49. Memory Fragments

When Wang Datong said this, Ye Feng couldn’t help but get angry. He thought to himself, Didn’t I give you a chance before I left? Who told you to look down on me? Why should I call you? If you don’t support me, why should I let you take credit and get promoted?

So, he dropped the pretense and spoke coldly, “Director Wang, have you ever treated me as one of your own? I remember yesterday when I called you, you said you couldn’t handle this matter, didn’t you?”

Stung by Ye Feng’s icy words, Wang Datong, who was already full of resentment, found it impossible to accept. He shouted into the phone, “Ye Feng, don’t mistake my kindness for weakness! Think about it—if it hadn’t been for me back then, you’d still be rotting in that little cell!”

“Hmph, let’s not mince words. If Luo Ming hadn’t come to you, would you have helped me? Don’t talk about favors—you’re nothing but a lapdog to the Luo family!” Now that all pretense was gone between them, Ye Feng spoke without restraint. “Director Wang, you know better than anyone why you’ve reached your current position, don’t you?”

“You… You bastard, born of people but raised by none!” In his panic, Wang Datong struck Ye Feng right where it hurt.

“Very well. Just you wait!” Ye Feng replied coldly, then hung up.

“Connect me to Xu Wen,” he ordered Huaihuai with a harsh tone.

The call was quickly put through. Ye Feng got straight to the point, “Xu Wen, does Wang Datong have any connection to the Shark Gang?”

“I actually have an account book left behind by Han Xin,” Xu Wen replied. “It does have Wang Datong’s name in it. I’d hesitated to turn it in since I thought you two got along.”

“That bastard is useless now. Hand the account book over immediately.”

“Understood. I’ll deliver it to the central authorities right away,” Xu Wen agreed and hung up.

Central authorities? Ye Feng chuckled softly at that. No wonder Wang Datong was so nervous and agitated—someone from the center had arrived. Hmph! Let’s see you call me a bastard again, Wang Datong.

By midday, Ye Feng saw the news on television: Wang Datong and a group of municipal police officials had been brought down. On screen, Wang Datong’s head hung low in utter dejection. Clearly, he’d never imagined that a single curse would cost him his freedom. Had he known, he surely wouldn’t have made that resentful phone call to Ye Feng in a moment of emotional turmoil. But in this world, there are no what-ifs—now, he was nothing but a prisoner.

Ye Feng, however, had no time to pay attention to Wang Datong’s downfall. He had settled matters within the police force; now his sights were set on Ye Tianhua in the business world. Half a month had passed—he wondered how things were progressing on that front.

He quickly made a call and learned that the underground chamber had been fully renovated. After a brief exchange, Ye Feng decided to visit his warehouse that afternoon.

...

Standing in the manor, Ye Feng felt a rush of satisfaction. For many years, ever since his parents’ deaths, he had lived a life of hardship and suffering. Now, step by step, he was following his own plan and emerging from the shadows. Though the future remained uncertain, Ye Feng had faith in himself.

Ye Tianhua followed behind Ye Feng like an old servant.

“I’ve helped you avenge yourself to some extent, you know that, right?” With nothing else pressing, Ye Feng struck up a conversation.

“I will never forget your kindness, Master,” Ye Tianhua replied humbly.

“Have you prepared everything I asked for?”

“Master, according to your instructions, I’ve purchased the best office building in the city center—Central Tower. The secret chamber has also been remodeled as you directed.”

“Good. I’ll take a look at the chamber; lead the way.”

When they reached the chamber’s entrance, Ye Feng found that Ye Tianhua had not disappointed him. The renovations were excellent. “Very good. Go upstairs and get ready. Tomorrow, you’re to join a financial firm, and arrange a charity auction as an overseas Chinese.”

“Yes, I understand, Master.” Ye Tianhua bowed and departed.

Before coming to the manor, with Huaihuai’s guidance, Ye Feng had modified an advanced lock—one that wouldn’t be invented by the GOD organization for another thirty years and wouldn’t become popular for fifty. It was a laser fingerprint lock, and he was confident that in this era, no one could pick it.

The chamber door was built from materials used in spacecraft—reportedly impervious even to atomic bombs. The four walls had been reforged from the same substance, making the chamber a sealed steel box. With the new lock installed, it became Ye Feng’s private domain—no one else could possibly gain entry.

Once inside, Ye Feng emptied the contents of his storage ring, pouring everything out and arranging it neatly in the prepared cabinets. When he’d pilfered these items from the Luo family, he had marveled at their wealth, but only now, as he sorted through the treasures, did he realize how vast his haul truly was—it took him five whole hours to organize it all.

Then there was the mysterious soul. With his internal energy now at the first level, Huaihuai’s memory scanning abilities had improved, so Ye Feng once again scanned the soul’s memories. Oddly, it was as if a seal had been placed over them, and Huaihuai could only access two fragments.

The first showed this soul, with the help of a mysterious figure, seizing the position of Luo family patriarch during his lifetime.

The second fragment showed the new patriarch falling out with his mysterious benefactor not long after taking power, and then having his soul forcibly extracted by that same person.

The matter was puzzling. Who was this soul—just which generation of Luo patriarch had he been? Who was that mysterious person? And how was the soul extracted?

A few days before, Huaihuai couldn’t answer, but now he explained the method: in 2314, a scientist named Madrid invented a glove capable of extracting and storing souls using stored energy—a miniature version of soul transference. Later, due to its destructive potential, the device was banned. However, it had a fatal flaw: it could only store enough energy for one extraction and one installation.

Huaihuai’s words startled Ye Feng. Surely this was the work of someone from GOD—if they extracted his soul, he’d be finished.

But Huaihuai interrupted his train of thought, explaining that such energy simply didn’t exist in this era; the technology wouldn’t be invented for at least fifty more years. It couldn’t possibly be the work of GOD operatives from this time. Most likely, it was someone sent back by Skynet from the future, and no more than three people at that.

Moreover, Huaihuai said, the soul extraction process could only be used on relatively weak individuals—if Ye Feng advanced to level three or higher, he would have nothing to fear.

This put Ye Feng’s mind at ease. Though he was only at level one now, he believed that with effort, he could reach level four within half a year.

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