Chapter 128: Plan Adjustment

In South Korea, all gangs operate on the same old-school triad model, their rules stuck in the last century, where "you're in if I say you're in." Even the Jinmen Group, the pioneer of reform and legalization, is a mess inside—no clear promotion system, power still held by various bosses big and small.

South Korea's market is only so big; there are a few hundred notable gangs large and small, and if you count the minor factions under a hundred members, the number is uncountable. A bunch of people fight to the death over scraps—unless a superior dies, subordinates have zero chance of rising.

Only Jinmen Group stands out, being South Korea's largest force. Though they have some overseas operations in smuggling, piracy, and human trafficking, that's all they've got. They dare not touch their adoptive father's vast lands and wealth—pathetic.

The Tianxia Hui is different. Wang Yan has never been someone who denies his subordinates opportunities; his thirteen-rank system alone gives them a clear path forward.

As long as your ability and contributions are sufficient, even if you can't become a manager, you're still a low-level grunt—but you still get the proper benefits, no worse off than anyone else. Of course, superiors will always suppress subordinates, but they dare not go too far. Not only is there a clear promotion path, but also a monitoring mechanism: internal reports must be thoroughly investigated. If proven true, the arrogant offender is stripped of several ranks—even if they don't die—and the whistleblower is rewarded.

Of course, we must consider the Tianxia Hui's overall profits—supporting so many people costs enormous sums. South Korea simply cannot sustain the Tianxia Hui's numbers, so expansion beyond its borders is inevitable. Wang Yan doesn't even need to say it; his subordinates are already screaming to invade North America and overthrow their adoptive father. Once the gang expands into new territories, countless new positions open up, allowing high-ranking subordinates to finally gain rights matching their status.

Thus, the Tianxia Hui's subordinates are on a completely different level from those of other gangs in terms of initiative—they won't be broken.

As a result, the campaign against South Korea went far smoother than expected; Wang Yan greatly overestimated the strength of these scumbags.

By October 2006, after more than a year, the Tianxia Hui had reached the line between Daejeon and Andong. Nearly half of South Korea's territory now lay under their control.

Only a few hundred or thousand-member gangs resisted, along with the Jinmen Group, enraged by the Tianxia Hui stealing their business. The rest mostly surrendered or fled.

The Tianxia Hui isn't that brutal—they still leave people a way out. They only seize cities; other areas with no economic value are useless to occupy and only cost money.

So the weak fled to remote corners to declare themselves kings. The strong didn't want those places either—they couldn't possibly retire from the underworld and live quietly, not after getting used to quick money. Why settle for pennies? That left surrender as the only option, since wherever they went, they'd still run into the Tianxia Hui.

As for the two undercover subordinates, they're now doing well—essentially the top faces of their respective factions. They earned their positions through real combat; otherwise, they'd never have risen. Jealousy and resentment are virtues to some—if not for this war, those two would've been crushed long ago.

In this same year-plus period, Fengdan Sihai has also grown rapidly.

Its logistics network now covers the southern regions under Tianxia Hui control. Thanks to the many shops seized and vast amounts of black money, the small items delivery service has been fully launched. They've also acquired two second-hand cargo ships and begun operations within Asia—now technically a multinational transport company, overall decent.

The reason it's only the south is because Fengdan Sihai can't penetrate the north. People are strange—there are always idiots who randomly block their delivery trucks. They strike once and vanish, wasting energy for little gain, annoying as hell and causing serious economic losses.

These fools cling to wishful thinking, with no clear understanding of the Tianxia Hui's power. Wang Yan won't tolerate this. This won't be forgotten—they're all written down. When the Tianxia Hui moves north, every last one of them will be scraped clean and thrown into the sea.

Another major business: communication software and social websites. They've done well in South Korea and Japan, with daily user growth and rising recognition. Surveys show many users have recommended them to friends.

Wang Mou knew this was inevitable—he remembered the software's key features, and their iteration speed outpaced piracy, crushing many competitors. With endless funds, growth became a snowball effect.

As for Feisikui, after months of negotiation, leveraging the domain name and Wind and Clouds Everywhere's own resources, they invested over three million and secured 2.5% equity. Sometimes, more money doesn't guarantee success…

Fengdan Sihai's future prospects are now clear, especially for the communication software and social platforms. Several major South Korean chaebols and Western venture capitalists have taken notice and are making preliminary contact.

In truth, Wind and Clouds Everywhere and the Tianxia Hui's combined wealth alone could fully fund both apps' development—no outside capital or IPOs needed. But in the game on the table, minority rules over majority—you still have to follow the rules…

Fushan, a stunning hillside villa with an unbeatable ocean view.

Wang Yan climbed out of the pool, sat on a lounge chair nearby, and idly picked up a cigarette from the table, putting it in his mouth.

Zhang Dongrui, who'd been waiting nearby, respectfully pulled out an expensive lighter—used maybe a few times a year—and stepped forward to light his boss's cigarette.

After playing the part, Wang Yan took a satisfied drag: "What is it?"

"Boss, Daejeon and Andong are secured. Our logistics are in place. We're now advancing toward Qingzhou and Hongcheng. Do you have any orders?"

Zhang Dongrui had been chairman for over a year and believed he understood his boss's mind. Even though Boss didn't meddle, he knew everything—even if Zhang didn't report. So it was better to show up, make an appearance, and prove his loyalty.

He wasn't like that dead bastard Park Jeong-woo, who tried to build his own power base to challenge Boss? The more he observed, the more he realized how terrifying Boss was. He could feel it—if Park had lived longer and dared to rebel, Boss would've made sure he couldn't even die easily.

He had a map brought over, studied it for a while, then asked: "You've personally overseen the Tianxia Hui's expansion—you know everything. How long do you estimate until we reach Seoul?"

"Boss, the Tianxia Hui's success today is entirely due to your planning—I've merely followed your orders." Zhang Dongrui had learned to think—he caught the implication and quickly offered flattery.

Seeing Wang Yan wave dismissively, he sighed inwardly and continued: "Our control over territory far surpasses any other gang—even Jinmen Group can't match us. We now hold nearly half of South Korea. With our constantly raised standards, over seven thousand first-tier members have passed the evaluation, and tens of thousands of peripheral subordinates remain below standard."

"It took us over a year to expand from Fushan to where we are today. With our current strength, capturing the northern region should take about a year. If we factor in future strength growth, we might even do it in under a year."

Wang Yan noticed his wording: "capture the north," not "reach Seoul." Too fast won't work. As always: no one's a fool. If he played both sides or pretended to be neutral later, no one would believe him—and that'd be boring.

"After securing Qingzhou and Hongcheng, pause for now. Thoroughly consolidate the territories we've taken. Also, select 3,500 first-tier members: split into two groups—2,500 to Japan, 1,000 to Bangkok. Go."

"Yes, Boss."

After Zhang Dongrui left, Wang Yan made three calls on his phone.

First call: summoned the two idiots.

Second call: contacted the two undercover subordinates to confirm the strength they currently controlled.

Third call: just said three words—"Move now."

No plan is perfect. The World Association's strength and the South Korean gangs' incompetence made the campaign too smooth. No need for elaborate schemes—just a relentless advance, crushing all rivals. Too smooth, so he had to adjust the plan.

Soon after, Zhang Guangshan and Li Quan arrived together at the villa.

Their lives were still good—they'd opened an entertainment company, backed by Wind and Sea and World Association resources, plus South Korea's idol system. They'd just stroll around the company, pick someone they liked, then send them out for events, eyeing this one or that one, exchanging resources and throwing in some cash to get them…

Of course, that was only early on, when they first had success—they couldn't get too cocky. Later, Wang Yan beat them twice, and they calmed down.

"Boss, what do you need us for?"

Zhang Guangshan casually grabbed an apple and sat on the sofa, biting into it. Li Quan followed, breaking off a banana and sitting beside him.

"You've been enjoying yourselves for over a year. Remember when I said I'd send you overseas?"

"Where are we going?"

Zhang Guangshan didn't remember anything—Boss said go, he went. No questions.

Wang Yan glanced at them and said calmly: "Thailand or Japan. You two decide."

Li Quan frowned: "Boss, can't we go together?"

They were truly inseparable—got along perfectly. Suddenly being split up felt awful.

Wang Yan shook his head, silent.

"Boss, I'll go to Japan." Zhang Guangshan cut in before Li Quan could respond.

"What the fuck, you—"

"Thailand's great—the girls there are fantastic. They even offer massage and full-body services—something most people can't even dream of. And I'm not going to Japan for the girls. Lately, when we did business with the Shankou Group, their smug attitude made me sick. This time, I'm going to crush them."

"You fucking—"

"Alright, alright, it's settled." Zhang Guangshan turned to Wang Yan: "Boss, when do we leave?"

Wang Yan smiled at Li Quan: "Is it settled?"

Li Quan sighed and nodded: "Fine… it's settled."

He's still over here thinking about brotherhood, while that bastard Wang Ba is already thinking about chasing women—fucking hell…

"Alright, it's settled. Zhang Dongrui is already arranging personnel—you two head over in a couple days; we've got some groundwork there already. This time, you're going to…," Wang Yan laid out the details, then added, "Be careful. Don't spend all your time thinking about what's in your pants. It's not like here—things aren't that easy over there. Don't be flashy, or you'll get killed and no one'll bury you."

"Don't worry, Yan Ge, we know." Both replied in unison.

"That's all. Enjoy these next couple days. I won't see you off—just stay safe."

After they left, Wang Yan walked out onto the rooftop terrace, sipping wine slowly, smoking a cigarette, quietly watching the horizon where sea met sky…

………

Shou'er, night.

A luxury apartment building.

Shi Dongchu adjusted his attire in the mirror, lingered a moment with the beautiful woman behind him—long hair cascading, crimson lips, slender figure, clad in a silk robe, her curves half-exposed—then, gritting through his lower back pain, he stepped out with a swagger.

Downstairs, the junior brother obediently opened the rear car door. Once Shi Dongchu was seated, he returned to the driver's seat.

"Chairman, where to?"

"Home."

"Yes, Chairman."

The driver, glancing at Shi Dongchu through the rearview mirror, started the car and merged into traffic.

Shi Dongchu's home was a villa on the outskirts, scenic and serene, fitting for a big shot.

Within the city, things were manageable; the farther out you went, the more trucks appeared—some hauling fruits, vegetables, rice, flour, oil, grain; others carrying construction materials, or hot-selling goods from various stores, and so on.

The junior brother drove as usual, stopping at an intersection to wait for the light before turning left. Three more intersections down was the road leading up to the villa—he knew it well.

Through the rearview mirror, he glanced again at the Chairman. Maybe he'd pushed too hard—the Chairman was now asleep.

The red light turned green. The driver accelerated smoothly, with zero jolt—this was a mandatory skill for anyone driving for the Chairman.

Just as the car reached the center of the road, a heavy truck barreled toward them at full speed. The driver saw, in horror, that the truck even veered slightly—perfectly slamming into the car's central pillar.

Intentional—this was the driver's final thought in this life.

It rammed all the way into the median of the opposite lane, crushing the sedan into severe deformation before finally braking to a stop.

The truck driver parked, grabbed the bottle of high-proof liquor beside him, and downed half in one gulp. Then he stumbled out of the cab—too tall to stand steady, he fell. The alcohol churned in his stomach; he bent over and vomited onto the ground.

While vomiting, the truck driver subtly scanned the intersection's surveillance cameras, confirmed something, then after a moment, staggered to his feet and shuffled toward the mangled car.

Inside, three men bled profusely; the airbags, hit too hard, had long since deflated.

He circled the car, checking each man's breath. Startled, he stumbled backward and collapsed, then scrambled up and ran off.

Meanwhile, far away at Fu Mountain, Wang Yan—lying in bed enjoying oral pleasure—received a text from an unknown number: simple, just "OK."

No mistake—it was Wang Yan who did it.

Honestly, if he hadn't acted, Shi Dongchu might not have died. Now, to counter the World Association's pressure, the Jinmen Group wasn't exactly united, but tensions between the Hu and Beidamen factions had lessened. There was little left to fight over—both factions had lost most of their profitable businesses to the World Association. If they weren't focused on taking down the World Association, but wasting energy on internal squabbles, they'd be idiots.

And now, the police in Shou'er had changed their targets—and their appetite. Convicting Shi Dongchu and toppling the Jinmen Group wasn't enough anymore; they now aimed to take down the World Association too, since it wasn't yet powerful enough to resist.

Most crucially: the mastermind behind Shi Dongchu's death.

Though the original story didn't show it, Wang Yan believed Li Zicheng was the most likely culprit. After all, Captain Jiang—the old bastard—kept manipulating Li Zicheng, saying things like "convicted, you rejoin the force; dead, you rejoin the force." Captain Jiang didn't understand Li Zicheng's torment. His management style was flawed—he wasn't a good leader.

Years of pressure naturally led Li Zicheng to consider shortcuts. Killing Shi Dongchu would let him return to the police force. But life is full of accidents—things never go as planned. Killing Shi Dongchu didn't mean he'd be reinstated.

Instead, that old bastard Captain Jiang launched another candidate manipulation scheme, forcing Li Zicheng to do the dirty work. That shattered him completely. Later, when he struck at his superiors—and their superiors—he showed no mercy, clean and swift.

Now things were different. He'd known Captain Jiang's intentions all along. After fighting the World Association for so long, he'd developed real hatred. Plus, he'd suffered a setback trying to kill Wang Yan. After all, those who hunt dragons too long eventually become dragons themselves—he'd been stirred by rivalry. Now, fully committed to taking down the World Association with Ding Qing and his brother, his mental state had improved. People, as long as they have some goal, rarely go to extremes.

Wang Yan shook his head and stopped thinking. In the original story, it didn't matter who killed Shi Dongchu. Now, he deserved to die—and his death benefited Wang Mou. That was enough.

Overthinking wasted his brilliant mind. What mattered now was the task at hand.

………

At the accident scene, a passerby enthusiastically called the police.

Traffic police, criminal investigators, and ambulances all arrived.

Identity was easy to confirm—within moments, they knew the car's occupants were none other than Jinmen Group Chairman Shi Dongchu.

Everyone knew what this meant.

But some things can't be stopped—what's meant to happen always will.

Soon, Jinmen Group personnel rapidly gathered at the crash site. They didn't go to the hospital—Shi Dongchu was already dead.

【Stable-running novel app, preferred by old users over the classic version, HuanyuanApp.】

Looking around, Li Zhongjiu frowned and gestured to his subordinate.

The subordinate understood instantly. Without a word, he led a group to drive away the curious onlookers, then took the reporters who'd rushed over to report the news aside for a friendly chat.

Ding Qing, Li Zhongjiu, Li Zicheng, Zhang Xiuji, and a host of Jinmen Group's key figures arrived at the scene.

After seeing Shi Dongchu's gruesome state, they listened as the traffic and criminal police analyzed the accident.

"Mr. Ding, Mr. Li, and all of Chairman Shi's colleagues," a senior officer greeted politely, "After reviewing surveillance footage, analyzing the crash scene, examining the truck driver's confession upon arrest, and interviewing those who had contact with Chairman Shi, I can state clearly… Chairman Shi's accident was entirely caused by the truck driver's drunk driving and running a red light—an accident, not a deliberate murder."

Li Zhongjiu regarded Ding Qing, whose face was filled with regret, with a sly smile: "Is that so, Mr. Ding?"