Chapter 190: Why Did They Come?

Chapter 190: Why Did They Come?

Translator: Nyoi-Bo StudioEditor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

She was sitting in a modern office, which had walls made of floor-to-ceiling glass and a panoramic view of half the city's scenery in the distance. Card artisans were often seen flying past the windows. The glass was one-way glass; the scenery outside could be seen perfectly from inside, while those outside couldn't see a thing inside. It was also strong enough to resist powerful energy attacks.

"This place of yours isn't bad," Butchie said. She was sitting very casually on a swivel chair in the middle of the office wearing a comfortable expression. There was no sign of the elegant and demure demeanor of a mature woman from a moment ago.

In front of her was a middle-aged man with a short beard wearing a white suit. He said to her with a laugh, "You're the same as ever. I've always thought the chief was wrong to want you to change you into a lady."

"I agree." Butchie nodded in full agreement and then leaned back and crossed her feet on the table with a very relaxed expression. Her black evening gown slid off nearly to her thighs to show her satiny, smooth, alluringly bare legs.

The short-bearded, middle-aged man sneered, "It looks as though all the chief's work these past few years has been wasted." But, then he thought of something and said with a light laugh, "I guess you haven't been having such a good time these past few years. You've had your fill of etiquette classes, ha, ha!" Then, seeming to remember something interesting, he smiled.

Butchie gave him a chilly look. "I hate the etiquette class, especially Old Lady Fei. She is simply one of the scariest creatures on Earth."

"I'm surprised. Why did the chief send you this time?" He had an expression of incomprehension as he said it.

Butchie retracted the unconcerned expression on her face and pulled back her long legs to sit up straight. "This is a very serious matter."

The short-bearded man was a little surprised. "Has something happened?"

"The chief says the situation has changed. We are to maintain our current foundation, and we need to expand outward." Butchie's tone was strong and direct. Her eyes flashed, and her expression was firm and dignified.

What she said gave the middle-aged man a jolt, and he couldn't hide the shock in his eyes. The chief hadn't said much, but a lot of information had come through what he did say.

"We have to take down the Central Island Firm, no matter how we do it. Their current research program would have a huge impact on what we do, and we must do whatever it takes to get it." Butchie looked very serious.

"Has the chief gotten some news?" the short-bearded, middle-aged man asked with suspicion. He had never known what program the Central Island Firm was advancing, which made him inwardly ashamed because he was responsible for Pomelo. In the end, it would be his dereliction that he hadn't become aware of it at all.

"You don't need to feel bad. The chief isn't trying to blame you. He just accidentally came across the information, so he sent me." Butchie's explanation was also to comfort the short-bearded, middle-aged man.

He suddenly thought of something and couldn't help but frown, saying, "Could those people be after the Central Island Project?"

"Right." Butchie lay back on the chair lazily with her recent neat and skillful look nowhere to be seen on her face anymore. She was muttering, "Those damned guys. Who knows where they came from? I thought they were going on vacation. Have you looked into that gang's background?"

The short-bearded, middle-aged man shook his head and said cautiously, "No. But, I sent someone to feel them out. They are quite powerful and have carefully kept themselves hidden. I've already reported on the matter. If they're our adversary, I won't have enough strength on hand."

"Oh, they already got your report upstairs," Butchie said with a deep voice. "You don't have to worry about strength. The chief will be sending us reinforcements after a few days."

The short-bearded, middle-aged man considered that before saying, "I'd like to know what our goal really is. What kind of program is it, and do I have sufficient authority? That sort of thing."

"Your authority extends to this level." Butchie sat up again and said sternly, "The chief got some information. The Central Island Firm is just now advancing a secret research project. It's an entirely new communications card, which uses a much better mode of communications than the one we have now. The most important thing is that it can be used in the outer reaches. You know how useful that is. And, it's been said they have already had a breakthrough."

The short-bearded, middle-aged man was even less able to keep still, his whole face showing disbelief as he subconsciously murmured, "This...how could this be?"

To be able to maintain communications in the outer reaches—of course he understood the practical value of that project. The thing that had been hindering humanity from expanding wasn't those powerful wild animals nor the sinister jungle; rather, it was that as soon as people entered the jungle, they would always lose their direction.

Moreover, large-scale teams basically had no way to enter the jungle. What blocked them was the issue of communication. Large-scale mobilizations could never work without some means for effective communication.

Up until then and all throughout history, the ones who had found the transit windows had all entered the jungle alone. Their deeds had a strong character of individual heroism that was memorable, though it was actually something they had no choice about.

There were myriad risks in the jungles of the outer reaches, but at the same time, there was boundless treasure and natural resources there. Over the course of history, there had been quite a few firms that had the notion of conquering the outer reaches. During the wildest period, there were even large firms composed of 200,000 card artisans who would enter the jungle. There were only 77 who ever returned from such activities alive. Ever since then, organizing such large numbers of card artisans had become less and less common. By now, there wasn't any firm likely to do such a foolish thing.

But, what would it mean if the Central Island Firm's project were to succeed?

That would mean they would be on the verge of an era of large-scale marches into the outer reaches! The current small-sized expeditionary teams would gradually decrease, and it would become an era for the organization and planning of large-scale expeditions.

Whoever could get hold of that technology would be at the forefront of the era. The short-bearded, middle-aged man's face had turned red and his breathing rapid as he became excited to understand the value of what it entailed.

And, even beyond the resources in the outer reaches were the transit windows!

Those portals to other worlds had always existed in the outer reaches; at least the transit windows connecting two regions in the federation had all been found in the outer reaches. It was set by federation law that whoever discovered a transit window would get ten percent of the tax on trade between the two districts for a period of 100 years, in addition to a huge bounty. There were other benefits beyond those, such as large numbers of preferential trading rights and so forth.

The ten percent of trade tariffs between two regions for a period of 100 years would be enough to excite any firm in the federation.

That was also why there were so many who wanted to brave mortal dangers to enter the jungle. Most of them—really 99 percent of them—would be buried in the jungle. But, the one or two lucky ones were enough to stimulate wave after wave of people plunging into the jungle.

Such news was invaluable to any firm. The short-bearded, middle-aged man couldn't help but honor the chief; such news about the Central Island Firm would have to be classified as top secret. It could be seen how well the Central Island Firm had protected its secrets since he hadn't previously heard the slightest word of it. And, for the chief to have gotten the news from 1,000 kilometers away would have to hit anyone with how well-connected the chief was.

Still, he had some sudden doubts. "Given the mediocre power of the Central Island Firm, how could they research such a communications technology?"

He knew something of the ins and outs of the Central Island Firm, and although it was a large firm, it was still a long way from the top firms of the Heavenly Federation. And, none of those top colossuses had made any progress with such a project. How would such a regional firm as the Central Island Group be able to achieve such results? If he hadn't known it was the chief who'd gotten the information, he would have certainly considered it fake news.

"I don't know either." Butchie shrugged charmingly. That simple, casual gesture was accompanied by a myriad of flirtatious looks.

The short-bearded, middle-aged man averted his gaze. He knew even he, who was so normally unmoved, would be provoked by that man-killer, who had been cultivated toward such mercurial temperament by the chief. There wouldn't have been one among the young talents who would have been able to turn a blind eye.

Thinking about Butchie surrounded by a gang of handsome men suddenly excited him, and a small smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. But, he wouldn't worry about Butchie's safety given his knowledge of her power.

* * *

Chen Mu was lying on the floor like a dead dog, his whole body soaked. He stared dumbly at the ceiling, his mind utterly blank. That training just then had sapped all his energy, and his brain was in a state of complete emptiness.

After a full ten minutes, he gradually came around. He struggled to stand, not seeing any sign of Wei-ah. He could see the closed door out of the corner of his eye, finding himself in a quiet-room. Chen Mu had always been curious about what Wei-ah would do in a quiet-room.

His entire body was limp, and he walked as though he were walking on a pile of cotton. The thing he needed most just then was rest, but unfortunately there was still something he had to take care of.

Bu Qiangdong had been waiting for him downstairs, having something very important to report. Without any recourse, Chen Mu put on his clothes and dragged his tired-to-death body off to listen to Bu Qiangdong's report.