The moment the third step was launched, Yang Ying's intended message began to spread with astonishing speed, broadcast everywhere. Instantly, every core member of the Caesar family, along with dozens of high-level executives not of Caesar lineage, became public figures.

Countless people swarmed their residences, vacation spots, and workplaces, relentlessly pursuing and cornering them.

Kevin, with his superior information warfare capabilities, harnessed satellite systems orbiting Earth, the Moon, and Mars to ensure not a single one of them could evade surveillance.

Simultaneously, the over five hundred Ghost Agents, already dispersed across the globe, were gradually put into motion.

At the Caesar headquarters building in New York, Gaius was convening department heads to discuss urgent public relations matters when his desk communicator suddenly emitted a piercing shriek. His secretary's panicked voice cut through: "Chairman, something terrible has happened. Online, online..." "See for yourself."

A holographic screen flickered open, displaying rows of profile pictures. Beneath each photo was detailed information, including identity introductions and current locations.

Leading the list of photos and data was Gaius himself!

"How is this possible?!"

The assembled executives, upon realizing their own faces were on the screen, saw their complexions change instantly. A palpable atmosphere of panic began to permeate the conference room, prompting subtle movements to alleviate the tension.

Some shifted restlessly in their seats, darting glances around in search of confidence reflected in others' eyes. Some frowned deeply, engaging in hushed exchanges of opinion with those nearby. Others turned hopeful gazes toward their Chairman, seeking useful direction, as Gaius had long been known for his composure within the Caesar Group.

However, they found Gaius's expression to be ten times worse than theirs.

Gaius's face was frighteningly grim. The cold light emanating from his ice-blue pupils seemed capable of freezing an elephant solid. He forced a low growl from his throat.

"This is disastrous."

Having navigated his way to the pinnacle of the Caesar family leadership, he had weathered countless storms. Seeing the sheer detail of the exposed information, he immediately sensed an unimaginably large net closing over the Caesar family. Not even the nuclear obliteration of the Physics Research Center had given him such a feeling of impending doom.

The executives exchanged glances, never having witnessed Gaius lose control like this.

Gaius lost all pretense of calm. He slammed a hand on the table, stood up, and pointed at every executive present, roaring, "I don't care what methods you use—you must cut off this information immediately! Do not let it continue broadcasting!"

"Yes, sir!"

In the northern mountainous region of the Apennine Peninsula, before a stone castle dating back to the Middle Ages built halfway up the slope, hundreds of protestors held up various signs, chanting slogans, leveling the severest protests against the castle's owner, a member of the Caesar Group's board of directors.

Shadowy figures could vaguely be discerned in the castle windows—several impassive bodyguards, their cold gazes locked onto the crowd outside. These guards were all mercenaries affiliated with the Caesar Mercenary Corps.

At that moment, a tall, thin man stepped forward from the crowd, apparently their elected leader. He shouted toward the castle, "You, Caesar Group, must cease your inhumane human experimentation! This betrayal of humanity will not end well! You already possess such high status and command so many resources—what necessity drives you to commit such atrocities against humanity?! Have you no sense of right and wrong?"

High up in a tower within the castle, in an opulent room, an old man held a glass of red wine. He gently parted the heavy curtains and gazed down at the assembled crowd with disdain. Beside him stood an amplification system gathering the sounds from outside. Hearing the tall, thin man speak, the old man's look of contempt deepened.

"A flock of ignorant fools, incapable of understanding that everything we do is for the world's advancement and human evolution. Were it not for us, how would they possess the convenient and comfortable lives they have today? Were it not for us, how would they have such advanced and effective medicine? We chart the most suitable path for humanity; naturally, we are their benefactors. To treat us with such ingratitude is truly damnable."

The old man swirled his wine, took a sip, and wore an expression of strange enjoyment, as if savoring the blood of those ungrateful wretches.

"Uncle Bell, why trouble yourself over such insignificant ants? They can only resort to these useless displays to oppose us." A slender young man emerged from the shadows of the room, his face sharp, his eyes like a hunting falcon's.

He spoke with near-reverent intensity: "To achieve what ordinary men cannot, one must employ means unavailable to ordinary men. The progress of science has always trod a path slick with blood. The research into nuclear weapons provided the foundation for nuclear power generation; germ warfare accelerated advancements in immunology; even humanity's first venture into space was forged in conflict. We merely follow history's current, forging the future. For countless years, it is precisely because we have adhered to this principle that the Caesar family stands at humanity's apex."

The old man, Bell, burst into laughter. He poured a glass of red wine and handed it to the youth, praising him, "Truly worthy of being Gaius's most admired son; you see things with perfect clarity. This world is inherently one where the strong survive and the weak perish. Using the flesh of the weak to empower the strong is the truth this ruthless world has taught us. You are excellent, Ishta."

This sharp, vigorous young man, having already suffered the loss of two Crown Fleet planetary belts, now became even more severe, like an unforgiving beast.

He took the wine from Bell and clinked glasses. "I wonder who revealed the locations of both Uncle Bell and myself this time, attracting these objectors. I suspect some vile scheme is afoot."

Bell snorted coldly. "Mere rats from the gutter, not fit to be on the main stage. To think they can provoke the Caesar family with these petty backroom tricks. Heh. Once we find them, we will make them regret ever being born."

With that, uncle and nephew both laughed heartily.

Just then, a butler emerged from the castle, accompanied by several burly men. They approached the protestors and began what was ostensibly a negotiation with the tall, thin man.

It was more of a final ultimatum: "This castle is private property. If you continue to cause a disturbance here, we will not hesitate to use force to expel you."

The tall, thin man shouted back, "Call your master out here to speak with us! Call Bell out! Do you think sending a butler is enough to satisfy us?"

The butler instantly became enraged, shouting, "Is the master's name something you have the right to utter? What makes you think we have any obligation to satisfy you? If you continue this baseless obstruction..." He waved his hand, and several burly men behind him immediately drew Ur-Rifles and aimed them at the tall, thin man.

The butler sneered, "Continue this nonsense, and we won't be polite. The law grants us the authority to kill trespassers on private land."

This statement caused an uproar. One of the radicals roared in anger and suddenly produced a homemade incendiary bottle, lit it, and hurled it toward the castle.

It must be said that when some people become agitated, they forget everything, even their own safety.

As the Molotov cocktail spun and tumbled through the air, it captured everyone's attention, tracing a breathtaking arc as if perfectly calculated, heading straight for the butler's head.

The butler appeared stunned, frozen in place as if his feet were cast in lead.

A bodyguard behind him reacted instantly, grabbing the butler by the collar and yanking him backward. The butler tumbled backward, falling and rolling twice, but fortunately, he dodged the direct impact of the incendiary bottle.

The bottle struck the ground and exploded. The bodyguard who had saved the butler immediately leaped backward, narrowly avoiding the surge of flames.

It was like kicking a hornet's nest; the atmosphere instantly became volatile, and the protestors drew their Ur-Rifles, pointing them at the butler and the bodyguards.

No one knew who triggered it first, but in that instant, the gunfight began.

Beams of Ur-Rifle fire crisscrossed between the two sides. Within seconds, large numbers of people collapsed to the ground.

Bell and Ishta, drawn by the escalating violence, moved to the window to watch. They felt no concern about being hit, as the windows were fitted with bulletproof glass, including Ur-Ray shielding, providing ample defense against the Ur-Rifle fire.

"These rioters!" Bell ground out through clenched teeth. "They actually dared to lay hands on Caesar family personnel!"

Ishta shrugged. "Consider it watching a good show. This isn't Ancient Rome; spectacles like this aren't a daily occurrence." Clearly, he held no regard for the lives of the people fighting below, viewing both sides as slaves locked in an arena bout.

Bell felt as if he were seeing his nephew anew, chuckling softly. "Well said. I suppose I don't see things as clearly as you do."

As the words faded, a sharp bang echoed. Two holes instantly appeared in the bulletproof window.

The heads of both Bell and Ishta exploded simultaneously. The two core figures of the Caesar family, who had been holding court moments before, instantly became two headless corpses, slumping lifelessly to the floor.

On a distant mountain peak, two Ghost Agents retracted their sniper rifles and opened their communicators, reporting: "Mission complete. Targets Bell and Ishta eliminated."