He walked over to the window, pulled back the curtain, and looked down. Sure enough, he saw a man standing below, wearing a suit in the middle of the night. Who the hell dresses up like that now?
Suddenly, the other man raised his head and smiled at him.
Ethan's face twitched, "Got it, I'm coming down now."
He turned off the shredder, glanced at the knick-knacks, and then went downstairs.
At the door, he sized up the other person, "I don't know you, sir."
"I'm from the North."
Major General Ethan Hunt furrowed his brows, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Drug traffickers are fucking bastards." The man suddenly burst out with this line.
Ethan's eyes lit up at that statement.
"Victory belongs to Victor!"
This was actually a code...
Drug traffickers wouldn't curse themselves, surely, only a 'Divine' being could fail to realize that.
"I'm Harry Hart, head of the Special Mission Intelligence Division, ordered to take you home, Major General Ethan, the General hasn't forgotten you."
Ethan was startled but quickly became teary-eyed.
I haven't served that fat pig Blanco for nothing, nor flaunted my beauty in vain!
Sure enough, he knew it, every tear cried into the pillow every night wasn't shed in vain.
That's a high rank in the military.
"I've already prepared our escape route, let's go," Harry Hart said.
Major General Ethan Hunt nodded hurriedly; why wait to die here when you could run? It was just a pity that he had been undercover for so long.
"Hold on..." he suddenly said, his gaze turning fierce, "Before we go, let's send those drug traffickers a gift. How many bombs do you have prepared?"
Harry Hart was a question mark, but Ethan whispered a few words in his ear.
The former's eyes immediately sparkled, and he gave a thumbs up in praise.
Only he could come up with such a ruthless plan.
Major General Ethan Hunt nodded and watched him leave before returning inside. He looked at the two nannies, smiled, and pondered, "Take two months off."
"Ah? Sir, what did we do wrong, please don't fire us."
"Yes, sir, we'll definitely change," the two nannies said excitedly.
Ethan shook his head with a smile, "No worries, I just need to travel for a bit. This house will be given up, and when I come back, we'll find a new place. Rest assured, I'll look for you when I return." Pulling out US Dollars, he handed them over, "Here's your salary for the next two months. You won't be without work."
"Alright, off to bed now."
The two nannies looked at each other, relieved as long as they weren't being sacked. Even though they found it strange, they obediently went back to their rooms.
Outside, the moon slowly grew larger in the deep night. Good night to you.
Early the following morning.
The Southern building.
Also known as the administrative hall where they work.
After establishing their own nation, these drug traffickers started to 'whiten' themselves up. They couldn't always discuss state affairs at nightclubs, right?
They orderly bought a building, then set up offices inside, hired security guards, and established entry and exit procedures.
And they even stipulated that work started at nine in the morning, with a two-hour lunch break, and they clocked out at six in the evening. Dinner was even provided in the cafeteria.
Much better than some capitalist dogs.
When Prime Minister Abrego arrived at work early in the morning and entered his office, he saw the latest newspaper and a small gift box on his desk with a note: Happy birthday, my dear.
Today was indeed his birthday.
In Yucatan, he indeed had quite a few mistresses but who would go to such lengths to send him a gift?
Numerous names flashed through his mind.
Jesia, Peleine, Oddo, Cabran, Aisha...
Many of them were minor celebrities. If you want to become famous, you've got to find a sugar daddy, and with his overwhelming power and influence, naturally, many people would flock to him.
But, being cautious by nature, he made a call to security to ask who delivered the package.
"A woman, very beautiful, with long hair."
Abrego was instantly reminded of someone. Hearing it was a woman, he subconsciously relaxed. The greatest strength of humans is their associative thinking, and preconceptions—the notion that it must have been one of his mistresses sending the gift took hold.
It seems that he hadn't been spending money for nothing, and his heart felt unexpectedly warm.
At least they were still thinking of him.
With that thought, he unwrapped the package, eager to see what was inside.
As soon as he opened it...
A massive explosion sounded. The windows next to him shattered, a shockwave surged outwards, debris littered the ground, and many workers below sharply looked up.
Instantly, their drowsiness vanished.
Then a chilling realization hit them. Something had happened!
Now it wasn't just his heart that felt warm but his body too.