socalfunplaces Page 31
Page 31
"Pfft!"
Hawke laughed without even turning around, while Gu Ziyun beside him simply waved her hand lightly, as if shooing away flies.
But Schleider's words came to an abrupt end.
An invisible, overwhelming, and terrifying force suddenly descended!
He felt as if he were being gripped tightly by an invisible giant hand, his feet lifted off the ground, and he was violently thrown against the solid bulletproof glass wall!
"boom!"
With a dull thud, Schreid's burly body slammed into the cold glass, the immense impact causing the entire pane to vibrate and rattle.
He felt his entire body groaning, his internal organs shifting, a sweet taste rising in his throat, and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
He tried to struggle, but found himself like an insect nailed to a specimen box, his limbs and bones pinned to the wall by an invisible force, unable to move even a finger!
Gu Ziyun stood still, a hint of amusement in her eyes, her raised hand loosely clenched.
The powerful telekinetic energy acted like shackles, firmly imprisoning Shredder.
Hawke finally turned around and slowly walked over to Schreid, who was "nailed" to the wall.
He looked at Shredder's face, contorted with pain and anger, as if admiring an interesting exhibit.
"You still don't know?" Hawke chuckled, his tone suddenly turning cold, like the Siberian wind. "I think you haven't grasped the situation yet. Ziyun, help Mr. Schreid wake up."
Gu Ziyun's fingers twitched slightly.
"Ughh ...
A bloodcurdling scream, so shrill it was almost inhuman, suddenly burst from Schleider's throat!
Severe pain!
Indescribable pain!
It felt as if countless red-hot steel needles were piercing his nerve endings at the same time, or as if an invisible giant hammer was repeatedly pounding and grinding his bones!
This is not a physical blow, but a form of torture that uses psychokinesis to directly affect the nerve and sensory level!
It penetrates to the bone marrow and reaches the soul!
Schreid's body convulsed violently, his eyes bulged out and were bloodshot, and the veins on his forehead bulged like earthworms.
Sweat, blood, and saliva flowed uncontrollably down his face.
The conference room was very soundproof, but the executives outside, who were in the midst of a tense handover, could still faintly hear the chilling screams and thuds muffled by the walls.
Emilia's hand, which was signing the document, suddenly trembled, and the pen tip drew a long trail of ink on the paper.
Everyone felt a chill run from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads. The air pressure in the office was so low it was suffocating. Everyone kept their heads down, pretending to be engrossed in their documents, and no one dared to make a sound.
The terrifying, intermittent sounds, like the death knell of hell, tolled for a full half hour.
Finally, when Gu Ziyun loosened her grip, Schreid slid off the wall like a rag doll and collapsed onto the carpet, his body still convulsing uncontrollably, his eyes unfocused, only physical fear and utter collapse remaining.
He was breathing heavily, like a broken bellows, with tears streaming down his face.
“In…in…” Schreid’s voice was weak and hoarse, filled with endless fear, “Staten Island…the abandoned…South Dock…underground…warehouse…”
Hawke crouched down and looked at him: "Very good. Wouldn't it have been better if you had done this earlier?"
He stood up, dusted off non-existent dust, and said to Gu Ziyun, "Take care of it, pack it up and give it to those turtle-man friends you saw last time. Also, tell them the address of the Big Foot Gang headquarters, and tie an orange ribbon on it as a gift."
Gu Ziyun nodded, and as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Schreid's body convulsed violently, and he completely lost consciousness.
0 ······Requesting flowers···· ········
Soon, Schreid, who was unconscious like a dead pig, was dragged out by the people from Lane Capital like a sack of potatoes.
Along with it, a sealed folder marked "Confidential" was also sent, containing detailed information about the Foot Clan headquarters address that Hawke already knew, as well as some brief details.
A garish orange gift ribbon had been tied to the outside of the folder in a way that seemed to have a wicked sense of humor.
Hawke walked back to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the bustling traffic.
Gu Ziyun stood quietly behind him.
Hawke scratched his head, recalling Staten Island, an obscure little island, which seemed to be located in New York Harbor, south of Manhattan, between New Jersey and Brooklyn.
.... ...... 0
I think I've been there once.
He scratched his head, took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, finally finding a name.
The name Staten Island is like a thin thread, pulling out a distant yet passionate memory.
“Christina Aguilera…” he murmured the name, his mind instantly flashing through images of glittering nightclubs, deafening music, a highly recognizable sexy face, and the raw, alluring allure of a hot night.
It was a night fueled by hormones and alcohol, sparks flew, and they hit it off immediately.
He even remembered the next day, when she snuggled up to him lazily, with a hint of smugness and an irresistible invitation, saying that her hometown was on Staten Island, “it’s quiet there, no one to bother you…” So the two of them drove there again, and their passion reignited in the unfamiliar environment.
later?
She also asked him to help promote several of her new songs, and Hawke did indeed use some resources and family influence, resulting in very impressive chart performances, which remains a source of pride for her to this day.
A typical, brief, mutually beneficial fleeting affair.
“Ha,” Hawke chuckled, tapping his fingertip on the name.
"Since we're going to visit that godforsaken island anyway, it wouldn't be bad to find a host to make some arrangements. It'll be nice to reminisce about the countryside."
The call was connected very quickly.
57. Extremist Virus [Please Subscribe]
“Well, well, well…” A surprised, highly recognizable, sexy voice came through the receiver, with faint sounds of instruments being tuned in the background. “Look who this is? Hawk? Hawk Lane? The new king of Wall Street? Or should I call you… my sweetheart?”
Christina Aguilera's voice instantly switched to a seductive channel, with a hint of provocative laughter.
"I thought you'd long forgotten about this 'island singer' all over the Pacific Ocean, Hawke."
Hawke leaned against the cold, bulletproof glass wall. "Forget you? Christina, that's like forgetting a perfect hurricane." He said, feigning incredulity, "That night... and the next day... were unforgettable."
He even paused for a moment to let the other person recall those popular films, "490".
A sexy, pleasant chuckle came from the other end of the phone: "Oh, darling, if you put it that way, I'll take it seriously. Tell me, what wind woke my young master Ryan up? Want to savor the taste of the 'perfect hurricane' again?"
Her tone was bold and direct.
“Perhaps,” Hawke said noncommittally. “Speaking of which, my company has some business that requires me to go to the island. It suddenly occurred to me that it seems to be the hometown of some superstar? So I’ve developed a bit of an interest in that place that’s not for business.”
“Staten Island?!” Christina Aguilera’s voice rose several decibels instantly, filled with surprise and obvious enthusiasm. “My God! You’re coming to my territory? Oh honey, this is simply… fantastic! You must come see me!”
Her enthusiasm almost overflowed from the receiver.
“Listen, Hawke, you have to stay at my place! My place is big and comfortable, a hundred times better than those cold, impersonal hotel suites in New York City! Pool, private cinema, outdoor BBQ… and,” she lowered her voice, hinting, “an absolutely undisturbed ‘memory space.’ How about it? Give your old friend a chance to be a good host, okay?”
Hawke could almost picture her with a sly smile and her chin slightly raised.
He readily agreed, his tone as casual as if he were accepting a weekend picnic: "Sounds good. It's hard to refuse. Then I'll trouble you, Christina."
"Perfect!" Christina Aguilera's voice leaped with joy. "Do you remember the address? Hmm... no problem, I'll send it to you again! I need to get ready... I have a surprise for you!"
Her voice was filled with an excited sense of planning, as if Hawke's visit was the most important event about to happen on the island.
“The address… is a bit blurry,” Hawke chuckled. “Send it to me. As for the time, it’ll be in the next couple of days. I’ll contact you when I arrive. A surprise? I’m looking forward to it.”
“I guarantee you’ll be surprised!” Christina Aguilera promised with a smile. “It’s a deal then! See you on Staten Island, my ‘Eye of the Storm’ gentleman! I’ll be waiting for you~ Mua!” A kiss came through the airwaves before she reluctantly hung up the phone.
Hawke put away his phone and glanced at Gu Ziyun, who was curiously poking at the almost invisible tiny cracks in the bulletproof glass with her finger.
"You heard everything?" he chuckled. "Looks like we'll have to go to Staten Island for a vacation and take care of some business while we're at it."
"Vacation? Great!" Gu Ziyun's eyes lit up, clearly more interested in the word "vacation." "And aliens!?"
I just encountered some outrageous turtle people a few days ago, and now I'm about to come into contact with aliens?
Sure enough, I should have left that awful place Busan a long time ago. The outside world is so wonderful!
"Hopefully it won't be too boring." Hawke's eyes narrowed slightly, sharp as knives. "Go pack your things, we're leaving tomorrow."
On the other side, Emilia, exhausted from the handover, walked in and interrupted, "Dear BOSS, the reporters are all here on the first floor. The press conference is waiting for you."
This was a press conference about the acquisition of TCRI, just a routine event; otherwise, how would they announce their strength to the industry?
Just as Hawke was about to leave, Emilia suddenly called him back. She hesitated for a moment, then said, "During the handover, we discovered two problems..."
After speaking, she handed the stack of materials in her hand to Hawke...
The conference room door closed again, shutting out the noise from the outside world.
Emilia looked at the traces of blood left on the ground, took a deep breath, and tried to suppress the physical discomfort brought on by the horrific scene just now, forcing herself to enter a professional state.
She walked quickly to Hawke, her face showing a mixture of seriousness and disbelief.
“Boss, during the handover process, we discovered two somewhat tricky issues.” Emilia lowered her voice. “The first concerns a company called Pioneer Technology.”
She handed the thick stack of documents to Hawke.
At the top are scanned copies of several highly encrypted technical cooperation agreements, signed by TCRI and Advanced Idea Mechanics.
Hawke's gaze swept quickly across the area, his eyes narrowing slightly. Advanced Idea Mechanics, short for AIM.
The document is obscure and profound, filled with terms such as gene editing, neural links, and extreme environment tolerance tests, but the accompanying report images are shocking: inhuman restraint equipment, photos of experimental subjects with abnormal tissue proliferation, and failure reports marked "pushing physiological limits".
“AIM, ostensibly a leading biotechnology and artificial intelligence research company,” Emilia pointed to document 4.8, “but our internal audit team discovered that they are using TCRI’s cutting-edge neural interface technology and gene stabilizers to conduct illegal, highly lethal human enhancement experiments. The goal is to create some kind of ‘super soldier.’ TCRI is not only their most important technical support and key raw material supplier, but some senior executives are also deeply involved in the formulation of experimental directions and data sharing. This project is codenamed ‘Extreme’, and its progress appears extremely unstable, fraught with violence and uncontrollability.”
Hawke's gaze lingered on a blurry photograph at the end of the report, showing a figure in a white coat with an almost fanatical ambition burning in his eyes—Dr. Aldridge Killian.
AIM…Kirian…Human Enhancement…Extremis Virus…
He understood.
58 Hands Club? Call the police! [Please subscribe]
The painful, contorted postures of the experimental subjects in the background of the photo represent the early, unstable, and highly explosive prototype of the Extremis virus.
Judging from the level of chaos, Killian hasn't found a perfect, stable formula yet.
“The second problem is more troublesome,” Emilia said, turning to the next document, her disgust more pronounced. “TCRI is secretly colluding with a gang called the ‘Hand,’ a criminal organization that controls certain neighborhoods in the area.”