The Tycoon's Odyssey

"It failed… it failed," Malcolm muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with despair. He sank into his chair, exhaustion seeping into his bones. The room around him felt smaller, suffocating. He closed his eyes briefly, dreading the chaos that now seemed inevitable.

But the despair was fleeting. His eyes snapped open, and an uncharacteristic fire burned in them. He shot up from his chair, his voice booming through the room.

"Since we can't win this technological warfare, we'll wage psychological warfare instead!"

The stunned silence in the room was broken by one of his staff, who hesitantly asked, "Sir… what do you mean?"

Malcolm paced the room, his mind churning. His expression grew darker as he spoke, each word laced with calculated resolve.

"Broadcast everything. Every act of violence Evan has committed. Show the world the carnage he's caused. Fabricate if necessary—make it worse than it already is." He paused, locking eyes with his team. "We'll paint him as the most heinous and cruel bastard to ever exist. The people will abhor him. They'll fear him. His name will be synonymous with horror."

The staff exchanged uneasy glances, but Malcolm's resolve remained unwavering. His voice grew more sinister as he continued, "This isn't just a war of weapons—it's a war of perception. We'll destroy his image, no matter the cost."

For a brief moment, Malcolm's thoughts turned darker, more dangerous. 'A fleeting notion crossed his mind: Why should I alone bear this burden? Perhaps I should unleash the payload on other countries. Drag everyone down with me.'

He shook his head violently, dispelling the treacherous thought. 'Control… I need to control,' he reminded himself, inhaling deeply to steady his nerves.

Just as he began to refocus, a sudden shout erupted from the doorway.

"Sir! There's an attack!"

Malcolm turned sharply, his heart pounding. "What did you say?"

"It's as I said, sir. An unknown force is attacking—our defenses are compromised. You need to evacuate immediately!"

Chaos erupted in the room as Malcolm processed the alarming news. Adrenaline surged through his veins, and he barked orders to his staff, his mind racing for a way out of the storm enveloping them all.

_____

At Fort Bastion, one of USL's most prominent military bases, soldiers scrambled in position to prepare their defenses. The base, home to elite divisions, was not designed for real-world sieges, and now they were about to face a challenge far beyond what they had trained for.

A massive carrier ship, belonging to Evan's forces, loomed in the sky, casting a shadow over the nearby town of Havenridge. Jets and other aircraft at the nearby airfield had been grounded, as the commanders waited for the carrier to move out of range. The pilots sat in their planes, eager but powerless, waiting for orders.

Major Hail, Fort Bastion's commander, rallied his troops. "This is our land, our country!" he bellowed. "We don't give up without a fight!"

The morale among the defenders was high, bolstered by years of training and a belief in their inevitable victory. But that confidence would soon be shattered.

Marching toward the base were two hundred of Evan's highly trained soldiers, clad in advanced armored suits. The suits, called Sentinel Armor, were a marvel of technology. They absorbed bullets, deflected grenades, and even shrugged off direct hits from rocket launchers.

The soldiers of the Airborne Division were on high alert. This base was considered the pride of the USL military and was known for its strategic importance and elite troops.

The base commander, Colonel William had been preparing for an attack ever since receiving reports of their forces being defeated by Evan's combined assault.

The troops watched as drones scouted the incoming threat. What they saw made their blood run cold—two hundred soldiers marching in perfect unison, clad in sleek black armored suits. These suits seemed indestructible, deflecting bullets and shrugging off explosions from grenades and even rocket launchers.

"Open fire."

The first attack came from artillery cannons stationed at the fort. Explosive shells rained down on the invaders, creating deafening blasts and sending clouds of smoke into the sky. But when the smoke cleared, the troops were still marching. One soldier, hit directly by a shell, staggered but got back up, unfazed.

Desperation set in. The USL forces launched an airstrike. Twelve cargo planes, repurposed as bombers, flew overhead, dropping hundreds of pounds of explosives.

The ground shook as the bombs detonated, sending debris flying in all directions. This time, two of Evan's soldiers fell, crushed under the sheer force of the blasts. But the rest continued their advance, their armor sparking and dented but holding strong.

From a nearby ridge, Captain Bran, one of Evan's field commanders, surveyed the battlefield through his helmet's enhanced visor.

"This is barely a warm-up," he muttered, signaling his troops to continue their relentless march.

Inside Fort Bastion, panic spread like wildfire. Colonel Wilkins, the base commander, barked orders at his staff.

"Bring out everything we have! Tanks, drones—anything!"

"But sir, the drones can't get a clear visual! Their armor deflects thermal imaging!" a technician replied, his voice shaking.

"Then use manual targeting! We can't let them reach the gates!" Wilkins slammed his fist on the table, but deep down, he knew it was hopeless.

Outside, the invaders reached the outer defenses. A barrage of gunfire erupted from the fort's walls, but the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the Sentinel Armor. Grenades exploded around them, carving fiery craters in the ground, yet the soldiers marched on, their synchronized steps echoing ominously.

One defender yelled, "Are they even human?" before being silenced by a precise shot from one of Evan's snipers.

Evan's troops launched a coordinated assault on the fort. They used advanced energy weapons that melted through steel barriers like butter. The defenders' tanks roared in defiance, unleashing round after round, but the invaders moved too quickly, using their superior technology to outmaneuver and overwhelm them by destroying the heavy vehicles with brutal efficiency.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the fort.

One of the retreating defenders had rigged the tank with explosives and detonated it. The blast engulfed several of Evan's soldiers, leaving a smoking crater in their formation. Despite the loss, the rest pressed forward, undeterred.

Inside the command center, Wilkins received the grim news.

"They've breached the inner defenses. We can't hold them any longer."

"Then we have no choice," Wilkins said, his voice heavy with defeat. "Order the surrender."

_____

In Devil's Triangle

Evan watched the battle unfold from a remote control center. Aurora's holographic body appeared beside him and spoke.

[The fort has fallen. Resistance was minimal after the breach,] Aurora reported.
Stay tuned for updates on My Virtual Library Empire

"Good," Evan said coldly. "This is just the beginning. Prepare for the next phase. I want them to take over the leaders of other nations as swiftly as possible."

Back on the battlefield, the remaining defenders laid down their arms as Evan's troops secured the fort. The once-proud base now lay in ruins, a testament to the power of Evan's technological superiority—and the futility of resistance.