Harem Overlord of the Apocalypse

Hours later, news of the infiltration and attack on Barron's mansion spread everywhere, making headlines around the country.

Although the arms dealer had a bad reputation abroad, in this country he was known as a close friend of the president.

He had donated large amounts to charities and public projects, making him look like a patriot in the eyes of the people.

The reports called it a terrorist attack.

As for Barron himself, he was completely fine — he wasn't at the mansion when the attack happened.

Security at airports became much stricter, and the people responsible for the attack were now being hunted down.

With the government — and the entire country — now focused on the attack, it would be almost impossible for the mercenaries to escape.

<Foreign Intelligence Service HQ>

The building stood tall and cold in the middle of Moscow, its steel and glass walls gleaming under the gray sky.

Thick security fences surrounded it on all sides, guarded by armed soldiers and watchtowers.

Deep inside the building, past multiple guarded checkpoints, was the department chief's office.

It was a wide room with dark wooden walls lined with books and medals.

A large desk sat near a massive window overlooking the city, and a single Russian flag stood in the corner.

The department chief officer, a stern man with gray hair and almond eyes, sat behind the desk, going through thick folders.

Suddenly, his private phone rang, its tone breaking the silence.

He glanced at the caller ID and immediately stood up straighter, his face turning serious.

"Yes, Mr. President."

A deep voice came from the other side of the line, firm and cold.

"Find the one responsible for the attack on Barron's mansion. I don't care what it takes. Use every resource we have. We cannot let this go unpunished."

The chief officer swallowed hard, his hand gripping the phone tighter.

"Understood, sir. We'll do everything possible. We will find them."

After the call ended, the chief officer received an email from a secure channel.

As soon as he opened it, a video file started playing — and what he saw made him jump to his feet.

The footage was blurry and shaky, but it clearly showed a single human figure tearing through trucks and even helicopters, using flames.

If this video hadn't come directly from the president himself, he would have thought it was a teaser for some new superhero movie.

The chief officer clenched his jaw, eyes locked on the screen.

"What kind of monster is this…? Did the United State send a mutant?"

That was the first thought that flashed through his mind.

As the chief of Foreign Intelligence Service, he had spies placed all over the world.

Through them, he heard whispers about the USA's secret mutant program — a project they always denied, claiming it was inhumane and had been shut down after world war II.

But now, watching this video, those rumors felt more real than ever.

His heart pounded as he realized that what he was seeing might be proof that the Americans succeeded in creating a living weapon.

'No wonder the president wants it captured,'

'Forget about what it stole — getting that thing would give us the perfect material to speed up our own 3rd generation super soldier program.'

He remembered that the ones guarding Barron's mansion were only first-generation super soldiers.

The second generation was the one guarding Barron.

In terms of combat abilities, it was a huge leap beyond the first generation — but even then, it would still be no match for the figure in the video.

The real problem wasn't just strength — it was the flames. No matter how strong someone was, they couldn't fight against an enemy who could simply burn them to death.

The chief picked up his phone and started dialing.

"Dr. Ranov, send me ten 2nd generation super soldiers to help with the recent incident," he ordered firmly.

The person on the other line immediately agreed, especially after hearing that the incident might be connected to America's secret mutant project.

Little did they know, even the west were panicking.

They were convinced that the Russians had already completed their own mutant project.

Urgently, they quickly ordered all their spies within the country to gather any information they could about the mysterious individual who could control flames.

.

.

.

Back in the United States.

Dr. Ivan paced back and forth, his face tense after hearing that things had spiraled out of control.

He hadn't gotten any updates from his mercenary team — or from Terrence.

It was especially hard to get news now, with the situation becoming more dangerous by the hour.

'I need to prepare,' he thought anxiously. 'If they trace this back to me, we will have to disappear.'

He got too greedy, and now it was coming back to bite him.

Just as he was thinking about his next move, he received an encrypted email from one of his people.

[The samples are still secured. Moving them might be tricky. Awaiting your instructions.]

He texted back (Is the main sample still there?)

[No, but we got the data. It's very promising, so that should be enough assurance]

(Good. Destroy the remaining samples.)

It was actually a secret message, ordering his people to kill the mercenaries.

They knew too much, and keeping them alive had become too big of a risk.

Dr. Ivan might have acted friendly toward Terrence, but that was only because he respected his strength.

Deep down, Ivan was a ruthless man — someone who had built his wealth through shady deals and dirty tricks, always stepping on others to get ahead.

[Already done]

When he got the message, he finally felt like he could breathe a little easier.

As for Terrence, he was confident that he would be able to make it back to the United States on his own.

"Father," Anna stepped into his office.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, pretending as if nothing had happened.

"You and Terrence… what are you hiding from me?"