Wretched Wolf

“Very good. Contact his local police system and cooperate to tailor-make a 'dirt feast' just for him.”
A ruthless glint flashed in Zhou Yi's eyes.
“Not only will he be utterly disgraced, but he'll never be seen in front of any media cameras again for the rest of his life!”
Even if he manages to appear and show his face, the relevant images will be erased from every server on Earth in a fraction of a second, as if they never existed.
“Then… Manager,” the subordinate spoke again,
“The topic we were discussing… about the 'mysterious organization'…”
Before he could finish, Zhou Yi's brows furrowed instantly, his gaze sharpening like a knife!
"Are you brainless or just plain stupid?"
"Huh?"
"We barely mentioned that 'mysterious organization' before Chairman Su's call came in like a death knell!
Don't you guys understand what that means?!"
Upon hearing this, everyone in the conference room shuddered violently, a chill running from their feet to their heads!
The temperature in the entire room seemed to drop by several degrees, and a terrifying thought exploded in their minds.
Could it be... that this top-secret meeting, from beginning to end, was under the watchful eye of... that "god"?!
Zhou Yi slowly raised a finger to his lips, making a "shush" gesture, his eyes filled with an unmistakable warning.
"From this day forward, no one is allowed to utter a single word about this topic again."
"...Yes!"
Everyone felt as if they had been granted a pardon, rising to their feet. The cold sweat on their backs, amplified by the air conditioning, seemed even more piercing than the Siberian snow!
***
The Empire, the Presidential Office.
"Sergei, are those oligarchs all settled?"
"..."
"Sergei?"
"Ah, yes, yes, Mr. President. Everything is arranged."
"You seem a little off today. What happened?"
"Nothing, Mr. President. I think I had an upset stomach at lunch." Sergei bowed his head respectfully.
"Our troops have been dispatched. Intelligence suggests they were plotting a meeting today; we'll take them all out."
Ever since North Goryeo's collapse, the President had been on edge.
He had witnessed firsthand how his ally had crumbled in an instant.
Thus, he was constantly gripped by the fear of betrayal and treachery.
He felt as if he were walking barefoot on a thin, transience-like ice surface, each step trembling with apprehension, lest he fall into a bottomless, icy abyss.
And indeed, he was.
Just when he feared most, intelligence arrived—
The oligarchs he had personally nurtured, those wolves he had raised, were plotting to devour him, to overthrow his rule!
"Is the source of this intelligence reliable?"
"Absolutely reliable. It's intelligence directly provided by Fang Huan's 'Mountain Fire' organization.
In fact, those oligarchs had previously sought help from 'Mountain Fire,' attempting to join forces with them to launch a rebellion."
These ungrateful wretches!
After discovering their encrypted assets had been precisely frozen, they finally resorted to desperate measures, baring their fangs and attempting to lure a wolf into their home!
But they never dreamed that "Wildfire," their lifeline, would betray them so easily after accepting their bribes!
"Interesting. I didn't expect that Fang Huan would actually take the initiative to befriend us." The president narrowed his eyes.
But then he thought, if Fang Huan truly wanted to befriend the Empire, why did he dismantle Gao Li in the first place?
"No... perhaps this is actually an opportunity?" he muttered to himself.
"Taking advantage of the chaos in the East, we can seize the opportunity to resolve our current economic predicament?"
In any case, this time, he owed Fang Huan a tremendous favor, allowing him to avert a fatal crisis.
"A bunch of fools." A cruel sneer curled at the president's lips.
Those guys still dreaming of victory probably think they have it all in the bag, smugly awaiting the arrival of their "reinforcements."
They'll soon receive a "grand gift" he personally prepared—a "surprise" that will condemn them to eternal damnation!
"Secretary-General, the red tea is here."
"Hmm, leave it there, I'll deliver it myself."
The president wields immense power, but truly trusted confidants are few and far between.
Sergei is one of them, practically his right-hand man.
For all this time, Sergei has repaid this trust with near-perfect loyalty.
For this president he swore his life for, he was even prepared to give his life at any moment, truly the president's most loyal hound.
Until... yesterday.
That photograph, transmitted through encrypted channels, was like a poisoned ice pick, instantly piercing through the fortress he had built with loyalty.
In the photo, his son and daughter, studying in Switzerland, were being held down by several ruthless thugs, their faces etched with terror and despair.
The kidnappers sent only one name with the photo.
A name that plunged him into an icy abyss.
It was the very president sitting opposite him, diligently working for the nation!
What a vicious conspiracy!
Using the person he respected most to exchange for his most cherished family!
“…”
Sergei's hand, unnoticed by anyone, unconsciously traced the small glass bottle hidden in his inner breast pocket.
A single drop.
Just a single drop, enough to end an era, to end everything.
But hesitation was merely a fleeting ripple.
Loyalty versus family—this age-old, unsolvable dilemma found its answer in this moment.
Because, within every father in the world, the tender heart is the same.
***
“The abrupt collapse of the empire’s predecessor is the deepest scar in the history of human civilization.”
The empire’s president, sitting at the pinnacle of power, often uttered this phrase, as if it were some kind of incantation etched into his soul.
His eyes often held a hint of nostalgia, as if he were not a warlord of this era, but rather the ghost of a bygone empire.
“Of course,” he added, a touch of perfectly timed self-deprecation in his voice.
"Ironically, if it weren't for that epic collapse, I wouldn't be where I am today."
The wheels of history crushed an empire, but that global avalanche lifted him from the dust, making him the biggest beneficiary.
"But don't misunderstand, I've never coveted this position."
He would say this with a resigned tone, as if fate had forcibly placed him on the throne,
"I sit here purely to answer the call of destiny, to rebuild the glory of the past!
This is the mission bestowed upon me by heaven, an inviolable mandate!"
He always proclaimed this, whitewashing his bloody rise and brutal suppression into a magnificent epic.
It was as if every step he took in slaughtering dissidents and building an iron-fisted empire was a manifestation of the will of heaven.
But to call the loss of countless lives and the bloody cleansing "divine will"?
If this truly is divine will, then this heaven's taste is far too extreme.