South Vietnam.
Ever since Kennedy nodded and agreed to escalate the Vietnam War, the flames of battle had spread wider and wider.
But reality—
all thunder, no rain.
They said they'd widen the battlefield, yet there were no real results.
It left the South Vietnamese side baffled; the United States claimed it would hike military spending and they'd tensed up—only to find the pressure on the front barely increased.
One had to ask: where did the extra money go?
Fang Yuan: "It's right here with me!"
"All this was bought with that budget?"
After landing, Fang Yuan slapped the helicopter's thick fuselage and asked Atlas's man in charge, Locke.
Locke was the helmsman Fang Yuan had hand-picked for Atlas; he knew the arms business inside out.
If you wanted to operate on the South Vietnamese battlefield, going through Atlas Military's channels made everything easier.
Locke nodded repeatedly.
Outsiders saw him as the rising-star President of a defense firm, but he knew that to Fang Yuan he was just hired help.
"Smells great!" Fang Yuan said.
"This is Atlas's flagship product, the AH-1—the most advanced helicopter on the market."
Locke hurried to explain.
"It's not only super agile but also carries far more than the ubiquitous UH-1," he rattled off, then gave an embarrassed laugh. "Of course, Lord Fang Yuan already knows that."
He suddenly remembered: the AH-1's blueprints had come from Fang Yuan in the first place.
So Locke, eager to show added value, pointed out something not on the original drawings: "Most importantly, our Atlas engineers came up with an upgrade."
"From now on we'll fit every new AH-1 with a tail-wheel, three-point landing gear; it'll absorb crash impacts, greatly boost crew survival, and raise the helicopter's battlefield survivability!"
Fang Yuan's eyes narrowed; the improvement Locke described sounded a lot like a legendary helicopter of his past life—the Black Hawk.
He gave Locke a strange look. "Your Atlas engineers thought of this?"
"Yes. I've always stressed R&D, and the engineers delivered," Locke answered with a proud smile.
Clearly, he was pleased with the outcome.
The AH-1 was already ahead of its rivals; now, with better survivability, it would obliterate the competition.
"Good job!" Fang Yuan praised—then shifted gears. "But we won't adopt it yet."
Locke was still grinning when the refusal hit him; he froze, wondering if he'd misheard.
"L-Lord Fang Yuan, why not?" he stammered.
Fang Yuan looked as if Locke had disappointed him. "The AH-1 is already far enough ahead; further upgrades are just waste."
"And improve survivability?" Fang Yuan stared into Locke's eyes, imparting Vought's time-tested wisdom. "Remember, we sell arms. The more helicopters crash, the more we sell!"
Locke's eyes shot wide open, as if a new World had unfolded.
He'd never imagined business could be done this way.
After all, these were helicopters—each one carried soldiers.
Fang Yuan understood perfectly, but they were American soldiers; what did their deaths have to do with him?
In the United States, the less conscience you had, the bigger the profits.
And he sold weapons—who needs a conscience to sell arms?
If he wanted a conscience he'd sell health supplements.
Wait—those don't need a conscience either.
Locke swallowed hard and wisely kept silent.
"Don't release this upgrade for five years," Fang Yuan decided. "But keep the research going—give every engineer a fat bonus. You get one too."
Even if the plan stayed on the shelf, rewards had to flow; only then would staff keep inventing better gear and keep the company forever ahead.
Since the money kept coming, Locke beamed again.
Whether the plan went public or not, he'd collect his bonus; if soldiers died, so be it.
The more birds crashed, the higher the sales—and another bonus for him.
Locke, now even more enthusiastic, led Fang Yuan into the camp. "Rest assured, the whole base is Atlas personnel; your presence won't leak."
No wonder he was cautious—he knew his company's background was a maze.
Officially he was Kennedy's man, but in truth he belonged to Fang Yuan; he had to guard against rival arms firms and against Kennedy himself.
Before Locke even spoke, Fang Yuan had already swept the camp with Telepathy—no spies.
He nodded inwardly; Locke handled things well.
Fang Yuan followed him inside and soon spotted his targets in a tent.
Two burly, hairy men.
"Victor Creed and James Logan?" Fang Yuan asked.
"Yes."
Logan, sporting flowing locks, hadn't spoken when Victor, thick-bearded, answered first.
Logan glanced at Victor, puzzled; Victor was usually cold to strangers—why so eager today?
Fang Yuan knew the reason.
[Dark Affinity]!
He'd long noticed that, for certain people, the Dark Affinity Aura worked even better than the Low-Level Affinity Aura. Though the skill only claimed to boost dark-related abilities, it had somehow turned him into a dark incubus.
Sabretooth's heart leaned toward darkness; under the twin halos, he'd taken an instant liking to Fang Yuan.
Wolverine, on the other hand, merely didn't dislike him.
But that was expected—Logan distrusted most people by default.
Fang Yuan sent Locke out, leaving only the three of them in the tent, then spoke.
"I've had my eye on you two for a long time—the camp's immortal warriors."
"Folks around here don't talk so nice," Logan cut in. "They call us… monsters."
"Now they call us Awakened," Victor added, shaking his head. "Strange name."
"That's because they don't know you've served this country since the Civil War," Fang Yuan said, instantly sharpening both men's attention.
"I'm the founder of Vought Group; we're all Awakened like you."
Smiling, Fang Yuan teleported beside them, startling Logan and Victor; their bone claws and Talons snapped out, stopping inches away.
"Relax," Fang Yuan said, unfazed by the blades at his throat. "One of my employees is three thousand years old."
Hearing that—and seeing Fang Yuan's power—Logan and Victor lowered their guard.
Among their own kind, without competing interests, people always relax a bit.
"I'm here to invite you to Vought. Wasting your talents as grunts on a battlefield is a crime," Fang Yuan stated his purpose.
"Oh?" Victor licked his lips. "And how exactly would your Vought company let us use our talents?"
Fang Yuan smiled: "How about becoming bodyguards to the President?"
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