On his phone reading: Over a hundred luxury cars, many of which have never even left the garage. Even with a conservative estimate, their combined value amounts to several million euros. Among them, several are limited editions—such as a Bugatti Veyron, with only 39 units produced worldwide. Beyond simply driving them, even storing them in a garage would make them symbols of status. After all, their owners are soon to pass away and will no longer be able to enjoy these vehicles. Left here to rust and eventually turn into scrap metal, isn't that a pity? Well, he reluctantly agreed, smiling. He walked around the parking lot, and as he passed each car, it gently flew into the Níjí (Ring). Should the Ring become full? No problem—our small Ding (Vessel) has ample space too. He would bring these cars back to China, letting his daughters choose freely. After all, beauty should always be matched with elegance. Within minutes, the parking lot was completely empty. The adjacent room also served as a warehouse, stocked with weapons and ammunition—items that Qin Daxiao simply didn't care for. Last time, when he dismantled Blood Shadow's base, he had secured a considerable amount of fresh, standard-issue military equipment, far superior to what was available here. Nevertheless, as a man who deeply valued peace, these weapons clearly posed a threat to global stability. Should they fall into the hands of criminals, that would indeed be a serious offense. Therefore, such an outcome was absolutely unacceptable. He promptly sourced several large time-delay bombs, strategically placing them at various locations, each capable of completely leveling the site. Before departing, he also removed a few additional bombs to ensure the warehouse would be fully eradicated, preventing any future claimants from establishing their own strongholds. Over the following period, he secured twenty-some bodyguards and launched at least six gas attacks into collective lounges. As for the number of people who would ultimately fall victim to the poison, he simply didn't bother counting. A thick steel wall appeared directly ahead, differing from other steel structures in that it showed almost no signs of rust. This indicated a key point: the steel wall had been constructed later, and within it must be something of great significance—since the garage and ammunition storage facilities had only added modest protective measures at the entrance. He circled the steel wall, estimating the interior space to be roughly one hundred square meters. On one side, a circular security door with a diameter exceeding two meters was installed, resembling the vault entrances of certain major banks, equipped with a 42-digit password lock. This type of lock uses a combination of 32 letters and digits from 0 to 9, offering over ten million possible combinations. Even the most advanced supercomputers would require several days to crack such a password. This further underscores the importance of what's inside. He reached out and tapped the steel wall—over one meter thick—and even the most advanced main battle tanks couldn't penetrate it with their armor-piercing rounds. His gaze settled on the concrete floor below, where digging through the wall would be nearly impossible, though digging into the ground was quite feasible. Under the power of his intent, the flying sword began to rotate, and within a short time, it drilled a circular hole about fifteen centimeters in diameter into the ground. Then it changed direction, shifting from vertical to horizontal, drilling for a while before reverting to vertical and ascending. When the sword finally broke through the ground, it took considerable time—since the floor was composed of a 30-centimeter-thick granite slab reinforced with a 10-centimeter-thick steel plate. Ultimately, he entered the small tripod, which in turn carried him into the chamber. As soon as he stepped out of the tripod, the bright golden light blinded him. Numerous rectangular golden bricks were arranged on the metal supports surrounding him. Each of these bricks is about twenty centimeters long, shaped like a trapezoid that is narrow at the top and wider at the bottom, with a maximum width of eight centimeters and a height of about six centimeters. He picked one up with his hand and estimated its weight to be around fifteen to twenty kilograms. "My goodness," he murmured, "that's why Yuri Skin, the second son, has been able to push his elder brother to the brink—there must be substantial financial backing behind this. I never thought that operating within a criminal organization could generate such a significant amount of wealth!" He had no idea that since his grandfather's generation, the Skin family had been building a network of criminal influence across Europe. His father, the second leader of the Russian faction, had accumulated wealth over several decades. Without the losses caused by World War II and several economic crises, their family's capital would have been ten times greater than it is today. The gold alone amounts to twenty-six tons, valued at nearly eight hundred million euros. In addition, there are boxes full of diamonds, jade, and other precious stones, with a conservative estimated value exceeding three hundred million euros. There are stacks of world-renowned paintings, calligraphy and landscape paintings from the Tang and Song dynasties of China, as well as oil paintings from the European Renaissance—these are truly priceless. Not only would Qin Feng find it difficult to assign a precise value to them, but even the world's top auction houses often struggle to determine their exact worth. Over the years, the prices of antiques have soared significantly, with paintings fetching hundreds of millions of euros becoming commonplace. On the opposite wall, shelves display an array of exquisite porcelain, sculptures, and other artworks—each commanding substantial prices. Together, these assets amount to at least several hundred million euros, which translates to hundreds of billions in RMB. All it takes is a simple gesture to retrieve them, and the entrepreneur would instantly enter the top ten wealthiest individuals in China. "Wow, this is nothing short of a treasure trove." "He paused, murmuring, 'This still doesn't count as money kept in the bank. Yuri is truly a wealthy man. Both of us are from the underworld world—how much does the future-in-law, Su Kui's family, actually have? How much dowry will they be able to offer for their daughter when the time comes? Hehe!' When the door opened, he was on the phone: "Just rest assured, the money I promised you won't be short a single cent. If you're worried about leaving traces with a bank transfer, pay in gold—I've got plenty of funds..." As he spoke, he suddenly widened his eyes and spoke in a trembling voice, "…For now, I have other matters to attend to. We'll discuss this later!" After hanging up, he exclaimed with a voice that even the soprano singers would envy: "My money! Someone's here! Where is my money?"