Chapter 180: Ragnarok (Finale)

Chapter 180: Ragnarok (Finale)



Since this was a legal matter, it became a matter of force—and Wayne had never been one to back down.

"Isaac, add a clause to the public announcement: any nation that voluntarily returns patent rights within seventy-two hours..."

"...keeps a 30% profit-sharing arrangement. If they fail to comply on time, the Marauder Corps will forcibly reclaim those rights through the Global Arbitration Court under the original owner's name."

Isaac's keyboard clattered loudly on the other end. "Should I disseminate this through the dark web or the public internet?"

"Both."

Saskia's voice suddenly cut into the channel. "Wayne, you just got pulled out from under the ice. Your bones haven't even healed yet. Forcing forty-seven nations to take a stance right now—what if someone refuses?"

"Then let them refuse. If they still won't comply after three days, I'll go collect it myself."

Emily said nothing, but when Jenny was stacking blocks, she quietly straightened one that had gone crooked.

After two seconds of silence, Saskia said, "I'll hand over everything from the legal team to your side. I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

The channel went dead.

Morrison closed the door and lowered his voice. "Three of those forty-seven countries are permanent Security Council members. Will they hand things over within seventy-two hours?"

"No. The big players won't. The small ones will."

"Then what about the big ones?"

Wayne didn't answer. Instead, he pressed Rivera's channel. "Rivera, I need three communication relay satellites to broadcast a message. Duration: forty-eight hours."

Rivera paused for two seconds. "I'll make a call."

Twenty minutes later, Isaac spoke up.

"Chief, nine minutes after the statement was released, eleven nations' health departments have sent confirmation through diplomatic channels. They agree to return the patents."

Morrison asked in surprise, "Nine minutes?"

Small nations had no bargaining chips. They relied on those patents to treat their patients. If forced arbitration kicked in, treatment would halt—and they couldn't afford to wait.

Forty minutes later: "Twenty-three nations have agreed to return the patents. Another eight are conducting internal reviews. Expected completion within six hours."

Morrison did the math. "That leaves sixteen."

Among them: three permanent Security Council members and five core parliamentary alliance successor states.

Together, they issued a statement refusing to recognize retroactive original ownership claims and called for an emergency UN meeting.

Wayne looked down at Jenny. She was building a lopsided tower with her blocks.

"Daddy, look—a castle."

"Nice job." Wayne patted her head, then spoke into the communicator. "Isaac, step two."

Isaac had already begun executing it.

He released all internal parliamentary memos to the public—including evidence of the assassinations of three genetic researchers, the forged patent transfer process, and the names of collaborating nations.

Wayne added, "Make sure to highlight which governments knew about the stolen patents and still agreed to use them."

Morrison finally understood. "You're not really here to fight a legal battle, are you?"

"Not exactly. The lawsuit is a tool to pressure smaller nations into backing down. Big nations have ways around it."

So what was the method for dealing with big nations?

"Scandal."

Six hours later, media outlets around the world exploded. Headlines ranged from "The Academic Theft of the Century" to "Sovereign Nations Assassinate Scientists."

Isaac reported that of the remaining sixteen countries, nine had caved under public pressure.

Their statements claimed they were "temporarily suspending related patent operations to avoid misunderstandings" and would wait for the joint arbitration results before proceeding.

"Translation: they folded, but they're too proud to admit it," Morrison said.

Of the remaining seven, three permanent members labeled Wayne an "international security threat" and refused all communication.

Rivera's expression was grim when he came upstairs. "Wayne, the Federal Military Committee called. They want you to stop escalating this."

Wayne didn't answer that question. Instead, he asked something seemingly unrelated.

"Rivera, over four hundred people in military hospitals are alive thanks to parliamentary chips. Who's handling their maintenance and repairs now?"

Rivera froze.

"Without the parliament and contract enforcers, those chips need routine calibration every thirty days. Without it, your people will start experiencing malfunctions."

Wayne looked at Rivera. "The chip patents belong to me. I'll protect them—no strings attached. Because they were stolen from me in the first place."

Rivera stood still for three seconds, then picked up his phone and made a call. "Tell the committee what Wayne just said."

Then he asked, "What about the remaining seven? What's your plan?"

Wayne walked to the window. "Isaac, in those seven nations' military software systems, did Griffin leave any backdoors?"

"Yes."

"Activate them."

The sound of rapid typing followed. Isaac said, "The backdoors aren't attack programs—they're information display modules."

The next time those seven nations activated their defense systems, a window would pop up on every operator's screen.

"This system's core firmware was developed under authorization from Predator Eagle, property code PK-001, and operates under the supervision of the rights holder."

Rivera's face darkened. "That's basically exposing your most critical weapons systems to the enemy from day one."

"It's not for the military to see. It's for the presidents and prime ministers. My life is in their hands."

Twelve hours later, four of the seven nations reached out through private diplomatic channels requesting "closed-door negotiations." Their tone had softened considerably.

The other three permanent members remained silent.

Six hours after that, Isaac delivered the final update.

"All three nations, through the UN Secretary-General's office, have acknowledged that the GE series blueprints' original ownership belongs to China. They're willing to discuss future cooperation frameworks."

Morrison set the communicator on the table and let out a long breath.

When the white-haired doctor came for a routine check, Wayne wasn't by the window.

Looking back, he saw Wayne and Jenny lying side by side. Jenny's hand rested on Wayne's arm. Both were asleep.

A patch on Jenny's chest glowed with a steady white light, rising and falling with her heartbeat.

Emily sat at the bedside, holding a half-peeled apple. She finished peeling the other half.

Morrison closed the door. "Let's get some rest. Let them sleep."

The hallway was utterly silent. Saskia had left long ago, but she'd left a note on the table with a single sentence.

"Next time, don't take forty-eight hours."

Morrison folded the note and tucked it into his pocket, then slid down the wall to sit. Outside, the sunlight gradually faded.

Isaac's final message crackled through the communicator. "Morrison."

"Post-operation statistics: all thirty-two thousand overseas disabled veterans have had normal water supply and medical services restored."

"Primary parliamentary assets have completed property registration. All residual signals from the Arctic Court Hub have been eliminated."

After Morrison switched off the communicator, he said one more thing.

"Archive this. Title it: 'The King Returns.'"