Megan Fox was sound asleep.
The girl had just experienced the most intense sex of her life—for the very first time.
She was like a sea swallow, soaring alone over the vast ocean, fighting to stay aloft.
A wild wind whipped up black storm clouds.
Between the dark clouds and the surging sea, the swallow became a black bolt of lightning, flying proudly.
One moment her wings brushed against the waves, the next she pierced the storm clouds like an arrow. Her cries—those brave cries—filled the sky, and the storm itself seemed to respond with joy.
Each shriek was a cry of yearning for the tempest!
Each cry carried the furious might of thunderclouds, the flame of passion, and a resolute belief in triumph.
...
Thunder boomed. The angry waves roared in defiance, battling the wind with their own voices.
Look—how the raging wind clutched and hurled wave after wave onto the cliffs, crushing their jade-green forms into mist and shards.
If "ecstasy" were a state of enlightenment, then Megan Fox had surely just attained the realm of Ascension.
...
The next morning.
Megan, now marked by the seed of love, woke with a radiant face.
Instinctively, she turned to the pillow beside her. It was empty—Martin was gone.
A hint of panic flashed across her heart. She got dressed and went downstairs.
There she saw a group of beautiful girls busy at work.
Martin was calmly enjoying breakfast at the table.
Seeing Megan come down, he smiled and greeted her.
"Good morning, Megan."
"Let me introduce you. The ones cooking in the kitchen are Heather and Biu—my two dearest hostesses."
"To my right is Lindsay, my adorable sweetheart; to my left is Alexandra, a stunning mermaid beauty."
Then he turned to the girls and added, "This is Megan—your newest sister."
Martin spoke with such natural ease, it made Megan feel like everything was perfectly normal. Well, perhaps it was the lingering effect of that passionate night.
The girls all greeted her warmly.
Biu called out, "Come have breakfast! Try Heather's and my cooking."
Megan suddenly remembered, "Ah—I haven't even washed my face yet!"
"It's fine, wash after you eat," Heather replied.
Megan didn't insist. She smiled, gave her thanks, and sat down.
The light rain from yesterday had cleared. Dawn in Los Angeles was bright and crisp, and the air smelled fresh.
...
Guinea, Africa.
Martin's private jet landed at the Conakry International Airport—Guinea's primary hub.
"This airport is a total wreck," Jessica muttered after the plane landed.
She looked around at the dilapidated structure, clearly unimpressed.
"Give me a break—this is Africa," Scarlett said.
"I've been to South Africa. Their airports are at least a hundred times better than this dump," Jessica replied.
"Stop whining. The airport doesn't matter—as long as we landed. Remember, we're here to go hunting," Lindsay chimed in as she disembarked behind Scarlett.
Right behind her was Alexandra Daddario.
The young woman said nothing but looked around excitedly. It was her first time traveling abroad.
Though the surroundings were rundown and quiet, in her eyes, everything was filled with exotic charm.
"Hey, ladies—enough chatter. Our ride's here,"
Martin was the last one off the plane.
Ahead of them, three Hummers drove toward them in a convoy.
Before the lead vehicle had fully stopped, the passenger door swung open, and a young Black man jumped out and ran over.
"Are you the esteemed Mr. Meyers?"
His eyes scanned the group and lingered momentarily on the stunning girls, but he quickly gathered himself and respectfully focused on the only man among them.
Thanks to the Meyers family's heavy investments in Guinea—spanning mining, agriculture, energy, and arms—the nation's economic lifeline was essentially in Martin's hands.
Of course, he had also expended tremendous magical energy to deploy large-scale soul-binding arrays. Within their range, people's minds subtly changed. Without realizing it, they developed absolute loyalty to Martin—including the citizens of the capital, Conakry.
Under Martin's orders, his mining company in Guinea established a complete local management team composed entirely of "Black elites," tasked with overseeing the native laborers.
These newly promoted overseers were even more loyal to the Meyers family than those bound by magic—devoted to the point of fanatical obedience.
They would go to any lengths to fulfill directives from above, ruthlessly exploiting their own kind—whipping them, beating them with clubs... such violence was a regular occurrence.
Ruling Black people with Black enforcers—this method had been passed down from the colonial playbook of old Europe.
In peacetime, this method was brutally effective. As long as basic fairness was maintained, uprisings were rare, and corporal punishment wasn't considered a big deal.
After all, the local laborers had virtually no rights to speak of.
"Mister Meyers, I'm Joe Gia—your guide for this trip."
"Your English is not bad, Joe," Martin said casually.
That small compliment made Joe puff out his chest in pride and beam.
"I've been studying hard, sir."
"Good. Take me to the mine first."
Martin gestured for the girls to get in the vehicles and turned to Kiều Gia.
Joe nodded quickly, "Mr. Jones and the others are already waiting at the site. Since you insisted, they didn't come to greet you at the airport—but they've arranged a welcome banquet at the mine."
Martin shook his head as he walked toward the car, chuckling, "I just didn't want to trouble them, so I told them not to bother. Who knew they'd go ahead with a welcome feast anyway…"
As Joe opened the door for Martin, he replied earnestly, "Mr. Jones only wanted to show respect. When a king visits, how can his subjects not bow in reverence?"
Martin laughed heartily. "That's a bit much."
But Joe said seriously, "No, sir. I think the comparison is perfect. To us, you're like a king."
Martin was slightly moved by that, smiled, and nodded—but said nothing more.
The three Hummers rumbled over the dusty, uneven roads.
In the same vehicle as Martin, Alexandra Daddario asked curiously, "Where are we going now? Hunting?"
Martin joked, "Nope. First we're heading to my company's newly discovered mine. Gotta check out the land I've just conquered."
"A mine? What kind?" Alexandra asked.
"Gold. It's a gold mine," Martin replied.
Then he turned to the Black man sitting beside the driver's seat. "Joe, how's the labor situation?"
"We've hired over 400 workers. But since the equipment hasn't arrived yet, we can't start mining. I suggested to Mr. Jones that we have them start building roads. Can't let them sit around idle."
At this point, a look of disdain crossed Joe face.
"I know these people well. If they have too much free time, nothing good comes of it—drinking, fighting, running off to tribal villages chasing women… If we're not careful, we'll have bastards born before the mine even starts operating. These folks must be driven with the whip. Only constant labor can burn off their excess energy."