Wood shards exploded. Smoke and dust billowed.
Half a door panel whistled past the front-row reporters’ scalps and slammed heavily onto the chairman’s steps, shaking the podium in front of Qin Mu so hard that the official seal rolled across the floor with a clatter.
Every camera swivelled in unison.
As the dust settled, two figures emerged against the backlight.
The woman on the left wore sharp men’s attire, her high ponytail sleek as a blade—the very same Qin Hongyi rumored to have lost her mind.
On her arm was a woman in a dark purple high-slit gown.
She was barefoot, stepping across the scattered wood chips as if walking on flat ground.
Her long, straight legs flashed through the gown’s slits. Despite possessing a devastatingly beautiful face, the oppressive aura she radiated was ten times more terrifying than Qin Hongyi’s.
It wasn’t the pressure of beauty.
It was the natural bloodline suppression of an apex predator toward lesser creatures.
“Qin the Second,” Gu Chen’s voice rang out, rich and magnetic, echoing through the deathly silent hall. “Putting on a tragic drama so early in the morning—did you at least pay the appearance fee?”
Qin Mu was stunned.
They weren’t dead?!
Neither the Black Kui assassination nor the West Mountain trap had finished off this pair of dogs?
“Security! Security!” Qin Mu reacted lightning-fast, pointing at the two of them and screaming hysterically. “These are the terrorists who kidnapped Hongyi! Take them down! Dead or alive!”
Clatter!
Dozens of black knights who had been lying in wait around the room instantly shed their disguises, drew extendable batons and stun batons, and charged.
Reporters screamed and scattered, covering their heads.
“Protect President Qin!” A trusted bodyguard led the charge, his high-voltage baton crackling as he thrust it straight at Gu Chen’s face.
Gu Chen didn’t even lift his eyelids.
He released Qin Hongyi’s arm, didn’t strike a pose, and simply took one casual step forward.
That single step shrank the ground to an inch.
The bodyguard only saw a purple shadow flicker before the stun baton in his hand changed owners.
Crack!
Gu Chen swung it backhand. The motion was so fast it left only an afterimage.
The steel baton smashed into the bodyguard’s jaw.
The sound of bone cracking rang out.
The two-hundred-pound brute flew sideways like he had been hit by a dump truck, smashing through tables and chairs for five or six meters before hitting the ground. He didn’t even groan—out cold.
The entire venue erupted.
What kind of monstrous superwoman was this?
“Too slow.” Gu Chen tossed aside the U-bent stun baton and shook his hand in distaste. “These are the elite the Qin family spent big money to raise? They’re worse than the old men in the park.”
“Get them! All of you! She’s a monster!” Qin Mu’s voice cracked from shouting.
The remaining dozens of bodyguards exchanged glances, gritted their teeth, and closed in.
“Hongyi, hold this for me.”
Gu Chen casually tossed his phone to Qin Hongyi.
“Since Second Qin is so enthusiastic, I’ll do the Qin family a favor and clean house.”
The next second, a purple storm swept across the hall.
No flashy moves—just lethal ones.
Straight punches, side kicks, elbow strikes.
The most basic combat techniques, backed by absolute power and speed, turned into a sickle mowing down weeds.
The elite bodyguards who could usually take on ten opponents apiece moved like extras in slow motion in front of Gu Chen.
They couldn’t even see how he struck before vital points were hit. One after another they flew out like sandbags.
One minute.
Just one minute.
The dozens of men who had charged in so aggressively were now all sprawled on the ground, wailing, limbs broken, a miserable sight.
Gu Chen stood at the center of the field. His long gown didn’t even have a single wrinkle, and he wasn’t even breathing hard.
He even had the leisure to bend down, pick up the official seal that had fallen earlier, and gently blow the dust off it.
He walked up the chairman’s platform step by step.
Qin Mu was slumped in his chair, legs shaking like sieves, staring at the approaching Gu Chen.
“You… don’t come any closer…” Qin Mu stammered, scooting backward.
Gu Chen smiled.
That smile could topple nations and sent Qin Mu plunging into an ice cave.
He stopped in front of Qin Mu, planted one hand on the table, and looked down at the old fox.
“Qin the Second, you were saying Hongyi had lost her mind?”
Gu Chen picked up the microphone and thoughtfully straightened Qin Mu’s crooked tie.
“Go on. Say it again for the cameras. Or we could talk about how your secret offshore account siphoned three billion in group liquidity in just one month?”
Qin Mu’s face turned deathly white. “You… how did you—”
“I know more than that.” Gu Chen took out his own phone and tapped the screen-share button.
The massive LED screen behind them switched.
No more PPT. Instead, a string of detailed transaction records, audio files, and even encrypted emails of Qin Mu’s deals with the foreign Black Kui Mercenary Group.
The reporters went wild.
The sound of camera shutters was as dense as machine-gun fire.
“These are the assets left behind by Young Master Gu—Su Rou’s late fiancé.”
“Qin the Second, embezzlement, hiring assassins, corporate espionage. These charges combined are enough to keep you stepping on a sewing machine until it spits sparks.”
Qin Mu completely collapsed.
He had lost not only in force but in every last piece of leverage.
“I refuse! I am a meritorious servant of the Qin family! Hongyi! Hongyi, I’m your second uncle!” Qin Mu desperately tried to beg the coldly watching Qin Hongyi for help.
Qin Hongyi walked up to the stage step by step.
She didn’t spare Qin Mu a single glance. She went straight to Gu Chen’s side, took the microphone from his hand, and spoke two words.
“Take him away.”
It was a death sentence.
Qin Hongyi’s trusted aides, who had been waiting outside, swarmed in and dragged the ashen-faced Qin Mu away.
The press conference descended into chaos.
Qin Hongyi stood under the spotlights and turned to look at Gu Chen beside her.
Their gazes met.
There was no relief of surviving a disaster—only the tacit understanding of shared ambition.
Gu Chen leaned close to Qin Hongyi’s ear. To outsiders it looked like an extremely intimate whisper, but in reality—
“I finished smashing up the venue. How are we settling this appearance fee? Without ten billion, this isn’t over.”
The smile at the corner of Qin Hongyi’s lips finally broke free. She reached out to tidy the stray hair at Gu Chen’s temple, her tone both doting and dangerous.
“The entire Qin Group is mine, and I am yours. Young Master Gu, is that price enough?”
Gu Chen raised an eyebrow.
Oh? This woman learned how to steal my lines?
…
Qin Group headquarters, top floor, CEO’s office.
Clouds churned beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Gu Chen toyed with the official seal that symbolized the highest authority in the Qin Group and casually tossed it onto the rosewood desk.
The seal rolled a few times and stopped beside Qin Hongyi’s hand.
“Job’s done.”
Gu Chen sank into the leather sofa, long legs sprawled shamelessly across the coffee table. The hem of his gown slipped, revealing large swathes of cold white skin that dazzled the eye.
He propped his head on one hand, every inch of him still radiating that unrestrained rogue energy.
“President Qin, time to settle up. Five percent of the shares plus ten billion in cash. Short me a single cent and I’ll report you to the labor bureau for maliciously withholding hard-earned wages.”
Qin Hongyi sat in the executive chair, holding a freshly brewed cup of Da Hong Pao.
Steam blurred her face.
“What’s the rush?” Qin Hongyi blew on the foam, her tone calm. “I just regained control of the company. The financial audit will take a few days.”
“That’s your problem. Don’t try to stall me with procedures.”
Gu Chen stood up, yanked the hair tie from his head, and let his long hair cascade down.
At this moment, those pure black pupils that had been restored were filled with nothing but wildness and arrogance.
Before, he had to endure because the genes inside his body could run rampant at any time and he needed Qin Hongyi’s blood to survive.
But now it was different.
After downing that golden agent, not only had his genetic defects been repaired, he felt as if he had inexhaustible power inside him.
The constant hunger to devour flesh and blood had vanished completely.
He was free—at least half free.
“Since President Qin is short on cash, I’ll let it slide for now.”
Gu Chen walked to the door and waved behind him without turning around. “But I’m not staying in this place anymore. I have hands and feet. It’s time I lived a few days without anyone minding my business.”
“You’re leaving?”
Behind him came the crisp sound of a porcelain cup being set on the desk.
“Is that not allowed?” Gu Chen gripped the door handle and sneered over his shoulder. “Qin Hongyi, don’t think that sleeping together a few times makes me your private property. I’m Gu Chen, not Gu Qingcheng, and definitely not your dog.”
“The door isn’t locked.” Qin Hongyi’s voice was eerily calm. “Leave whenever you want.”
Gu Chen’s brow twitched slightly.
This woman had agreed far too readily—suspiciously so.
But he didn’t hesitate.
His five senses were now ten times sharper than an ordinary person’s. Within a hundred meters he could hear a mosquito doing the splits.
No ambush. No traps. Even the bodyguards were downstairs.
“See you around.”
Gu Chen pressed the handle and pushed.
The instant the door cracked open—
Boom!
The once-quiet corridor suddenly erupted with a roar like a Boeing 747 taking off.