Chapter 38

In Raccoon City, Ye Nan and Alice sat in a modified Jeep, with Michelle behind the wheel.

Michelle had originally wanted to drive a regular car, but Ye Nan feared a sudden biohazard outbreak in Raccoon City and insisted she bring a specially engineered vehicle.

The vehicle was constructed entirely of bulletproof glass, its body made from a special alloy capable of withstanding rocket launcher explosions; it was originally reserved only for the President and heads of major conglomerates, and Michelle had obtained it only because he was Edgar Stryker’s nephew.

“Boss, what did Mr. Douglas say to make you so happy?” Michelle asked as he drove.

Since Edgar Stryker had handed him over to Ye Nan, his investigator status had not been revoked, but he had begun operating outside the system.

“Nothing much. He invested one billion dollars to form an expedition team to help me find the Blood Orchid.” Ye Nan said casually.

The expedition team was, in truth, nothing but mercenaries—he had seen them at William’s estate, each radiating lethal intent, clearly forged in blood and fire.

Ye Nan knew well: these mercenaries were here to assist him—but if he failed to find the Blood Orchid, they wouldn’t just abandon him; they’d likely kill him outright.

“One billion? Who is this William, to have so much money?” Alice marveled.

What did one billion dollars mean? With that sum, she and Grant would never have argued over money—perhaps they’d even have had a dozen sons. But sadly, Grant was dead, and now she was alone.

Alice’s mood sank, but Michelle was elated. “Mr. Douglas really is rich—no wonder he’s one of the Federal Reserve’s members.”

“Oh? One of the Federal Reserve’s members?” Ye Nan asked curiously.

In his past life, he had heard of the Federal Reserve—a currency-issuing institution from which all dollars in the world originated. The wealth of the entire global dollar supply was, in effect, the Federal Reserve’s wealth. But it had always been controlled privately, held jointly by a few conglomerates—though he never knew which ones.

He never expected to hear here that William Douglas was one of them. If true, it explained why William spent money like water—for them, dollars were little more than paper, perhaps slightly better than trash.

“Yes. The William family is one of the three ruling families of the Federal Reserve, alongside Morgan, the Emperor of Wall Street, and Rockefeller, the Oil King. But the William family is far older than either, and within the Federal Reserve, it dominates both.”

“I see.” Ye Nan fell silent, a plan slowly forming in his mind—a plan so outrageous the world would be stunned and call it madness.

Soon, the Jeep pulled up before a small villa in Raccoon City. Michelle opened the door and stepped out, walking to the villa and knocking, calling out as he did: “Dr. Ashford, it’s Michelle.”

The door creaked open, and Dr. Ashford, seated in a wheelchair, emerged. His face was ordinary, his stature short, a small mustache above his lips like Hitler’s, his bald head proof of long hours before a computer.

“Michelle, again? Has the Lianbangdiaocha Bureau still not given up?” Dr. Ashford said coolly, showing no fear whatsoever toward the Lianbangdiaocha Bureau.

“No,” Michelle waved his hands awkwardly. “It’s not like that. Someone wants to meet you, and I’m just the one introducing you.”

“Oh? The woman behind you?” Dr. Ashford paused, noticing the woman stepping down from the Jeep—he ignored the child entirely.

“No,” Michelle shook his head rapidly. “It’s Mr. Ye Nan. Mr. Ye Nan is the CEO of ICQ Company, known as a business genius.”

“Hello, Dr. Ashford. I’ve long admired your name,” Ye Nan stepped forward, extending his hand warmly.

“Hello, Mr. Ye Nan,” Dr. Ashford extended his hand, shaking Ye Nan’s lightly. “Come inside to talk.”

“Dad, who’s here?” A clear voice rang from inside the house, sweet as a nightingale.

“Sweetheart, we have guests,” Dr. Ashford’s expressionless face finally softened into a smile as he gazed affectionately at the little girl approaching.

The girl wore a white dress, golden curls cascading down her shoulders, her blue eyes curious as they studied the newcomers.

“Hello, Miss Angela, I’m Ye Nan,” Ye Nan extended his hand, friendly and warm.

“Hello, Ye Nan, I’m Angela,” Angela extended her hand too, reaching to shake his—but just before their hands touched, Ye Nan abruptly pulled back.

‘Oh no,’ Michelle thought inwardly. He knew well how deeply Dr. Ashford loved his daughter. If Ye Nan toyed with her like this, he’d be breaking ties with Dr. Ashford for good.

Dr. Ashford froze, then his face darkened with rage—he was about to confront Ye Nan—until he saw what Ye Nan did next, and his fury vanished instantly.

Ye Nan knelt on one knee, gently took Angela’s small hand, and kissed it lightly. “My dear little princess, would you be willing to accept me as your knight protector?”

Angela was stunned. Having read countless fairy tales, she understood perfectly what a knight protector meant. She had dreamed of having one—a guardian who would shield her in danger. Now, Ye Nan was offering to be that knight. She felt as if she were dreaming, this all too surreal to be real.

For a moment, Angela’s thoughts spun wildly.

“Wait—I need to think,” Angela hurried back inside, but as she climbed the stairs, she turned back and called out: “Don’t go away without me!” She was a little princess, overwhelmed by the arrival of her knight.

Dr. Ashford’s face revealed no emotion—no one could tell his thoughts on this. He simply asked softly: “Mr. Ye Nan, what do you want?”

“I want the T-virus.”