Chapter 459: Confederacy Rebellion - 03

Daniel was about to sit down but couldn't find Greed anywhere. Asking Koyuki, he learned that Greed was taking a phone call in the restroom. He found her there, engaged in an intense conversation with someone from Liberty House.

"Are you crazy!? You're telling me that 40% of our ICBM interceptors are down due to lack of maintenance!?" she roared into the phone before listening to the other side. "I don't care who's responsible, even if they're dead there needs to be accountability. What...are you trying to tell me some shady company wants to take advantage of this and increase maintenance costs!?"

Daniel entered the restroom, and Greed noticed his presence. "Wait a moment," she said, putting the call on hold and turning to Daniel.

"Yes, dear? Is there anything you need?" she asked.

Daniel smiled and patted her head. "Relax," he said, "you don't need to worry about the nuclear threat from General Moore. I've got you covered." He then told her about the space station orbiting above the East Coast, equipped with an advanced ICBM interception system and a God Slayer Cannon.

Hearing this, Greed sighed in relief and excused herself to continue the phone call. She reassured Liberty House that Astral Tech had a space station with a highly advanced ICBM and missile interception system currently positioned above the Confederacy. However, she instructed them that this was classified information and must not be leaked.

Daniel waited for Greed at the dining table, and she soon joined them. However, Michaela's sulking and depression still bothered him, so he decided to intervene.

"Michaela," he called.

"Yes, My Lord?" the archangel responded, still dejected.

"If you want, you can come with me to the Confederacy and beat up that General Moore who interrupted your favorite drama..."

Michaela immediately brightened up and accepted Daniel's offer with overly enthusiasm. "As you wish, My Lord!" She seemed eager to vent her anger on General Moore. Daniel felt a twinge of pity for the man, but only a tiny little bit.

— Meanwhile - The Liberty House —

Within the meeting room, high-ranking officers and experts sat dejectedly. Suddenly, the double doors opened and the President walked in, flanked by several Secret Service agents.

The scene brought hope to the military officers and experts awaiting his arrival.

"Mr. President, what did the Queen say regarding this matter?" one of the experts asked. All present were members of President John Malcomes' inner circle, and they knew who truly held the reins of power.

"Wait a minute, let me check first," the President said, nodding to his Secret Service detail to sweep the room and politely ask everyone to turn off their phones.

After a few minutes, once everyone had complied, the President began. "Rest assured, Ms. Golwyn has informed us that Astral Tech has a space station specializing in ICBM interception currently orbiting above the East Coast. She assures us there's no way those nukes will reach their intended altitude."

Hearing the good news, the room erupted in a clamor of excitement and relief. Everyone present knew of Astral Tech's impressive technological advancements.

"This is easy then!" one General exclaimed. "Instead of retreating, we should push forward into their territory!"

"No!" another General countered. "We must be cautious. Remember the zombie virus incident? We don't know how many secret labs the Confederacy has. We need to consult CEO Cao before making any rash decisions."

The meeting continued with a spirited debate about the reclamation effort. They discussed hindsight, strategies for moving forward, cooperation with Astral PMC, and even purchasing Astral Tech's satellite technology or hiring them to build one for them.

In the midst of the discussion, one of the experts excused himself to go to the restroom.

However, instead of heading to the restroom, he walked to the parking lot, entered his car, and took out a hidden phone. He dialed a number, but the call wouldn't go through.

"Shit! What's wrong with the signal today?" he muttered. "If they don't receive the call soon, they're doomed!"

At that moment, the wrist he used to dial the phone vanished without warning. The sudden pain and shock of the amputation caused him to scream in agony.

"Arrrghhh! My hand!" he clutched his severed wrist, tears, snot, and saliva streaming down his face. Then, he noticed a dark silhouette sitting in the front passenger seat.

The figure's face and clothes were as black as night, as if cut from darkness itself. A miasma surrounded it, making it impossible to discern any features. This was a shadow morph, a mage who had modified their body to blend into shadows.

"Isn't this the Qing Dynasty embassy number?" the shadow morph spoke in a distorted voice.

"I see," the creature continued. "We need to have a long talk after this. Lord Albert said there might be a spy among us, but we never suspected you, an expert invited to this meeting. Now I'm curious how many Qing Empire spies are left." The shadow morph then pulled the expert into the darkness it had created.

The spy would need to be interrogated at the nearest information hub.

— Sometimes Later —

— East Coast - Secret Information Hub —

Albert sat in his private office at the information hub, overseeing his subordinates' efforts to instigate the rebellion. He was expecting a visitor.

The wooden door creaked open, and Cao Cao entered, his face a mask of annoyance. Though he knew from his lord that he was supposed to cooperate with Albert, the mage's behavior grated on him. Albert acted as if Cao Cao were his subordinate, and it irritated him to no end. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"Ah, Mr. Cao, please have a seat," Albert said. "Would you like some tea? It's afternoon tea time, after all. I apologize for not meeting you at your designated location, but I simply couldn't cancel my afternoon tea. It would be a bad habit to develop." He said this with an infuriatingly smug expression, which Cao Cao struggled to ignore.

"Get to the point, mage," Cao Cao demanded, his voice devoid of any politeness.

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