Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist

Chapter 799: USA Starts To Counter Attack Properly



The war between Russia and the United States had spiraled into chaos with a ferocity the world hadn't seen since World War II. Across oceans and continents, battles raged relentlessly, leaving destruction in their wake. Cities burned, ships sank, and the skies echoed with the deafening roar of warplanes. Millions of people were glued to their screens, watching the conflict unfold in real time, unable to look away.

In the Pentagon, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Generals, admirals, and analysts crowded around illuminated maps and tactical screens, their faces drawn with exhaustion and determination. General Linda Thompson, with her steel-gray hair pulled into a severe bun, tapped the Atlantic section of the map with a pencil.

"This here," she said, her voice sharp and authoritative, "is where the Russians are amassing their submarine fleet. They've already taken out two of our supply routes. If we don't neutralize them now, they'll cripple our naval power in this hemisphere."

Admiral Thomas Harris leaned forward, his hand gripping the edge of the table. "We've got the USS Gerald R. Ford in range. The Stennis is close too, with a solid escort of destroyers and cruisers. We can hit them hard, but we'll need to act fast before they reposition."

Linda narrowed her eyes, considering. "What's the risk assessment?"

"High," Thomas admitted, his voice grim. "But it's worth it. If we don't take this chance, we'll be handing them control of the Atlantic. And without the Atlantic..." He trailed off, the unspoken consequences hanging heavy in the room.

"Do it," Linda said finally. "Hit them with everything we've got."

The orders rippled through the chain of command, sparking a flurry of activity. Onboard the USS Gerald R. Ford, the crew moved with a practiced urgency, checking systems, loading missiles, and bracing for the battle ahead. Captain Eleanor Davis, a seasoned naval officer with a reputation for calm under pressure, addressed her crew over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, her voice steady, "we're heading into a fight that will define the course of this war. Stay sharp, stay focused, and remember your training. We've got this."

The fleet steamed towards the Russian submarines, their radar systems scanning the depths for any sign of the enemy. When the battle began, it was like nothing the sailors had ever experienced. Torpedoes streaked through the water, explosions rocked the ships, and sonar pings filled the air. The ocean became a graveyard, littered with the twisted remains of vessels from both sides.

In the skies, the situation was no less dire. Russian jets launched devastating attacks on U.S. military bases and cities, targeting key infrastructure with precision. Over California, a fierce dogfight erupted between Russian Su-57s and American F-22 Raptors. The pilots' voices crackled over the radio as they engaged in the deadly ballet of aerial combat.

"I've got one on my six!" shouted Captain Reynolds, his voice tight with urgency.

"Hold steady, Reynolds," came the calm reply from Major Carter, his squadron leader. "I'm -coming around."

Reynolds banked sharply, his heart pounding as a Russian missile streaked past his wing. "That was too close!"

Carter's voice cut in again. "Got him locked. Fox three!" A missile launched from Carter's jet, finding its target and reducing the Su-57 to a fiery plume.

But the Russians were relentless. A second wave of jets targeted U.S. bases in Alaska and Hawaii, catching their defenses off guard. The runways erupted in flames, hangars crumbled, and dozens of aircraft were reduced to smoking wreckage. The devastation was staggering.

Back in Rome, Wang Jian and his team watched the news coverage with a mix of satisfaction and unease. The large screen in their suite displayed a live feed of the conflict, interspersed with dramatic headlines and scrolling casualty figures. Wang leaned back in his chair, a glass of red wine in hand, his expression unreadable.

"This is exactly what we needed," Jessica said, her fingers flying over her laptop as she crafted another batch of propaganda. "The world is already questioning the USA's motives. We just need to keep nudging them in the right direction."

Bella, seated cross-legged on the couch with her tablet, nodded. "I'm drafting posts right now. Stuff about civilian casualties, ruined hospitals, you name it. The key is to make it feel personal-like these are real people, not just statistics."

"Careful, though," Emma interjected from the corner, where she was monitoring trends on multiple screens. "We can't push too hard. If it looks fake, people will sniff it out. Subtlety is key. Plant the seed and let it grow."

Charlotte, always the strategist, chimed in. "Let's focus on specific stories. Families torn apart, children caught in the crossfire. We'll amplify the ones that already exist and create new ones where needed."

"Exactly," Wang said, his voice smooth and commanding. "The narrative must be clear: the United States is the aggressor. They started this war, and they're the ones prolonging it. The world needs to see them as a bully, not a savior."

Sarah looked up from her phone, her expression one of grim determination. "I've already reached out to a few journalists we've got on the payroll. They'll start running op-eds tomorrow. Titles like 'Who's Really Behind This War?' and 'The Hidden Cost of American Aggression.' It'll spread like wildfire."

Jessica smirked. "And the beauty is, their own actions do half the work for us. We just have to point it out."

As the night wore on, the team worked tirelessly, their suite buzzing with activity. Wang moved from one to the other, offering suggestions, tweaking strategies, and ensuring their efforts were perfectly coordinated. The stakes were higher than ever, and they all knew it.

"I just got a ping from one of our fake accounts," Bella said suddenly, her eyes lighting up. "It's a tweet about a supposed U.S. drone strike on a civilian shelter. Completely fabricated, but it's already getting traction."

"Good," Wang said, his voice cool. "Keep pushing it. And make sure to tie it to a broader narrative about the U.S. targeting innocent people."

Emma frowned, her fingers tapping on her keyboard. "I'm seeing some pushback already. Some pro-U.S. accounts are calling it out as fake."

"That's expected," Charlotte said with a shrug. "Counter them with more 'eyewitness' accounts. The more voices we add, the harder it'll be for anyone to prove it's fake."

Jessica grinned. "And we've got an army of fake accounts ready to do just that."

Hours turned into days, and the tide of public opinion began to shift. Protests erupted in cities around the world, with demonstrators carrying signs that read, "Stop American Aggression" and "End the War Now." Celebrities and influencers, some genuine and some secretly on Wang Jian's payroll, began speaking out against the United States, their posts

going viral.

In a quiet moment, Wang stood by the window, looking out at the Roman skyline. 'We're winning the information war,' he thought. But he knew better than to celebrate too soon. The United States was far from defeated, and the real battle was just beginning.

The war between the USA and Russia had reached a critical point, with the Americans gaining momentum in various strategic areas. Their technological superiority and powerful arsenal proved decisive in reclaiming territories and weakening the Russian war machine. But the Russians, known for their resilience, were far from conceding defeat.

In a daring move, a Russian submarine fleet executed a surprise assault on a secluded US naval

base in the Arctic, a region known for its harsh and unforgiving climate. The base, ill- prepared for such an attack, suffered significant damage, leaving Admiral Thomas Harris deeply concerned. "This is a direct hit, a bold move by the Russians," he said, his voice grave. "We must respond swiftly and show them the consequences of their actions."

The US Navy, renowned for its prowess, launched a counter-offensive, employing their advanced submarines and state-of-the-art sonar systems to track down the Russian fleet. The Arctic waters became a battleground, with the sound of torpedoes exploding and the cries of sailors echoing through the icy depths.

"We have them in our sights," Commander James Carter reported, his voice tense with focus. "We're engaging the enemy, sir. It's a fierce battle, but we're holding our ground."

As the naval battle raged on, another front opened up in the Middle East. Russian forces, equipped with cutting-edge missile technology and drone squadrons, unleashed a series of devastating strikes on US military bases and their allies.

General Linda Thompson, a seasoned veteran, expressed her concern. "Our bases are under heavy fire, and our ability to maintain control in the region is diminishing," she said, her voice laced with determination. "We must retaliate and show the Russians the strength of the

US military."

The US forces, renowned for their adaptability, launched a series of well-coordinated counterattacks, targeting Russian positions and their allies. The fighting was intense, with both sides enduring significant casualties. However, the superior training and equipment of the US troops began to tip the scales in their favor.

Amidst the chaos of war, Wang Jian, a man of immense influence and ambition, focused on a different mission: the evacuation of prominent American billionaires and celebrities. With the help of his partner, Lady Soffa, the Queen of Spain, he devised a plan to offer them

sanctuary in the Royal Palace of Spain.

"These individuals are the embodiment of American success and influence," Wang Jian said,

his voice filled with conviction. "We must ensure their safety and provide them with a haven away from the chaos."

Lady Soffa, her eyes sparkling with determination, agreed. "I will mobilize our resources. Our private jets and yachts will be at their disposal. We shall bring them to Spain, where they will find refuge and comfort."

In the following days, the Royal Palace of Spain witnessed the arrival of a steady stream of private jets and luxurious yachts, carrying the crème de la crème of American society. Billionaires, social media influencers, and Hollywood's elite sought refuge from the war-torn

USA.

Among the evacuees was Ava, a rising star in the film industry, known for her captivating

beauty and on-screen charm. Wang Jian, ever the opportunist, saw her as more than just a

refugee.

"Lady Soffa, I want to meet this Ava," Wang Jian said, his voice laced with anticipation. "I've heard so much about her, and I wish to experience her allure firsthand."

Lady Soffa, a woman of exquisite taste, understood his desire. "Of course, my dear. Ava is a vision of beauty and talent. I shall arrange a meeting, and you can judge for yourself."

Later that evening, Lady Soffa escorted Ava to Wang Jian's private chambers, her heart racing with a mix of emotions. Ava, her eyes reflecting a blend of fear and curiosity, entered the room, her gown shimmering in the soft light.

Wang Jian, lounging in his luxurious bedroom, rose to greet them. His eyes locked onto Ava, taking in her graceful movements and captivating features. "Ava, it's an honor to have you here," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I've heard so much about your talent and beauty."

Ava, her voice soft and trembling slightly, replied, "Thank you, Mr. Jian. I'm grateful for your hospitality and for the opportunity to be here."

Wang Jian's gaze intensified, his eyes holding a hint of unspoken desire. "And how do you plan to express your gratitude, Ava?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive.

Ava's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and confusion flashing across her face. "I... I'm not sure

I understand, Mr. Jian," she stammered, her voice betraying her unease.

Wang Jian's smile turned mischievous, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I think you do,

Ava," he said, his voice taking on a commanding tone. "Show me your appreciation, and let me see the real you."

Ava's heart raced, her body betraying her growing anxiety. "I... I don't know what you expect

of me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Wang Jian's expression hardened, his eyes now a mixture of desire and determination. "You'll

do as I ask, Ava," he said, his voice leaving no room for refusal. "Undress, and reveal yourself to me."

Ava's eyes welled up with tears, her body trembling as she fought against her emotions. "Please, I can't," she pleaded, her voice breaking.

Wang Jian's gaze intensified, his eyes holding a fierce determination. "You have no choice, Ava," he said, his voice cold and resolute. "Undress, or face the consequences."

With trembling hands, Ava began to remove her gown, her body shaking as she exposed

herself to Wang Jian's hungry gaze. He watched, his eyes devouring her every curve, his desire growing with each passing moment.

He stepped closer, his movements predatory, and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her

towards him. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he whispered, his breath hot on

her skin.

Ava's body tensed, her heart pounding as she felt his lips brush against hers. She tried to resist, but his kiss was insistent, his tongue demanding entry into her mouth.

"Relax, Ava," he murmured against her lips. "Let go of your fears. I'll show you pleasure

beyond your wildest dreams."

As if succumbing to his words, Ava's body began to yield, her hands sliding up his chest, her

resistance melting away. She kissed him back, her lips parting to welcome his exploring tongue.

Wang Jian's hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves, squeezing her breasts, and

cupping her buttocks. He kissed her with a fervor that left her breathless, his teeth gently nipping at her lower lip.

"That's it, Ava," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let yourself go. Surrender to the

pleasure."

Ava's body arched into his touch, her moans filling the room as she responded to his skilled

caresses. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met his, conveying a mix of surrender and

desire.

Wang Jian's smile was one of triumph, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He had broken through her defenses, turning her fear into a burning desire.

"On the bed, Ava," he commanded, his voice brooking no dissent.

Ava complied, her body moving gracefully as she lay on the bed, awaiting his next move.

Wang Jian quickly shed his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers as he revealed his powerful

physique.

Ava's breath caught in her throat as she saw his erection, thick and proud, straining against his body. He moved towards her, his cock brushing against her thighs as he positioned

himself between her legs.

"You're exquisite, Ava," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "And I intend to make you

feel it."

With a powerful thrust, he entered her, filling her with a sensation that left her gasping. Her body tightened around him, and she cried out, her voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

Wang Jian's hips moved in a relentless rhythm, his body driving into hers with each powerful

stroke. Ava's moans filled the room, her hands clutching at the sheets, her body writhing beneath him.

"Wang Jian," she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and pain. "Oh, please, don't stop."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with desire, as he continued to thrust into her, his body moving

in perfect harmony with hers. His hands roamed over her body, his fingers teasing her nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure from her lips.

"That's it, Ava," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Let go, let me take you to then/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

edge."

Ava's body trembled as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy, her pleasure building with each

touch and caress. Her cries filled the room as she climaxed, her body shaking with the intensity of her release.

Wang Jian, his own desire reaching a fever pitch, thrust into her one final time, his body shuddering as he found his release, filling her with his essence.

As they lay entangled in the aftermath, Wang Jian's eyes held a mix of satisfaction and

possessiveness. "You're mine now, Ava," he whispered, his voice soft but commanding. "And I intend to keep you close."

Ava, her body still trembling, looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "I'm

yours, Wang Jian," she whispered, her voice surrendering to his will.