Chapter 225: Raging Retribution Against the Wokou, Thunder and Lightning Stir

Smoke swirled in the study, the heavy atmosphere almost suffocating. Qi Ming Yuan had just reported the earth‑shattering secret he extracted from Xiaoli Daifu—a series of attacks jointly planned by the East and Yingjili, with covert support from France behind them. They intend to use this to destabilize Shen City and undermine Lin Yu's rule.

Lin Yu stood with his back to the crowd, alone before the massive floor‑to‑ceiling window. Outside, the myriad lights of Shen City flickered in the night, the city he had poured his heart into now shrouded in an invisible web of conspiracy. His silhouette stretched long in the light, projected onto the carpet like a drawn sword, exuding a heart‑pounding sense of oppression.

The smoke rose slowly between his fingers, blurring his expression. After a long silence, Lin Yu turned slowly, crushing the half‑smoked cigarette hard into the heavy mahogany ashtray. The ember went out instantly, as if not only the cigarette but his last strand of patience had been snuffed out.

"It seems the lesson we gave them last time wasn't deep enough," Lin Yu's voice was oddly calm, yet it sent a bone‑chilling cold through the room, "Do they think my blade, Lin Yu, has grown dull?" His gaze swept over Qi Ming Yuan, then fell on Feng An and Yan Beichen, his eyes roiling with icy murderous intent.

"Relay my command!" Lin Yu's voice rose sharply, bearing an unquestionable iron‑blooded will, "Feng An!"

"At once!" Feng An instantly straightened, standing upright.

"Immediately bring the guard and police to seal off every known former Eastern expatriate residential and activity site in the city!" Lin Yu said word for word, "Arrest them! Men, women, old and young, capture three hundred in total! Any resistor, kill without mercy!"

Feng An's eyes hardened, a murderous surge rising in his chest: "Yes!"

Lin Yu turned to Yan Beichen: "Yan Beichen!"

"At once!" Yan Beichen stepped forward, his gaze steady.

"You, lead the Intelligence Bureau task force and part of the guard, and immediately seal off all large foreign firms, chambers of commerce and clubs in the city with Yingjili or France backgrounds!" Lin Yu's voice carried a cold murderous edge, "Take every so‑called manager, comprador, 'high‑society figure' one by one, lock them in the jail! Anyone who dares to block, kill without hesitation!"

A flash of cold light appeared in Yan Beichen's eyes: "Understood!"

Lin Yu walked back to the window, looking down at Shen City under the night sky. His voice was like a north wind in winter, cutting through everyone present: "I will make everyone know that this Shen City is my domain, Lin Yu! Whoever dares to reach out here, I will chop off their claws!" He clenched his fist, knuckles whitening, "I will use the blood of the Easterners to give those presumptuous foreigners a proper lesson!"

His words were filled with a deep‑seated hatred toward the Great Powers accumulated over past and present lives, especially a profound loathing of the Easterners.

In this moment, Lin Yu seemed the guardian standing at the brink of the nation's peril, determined to use iron‑blooded methods to tell all covetous eyes: this land will no longer be a fish to be slaughtered at will!

As dawn just began to pale, the former Eastern expatriate district of Shen City was surrounded by soldiers and police armed with loaded rifles. Feng An stood beside a military truck, his face as still as water, staring ahead. Behind him, hundreds of fully‑armed soldiers and police had formed squads, beginning a carpet‑style sweep of the entire area.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" The rapid knocking sounded especially harsh in the silent early morning.

"Open the door! Police!"

The unresponsive door was kicked open outright, the sound of shattering glass rising and falling. A suffocating aura of panic filled the air.

"Baka! What are you doing?" a middle‑aged Eastern man in pajamas was roughly dragged out of the doorway; he protested loudly in halting Great Dry language, "I am the manager of the Tangben Chamber of Commerce, I want to see your superior!"

Feng An gave him a cold glance: "Take him away."

Two soldiers stepped forward at once, binding him tightly with rope. The man tried to speak, but a heavy butt of a rifle slammed onto his back, the pain forcing him to collapse to his knees.

"Help! Help!" a woman in a kimono clutching a young child screamed hysterically. She held the child tightly, but was soon forcibly separated by the soldiers. The child's cries and the mother's shouts echoed through the early‑morning street.

"Stop! I can pay!" a well‑dressed Eastern merchant fished a bundle of banknotes from his coat, trembling as he handed them to Feng An, "Here are ten thousand yuan, please spare us..."

A flash of disgust crossed Feng An's eyes; he lifted his foot and delivered a heavy kick, sending the merchant sprawling, the bills scattering everywhere. "Take him away too!"

A young Eastern man suddenly broke free from the crowd and bolted. "Bang!" A crisp gunshot ripped the dawn, and the man fell with the report, blood quickly spreading beneath him. That shot seemed like a warning; all the captured Easterners fell silent, leaving only suppressed sobbing.

"Sir, we have already captured two hundred seventy‑three people," a soldier reported to Feng An.

Feng An nodded: "Continue the search, bring the total to three hundred."

On the street, more Easterners were hauled out. Well‑dressed merchants, panicked women, stumbling elders, and even a few disheveled ronin. They shouted, begged, or glared venomously at the surrounding soldiers, yet all were brutally shoved forward like livestock onto waiting trucks.

Feng An stood at the roadside, his expression cold and indifferent as he watched. In his eyes, none of these Easterners were innocent. Whether openly or covertly they supported the agents who harmed Great Dry people in the shadows, and they deserved to pay for it.

"Sir, we have now captured three hundred!"

Feng An looked around; in the morning light, the once‑bustling Eastern district was now a scene of ruin, doors and windows shattered, belongings strewn everywhere. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and fear.

"Disperse!" At his command, the convoy of trucks packed with Easterners set off. In the dawn, the convoy resembled a gloomy long dragon, carrying the Easterners toward an unknown fate.

In the faint morning light, the waterfront that once displayed the power of the Western Great Powers was heavily surrounded. Squads of soldiers armed with loaded rifles and Intelligence Bureau agents blocked every road leading to those foreign firms. The Western‑style edifices that once made Great Dry people uneasy— the HSBC building, McGarry Bank, and the French Association— now stood silent under the barrels of Great Dry soldiers.

Yan Beichen stood before the HSBC building, his gaze austere. These structures, steeped in neoclassical style, had once symbolized the Western Great Powers' domineering presence in Shen City, and today, all that will change.

"Action!" With Yan Beichen's command, the agents sprang like drawn swords, rushing into those foreign firms and clubs.

"What's going on? This is British territory!" the British manager of HSBC, in the morning meeting, saw the intruding soldiers and erupted in anger, shouting in broken Great Dry, "You are violating the treaty! I will contact the consulate immediately!"

Yan Beichen gave him a cold look: "Take him away." Two agents stepped forward at once, subduing the privileged foreigner without a word.

"Impossible! This is a provocation against France!" the president of the French Association flushed, roaring in English laced with French, "We have diplomatic immunity! You barbarians!"

"In Shen City, no one has immunity," Yan Beichen's voice was icy, "Take him away as well. Seize all accounts and assets!"

The agents worked cleanly and efficiently, prying open the safe and boxing up ledgers and documents one by one. Several foreign staff attempted to destroy the papers and were instantly subdued with grappling techniques. The once‑arrogant foreigners now lay in a mess on the ground, their suits and shoes dust‑covered.

"You yellow‑skinned monkeys!" a British merchant struggled, trying to resist, "You will pay for this! The British Empire will not..."

He was cut off mid‑sentence by a hand slash to the back of his neck, collapsing softly. Yan Beichen watched the scene, a faint cold smile curling his lips. These foreigners, accustomed to ruling Shen City with impunity, had long forgotten who truly owned this land.

On the streets outside, more and more Great Dry citizens gathered, watching the once‑high‑and‑mighty foreigners being led away. Some began to clap, others cheered, and decades of pent‑up resentment erupted at that moment.

"Look, those foreigners have their day now!"

"Serves them right! Let them taste being bullied!"

"Chief Lin is mighty!"

Yan Beichen stood on the steps, surveying everything. In the morning light, those Western buildings still towered, but they were no longer symbols of colonial power, instead testimonies to Great Dry's reclamation of sovereignty. He turned and entered the bank building, beginning to personally oversee the seizure work.

It is time for these foreigners to understand that the era of privilege has ended; this is Lin Yu's Shen City, not their colonial playground.