Chapter 115: Lunchtime Arrives
Afternoon, over the vast, boundless sea.
Su Qingzhu stood on the speeding speedboat, the sea breeze tousling her hair, but she had no thought to fix it. Her usually breathtakingly beautiful face was now twisted with anxiety.
“Master, is there really no other way?” she asked urgently, clutching the satellite phone tightly. “Should we ask the higher-ups to deploy more, and more advanced, equipment for detection? At this rate, it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack!”
She knew she had long since left Jiangcheng’s jurisdiction. She also knew that Chen Yu, that bastard, was trapped in that perverse death game. The damned cruise ship had already reached its destination. And she, like a headless fly, had been chasing across this endless sea for who knew how long.
On the other end of the line came a solemn, weary voice. “Requests have been made; the higher-ups are coordinating. They will send three more patrol boats and four helicopters. But... it’s useless.”
“The signals in this sea area are being forcibly jammed. Our high-tech instruments have their detection range compressed to the extreme, and their accuracy greatly diminished. Now, the only hope is manpower.”
“How... how is he now?” Su Qingzhu bit her lip hard. She couldn’t see the live feed here and could only learn of that bastard’s fate through Yan Zheng, her sole channel.
There was a pause on the other end.
“For now, he’s safe.”
...
On a lonely island, in a prison cage.
Chen Yu curled up on a hard iron bunk bed. His eyes were closed, breathing steady, looking utterly exhausted, as if deep in sleep.
A soft, warm touch came from behind. Li Qing held him tightly. Her body trembled slightly; she was terrified—ten thousand times more than Chen Yu showed.
No matter how many storms she had faced before, who had ever witnessed such a scene? This wasn’t a drill, nor a movie. This was a hell built with human lives.
At this moment, all she could do was lean her entire weight on this man. She hoped that this man, who always worked miracles, could once again bring hope—to everyone, and to herself.
Chen Yu did not move. He could clearly feel the breathtaking softness of Li Qing’s chest pressed tightly against his back, her heart racing with fear, and her complete, unreserved reliance.
The atmosphere in the warehouse was heavy as lead. The earlier terror, wails, and curses had all ceased.
The 107 survivors each found an iron bunk bed to sit or lie on.
All eyes glazed over, staring blankly at the massive screens above.
They stared at the transparent box piled high with pink bills.
Nineteen billion three hundred million.
That money mountain, glowing eerily and deadly under the pale lights, radiated a seductive, unnatural allure.
At that moment—
“Boom—rumble—!”
The huge metal door that cut off all hope slowly rose.
Blinding sunlight poured in, causing everyone to squint instinctively.
Behind it came a massive aluminum dining table.
Its caster wheels scraped across the concrete floor with a “shhh—clack—” sound.
The table was laden with all kinds of delicious dishes.
Golden, crispy roasted whole lamb; sizzling top-grade Wagyu beef; translucent caviar; and various exotic Chinese dishes and Western desserts.
A dazzling array, fragrant and mouthwatering.
Shen Feng, dressed in his flamboyant black tailcoat, strode in gracefully, smiling.
“Lunch has arrived, everyone!”
His voice was light and teasing.
“Starving, aren’t you?”
Hearing the delicious aromas, a few swallowed their saliva among the crowd.
Indeed.
It was probably past two in the afternoon now.
They had been kidnapped since morning, without a drop of water, enduring hellish scenes, physically and mentally drained to the limit.
Their stomachs were long empty, hunger pressing their fronts against their backs.
But...
Everything they had just experienced left most of them utterly without appetite.
Moments passed.
No one stepped forward.
No one reached for the food.
The reason was simple.
Not just lack of appetite.
More so, everyone harbored the same question in their hearts:
Had that pervert poisoned these dishes or not?
Seeing no movement, Shen Feng’s smile faded slightly, as if seeing through their thoughts.
He walked elegantly to the table, picked up a clean knife and fork.
“Shhh—”
The blade sliced through the steak, cutting off a piece neither too large nor too small, cooked perfectly.
Then, under everyone’s watchful eyes, he stuffed the piece into his mouth.
He chewed slowly, the corner of his mouth curling into a satisfied smile.
“Mm! Delicious!” he exclaimed exaggeratedly.
“No wonder it’s the work of a Michelin chef. The doneness of this steak is truly exceptional!”
His gaze slowly swept over the faces filled with vigilance and suspicion.
“Don’t worry.”
“You’re the toys I carefully selected to entertain me.”
“How could I bear to use such a crude method as poisoning to kill you?”
He paused, his tone filled with seductive persuasion.
“Don’t forget, each of you is worth a hundred million now!”
“I wouldn’t want you to die so easily!”
“So...”
He spread his hands, making a gesture of invitation.
“Who wants to try the delicacies on this table?”
The answer was silence.
The cruel slaughter and inhumane rules had bred absolute distrust toward him in everyone.
[Heh, keep performing, Shen Feng,] Chen Yu sneered inwardly.
Shen Feng’s smile finally vanished completely.
His voice grew cold and displeased.
“Since no one is willing to move forward voluntarily...”
“I’ll just have to make a small request.”
“After all, if I let you starve until you’re weak, how will you properly entertain me?”
No sooner had he finished speaking—
“Click! Click! Click!”
The dozen or so burly men behind him raised their pink rifles in unison!
The black barrels aimed at the trembling survivors in the warehouse’s center.
An icy killing intent instantly engulfed the space.
Shen Feng’s voice thundered again in everyone’s ears.
“Now!”
“Each and every one of you must! Immediately! Step forward! Take one piece of food from the table!”
“Otherwise, bear the consequences!”