CHAPTER 99: CHAPTER 100: FAULT LINES AND FIRST STRIKES

The early morning sun bled gold over the skyline as Lin Feng stood in front of the expansive glass windows of his temporary HQ on the 32nd floor of a recently leased commercial tower in Lujiazui. He sipped a freshly brewed black coffee—no milk, no sugar—as he reviewed the last of the digital files on the sleek tablet in his hand.

"Zhang Yating’s inner circle is compromised. Zhao Ling’s legal team received pressure from an external law firm connected to Spectron’s dummy affiliate. And the investment project in the Nanjing corridor—sabotaged via manipulated zoning documents. Subtle, but clear."

He didn’t look at Chen Yiran, but she understood his tone well enough. She had been up all night compiling the threads. Behind them, holographic projections flickered, each representing nodes in Zixuan’s network—shadow investors, political liaisons, false shell firms, and social media influencers posing as neutral voices.

"All within the last 72 hours," she said, voice tight.

"And still no direct move from Zixuan himself," Lin Feng murmured. "He’s waiting. Measuring our reaction."

"He won’t wait much longer."

"No," Lin Feng agreed. "That’s why we won’t either."

He tapped the edge of the tablet. A secure file decrypted and displayed a list of accounts, media handles, and shell corporations.

"It’s time for the first strike."

---

By mid-afternoon, Lin Feng had divided his operations into four clear tasks, each managed by a key member of his growing network. And for the first time since the incident with Guo Yuwei, he activated dormant elements of his system’s database—an encrypted trove of interaction records from female leads whose favorability had reached above 60%.

He’d already received skill rewards and partial cash returns from most of them. But now, those relationships would serve another function—trust-based leverage.

Target One: Media Perception Control

Li Qingzhao, the fast-rising entertainment manager and occasional talk show guest, met Lin Feng in a private room at the back of a boutique café in Xintiandi. She arrived with her assistant and a camera operator.

"You want to drag Spectron’s lobbying efforts into the public spotlight using social commentary?" she asked, skeptical but intrigued.

"I want to ask questions the media hasn’t dared ask. Your commentary has always tiptoed around industry influence. I’m giving you legal backup and exclusive access to internal audits Spectron doesn’t want leaked."

"You’re playing with fire, Lin Feng."

He leaned closer. "Then let’s make sure the flame’s pointed the right way."

Li Qingzhao didn’t flinch. A notification pinged on her phone—the exclusive documents already sent.

"You’ll get your views," she said. "But I want indemnity. And control over edit cuts."

"You’ll have both."

---

Target Two: Legal Disruption

Zhao Ling, after briefly vanishing from the scene following Spectron’s aggressive litigation threat, met Lin Feng that evening at an underground conference room in a shared legal hub. The tone was sharper.

"They’re trying to trap me in bad-faith negotiation," she said flatly. "Deliberately baiting us into defamation. But I’ve found the leak. It’s a junior partner on my side, paid off by their counterpart."

"Fire them. And let’s move early," Lin Feng said. "I want a preemptive suit. Based not on current attacks but Spectron’s undeclared lobbying efforts over tech investment bills from last quarter."

Zhao Ling raised her brows. "That’s dangerous. It means stepping into federal interest territory."

"We’ll force the regulators to choose a side," Lin Feng said. "And I already have a whistleblower witness."

She paused, then nodded slowly. "I’ll draft the filings tonight."

---

Target Three: Digital Influence

The third meeting took place virtually. Tang Ru, a cybersecurity analyst with past ties to Lin Feng and an affection rating teetering between 65–70%, had agreed to audit online chatter concerning Lin Feng’s network.

"What I found isn’t just bot activity," she said, sitting cross-legged in her room, camera panning slowly. "It’s directional AI—language models shaping public sentiment in real-time."

"Owned by?"

"Hard to trace, but one of the subnetworks links back to a dormant node—something called ’ArkCollab’. A Spectron acquisition. Closed in 2023."

"Can you hijack it?"

"Temporarily. But it’ll burn the connection."

"Do it. I need it to spike at 9:15 tomorrow morning. Push out coordinated truths: Spectron’s interference in business regulation, indirect coercion of young entrepreneurs, and manipulated PR behind their ’Green Fund’ narrative."

Tang Ru smirked. "All timed. I’ll send a shadow node through your comms platform for scheduling. Don’t forget—this favors you because I like you."

"I know," Lin Feng said. "I won’t waste it."

---

Target Four: Financial Counterweight

Night had fallen by the time Lin Feng returned to his condo suite, where Su Ruyan waited—having flown in directly from a wellness retreat she had agreed to attend only to throw off public suspicion of their connection. Her favorability had reached 85% last month, and she had received a system-generated passive skill: "Negotiator’s Edge".

"Lin Feng," she said, standing beside the bar. "The Lu Alliance wants to back out of the co-venture unless they see a solid counterbalance to Spectron’s grip."

"Then we’ll show them."

He placed a file before her. "This is a pre-approved line of capital flow from our ’Apex Circle’ project—redirected through my system’s funds into convertible bonds. I want you to buy 3% of the Lu Alliance’s debt pool. Quietly."

She read through the numbers, eyes narrowing. "You’re propping them up so they don’t feel the pressure to sell."

"No. I’m stabilizing them long enough for them to remember why they allied with us in the first place."

She reached across the bar and clinked his glass. "You’re changing, Lin Feng."

"No," he said softly. "I’m just removing the masks."

---

By midnight, the city slept restlessly.

But Lin Feng didn’t.

He stood again by the window, watching flickers of red and blue light ripple across the skyline. Behind him, updates streamed across his dashboard—legal filings uploaded, media narratives reshaped, influence nodes redirected, and market positions quietly fortified.

He had struck first.

But this was no victory. This was a warning shot.

Zixuan would retaliate.

The real war—the one with lasting scars and shaken alliances—was still to come.

And Lin Feng knew the next phase wouldn’t be fought in boardrooms or newsfeeds alone.

It would be fought in hearts, whispers, reputations—and among the women whose affection had bought him power, but whose trust would be harder to keep.