Chapter 904 - 410: The Death Throes of the Financial Vampires (Part 2)
Chapter 904: Chapter 410: The Death Throes of the Financial Vampires (Part 2)
Lionel shouted angrily, though his heart was a storm of emotions: "Do you know the consequences of attacking a Golden Council member? Before the sun rises tomorrow, your accounts will be wiped clean, your family will disappear, even the Eagle’s Nest commander will have to kneel and beg for my forgiveness!"
The martial artists remained unmoved.
The leader of the group waved his hand, and two silver-plated chains wrapped themselves around Lionel’s wrists like living creatures.
The instant the silver touched his skin, he let out a heart-wrenching scream — a pain never before experienced by the Blood Race.
"Take him away."
The leader said coldly.
As Lionel was escorted out of the office, he finally saw the scene outside: the entire Golden Bull Street was surrounded by armored vehicles, and armed helicopters hovered in the sky.
Further away, thick smoke billowed from the Golden Council Headquarters Building, and dozens of Golden Family members like him were handcuffed and loaded onto military vehicles.
"This can’t be..."
Lionel murmured to himself: "What about the President? Congress? How dare they..."
The elevator door opened, and a middle-aged man in a general’s uniform stepped in.
Lionel recognized him - Maxim Klaus, the chief commander of the Eagle’s Nest Special Forces, a five-star general.
"Klaus!"
Lionel struggled to roar in anger: "Do you have any idea what you’re doing? The great and eternal Golden Twelve Families will make you wish you were dead!"
General Maxim looked expressionlessly at the former high-and-mighty financial vampire now roaring like a defeated dog. He slowly removed his gloves and received a document from his adjutant.
"Lionel Rothschild, currently 287 years old, effectively controls 42% of the Western Pole Kingdom’s central bank shares, manipulating three presidential elections through shadow companies."
The General’s voice was devoid of any emotion: "In the past fifty years, directly causing 327 ’suicide’ incidents, with victims’ blood drawn dry."
Lionel’s face changed dramatically: "How could you know this..."
"Your god is dead."
Maxim suddenly said, a cruel smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: "The Blood-Colored Sanctuary has been uprooted, the Crimson Chalice shattered into pieces. And the other god you have angered has already stepped onto the land of the Western Pole Kingdom."
The General stepped forward and slapped a satellite photo onto Lionel’s chest.
In the photo, a man in white clothes was walking on a sword, crossing the midline of the Atlantic Ocean. Despite the limited pixels, the fearsome sword light was still clearly visible.
"Ye... Qing...zhou..."
As Lionel uttered this name, his teeth involuntarily chattered. Not long ago, when they received news of the destruction of the Blood-Colored Sanctuary, they laughed it off as an Oriental fairy tale.
"The President and Congress have signed a special purging order."
General Maxim turned and walked toward the elevator: "We need to use the lives of the Golden Family to calm the anger of the East Pole Kingdom’s Sword God."
As Lionel was dragged out of the Rothschild Bank building, the streets were already crowded with onlookers.
These commuters usually walked past quickly with their heads down, but now their eyes burned with long-suppressed anger. Someone threw a coin first, hitting Lionel’s forehead hard.
"Vampire!"
"Monster sucking our blood and sweat!"
"Go to hell!"
Insults and debris rained down.
Lionel curled up, weakened by the silver shackles. His hand-crafted suit worth ten thousand Western Yuan was torn apart, carefully groomed golden hair covered in filth.
In this moment, he truly felt fear—not from the military, but from these ordinary people he once regarded as ants.
The armored vehicle slowly drove away from Golden Bull Street, and through the iron window, Lionel saw the giant Golden Bull statue atop the Golden Council Headquarters Building crumbling.
For over a century, the Golden Bull was a symbol of the Western Pole Kingdom’s financial hegemony, and now it smashed the plaque below reading "Wealth Eternal," raising a cloud of golden dust.
Lionel Rothschild huddled in the iron cage of the armored vehicle; the silver shackles on his wrists constantly burned his skin, emitting a faint "sizzling" sound.
Outside the car window, the scenery of New York Commandery sped past, and over Golden Bull Street, a sword light like a white rainbow crossing the sun grew ever closer.
"No... this is impossible..."
Lionel murmured, his dark red pupils contracting violently.
He could feel, as that sword light approached, the power of the bloodline inherited from Cain was rapidly dissipating, evaporating like dew under sunlight.
The armored vehicle suddenly braked hard, causing Lionel to smash into the railing ahead clumsily. The door was violently pulled open, and the blinding sunlight made him instinctively curl up—for the first time in three hundred years, he felt the burning pain of the sun.
"Get out, vampire."
Two fully armed Eagle’s Nest soldiers grabbed him by the arms, dragging him to the roadside like a dead dog.
Lionel squinted, finally seeing the surrounding scenery clearly—this was already the outskirts of a military base in New York Commandery, dozens of armored vehicles formed a circle, with hundreds of Golden Family members wearing silver shackles kneeling in the empty space in the middle.
Among them was the Rockefeller Family Head controlling the energy lifeline, the Morgan Clan Leader manipulating the military-industrial complex—each was once a master capable of summoning wind and rain in the Western Pole Kingdom.
And right in front of them, General Maxim was watching the live broadcast on a big screen—the sword light crossing the sky was already suspended above the Golden Bull Mansion.
"You will regret this..."
Old Rockefeller struggled to lift his head, although the burning of silver twisted his face, he still maintained the last bit of arrogance: "Without us... the Western Pole Kingdom’s economy will collapse... currency will become worthless..."
General Maxim let out a cold laugh, signaling the guards to increase the volume.
A thunderous noise came from the screen—the bulletproof glass on the top floor of Golden Bull Mansion shattered simultaneously, and a white figure walked in on the sword.
Ye Qingzhou’s toe lightly touched the marble floor inlaid with gold threads, and the Infinite Sword automatically returned to its sheath, hovering beside him. This circular hall known as the "Sanctuary" by the Golden Twelve Families was resplendent in gold and jade, the surrounding walls were made of solid gold with twelve zodiac reliefs representing the twelve families.
In the center of the floor was a huge world map inlaid with various precious gems, marking every node of the Golden Council’s global financial network.
On twelve pure gold seats sat the oldest patriarchs of the twelve families. Each had lived for at least five hundred years, their skin pale to the point of transparency, eyes flickering with dark red flames. As Ye Qingzhou stepped in, the twelve patriarchs stood simultaneously, ancient blood energy surging within the hall.
"Swordsman from the Dongji Kingdom!"
The voice of the Rothschild Ancestor sitting on the dragon chair was hoarse, "This is the Financial Holy Land, not a place for you to run wild!"
Ye Qingzhou’s gaze swept over these vampires, and wherever his sight fell, the Blood Race patriarchs involuntarily retreated half a step. They could feel, within this seemingly ordinary Eastern man, a power enough to destroy them.
"Financial Holy Land?"
Ye Qingzhou softly repeated, a mocking smile appeared at the corner of his mouth: "Using Bloodsucking Curse to bind a nation’s economy, does that count as finance?"
He lightly tapped his right foot, shattering the gemstone map.
The truth hidden underneath was exposed—it was a complex array made of blood threads, with each thread connected to an economic lifeline of the Western Pole Kingdom.
At the center of the array, twelve crystal bottles contained a thick, dark red liquid; it was the "Blood of Loyalty" forced from successive Western Pole Kingdom Presidents.
"Do it!" The Morgan Clan Leader roared.
All twelve patriarchs simultaneously slit their wrists, black blood oozed into the ground array.
The entire Golden Sanctuary was instantly enveloped in blood-red, those blood threads squirmed like living creatures, converging into a giant blood sphere suspended in the center of the hall.
Numerous human faces appeared on the surface of the blood sphere, all ordinary people drained by the Golden Family over the past three hundred years.
"In the name of the millennial blood contract!"
"With trillions in wealth as a sacrifice!"
"Summon the Golden Blood Shield!"
The blood sphere violently transformed into a massive shield engraved with financial symbols.
This was not an ordinary defense, but a curse shield fused with the power of the entire Western Pole Kingdom’s financial system—attacking it was the equivalent of attacking the Western Pole Kingdom’s economy itself, which would trigger a chain reaction of collapse.