All Chapters of THE ULTIMATE TRILLIONAIRE BOSS : Chapter 331
- Chapter 340
357 chapters
THE CRIMSON GENERAL'S FIRST STRIKE
Only one vehicle still had the angle and the engine strength to try to go through the Herold military blockade.It was one of the front supply trucks. It was badly damaged, it's windshield was cracked, it's hood was buckled, one headlight was gone. Two surviving soldiers threw themselves inside while gunfire hammered the rear panels.The passenger leaned out of the broken side window and fired toward the Herold line. “Drive through them!”The driver slammed the truck into gear. “If we stop, we die!”The truck roared forward.A Herold soldier stepped into its path and vanished under the bumper. Another was thrown off the hood. The truck clipped a blocking van, scraped hard against the rail, and kept going through smoke, sparks, and screaming metal.“Go! Go!”Bullets chased it down the bridge, but somehow the vehicle kept moving. It burst through the far mouth of Tetris Bridge, fishtailed onto the open road beyond, and disappeared.Back on the bridge, the rest was over.Twenty-five Tr
CUT THE LIFELINE
“Why do they favor this route?”The officer with the slate answered quickly this time. “One of their few reliable supply routes, sir. Mostly food runs. Fastest access into multiple sectors. Hard to replace if lost.”Varros stood still for one second longer than comfortable.Then he said, “Then the bridge has served its purpose.”The words settled over the officers like something irreversible. Not a decision to be debated, but one already completed in Varros’s mind. The bridge was no longer infrastructure. It was already a memory.The officers near him exchanged a quick look.One of them took a cautious step forward. “Sir, if we hold it, we could use it ourselves.”Varros turned to face him fully.The man instantly regretted speaking.He felt it immediately, the shift in the air around Varros. It was not anger. It was worse. It was the quiet certainty of a man who had already measured the cost of every life in front of him and found it acceptable.“You are thinking like a quartermaster
THE ROADS THAT WENT SILENT
Two weeks after Tetris Bridge was destroyed, the damage finally became impossible to deny.Inside the Tribunal regional logistics command in western Avalora, the operations room had stopped sounding like a place of control. It sounded like a place trying to keep panic in uniform. Officers stood around wall maps and supply charts with tired faces and sharper voices. Missing convoy reports had been pinned to a board so many times that the corners of the paper had begun to curl. Food movement lines that had once looked clean now ended in red marks, broken arrows, and blank spaces.A logistics captain pointed at a slate and said, “That route missed delivery again.”The colonel beside him did not look up from the map. “Not missed. It was lost.”“How many now?”The colonel exhaled through his nose. “Too many.”No one argued with that.At the center table, three officers leaned over the western map while signal operators worked the rear consoles. One of the younger men tried to sound cal
THE TOWN THAT BEGAN TO STARVE
Rathenfall no longer looked like a town waiting for rescue. It looked like a town learning how to disappear slowly.The market square had not closed by order. It had simply emptied itself into silence. Half the stalls stood open with nothing on them but dust, broken baskets, and scraps of cloth tied down against the wind. The few traders still present did not call out to customers anymore. There was nothing left to sell except bits of salt, old beans, and dried roots so small they looked insulting. People stood in lines that led nowhere, waiting not because food was coming, but because hunger made standing still feel more hopeful than walking away.The line barely moved.People shifted their weight slowly, conserving energy instead of impatience. A few clutched empty sacks or cracked bowls, as if holding them made the wait more real. No one argued anymore. Even desperation had begun to quiet itself into endurance.A woman with a child on her hip stared at an empty grain stand and s
ANY HOPE?
The medic did not look up from the woman whose pulse he was checking. “Seventeen by morning. Unfortunately we are expecting more tonight.”Veynor’s face tightened. “Seventeen?”The medic finally looked at him. “Do you want me to say it softer, sir?”That hit harder than insolence should have, but there was no insolence in the man’s voice. Only exhaustion.The medic’s hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the woman’s wrist. Not from fear, but from fatigue that had gone too far. He had likely repeated the same motion dozens of times that day, with each one ending the same way.Deeper inside, the smell changed. It was not only sickness. It was the smell of weak bodies breaking down in air that had not been properly cleaned because too many people were breathing in too little space. The air felt thick, almost heavy, as if it resisted movement. Even breathing required effort, and every breath carried the weight of sickness and neglect.Veynor passed a mother trying to lift a cup to her c
THE COMPROMISED SUPPLY
Hope entered Rathenfall hospital in the shape of two dirty vans.The sound of their engines had barely died when the entrance yard shifted all at once. People who had been too weak to lift their heads tried to rise. Nurses turned. Orderlies dropped empty trays. Even the soldiers at the door straightened as though food alone could restore discipline. Lieutenant General Alric Veynor stepped toward the entrance just as the van doors opened and men began hauling out sacks, tins, and boxed rations with the hurried movements of people who wanted to unload fast and leave faster.“Food is here!”“Make way!”“Step back!”One of the hospital guards raised both hands and shouted, “Slow down! Everyone step back! We need order or no one gets anything!”No one listened properly. Hunger had already outrun order.The sound of feet scraping against the floor grew louder as more bodies pushed forward to get some food. It was not aggression yet, but it was no longer patience either. The line between
THE ROT WITHIN
A nurse looked down at the food in her hands. “I don’t know, sir.”A man on the floor clutched a ration packet to his chest and croaked, “Don’t take it.”Another woman shouted through nausea, “No! Don’t stop!”Veynor grabbed one of the opened tins from the table and brought it near his face. The smell hit him a second later. Sour. Wrong. Slightly rotten beneath the seasoning.There was a faint metallic edge beneath it too, like something that had sat too long in heat and been sealed anyway. It was the kind of smell that tried to hide itself, but failed when you paid attention.His voice hardened immediately. “Stop handing it out!”The nearest soldier repeated the order. “Stop distribution!”That only made the crowd turn ugly.Faces changed. Not all at once, but enough. Fear sharpened into defiance. Weakness turned into something harder, something closer to anger.“No!”“Give it back!”“My child needs something to eat!”“It’s food! Let us eat!”A soldier tried to take a spoiled packet
JUDGEMENT FROM ABOVE
The sound above Rathenfall did not belong to weather.Lieutenant General Alric Veynor stood in the middle of the hospital hall with spoiled food under men’s boots, sick civilians on the floor, and shouting still bouncing off the walls. Yet the moment that low mechanical growl deepened overhead, everything else in his mind fell behind it. He knew engines. He knew altitude. He knew the difference between passing air cover and something slowing into intention.His head lifted first, then the heads of the soldiers nearest to him, then the nurses, then even some of the civilians who had been too weak to care about anything but the next bite.“What the hell is that sound?” Veynor asked.Nobody answered him in time.A few of the soldiers exchanged quick looks, not yet afraid, but no longer certain. One of them stepped toward the doorway as if he could see through walls. Another tightened his grip on his rifle, instinct rising before understanding. The sound above did not fade. It deepened.
THE DOCTRINE OF TERROR
Then came the second sound. Not impact. Not flame.A hissing spread through the broken air.Someone near the ward entrance shouted, “Gas!”Panic became immediate.A man by the doorway fell first, clutching at his throat. A woman who had been kneeling over a ration packet dropped it and began coughing so violently she folded over herself. The greenish haze rolled into the corridor low and smooth, not like smoke, but like something meant to crawl into lungs. It moved with terrible intelligence, filling the lowest spaces first and then rising where bodies disturbed it.“Get them out!” Veynor roared.A soldier grabbed the first child he could reach. “Move!”“Cover your mouths!” another shouted.But the warning came too late for many of them. One medic tried to speak and only produced a shredded cough. An elderly man on the floor clawed at his neck and rolled against the wall, his eyes were wide in terror. The mother who had been begging for food tried to stand with her child in her arm
THE BROADCAST OF FEAR
Three days after Rathenfall was poisoned, the western part of the capital still had not stopped trembling.Ethan stood in the Tribunal headquarters with Captain Lorne, General Uadson, and several signal officers gathered around the command table when the secured line finally connected again. The room had been carrying too much silence for days. Reports from Rathenfall, Corvane Hollow, Delsport, and Kravik End had come in broken pieces, each one worse than the last. When Ethan heard the line click, he lifted the receiver and said in a calm voice, “Hello.”On the other end, Lieutenant General Alric Veynor sounded like a man speaking through exhaustion and smoke. “Master Ethan, like I said before, Rathenfall is under—” The line crackled sharply. For 3 days now lieutenant general Alric Veynor I tried to convey the message of what was happening in Rathenfall to Ethan and the tribunal army hierarchy here in the headquarters but all his efforts were futile and today it looked like the sig