Mike Bor – participated in the Second Gulf War, retired two years ago. Joined Academi under the codename "Chimpanzee."
Smith Jack – former Delta Force operative, joined Academi three years ago, codename "White Mouse."
Chen Mo stared at the profiles on his screen, eyes cold.
Mercenaries. Real ones.
"Academi."
To most people, the name meant nothing. But its old name rang like a siren—Blackwater. The notorious private military company, buried under scandals, rebranded as Academi in a bid to escape its past.
Born from the heart of the American military-industrial complex, Academi was one of the world's most powerful—and feared—mercenary groups. They answered to money, not flags. No allegiance, no ideology. Only contracts.
And now, they were coming after him.
Chen Mo's expression grew darker. These weren't random thugs. Mercenaries rarely operated in Huaxia. The country had always been considered a forbidden zone for such players.
For them to sneak in and go after him meant one thing: someone really wanted him dead.
"Ink Girl," Chen Mo said. "Trace who hired them."
"On it."
The AI went silent. Chen Mo waited, eyes locked on the screen. Seconds ticked by like hours.
Finally, her voice returned.
"Mo-ge… their employment isn't listed in the Academi database. No official record."
Chen Mo's brows furrowed. "Private contract?"
If someone inside Academi arranged the hit off-book, it would bypass official logs. That meant higher pay and less oversight—a merc's dream job.
"It's possible," Ink Girl confirmed. "But I did find something. An email in a private inbox. From someone named Taylor to Bor."
"Show me. And get me everything on Taylor and whoever he works for."
"On it~!"
A few moments later, two profiles and the email content appeared on his screen. Chen Mo scanned them quickly, then paused.
Sender: Taylor
Employer: Luo Shugel.
Chen Mo's eyes narrowed. He didn't recognize the name Taylor—but his boss? Luo Shugel?
"Check everything on Shugel. Especially criminal records and enemies."
A man working for someone doesn't act without reason. Chen Mo was confident the trail would lead to whoever ordered the hit.
Moments later, Ink Girl's voice chimed back.
"Luo Shugel. Age 67. Former CEO of Northrop Grumman. Currently one of Apple's eight board directors."
Chen Mo's fingers stilled on the mouse.
Apple.
So that was it. The thread that tied it all together.
This had to be connected to Cook's incident with him. The timing was too perfect. Cook had just returned to the U.S. after butting heads with him—then suddenly, mercenaries showed up at his door.
Shugel, a board member, likely took offense or saw Chen Mo's tech as a threat. Either way, it wasn't coincidence.
And if that old man wanted him dead, Chen Mo had no choice but to hit back.
He couldn't physically touch someone of Shugel's stature, not from across the ocean.
But he could do something better.
Use a knife without blooding his own hands.
"Get me everything dirty on Shugel," Chen Mo said coldly. "Crimes, enemies, scandals—the works."
"There's a lot," Ink Girl replied softly. "Sending now."
A compressed file popped onto the desktop. Chen Mo opened it—and froze.
It was worse than he thought.
Private dealings with mercenaries.
Illegal arms transactions.
Video and audio of murder conspiracies.
Government bribes, collusion with other corporations.
Names. Dates. Faces. Even U.S. officials.
A goldmine of evidence—enough to take down more than just Shugel.
Chen Mo exhaled slowly.
This wasn't just retaliation. This was a death sentence.
"Send everything to the people involved. Anonymous. Proxy IPs. Follow the usual protocol."
"Done~" Ink Girl replied. "Files sent."
"Also," Chen Mo added, "monitor Berg, Taylor, and Shugel. If any of them make another move on me, I want to know instantly."
"Copy that."
With the matter handled for now, Chen Mo finally left the office and went back to the lab, quietly resuming work on his robot project. His mind stayed focused—not on fear, but on preparation.
That night, he visited Xiao Yu in the hospital and brought her home to rest. Her health came first.
Meanwhile, across the ocean—Carolina, USA.
Inside a sprawling luxury estate, a man with blonde hair, a buzz cut, and a hooked nose sat stiffly in his study, eyes locked on a glowing monitor.
Erik Prince.
Founder of Blackwater.
Current head of Academi.
Former Navy SEAL.
His reputation was infamous—and at this moment, his expression was ugly.
He had opened his inbox that morning expecting routine emails. Instead, he found an anonymous message—loaded with damning evidence.
All of it pointed at Luo Shugel.
Illegal weapon trades. Private assassinations. Even footage from inside Academi.
But what made Prince's blood run cold—was that some of the files implicated him.
He recognized deals that had long since been buried. Witnesses paid off. Loose ends tied.
Yet here it all was—neatly organized and emailed to him.
Someone had used him. Used his hatred, his company, his resources—to settle their grudge.
And now, he was involved in something far bigger than he bargained for.
"Damn it…" Prince muttered, hand tightening on the mouse. After a long breath, he reached for the phone.
It rang twice.
"Luo," he growled, "we need to talk."
On the other end, Shugel's voice was hollow. "No need. I just got off the phone with Randy. The Feds are on their way."
Prince's face turned grim. "He knows too?"
"Of course he does. Everyone will soon. The evidence is everywhere."
"What are you planning to do?"
"What can I do?" Shugel sounded older—defeated. "They're coming. It's over."
"Luo," Prince said slowly, voice chilling, "you have a family. Think very carefully about what you do next."
There was silence.
Then, softly: "I understand. Just… let them go."
Prince hung up without another word.
Back in his study, Shugel stared at the pistol on his desk. His fingers trembled.
Outside, morning sun washed over the quiet manor.
Then—
Bang!
A single gunshot shattered the silence.
The day had only just begun.