Chapter 114: Double Siege
Switzerland, Lake Geneva.
Emil Rockefeller pushed open the heavy oak door of the secret room in his private estate, and the candlelight inside flickered.
Several elders from the Berg family's side branches stood up immediately, but were immediately pushed back to their seats by the guards behind them.
Emil walked in calmly and gracefully raised his hand, "Gentlemen, relax. I just want to discuss cooperation with you today." His eyes swept over the few people who were pushed back to their seats, and a faint smile curled the corners of his lips. "After all, if I really wanted to take action, you wouldn't be able to walk through this door."
The eldest, Carl Berg, sneered, the cigar ash rustling between his fingers. "Is this little Rockefeller kid really qualified to discuss cooperation with Berg?"
"Uncle Karl," Emil walked to the main console and tapped his finger on the screen, "You might want to take a look at this first."
The big screen suddenly lit up, showing in sequence: the paternity test report between Victor and Mr. Berg showing "biological parent-child relationship is excluded", the identity file of Victor's biological father in northern Myanmar, and the DNA forgery instructions signed by Mr. Berg before his death.
Karl's face turned pale in an instant, and several other elders from the collateral branch gasped in unison.
"There's something even more exciting," Emil's voice sounded again, pulling up a coded medical record. "This is an analysis of the drug components injected into Mr. Berg half an hour before his 'sudden heart attack death.'"
He paused for a moment, his eyes slowly sweeping over the elders sitting at the long table whose expressions changed drastically.
"He killed old Berg with a nerve agent, and he ambushed and killed the legitimate heir, Ferdinand, in Yemen. Afterward, a series of 'accidents' eliminated all heirs and opponents..."
"Ridiculous!" Carl stood up suddenly, but was held down again by the guards. "How dare you forge these things?!"
Emil smiled lightly, but his eyes were cold: "When Victor cleans up the house... there will always be someone who will hold back." He raised his hand to signal, and the guards immediately brought in a middle-aged man with a panicked expression. This man was none other than the elder of the Berg family who was secretly instigated by Emil and who held countless evidences of Victor's crimes.
"You all probably know Mr. Hans, Victor's most trusted personal lawyer, and the one who handled the tragic 'accidents' that plunged the Berg family into grief."
Hans fell to his knees with a thud, his voice hoarse. "It was all Victor who forced me to do this! He killed Master Ferdinand and caused the explosion in Yemen! And then there was Mr. Joseph's skiing accident in Switzerland, Ms. Anna's yacht fire... the 'accidental train derailment' on the London Underground, the 'random robbery and murder' in New York's Central Park... they were all murders meticulously planned by Victor! He also threatened me that if I revealed even a word, he would sell my daughter to the red-light district in northern Myanmar..."
There was an uproar in the secret room, and suppressed gasps and angry whispers intertwined in the dimness.
“That bastard Victor! He actually deceived the entire family for twenty-eight years…” Carl’s face turned pale, and the cigar in his hand suddenly broke: “I’ve always felt that there was something wrong with his mixed-race appearance!”
"He killed Ferdinand... and lied to us that he was recuperating!"
"What a beast! He's using our money to support his Burmese private soldiers!"
"Make your choice, everyone." Emile slowly walked around to the main seat, his young face looking even more stern in the dim light.
"Should I continue to be Victor's lamb to be slaughtered, and watch helplessly as Berg becomes the new owner..." His voice was calm, each word sharp as a knife. "Or should I accept Rockefeller's all-round support, including military, political, financial, and public opinion, and support Uncle Karl to become the new head of the family and regain power?"
Amid the crackling candlelight, several old hands finally overlapped.
Eight thousand kilometers away at the Naga headquarters in northern Myanmar, Victor was irritably crossing out the third European alert.
Bank account frozen? Laboratory supply cut? His mouth tightened, and a sinister glint flashed in his eyes. This time, he had underestimated Rockefeller Jr.
The confidant behind him reported cautiously: "The Rockefeller family seems to be in contact with the Berg branch..."
"Does Little Rockefeller really think he can shake me by turning those old dogs against me?" Victor scoffed, full of disdain, like a lion looking down on its prey. "When we get back to Europe, I'll teach him a lesson about the true power game."
The confidant hesitated to speak: "But in Europe, it is true..."
"It's just a dying trick of that brat." He waved his hand nonchalantly. Compared with the disturbances in Europe that he was confident he could easily put an end to, he cared more about Southeast Asia.
Victor's gaze returned to the screen, which was displaying the "latest developments" of the Mohist internal struggle.
The internal conflict between Savika and Atai has reached a fever pitch. Last night, the two sides exchanged fire again at the Mekong River docks, sinking three cargo ships. The casualty toll is increasing daily, and Mohist cadres are splitting into two factions, each sparring with the other.
"Mo Xiaohan must be in a state of panic right now, right?" Victor chuckled smugly to his confidant, "Guarding over a half-dead woman, watching his most capable subordinates kill each other, and the empire he built crumbling from within..."
He looked towards Bangkok, greed swirling in his grey-blue eyes. "Once I annex the Mohist School, all of Southeast Asia will bow down before me!"
"Send another envoy to contact Savica!" He ordered his confidant with determination. "Promise him that if he 'cooperates', after the success, you will give him an arms line directly to Europe, plus 100 million US dollars!"
He was completely immersed in his fantasy of annexing Southeast Asia, completely unaware that the seemingly docile branches of the Berg family had united under the Emir's support and quietly raised the banner of rebellion. The Emir was severing his escape routes in Europe one by one, and Mo Xiaohan was using them to tighten the web of death for him step by step.
Those spies he had placed in Europe and the elders who seemed to still be loyal to him had been secretly turned against him one by one and became the sharp knives in his back.
Even the Mo family's "civil strife" in Bangkok, which he trusted the most and regarded as a key breakthrough, was just another deadly scam carefully designed for him by Mo Xiaohan.
Savika, the man he had tried so hard to win over, was now lazily lying on his bed in the Mo Family Manor bedroom. Su Lixia was bandaging his arm, which had been wounded by a stray bullet during the "internal strife" that morning.
As the iodine rubbed across the wound, he deliberately hissed, "Be gentle... How can I make you feel comfortable if it hurts?"
"You deserve it." Her eyes were red, but her movements could not help but slow down. "You have to perform with real swords and guns..."
"If you don't act realistically, how can you trick a poisonous snake out of its hole?" Savika chuckled, suddenly reaching out and pulling her into her arms. "Acting is exhausting! My wife has to reward me well!"
"Stop it!" Su Lixia exclaimed softly, blushing as she pushed him away. "Will Victor really believe it?"
"He has to believe it." Savika lowered her head and kissed her collarbone, her voice filled with determined sarcasm. "After all, in his eyes... Mr. Mo is just a poor wretch who's gone crazy while watching his sickly wife."
His arms tightened, and with a swift turn, he pressed Su Lixia under him. "Once this is over, we'll go back to Yangon to have a beautiful wedding and have children." He tore away the last obstacle in her way, his hot breath brushing against her ear. "Now... let's rehearse..."
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