Miracle Card Shop: All My Cards Can Be Actualize

Chapter 622: Why don’t you value your life more!?



— New Atlantis —

As the night sea wind passed along the coast, a small fishing boat lay anchored just beyond the reach of the new Atlantis coastline, a lone, brightly lit dot amidst the black expanse of ocean.

Onboard, a woman hung suspended upside down, tied securely by ropes to the ship's pulley. Her body dangled while she slept, her feet resting against the rigging. This woman was Susan Dennis—the same Susan hailed by business media and industry elites as the "Second Victoria Goldwyn of Southeast Asia," and celebrated as the "Princess of the Business World." She was an accomplished CEO and a role model for aspiring women in business.

However, her reputation held a dark side known to certain circles. Susan had deep ties to the underworld, with small and medium-sized gangs eating out of her hand like obedient dogs. She had it all: power, wealth, and beauty.

Yet, her biggest flaw—the one she kept carefully hidden—was her insatiable thrill in stealing men away from other women, a compulsive habit that blotted her seemingly perfect facade.

Slap!

"Hey! Wake up!" A rugged hand slapped her doll-like face. The sting and the disorienting pressure of being hung upside down jolted her back to awareness. She had been captured, imprisoned for a night, and then brought here for a little "chat."

As Susan's head began to clear, she took in her surroundings, though her mind remained groggy from the drugs that had kept her sedated since five in the morning. Her head still pounded, making it hard to focus.

"Who are you?" she managed, squinting at the figures around her. Her vision was hazy, but she could make out several muscular men standing beside a young man in glasses, dressed neatly in a black suit like a butler.

"Ms. Susan Dennis, do you realize what will happen if you don't try to understand the situation and negotiate with us?" asked the young man in a cold, polished tone.

"Hey…sweetie, you look nice. Aren't you a butler? Care to work for me?" Susan said, her groggy mind latching onto the first thought that came to mind.

The young man glanced at the other men, who exchanged puzzled looks. It seemed Susan's brain was still reeling, leaving her unable to comprehend the situation.

The man in glasses was none other than Russo Veneziale. He adjusted his glasses, as well as his state of mind, unfazed but mildly irritated by her confusion.

"Ms. Susan," Russo said with a cold smile, "I assure you, the drug we used to sedate you wasn't potent enough to affect your mental faculties to the extent that you've forgotten your basic instinct for self-preservation."

Hearing this, Susan slowly regained her senses. She began taking in her surroundings, and her mind started piecing together what was really happening. The setup was ominous: the dark sea at night, a lone fishing boat anchored just outside the coast of New Atlantis—far enough to avoid attention but close enough for a quick return. And here she was, tied and hanging upside down from the ship's pulley... It didn't look good for her at all.

Russo smiled and pulled a stool over, settling down in front of Susan. This was the type of conversation he'd come to expect from those who found themselves in her position.

"Ms. Susan, do you truly believe that those people would come to your aid? If you really think that, you're being quite naive. And as for City Hall? We have connections there as well. In my line of work, anyone half-decent at their job has a few allies in City Hall," Russo said nonchalantly.

"And the police?" He continued. "After what you did to the founder of this country, I doubt they're overly… enthusiastic about coming to your rescue. As for the sea patrol, they just passed by not long ago. Let's just say Mr. Cao, the Minister of Defense, isn't exactly thrilled that you still do not have a permanent residence 'Under' the New Atlantis' coast among the fish. So… count them out. Even if they caught us tossing you overboard, they wouldn't bat an eye." Russo grinned and leaned forward, emphasizing on the word 'Under'.

"Now that we've cleared that up, let me ask you… a question, the only question that matters… How much do you think" Russo raised a single finger, directing it at her. ".... is your life worth?"

"What? What do you mean?" Susan replied, a mixture of fear and confusion crossing her face.

"Come on, Ms. Susan, we're all businesspeople here. If the price is right, even if the higher-ups don't particularly want you alive, we could negotiate a deal. We might even bear some heat on your behalf—provided, of course, that you promise not to cause them any trouble from here on out. You go your way; they go theirs. Complete strangers."

"Who are you people?" Susan asked, her eyes widening as she began to realize these men were not part of the usual gangs under her thumb. Only a select few would fit into that exclusive category.

"We're with the Veneziale gang. I'm Russo Veneziale. A pleasure, Ms. Susan—though pardon me if I can't offer a handshake," Russo said, glancing at her bound hands as she hung upside down.

After hearing Russo's response, Susan knew she had underestimated the severity of her situation. Why did she ever think kidnapping Daniel Emberweave to make him hers was a good idea back then? That was a suicidal move! Even if it had succeeded, did she really think Daniel would have been thrilled? Hardly. She wouldn't have been surprised if she had never opened her eyes again after losing consciousness.

"How… how about… twenty… no… thirty… thirty million U.S. dollars?" Susan offered hesitantly.

At this, Russo chuckled, joined by the laughter of the men around him, as if they'd all just heard a joke.

"Come on, Ms. Susan, I think you can do better than that. Do you think we're beggars?" Russo's smile was cold, his eyes devoid of warmth, like those of a wolf lurking beneath a sheep's guise.

Without waiting for her response, Russo gestured to one of his men, who entered the cabin, retrieved a magazine, and handed it to Russo.

The title read The Global Enterprise, a publication profiling top CEOs and industry leaders, analyzing global economic trends, investigating corporate scandals, and spotlighting technological innovation.

Russo flipped open to a page on Susan Dennis, highlighting her assets and business empire in Southeast Asia.

"According to this issue of The Global Enterprise, your annual revenue is about a hundred million, and your total assets are around six hundred million U.S. dollars. Lady, you didn't even offer ten percent of your total assets. Why is your life so cheap? Why don't you value your life more?"

"Err…" Susan was taken aback. The words, 'Why don't you value your life more?' had a strange impact. She'd heard this phrase countless times in dramas, usually when a dashing and dominant CEO was stopping his love interest from making a stupid decision. But in this context, it was off putting… even though the man saying it was undeniably good-looking.

"Then… fifty… fifty million!" Susan gritted her teeth, trying to raise the offer.

"Fifty million? Bull, release only half of her body. She's only offering fifty million, it's only half of her annual revenue." Russo instructed, looking over at a massive, muscular man who looked like he could wrestle a bear barehanded.

"Yes, young master." Bull disappeared into the cabin and returned with a large chainsaw, its blade still smeared with gore, as if it had recently been used on raw meat.

Vrooomm!

The chainsaw roared to life as Bull approached Susan.

"Kyahhhh! That's all of my liquidated assets! I can't give you more than that! If I give any more, my business won't have enough cash flow!" she screamed, eyes wide with terror.

Russo, still sitting calmly on his stool, remarked nonchalantly, "I don't think cash flow is your most urgent problem right now."

"Arrrrghhh! Eighty! Eighty million! That's all I can manage! I can't move any more assets than that… The numbers in that magazine… they… they're inflated! I… I…. bribed the editor to make my company and reputation look better… please… trust me…" Susan's composed CEO facade was gone; she was now just a frightened woman on the verge of breaking down.

"Waaaahhh! All of you are so cruel! Too cruel! Waaahhhh!" Susan sobbed uncontrollably, her cries reaching a desperate pitch, forcing Russo to cover his ears.

"Good grief! This is too much. Somebody, put her to sleep!" Another man stepped forward, injecting Susan with a sedative that quickly put her under.

After Susan was put to sleep, silence settled once more. Russo took out his phone and dialed his father.

"Dad, it's done... We've given her a lesson she won't forget, just as Lady Envy instructed. And we made a decent profit on the side," Russo reported, pausing to listen to his father's response.

"Yes, Dad, we'll make sure she lives to remember this and won't trouble Lord Emberweave again," Russo confirmed, then continued discussing the arrangements for what would follow.

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