The Aftermath Report and Surging Undercurrents

Eagle Creek Ranch, lakeside villas. Early morning.

A thin, veil-like mist shrouded the lake, flowing and shifting slowly in the golden light of the rising sun. The distant Cascade Range appeared and disappeared in the mist, displaying a tranquil and solemn grey-blue hue. The air was crisp, carrying the unique slightly fishy smell of the lake water and the fragrance of pine needles. Occasionally, waterbirds skimmed across the lake, emitting clear, melodious calls.

On the lakeside terrace of the villa, Lin Feng, dressed in a simple gray cashmere cardigan and dark trousers, sat in a wicker armchair. A cup of steaming tea sat on the small round table before him. He held a copy of the Seattle Times, delivered that morning, his gaze calmly sweeping over the business and local news sections, occasionally taking a sip of tea. The morning light shone on his sharply defined profile, his expression serene, blending seamlessly with the tranquil lakeside scenery, as if all the bloodshed and chaos that had unfolded in Seattle the previous night had nothing to do with him.

K appeared silently at the terrace entrance, still wearing his neatly pressed dark suit, his expression solemn. He walked to Lin Feng's side and bowed slightly.

"Boss."

Lin Feng put down the newspaper, turned his gaze to K, nodded, and gestured for him to speak.

"Zhao Zhiyong has been rescued." K's voice was calm and low, revealing little emotion. "He's currently being cared for at a private clinic we control in the south of the city. The doctor has done a preliminary examination; his injuries are severe, but his vital signs have stabilized."

He paused, then added the most crucial details, "A penetrating shoulder wound, excessive blood loss, multiple soft tissue contusions and fractures, especially the right thumb... a comminuted fracture, and severe tendon damage. The head injury caused a moderate concussion and a skull fracture, but it didn't compress any critical areas. The most troublesome aspect is the psychological trauma from prolonged mental and physical torture, as well as some..." He carefully chose his words, "... the aftereffects of non-standard interrogation methods. It will take time to recover, especially the function of the fingers, which may not fully recover."

Lin Feng listened quietly, his expression unchanged. He simply picked up his teacup and took another sip. In the morning light, his deep black eyes reflected a calm lake surface, without the slightest ripple.

"As long as he's alive, that's enough." Lin Feng put down his teacup, his voice calm. "His finger is injured; he won't need to do fine work anymore. As for his psychological issues, find the best specialists and use the best medicine. Spare no expense to help him recover. He bought us time, and he paid the price."

"Yes," K replied, keeping Lin Feng's instructions in mind. He knew how the boss treated "his own people," especially "die-hards" like Zhao Zhiyong who had proven their worth.

"And... what about the others?" K asked cryptically, referring to the IRS agents involved last night, especially Tony and Karl, as well as Cohen, who was hiding behind the scenes, and Daniel Crawford, who might be connected to the matter.

Lin Feng turned his gaze back to the misty lake, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest of the wicker chair, as if he were pondering, or as if he had already reached a conclusion.

"Cohen and Daniel," he began slowly, his tone still calm but carrying an undeniable decisiveness, "These two are prominent figures in this area, not nobodys. Don't make a big fuss, clean up the mess, make it look like... an 'accident'."

He emphasized the word "unexpected," his voice soft yet carrying immense weight.

K immediately understood. The boss meant that these two influential figures, potentially connected by a network of relationships, couldn't be dealt with in the same direct, violent, and easily traceable way as the two IRS agents (Tony and Karl). They needed more sophisticated, covert, and "legal" methods to make them disappear "naturally" or cease to be a threat. This required more meticulous planning and more professional execution.

"Understood." K nodded, already considering feasible plans in his mind. Creating "accidents" was one of the compulsory courses for Golden Sun intelligence agents, and there were mature routines and resources to utilize.

"As for those two agents," Lin Feng picked up his teacup, his gaze becoming somewhat profound as he peered through the rising steam, "They were the ones who directly carried out the attack. Since they dared to touch my people, they should be prepared to bear the consequences. Where are they now? How are they?"

K hesitated for a moment, seemingly considering how to phrase it, but ultimately chose the most direct report, "As per your instructions, the operation was handled... The process... went as expected, leaving no traceable physical evidence. The teams involved in the operation have, as planned, withdrawn from Washington State in batches and completely, and entered a period of silence."

He omitted the specific location and method of the operation, but the points that it "met expectations" and "left no traceable physical evidence" already demonstrated the "cleanliness" and "thoroughness" of the operation. As for what Tony and Karl experienced, K did not elaborate, and Lin Feng did not ask further. Some things, knowing the outcome is enough.

Lin Feng nodded, neither confirming nor denying the result. He put down his teacup, picked up his phone from the table, unlocked the screen, swiped through his contacts a few times, found a contact named "Mike A," and dialed the number.

The phone rang a few times before being answered.

"Hey! Lin! My dear friend! So early, is there some good news to share?" Mike Anderson's signature, enthusiastic, and seemingly ever-energetic voice immediately came through the receiver. In the background, you could faintly hear the sound of a coffee machine running and soft music. He sounded like he was in a very good mood and was probably enjoying a leisurely breakfast.

"Good morning, Mike." Lin Feng's voice carried a perfectly timed, relaxed smile befitting a "partner," though his face remained expressionless. "Nothing special, just wanted to ask about my money... recently, is there any problem? You know, I'm new to the United States, and I'm not quite familiar with these investment processes and timelines yet."

"Haha! Lin, you can rest assured!" Mike's voice suddenly rose, filled with confidence and exaggerated excitement. "Not only is there no problem with your money, but the process has gone remarkably smoothly! Better than I could have imagined! I was just about to find an opportunity to give you a detailed report!"

He paused, as if suppressing excitement, then lowered his voice and said in a tone as if sharing a shocking secret:

"Guess what? In just these few days, thanks to our accurate judgment and some... well, positive 'internal' developments, the project you invested in has already increased in value by more than 10%! 10%, Lin! And in such a short time? This is simply a miraculous rate of return!"

He spoke eloquently, his tone full of enticement. "Moreover, according to our latest assessment and information obtained from our core channels, the potential of this project has not yet been fully realized! The real breakthrough is yet to come! Those few 'big friends' from the Middle East and Wall Street who have entered the market now are far more optimistic about the prospects than expected; they are considering additional investment to expand the overall scale of the project! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

Mike's voice trembled slightly with excitement, as if he had been overwhelmed by this huge "good news": "Lin, we're brothers, that's why I'm telling you this. If you're still interested, I can do some maneuvering and maybe secure an extra share for you! It's highly sought after, almost impossible, but for you, I'm willing to try! How about it? Interested in placing another bet? Let's work together to make this pie bigger and get a bigger slice!"

He painted a glittering, attainable picture of the future, his tone brimming with enticing promises like "I'm only telling this to my best friend," "Opportunities are fleeting," and "Let's get rich together."

With the phone pressed against his ear, Lin Feng's expression remained unchanged, still calm. Only a faint, almost imperceptible hint of mockery and coldness flickered in his deep black eyes, which were fixed on the lake.

Greedy yellow-skinned Monkey? Already plotting another trap, trying to squeeze out even more "profit"? It seems that the bait "printed" with a hundred million US dollars really does taste delicious, making this greedy hyena so excited that it's almost lost its head.

"Oh? It's appreciated in value again? And there are extra shares?" Lin Feng's voice revealed a hint of interest and surprise, but his tone remained that of a "super-rich" person—not overly eager. "It does sound... good."

He paused, as if considering it seriously, and then said:

"Okay, Mike, I'm not too familiar with the specific numbers and operational details. Could you prepare a more detailed assessment report and a new investment plan, and send it to K? I'll have him and his team take a look. If it's indeed as promising as you say... perhaps we can have a proper discussion."

He neither immediately agreed nor refused, giving a reasonable response befitting a "cautious investor." He gave Mike hope while maintaining distance and control.

"No problem! Absolutely no problem!" Mike patted his chest on the other end of the phone, his voice even more excited because Lin Feng hadn't directly refused. "I'll have my team prepare the most detailed and professional report right away! It'll definitely impress you and Mr. K! So... shall we keep in touch? How about we play some ball together sometime, or have a drink and talk in detail?"

"Okay, let's meet again sometime." Lin Feng ended the call calmly. "Keep in touch."

He hung up the phone and casually placed it back on the table. The faint, feigned "interest" on his face vanished instantly, replaced by his previous calm, even more indifferent expression.

He picked up the slightly cooled tea, took a sip, and turned his gaze back to the lake surface where the mist was gradually dissipating.

The rising sun had fully emerged above the distant mountains, its golden rays piercing the morning mist and scattering across the shimmering lake, creating countless golden sparkles. A new day, after the bloody night, unfolded peacefully, following its own inherent rhythm.

On the other side of the city, Mike Anderson put down the phone, his enthusiastic and sincere smile vanishing instantly, replaced by a complex expression that mixed contempt, smugness, and greed.

He walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window of his mansion, looked at the perfectly manicured lawn and the distant bay, and a cold, undisguised sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Hmph, greedy yellow-skinned Monkey." He muttered to himself, his tone utterly contemptuous. "You really think a free lunch? 10%? Ha! You'd believe me if I said 100%? A fool is a fool; no amount of money can change the stupidity and greed in his bones."

He could almost see Lin Feng's "foolish" and "greedy" face filled with a desire for more wealth, and then, under his influence, sending more and more "waste paper" marked with the "Golden Sun" logo into his carefully woven, doomed trap. And he would seize the large chunk that truly belonged to him, enough to keep him at large and ensure his lifelong wealth.

"However..." Mike stroked his chin, a shrewd calculation flashing in his eyes, "This guy agreed quite readily, seems to have taken the bait deeply. We need to add fuel to the fire, make the story even more believable, and make the 'insider information' even more 'enticing'... ideally, get him to shell out tens of millions more, or even... another hundred million?"

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, as if he could already see mountains of gold and silver beckoning to him. He turned and walked back to his luxurious study, preparing to immediately gather his "team members," who were equally skilled at acting, to begin meticulously crafting the next "top-secret investment report" that would make any "fat sheep"'s heart race.

The morning light streamed through the expensive glass windows, illuminating the undisguised greed and scheming on Mike's face, and also illuminating every carefully laid corner of lies within this illusory empire.

On the terrace of the lakeside villa, Lin Feng sat quietly, sipping tea and gazing at the lake. It was as if the phone call he had just received was merely an insignificant interlude in the morning.

K stood aside, waiting silently.

A breeze swept across the lake, bringing with it a moist scent and the faint, burgeoning noise of a distant city awakening.

Beneath the calm surface, Undercurrent never cease.