Picture three: A private beach in a diterranean coastal city. Several young n and won in swimsuits are frolicking, among them his eldest grandson and eldest grandchild, their playful figures zood in and enlarged. And in the shadows of the palm trees at the edge of the fra, a well-hidden cara is pointed at them.
Picture four: There's even one of Du Er's sister, who holds an executive position at a Swiss Bank and had long since distanced herself from the dostic political whirlpool. She is seen exiting a high-end restaurant in Zurich, and across the street, there seems to be a lens glare flashing from the window of an inconspicuous black sedan.
...
The images continue to switch, covering almost all of the core mbers and important branches of the Du Er family, with locations spread both dostically and internationally.
Every image conveys the sa cold ssage: every move they make is under strict, real-ti surveillance, their lives and deaths are at the whim of Song Heping.
"How did you do this..."
The blood drained from Du Er's face in an instant, even his lips turned an ashen gray.
He sprang from his chair, hands supporting the table, body leaning forward, eyes fixedly staring at the small screen.
He recognized his son, grandson, nephew...
And his sister, far away in Switzerland!
The glaring red dots on the screen burned into his retina like a hot branding iron, scorching his nerves.
"You… you…"
Du Er's voice shattered imdiately, like a desperate soul plumting into an abyss.
He extended a trembling finger, pointing at Song Heping, his knuckle turning white from exertion.
"You dare… use my family… to threaten ?!"
Song Heping slowly retracted his phone, the screen darkened, the cold light fading from his face, but his gaze was more piercing than the light of the screen.
"It's not a threat, Mr. President, I'm stating a fact."
Song Heping's tone bore no fluctuations, as if he were discussing the weather.
"This is insurance. To ensure you will calmly listen to my terms and make a wise decision. Did you just ntion 'punching a sieve'? If you or your loyal Guard make any unfriendly moves towards ..."
His gaze swept across Du Er's face of utter horror.
"Then the entire family of yours will accompany you to the grave. From your great-grandson in swaddling clothes, to your sister enjoying her twilight years in Switzerland. My n will ensure they… go without pain, but very thoroughly. Would you like to try, Du Er?"
Du Er's body shook violently, as if struck by an invisible heavy hamr.
He staggered back a step, then heavily slumped back into the wide leather chair.
The spine supporting his last hint of toughness seed to vanish instantly.
He collapsed like a punctured balloon, imnse fear and despair engulfing him like a frigid tide.
He looked at Song Heping, the man standing before the desk that symbolized his power, holding control over the lives of all his bloodline, and for the first ti felt a bone-chilling, unstoppable powerlessness.
Family...
It was one of the ultimate goals for his lifelong pursuit of power, sothing he truly cared about in this world.
And now, those he cherished had beco at on the chopping block for the other side.
What armored brigade, what throne of power, all beca pale and weak, even laughable, in the face of the ultimate terror of a broken lineage.
Du Er stared intently at the photographs, his eyes seed about to protrude from their sockets.
Suddenly, he snatched the phone with a trembling hand, pulling it close to scrutinize.
A sudden, beast-like wounded howl broke out from him!
"Fake! It's all fake!"
Du Er sharply raised his head, bloodshot eyes burning with a last madness and gambler's desperation.
The desire for power ultimately suppressed reason.
"Song Heping! Do you think a composite photo can fool ? Lumar won't fail! My six armored brigades are invincible! You filthy hyenas only deserve to be crushed!"
He tossed the phone back onto the desk, as if grasping the last straw.
"I won't fail! I still have a chance! You have no leverage to demand my unconditional resignation!"
Song Heping stood right across from Du Er, separated by a wide office desk.
The mixture of battlefield smoke and sweat clinging to him sharply contrasted with the lingering cologne scent in the office.
He expressionlessly watched the last vestiges of color fade from Du Er's face, observed the once omnipotent eyes now filled only with the splintered void and incredulous dread after a heavy blow.
"Du Er."
Song Heping's voice was steady as a frozen lake, devoid of any victor's arrogance, but infused with a frigid, indisputable finality. "The terms in the loudspeaker are my bottom line. Sign the paper, relinquish power, and your personal safety and current assets will be safeguarded. I will arrange a private plane to take you and your family to Switzerland, or any destination of your choosing, to enjoy a quiet wealthy life. The Isis family won't touch a hair on your head, I promise."
He leaned slightly forward, his gaze sharp as a blade, "This is your only chance to exit with dignity."
Du Er's fingers twitched spasmodically, gripping tightly the smooth edge of the mahogany table, body instinctively leaning forward.
He abruptly raised his head, eyes those embers rekindled with a fire akin to a desperate gambler.
"Dignity?"
His voice was hoarse, carrying the roar of a beast driven to despair, "Song Heping! You underestimate , Du Er, too much! Do you think surrounding this house ans you've won?"
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