As Matthew spoke, he gestured for Ivan to sit down.
At the center of the stone pavilion stood a stone table surrounded by several matching stools. The pavilion itself wasn't particularly large, but the view was wide and open, allowing the garden scenery to stretch peacefully in every direction.
A few maids approached quietly, setting down fruit, tea, and refreshnts with practiced elegance before bowing respectfully and retreating to wait outside the pavilion, ready to serve at any mont.
The villa had originally belonged to Dreykov.
Matthew rarely visited the place himself, but selling it had seed wasteful, so he had simply left it unused until now.
And today, it finally served a purpose.
"What exactly do you want to do?" Ivan asked with a frown.
Although this was his first eting with Matthew, and the young Westerner's attitude had been calm and polite from the start, Ivan still felt an inexplicable sense of fear toward him.
That fear ca from Matthew himself.
Which made no sense.
It was strange—completely against instinct and reason.
Ever since childhood, Ivan had been a rebellious and dangerous man. If he had to compare himself to sothing, he was like a vicious Siberian hamster.
Normally, he could disguise himself as harmless and dull, but beneath that surface hid a violent and ruthless nature.
At any mont, he could kill soone he disliked without hesitation.
Powerful figures, billionaires, n standing high above others—none of them ant anything to him. If he wanted to, he could eliminate them without the slightest rcy.
Yet in front of Matthew, Ivan realized he could not summon even a trace of hostility.
That abnormal feeling unsettled him deeply, though he forcibly kept it from showing on his face.
What Ivan did not know was that, although he believed he had concealed himself perfectly, Matthew was not an ordinary person.
Even without using Observation Haki, every subtle movent and expression from Ivan was impossible to hide from Matthew's eyes.
"I already told you," Matthew said calmly. "I need your knowledge. I need you to teach the expertise you possess in your field."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"In return, you may ask one thing of ."
"Anything?" Ivan let out a mocking laugh.
At that mont, he suddenly felt Matthew was extrely arrogant.
"As long as it's sothing I can accomplish."
Ivan fell silent.
Despite the short conversation, his impression of Matthew was not bad at all. There was no arrogance, no condescending attitude common among people in power.
Matthew spoke to him as one stranger speaking equally to another.
That basic respect alone was already rare.
The only thing Ivan remained wary of was the strange influence Matthew himself seed to exert over him instinctively.
"Then what if I ask for my father to live on in good health?" Ivan tested him deliberately.
"That's possible. It isn't difficult."
"You should know my father is old," Ivan said skeptically. "His body has accumulated all kinds of illnesses over the years. Ordinary dical treatnt can't restore him."
His father had once possessed a strong constitution, but the years spent constantly fleeing and hiding with him had eventually destroyed his health.
And ntally, the old man had always carried obsessions and shadows he could never let go of.
His illness was not only physical, but psychological as well.
"I possess thods that go beyond conventional dicine," Matthew replied with a faint smile. "Your father's condition is not a problem."
Leaving aside the Heal-Heal Fruit, the Super Soldier Serum alone had already beco the foundation for extensive dical research after its full developnt.
The scientific division had hardly been sitting idle.
Using it as a base, they had developed antiviral serums, treatnt drugs, and various restorative dicines, all of which had been transferred to the dical departnt.
Many clinical trials had produced outstanding results. Not only could it replenish the vitality weakened by old age, it could also greatly accelerate healing and physical recovery.
lina was even considering creating a weakened comrcial version to combine with the dical industry under Karla's control and earn a small fortune from it.
"And why should I believe you?" Ivan asked the key question directly.
"That depends on your choice, Mr. Ivan. There are many choices in life, but whether or not you can make the right one even once may determine the direction of your entire future."
Matthew raised his teacup and took a sip.
The taste was fairly good.
Respecting knowledge did not an Ivan and his father were irreplaceable.
To put it bluntly, Matthew choosing Ivan this ti was likely the most important opportunity Ivan had ever encountered in his life.
He was offering Ivan another path.
And at this crossroads, Ivan's decision would determine what kind of road he would walk from now on.
"I agree."
Ivan stared fixedly at Matthew. For so reason, he had a strange feeling deep inside himself—an incredibly strong one.
Strong enough that he chose to believe him.
"Good."
"You'll be grateful for the choice you made today."
...
"Our choice was terrible, Natasha."
On the streets of Hell's Kitchen in New York, Neagley complained while looking at the pedestrians around them.
After wiping out the vampires from the Temple of Eternal Night, Reacher, Bucky, and Roscoe had taken Deacon away after Neagley altered his mories.
Apparently, they were contacting the person in charge of Karla's assets in New York before handling so other matters.
As for what exactly they were doing, Neagley did not ask.
She brought Natasha, Jessica, and Skye back to New York and found what looked like a pretty decent twenty-four-hour restaurant for a late-night al.
Then Neagley was stunned.
Because it turned out to be a fast-food chain.
The girls had enthusiastically picked things like McDonald's chicken strips, various fried foods, British cuisine, traditional Japanese dishes, and even Nordic and Eastern European food.
In the end, every single dish they ordered tasted awful.
The flavors were bizarre in every possible way, all of them practically impossible to swallow.
Every dish was equally terrible.
It left Neagley seriously wondering whether they had simply ordered wrong, or if every item in that restaurant chain tasted that bad.
Normally, Neagley was not picky about food. Coming from a military background, she had eaten plenty of bland als before.
But bland and disgusting were two completely different concepts.
Even pig feed tasted better than that garbage.
As a result, Neagley firmly blacklisted the entire restaurant chain in her mind.
"That was your choice, Neagley."
Natasha refused to take the bla. Clearly, Neagley had been the one who picked the restaurant, so how had it suddenly beco "our" choice?
"Okay, okay. My choice."
Neagley imdiately raised both hands in surrender, especially after noticing the looks Jessica and Skye were giving her. Very wisely, she changed the subject at once.
"So where are we supposed to find that purple bastard now?"
As they spoke, the four of them arrived in front of an apartnt building, and Jessica led the others inside.
"I think he's called the Purple Man, not a purple bastard," Skye corrected seriously.
She had t that strange and terrifying man before. His skin looked completely normal, and he was actually fairly handso. The only purple thing about him was the flashy suit he wore.
"I said purple bastard, so he's a purple bastard, you little brat."
Neagley got annoyed and imdiately pulled Skye into a headlock under her arm. Then she curled the middle finger of her other hand and viciously ground it against Skye's forehead.
"I was wrong! I was wrong! Please spare , Sister Neagley!"
The painful pressure on her head instantly made Skye give in. She struggled desperately while begging for rcy.
"Humph. You are not permitted to question Commander Neagley's words, Private Skye." Neagley finally released her grip, glaring fiercely at the girl as Skye rubbed her head.
User Comments
0 comments from readers