Chapter 913: The Return of the Shadow

He Yuzhu captured Zhenni Chen.

At first, this woman was quite stubborn, putting on a show as if she intended to bluff her way through.

"Mr. He, why are you capturing me? I understand now, you are dissatisfied with me pestering He Zheng; I only had more contact with him because I like him," she said with deep sincerity, her eyes even brimming with a bit of moisture, as if she had truly suffered a great injustice.

He Yuzhu smiled, didn't waste words with her, and threw a bank statement record directly in front of her.

"Is that so? I checked your account and discovered that several large consortia are paying you. What, are you working for four major consortia at the same time?"

Zhenni Chen lowered her head to look, and her face turned pale in an instant.

Every transaction on it was clear—Black Stone Group, Balzev Consortium, Katzman Consortium... the numbers, dates, and remitters were accurate to the last detail.

Her lips trembled twice; she knew that being stubborn was useless now, and her whole body was like a deflated ball, and she soon confessed everything.

"It's Black Stone Group, Balzev Consortium, Katzman Consortium... they hired me; they want to take He Zheng away as a hostage."

After listening, He Yuzhu stood up, a meaningful smile hanging on the corner of his mouth: "Do you want to die, or do you want to live?"

"Who doesn't want to live?" Zhenni Chen blurted out.

"Good. Go to Hong Kong and do some things under Zhao Ying. Don't play any tricks, otherwise, the next time I catch you, it won't be an interrogation—it will be death." He Yuzhu's tone was flat, yet it made Zhenni Chen's back feel a chill.

Three days later, Silicon Valley, M Country.

He Yuzhu had disguised himself, blending into the streets of this technology city like a drop of water. He paced back and forth around several large chip factories, scouting locations unhurriedly and looking for every security loophole.

A few days later, three chip factories were bombed one after another, with flames shooting into the sky.

And this was only the beginning.

Over the next month, chip factories in the ROK and Taiwan were razed to the ground one by one. The news of the explosions erupted like a chain of firecrackers, and the nerves of the global technology industry snapped one by one.

Nasdaq collapsed directly.

The stock prices of technology companies plummeted like a kite with a broken string, and the market was filled with wailing. In the trading hall, traders sat blankly with their heads in their hands, and the screens were filled with green—not the green of gains, but the miserable green of falling to the bottom.

The CEOs of several large chip factories flew to Washington overnight, their faces ashen and their eyes bloodshot.

"You must take action!" one CEO shouted, slapping the table, "If you don't act, we will all die!"

The M Country government's reaction was quite fast.

The ban was issued that very night. He's Chip Factory was placed on the entity list for sanctions, raw material supplies were cut off, and the global supply chain was severed in one stroke. Immediately following this, the "Technical Isolation Wall" policy was released—uniting the ROK, Taiwan, and European allies to freeze assets, revoke patents, and cut off design software; whoever dared to do business with the He Group would be kicked out of the SWIFT system.

On the Pacific Ocean, the US Navy Seventh Fleet set up checkpoints in key shipping lanes, inspecting every ship they saw and detaining any cargo suspected of being destined for the He Group.

When the news reached He Yuzhu's ears, he was leisurely brewing tea.

Steam rose in curls, the fragrance of tea permeated the air, and he picked up the teacup and blew on it, his expression as calm as if he were listening to a weather forecast.

He was not afraid at all.

Photolithography machines? Self-developed.

Etching machines? Self-developed.

High-purity silicon wafers? Self-grown.

Design software? The He Group wrote the code line by line themselves.

Since the fifties, He Yuzhu had been laying out the chip industry chain in this world. From the first day he transmigrated here, he knew that one day, his neck would inevitably be grabbed by others. Therefore, he had long since made everything domestic—the entire industry chain was self-sufficient, not relying on the outside for even a single screw.

M Country's strangulation order hit nothing but cotton; they didn't even hear a sound.

As for the naval blockade?

He Yuzhu took action directly. He went out to sea with merchant ships; if you dared to come up and inspect, he dared to board your warship. In just two short months, eleven M Country destroyers and cruisers were sent to the bottom of the sea, sinking silently.

The M Country Navy grew desperate and changed their tactics, shelling any ship they saw.

As a result, a few days later, several of their military bases were bombed, shaking the earth and mountains.

By the time the White House finally came to its senses and locked its gaze firmly on the He Group, He Yuzhu had already boarded a flight to Europe.

Before leaving, he left a text message for Zhao Ying, with just a few simple words: Sell off all remaining technology stocks.

Europe, Balkans.

Over Kosovo, NATO warplanes had been circling for half a month, the roar of their engines constant day and night.

In fact, this world was already different from his previous life.

Because He Yuzhu had secretly stirred the pot, Yugoslavia had not been torn apart. Although it was riddled with holes and teetering on the brink, it was still holding on to its last breath and hadn't fallen apart. The Soviet Union was the same; it should have collapsed with a bang in 1991, but it was still lingering there to this day, internally as chaotic as a pot of boiling porridge, but the stature of a great power had not yet fallen.

The purpose of He Yuzhu's trip was very simple—he wanted to pull out NATO's teeth, one by one, until they were all gone.

First stop, Fairford Air Base, United Kingdom.

He Yuzhu crouched in the grass outside the wire fence, a blade of grass in his mouth, observing patiently for several hours. By the end of his observation, he almost laughed out loud.

The military base, which claimed to be the "strongest Air Fortress in Europe," had defenses so lax it was as if they were on vacation.

Late at night, he swaggered his way in.

Fuel depots, hangars, control towers—not a single one was missed; he planted explosives everywhere. He also individually attached "gifts" to every aircraft parked on the tarmac.

Retreating to a hillside several kilometers away, He Yuzhu lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and the corners of his mouth curled slightly.

He pressed the detonation button.

"Boom————!!!"

In that instant, half of England's sky was burned red.

The shockwave of the explosion shattered all the car windows for several kilometers around, and a massive mushroom cloud rose above the Fairford base, flames leaping hundreds of meters high, the thick smoke so dense that even satellites couldn't penetrate it. The dozens of bombers parked in the hangars were all reduced to a pile of scrap metal in the sea of fire.

He Yuzhu turned and left without even looking back.

Next stop, Germany, Ramstein Air Base.

This time, NATO had learned its lesson; the alert level was raised to the highest, the number of sentry posts tripled, and searchlights illuminated the base brighter than day.

He Yuzhu circled the outside once, and unhurriedly used the system's tunneling function to sneak directly into the ammunition depot on the east side.

He retrieved some of the explosives—good stuff, couldn't waste it all—and then lit the remaining explosives.

As soon as the explosion sounded, the entire base erupted in chaos. Everyone ran for their lives, officers roared at the top of their lungs, but the soldiers didn't listen to anyone; the scene was as chaotic as a pot of porridge.

He Yuzhu took advantage of the chaos and went straight to the tarmac, planting Explosive on one aircraft after another. By the time he sauntered out of the main gate, the first explosion rang out behind him.

He did not look back and headed straight for the next stop—Aviano Air Base in Italy.

Sentries were everywhere here, the barking of military dogs rose and fell, and the security was as tight as an iron bucket.

He Yuzhu tunneled in just the same and planted bombs in the fuel depot.

"Boom!" A loud bang.

The moment the fuel depot exploded, the entire base was flipped over from underground as if by an invisible giant, and fireballs rolled up into the sky.

After the base was destroyed, He Yuzhu continued to rush toward the next target.

Rota in Spain, Souda Bay in Greece, Incirlik in Turkey—one after another, none were left out.

Tankers, reconnaissance aircraft, and early warning aircraft were all written off. The runways were blasted into hideous craters, the command system was paralyzed, and the fuel depots burned for three days and three nights without being extinguished.

The top brass of NATO went completely insane.

At an emergency meeting, a group of generals had faces as pale as paper.

Someone's voice trembled as they lowered their tone and said, "Is... is it that Shadow Organization from the Soviet Union that has returned? We... we should call it quits..."