The early morning sun bled gold over the skyline as Lin Feng stood in front of the expansive glass windows of his temporary HQ on the 32nd floor of a recently leased commercial tower in Lujiazui. He sipped a freshly brewed black coffee—no milk, no sugar—as he reviewed the last of the digital files on the sleek tablet in his hand.
"Zhang Yating's inner circle is compromised. Zhao Ling's legal team received pressure from an external law firm connected to Spectron's dummy affiliate. And the investment project in the Nanjing corridor—sabotaged via manipulated zoning documents. Subtle, but clear."
He didn't look at Chen Yiran, but she understood his tone well enough. She had been up all night compiling the threads. Behind them, holographic projections flickered, each representing nodes in Zixuan's network—shadow investors, political liaisons, false shell firms, and social media influencers posing as neutral voices.
"All within the last 72 hours," she said, voice tight.
