Divorced by the Mafia Queen: My Death System Awakens

Chapter 10: The Billion-Dollar Bounty and the Meat Grinder

Deep within the snow-capped mountains of Geneva, Switzerland, the Inner Sanctum of the Blackwood Commission was suffocatingly silent.

Seated around a massive, circular table carved from a single piece of polished obsidian were the twelve High Lords of the global underworld. At the head of the table sat the Archduke, an ancient, terrifying figure who had manipulated global economies from the shadows for half a century.

Lord Victor knelt on the cold marble floor before them, trembling violently. He had delivered Ren's message.

"He sent you back with the heads of our elite Cerberus snipers," the Archduke's voice rasped, echoing through the chamber like dry bones grinding together. "And he promised to burn our empire to the ground. A local street rat, empowered by some unknown cybernetic tech, dares to challenge the Commission."

"He is not a street rat, Your Grace!" Victor pleaded, sweating profusely, his aristocratic pride completely shattered. "His technology... it is precognitive. He knew everything before it happened. He is a monster!"

The Archduke’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure malice. "There are no monsters in this world, Victor. Only targets with a price tag."

The Archduke pressed his heavy gold signet ring against a biometric scanner on the table. A glowing holographic globe illuminated the darkened room.

"Issue an Alpha-Level Global Bounty," the Archduke commanded coldly. "Target: Ren of the Vanguard Spire. Reward: One Billion Dollars in untraceable cryptocurrency, and a permanent seat in the Commission's outer circle. Let the world tear him apart."

Within sixty seconds, the dark web exploded. Every elite freelance assassin, every cartel hit-squad, and every rogue mercenary company on the planet received the encrypted ping. The global underworld went into an absolute frenzy. Flights to Ren’s city were booked out within minutes. The hunt was on.

Twenty-four hours later, the monolithic Vanguard Spire stood quietly in the center of the rain-slicked metropolis.

Inside the penthouse command center, the massive holographic screens were completely bathed in a terrifying, blood-red code. The Death-Prediction System was processing millions of data points simultaneously, tracking the massive influx of global predators infiltrating the city limits.

Dante stood beside Ren, looking at the tactical map with a grim, bloodthirsty smile.

"My Lord," Dante reported. "We have seventy-two confirmed Tier-One strike teams within a three-mile radius. The 'Ghost of Kiev', the 'Tokyo Shinobi' clan, and the 'Desert Viper' cartel battalion are all mobilizing toward the Spire as we speak."

Ren sat comfortably in his obsidian chair, sipping a cup of perfectly brewed black tea. The glowing blue numbers of the Death-Prediction System scrolled effortlessly across his retinas, perfectly mapping out the demise of every single intruder before they even drew their weapons.

"Seventy-two teams," Ren murmured softly, his tone completely flat. "How disappointing. I expected more."

Ren placed his teacup down and casually tapped the master console. "Initiate the Meat Grinder Protocol. Do not let a single one of them leave this city alive."

Outside, the absolute slaughter began.

The 'Tokyo Shinobi' clan, a team of twelve cybernetically enhanced assassins, attempted to scale the eastern glass wall of the Spire using state-of-the-art optical camouflage. But Ren’s system had already predicted their exact ascension route three hours ago. Before they even reached the twentieth floor, the Spire’s automated defense grid seamlessly electrified that specific grid of smart-glass with fifty thousand volts. The stealth tech short-circuited instantly, and the twelve assassins were fried alive, peeling off the glass and falling into the rainy streets below like scorched insects.

The 'Desert Viper' squad tried to breach the underground parking garage with heavily armored SUVs and military-grade explosives. Dante didn't even need to deploy his men. Ren’s system simply hacked the city’s automated traffic and blast-door controls, slamming the reinforced concrete gates shut to trap the SUVs inside the tunnel, before remotely detonating the squad's own C4 charges in their trunks. The underground tunnel became an instant, inescapable oven.

But the 'Ghost of Kiev' was different. He was ranked the third most lethal solitary assassin in the world.

Bypassing all external sensors, the Ghost had silently infiltrated the Spire’s ventilation shafts, navigating completely blind to avoid thermal and laser detection. He finally dropped silently from the ceiling directly into Ren's darkened penthouse.

The Ghost raised a suppressed, hyper-velocity rail-pistol, aiming it perfectly at the back of Ren’s head as he sat peacefully in his chair.

"One billion dollars," the Ghost whispered in Russian, his finger tightening on the hair-trigger.

"Check your weapon," Ren replied in flawless, unaccented Russian, not even bothering to turn around.

The Ghost frowned. He squeezed the trigger.

Click.

The gun didn't fire. The Ghost frantically checked the digital display on his rail-pistol. The screen was black. The weapon was completely dead.

[Target: Ghost of Kiev. Threat Level: Neutralized.]

[System Action: EMP micro-burst emitted in a 3-meter radius around the Host. All hostile electronics fried.]

Before the Ghost could draw his backup titanium combat knife, a massive hand wrapped around his throat from the shadows. Dante lifted the legendary assassin off the floor as easily as a child's toy, crushing his windpipe just enough to prevent him from screaming, but keeping him biologically alive.

Ren finally turned his chair around, looking at the gasping, terrified assassin with absolute apathy.

"You came for a billion dollars," Ren said calmly. "But you only brought me information."

Ren stepped forward, placing his bare hand directly onto the Ghost's forehead. The Death-Prediction System aggressively interfaced with the assassin's neural-implant, violently bypassing his mental firewalls and ripping the encrypted data directly from his mind. The Ghost's eyes rolled back in sheer, unadulterated agony.

The holographic screen in the room flashed, displaying a heavily guarded, ancient chateau on the outskirts of Paris.

"The Archduke is hosting the annual Blackwood Summit in Paris in three days," Ren read the extracted data smoothly, a chilling, dangerous smile finally forming on his lips. "All twelve High Lords will be in one room."

Ren nodded to Dante. A sickening snap echoed through the penthouse as Dante casually broke the Ghost's neck, dropping the lifeless body to the floor.

"Clean the city, Dante," Ren commanded, walking toward his private elevator. "And prep the Vanguard stealth jet. The Commission wants to spend a billion dollars on my head. I think it is time I collected the debt in person."