At this moment, in the Gazalin Imperial Army Department, Admiral Gordon, the current top military officer, was standing with his hands behind his back, gazing out the window. It was unclear whether he was deep in thought or simply dazing.
The Gazalin Military Department is housed in a massive circular building that can accommodate a hundred thousand people for office work, located in the East District of the capital, Tanville. It’s the largest building in a country that values the military and royal power above all else. From Admiral Gordon’s office window, there seemed to be no particularly picturesque sights, except for a small hill and a winding road on it.
Admiral Gordon’s Chief Confidential Secretary had been quietly standing nearby for a long time. He could never understand why the General always liked to stand here gazing at the hill with a hint of green and the road frequented almost exclusively by military vehicles. Since moving into this office that previously belonged to Russell, he had developed this habit. Since the first Chief Confidential Secretary who interrupted him while he was viewing the scenery had been severely reprimanded, no one dared to interrupt him again while he stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.
The Chief Confidential Secretary sneakily glanced at his watch. He had been standing here with this eccentric General for a full half-hour, and half an hour later, he had to prepare for a meeting, which made him somewhat anxious. Admiral Gordon finally snapped out of his deep thoughts, turned to look at the uneasy secretary and said, "Has the message been returned?"
The Chief Confidential Secretary nodded respectfully, pulled out a document from the folder in his hand, and placed it on Gordon’s desk, saying, "Yes, General! Hopkins has failed."
Gordon was stunned and asked incredulously, "What! He failed?"
The Chief Confidential Secretary stood there quietly and solemnly said, "Yes, General!"
Gordon was lost in thought for a moment. He took a sip of tea from his cup, picked up the file on the desk, and said in a calm tone, "This message was sent back by him, right? Let him continue to look for opportunities, No. 2 will cooperate with his actions."
The Chief Confidential Secretary hesitated a bit, finally stammering, "General, Hopkins is dead. No. 2 was also exposed and failed the mission."
With a crash, the antique porcelain teacup in Gordon’s hand fell to the ground and shattered. He stared at the Chief Confidential Secretary with an incredulous look and exclaimed, "Dead! Did you say he is dead?"
The Chief Confidential Secretary couldn’t meet his gaze and lowered his head in fear. Silence was also a form of answer.
Gordon’s anger surged, and he slammed the table, shouting, "I’m asking you! Is Hopkins dead?" The Chief Confidential Secretary trembled in fright, stood at attention, and said, "Yes, General!"
Gordon sank into his chair, muttering, "How is that possible, how is that possible! He was the second-ranked sniper in the world!"
Suddenly, he swiftly asked, "How did he die?"
The Chief Confidential Secretary pointed to the file in Gordon’s hand and answered, "According to the message sent back by No. 1, he died in a sniper duel. The exact cause of death is unknown. The person who killed him is... Variable."
"Variable?" Gordon shot to his feet and exclaimed, "Which Variable?"
The Chief Confidential Secretary nodded and said, "Yes, General."
Gordon, somewhat dazed, said, "That Variable is just a lieutenant, he... Damn it, how many times has it been! Does the Royal Family know?"
The Chief Confidential Secretary replied, "Yes, General. The Royal Family is already aware!"
Gordon was silent for a while before saying, "Announce the news of Hopkins’s death on the sniper site, along with the information about his opponent!" He suddenly smiled and added, "The snipers ranked behind him will not allow this unknown to stay ahead of them. Leave this Variable to them!" Follow current novels on ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt
The Chief Confidential Secretary stood in awe and said, "Yes, General!"
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It was apparent that the place Milan was taking Fatty was not the Simai Hotel, but a large warehouse located in the West District of Gallipalan on a secluded little street.
The warehouse covered tens of thousands of square meters, standing over thirty meters tall, occupying an entire side of the street. The outer walls looked quite dilapidated, covered in climbing plants which made it seem even older. However, it was bustling with activity inside, with a constant stream of people coming and going. Upon entering the warehouse, Fatty realized the construction cost of this warehouse was no less than a high-rise building. The materials used were top-notch, the walls were solid, likely thick enough to withstand missiles, and the dozens of super-alloy arch beams over a hundred meters long used for the roof were not something ordinary warehouses could afford.
Fatty secretly marveled at who was so extravagant to build such a large warehouse. Turning to look at the main wall of the hall separated from the rest, he saw several prominent characters: Invincible Mechanical Repair and Modification Center.
"Wow, a cow taking an airplane!" Fatty thought the center’s owner was definitely a madman blowing fiercely at a cow. Milan pulled the curious Fatty deeper inside. This center, which appeared to be a warehouse on the outside, had two floors inside. The passageways were spacious and bustling with various people, including young people with hair dyed in various colors, serious office workers in suits, and wealthy individuals surrounded by bodyguards and beautiful women. In other passages separated by wire fences, flying cars and private mechas were lining up to enter the center’s repair workshop.
It seemed this center had quite some capability. As Fatty followed Milan to the central hall, he was instantly breathless. In this thirty-meter-high hall, resembling a gigantic gymnasium, were densely displayed various private mechas and flying cars. What interested Fatty most was that these private mechas were no longer in their factory-original state, showing clear modification marks. Many new materials and technologies had been applied to these mechas.
Now he understood why Milan had brought him here. For the modification of [Logic], the private mechas here provided significant reference, especially in close combat and burst speed. Private mecha modification had far surpassed military mecha in these aspects. This was due to the differing development and research paths of these two types of mechas, not because of any deficiency in military mecha research capability.
Fatty and Milan researched almost every human-shaped mecha clockwise, discussing their performance and modification level. The hall was crowded, so they didn’t notice that someone had been following them with keen interest, pretending to be very attentive to the mecha parameters while eavesdropping on their conversation.
Fatty had a passion for mecha design and research, showing great interest in anything mechanical, while Milan, already involved in this field, loved it because Fatty did. The two held hands like a pair of lovers shopping, engrossed in their observation when suddenly, a quarrel broke out nearby.
I apologize to everyone for only updating five thousand words today. This Chapter was rushed tonight as my wife’s grandmother is having a surgery tomorrow, a major one. She’s 77 years old and not in good spirits, so the family is all at the hospital accompanying her.
(To be continued, for more details, please visit WWW.CMFU.COM. Support the author, support legitimate reading!)