In the clean, bright office, the Senior Soldier was reviewing so mission reports.
Darkstone Security had already secured its footing in the private military contracting industry, with its employees scattered dostically and abroad.
After each military operation concludes, the person in charge among the operatives must submit a report outlining the issues encountered during the mission.
If there are areas where judgnt is required, such as deciding to eliminate a threat by shooting early, they must explain why they judged it that way and provide reasons.
Overall, this is a very tedious job, facing these kinds of reports daily, watching as so lives are humorously described in a few lines before disappearing in the reports, life is neither precious nor heavy.
It’s not even as heavy as a piece of paper!
The office door opened, and a blonde girl poked her head in and made a phone gesture.
"Senior Soldier, your phone..."
Seated in the office, the Senior Soldier was wearing his least favorite formal attire, as was customary at the Darkstone Security headquarters.
They weren’t on the front lines, didn’t need heavy bulletproof vests, nor did they need to pull out guns and shoot anyone at any ti; they just needed to brew a cup of coffee and quietly wait for the day to pass.
Initially, it was difficult to adapt to such a lifestyle, but once used to it, it was no big deal, more importantly, he was about to beco a father.
He had more ti to stay at ho, and it seed he was particularly lucky that ti, both he and his wife eagerly anticipated the arrival of new life.
He even learned to smile.
At this mont, he smiled and thanked his secretary, then picked up the phone and pressed the flashing green button.
Different institutions have different signs; the President’s table had over ten colored buttons.
"Senior Soldier...Sir, this is...the City Telegraph Bureau. I am relaying Mr. Lynch’s telegram. Once you are ready to record, please let know at any ti..."
...
A mont later, the Senior Soldier frowned as he dialed other action departnts’ phones, informing them of the content of the call he received. Ultimately, everyone unanimously decided that the Senior Soldier should personally oversee this mission.
Clearly, Mr. Lynch may have encountered so trouble, and Mr. T is likely Mr. Truman, suggesting this trouble is not trivial.
Less than fifteen minutes after the call, two teams comprised of fourteen Darkstone Security personnel ard to the teeth boarded cars going to the railway station. They were to head to the port city and then catch up with the cruise ship Lynch was on.
The Senior Soldier also joined them, sensing that the situation was abnormal and sothing big was about to happen!
...
After dinner, a girl responsible for night watch in the telegraph room arrived at her workplace.
To prevent ergencies from occurring, the telegraph room had soone on duty at night, from 9 PM to 6 AM the next morning, a nine-hour shift that was considered a leisurely job in the Federation.
At least this job just required monitoring if the telegraph needles would sway and understanding so basic telegraph content analysis.
It’s even fine if not; just call soone who does understand directly.
Paid six hundred bucks a month for less than twenty days of work, this job was really great.
Upon entering the telegraph room, the telegrapher pulled the curtains, confird no one was around, then bent down and started attempting to break the telegraph machine.
If these things weren’t destroyed, people on the ship could contact cities along the coast at any ti, posing a fatal threat to their plan.
After fernting overnight, the atmosphere on the ship seed less tense.
During breakfast, Lynch sat at the edge of the second-floor dining area, not letting Penny follow him. The girl beca exceptionally sensible during this ti, not running around but staying quietly in the cabin.
While eating breakfast and observing changes around him, Lynch suddenly sensed soone stood behind him.
Without showing any reaction, he picked up a dining fork... Many people thought it was more appropriate to pick up a dining knife at this ti; in fact, this idea was incorrect.
The tip of the dining knife wasn’t capable of causing significant harm to the human body through clothes; its function was for cutting, with the blade edge on the knife.
While slashing soone’s throat with it is useful, how many people can quickly and accurately use a dining knife to eliminate an enemy?
Conversely, a dining fork is more practical at this mont; the fork’s tip can easily pierce through various fabrics, penetrating into the flesh, the chest being a good choice.
Inserting it into the ribs can instantly disable soone’s ability to attack, and if not hitting the ribs, a quick twist can still render soone incapable of fighting.
Or insert it into the waist and abdon, two to three centiters in specific regions can cause internal injuries with lethal effects.
Inserting it into throats is even easier and more convenient than cutting soone’s throat open with the blade of a dining knife.
Lynch slightly tilted his body, quickly glanced over his shoulder, then put down the fork in his hand.
It was the young man he t at the casino yesterday; this guy gave him a position, obviously, the other party wanted to chat with him.
"Mr. Lynch, we et again."
Lynch picked up a napkin to wipe his hands, stood up and shook hands with the young man, then invited him to sit down, "You know already, but I still don’t know you."
"My na is Sinder..."
"Mr. Lynch, I’m very pleased to speak with you. I’ve learned a lot about you through other channels before now."
"Things like the financial war and such. You’re a very thoughtful and capable person, and I’ve always been proud until I learned about your actions."
Sinder’s flattery is quite interesting. He doesn’t hide his intentions and isn’t embarrassed at all, which actually indicates that he must be a successful person, or at least has a successful background.
If soone truly has a moral obsession, that person is definitely not going to succeed.
You can’t exploit those workers, can’t take money from ordinary people’s pockets, can’t evict people from their hos to sue for taking their houses; when will you beco wealthy?
No moral baseline, shalessness, these are the foundations of success.
Lynch nodded slightly. Federation people like to acknowledge the things they’ve done and achievents they’ve made, humility is lost on them.
"Mr. Lynch, where do you think the current wave of developnt in the Federation is?"
Lynch promptly responded, "In the research and developnt sector..."
The two chatted for a while, and Sinder seed very interested in what Lynch was saying. When Lynch brought up "technology is the primary productive force," Sinder was excited as if he were a man-ape seeing a woman for the first ti.
What a bizarre taphor?!
After breakfast, Lynch didn’t imdiately return to his cabin but wandered around.
Today, there were fewer crew mbers walking around the ship, but the level of vigilance was much higher than usual.
At certain key points, there would be at least two or three crew mbers stationed.
They seed ready to serve everyone at any mont, but in truth, they were looking for those hidden enemies among the crowd. Lynch even noticed they were carrying weapons, which was not a good sign.
They seed unwilling to resolve the current predicant by other ans, such as seeking help.
Lynch could understand this, as behind Every Mont stood one of the biggest warlords in Mariluo, and they also had to consider the impact on the company if Federation police and military got involved.
They believed they could solve the problem, but could they really?
Lynch didn’t think so.
If they could solve it, they wouldn’t be so tense now; they must have encountered a big problem!
Upon returning to the cabin, the girl imdiately approached Lynch. He had been assuring her that nothing bad would happen, but she was still very nervous.
She didn’t ask anything, just looked at Lynch.
Lynch patted her hand, and they sat down on the sofa in the living room, "Situations haven’t improved much. I took a walk on the first and second floors, and there might still be intruders on the ship that haven’t been discovered."
Penny then asked a question, "Why don’t we tell people on the ship about this?"
Lynch looked at her as if she were dim-witted, "Tell who?"
"Anyone, I think we can’t just do nothing, this is too passive. We have to do sothing," her emotions were off.
This was understandable, after more than a day of tension, after all, patience and calmness would be lost. She was already doing well by not acting recklessly.
Lynch held her hand tightly, saying, "The captain and their team already know and are taking action."
"Telling other guests will only lead to greater panic without any aningful result, and could possibly trigger danger prematurely."
"More importantly, Every Mont is a listed company, and now the ship has so many influential millionaires. The captain, knowing there’s an issue, still hasn’t chosen to dock or let Federation military and police intervene."
"Do you understand what I an?"
Lynch’s tone was light and effortless, but his words made Penny’s heart sink.
"This involves tens of millions, maybe even hundreds of millions, in interests. Until the last mont, they absolutely won’t make a decision."
"Informing others can only worsen the current situation, causing us to lose even more initiative, understand?"
He stroked the girl’s hair to give her a sense of safety.
If they docked now and admitted a threat aboard the cruise, Every Mont’s competence would first be questioned. How could they be unaware sothing had been smuggled on board, their status in the Federation would plumt.
Moreover, so many influential millionaires invited to participate in the spring product eting, if they’re implicated in a safety issue, these millionaires would definitely not stand idly by; they might cancel their bespoke services with Every Mont.
To prevent significant losses, Every Mont’s high level and the warlords behind it might not handle the situation calmly.
Whoever exposes the current situation and creates a disturbance would offend people.
They might even opt to make so people disappear just to maintain the current situation.
anwhile, in the captain’s cabin, the captain’s face was grim enough to make people steer clear—
"Gentlen, we have lost our ability to communicate with the outside!"
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