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Novel Catalog
Chapter_282
As the night deepened, the heavy atmosphere of tension seemed to stretch infinitely. The figures of Helena and Kai moved silently through the corridors, helping each other to steady their steps. The pain from their injuries was still fresh, and though their bodies were battered, their spirits refused to break. Nash watched them go, a faint shake of his head betraying his thoughts. If they hadn’t provoked me, they wouldn’t be in this mess, he mused. It was a harsh reality, but it was one they had brought upon themselves.
At the Jonford Ministry of Political Affairs, Henderson barged into Governor Jade‘s office, his face a mask of concern. “Governor, something’s happened!” he said, his voice trembling with anxiety.
Jade, his expression calm as always, placed his phone down and looked up, eyes narrowing. “What’s the fuss about?”
“A large number of private jets from all over the country have flown into Jonford today,” Henderson continued, his hands nervously clasping together. “We’re facing serious difficulties with air traffic control. Capiton also intends to cancel all flights departing from Jonford today!”
Henderson had never encountered such a situation, and the gravity of the moment weighed heavily on him. The influx of private jets seemed almost too strange to be coincidental.
But Governor Jade remained unfazed. “I just heard about it. We’ll do as Capiton wishes,” he said coolly.
Confused but willing to obey, Henderson hesitated before asking, “Is something important happening?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Just follow through as they ask,” Jade replied, his voice smooth, as if this was merely another routine matter.
In the General Administration Center of Capiton, a meeting was in full swing. Over thirty influential tycoons, all seated with varying expressions of curiosity and caution, waited for the man in the center of the room to speak. His aura was commanding, refined from years of leadership and influence.
“The Heavenly Martial Arts Order is assembling in Jonford,” the man said, his voice low and measured. “The Green Bamboo Association has mobilized their experts, obviously trying to deal with the person who issued the order. They probably didn’t expect to stir up this much trouble.”
A woman, sharp-eyed and elegant, leaned forward, her voice laced with concern. “Should we intervene?”
The man in the center, with a knowing smile, replied, “Why intervene? The Green Bamboo Association is a cancer that should’ve been eliminated long ago. It’s just a matter of waiting for the right moment.”
A hushed murmur rippled through the room, but then Judas, covered in bandages from recent encounters, spoke up, his voice tinged with surprise. “Could it be Nash? Francis claimed Nash to be his junior, and Jonathan was the one who created this order…”
The man in the main seat paused, then gave a sly smile. “No matter who it is, it’s all to our benefit. Weakening the Green Bamboo Association’s power is a win for us.”
The mood shifted subtly as the conversation moved from the looming confrontation in Jonford to something more personal. “On another note, do we have any idea about what happened last night? What have the ten families said about the kamikaze incident?”
A middle-aged man with graying hair spoke up, his voice guarded. “Nothing yet. Many of the families are refusing to even acknowledge the kamikazes.”
At this point, Judas turned his gaze toward a thin, elderly man in the corner. “FS Microbacteria is part of the development for the HIV antiretroviral drug, and the only ones with the capability to develop such an effective drug are the number one bio-experimental lab and Royal Biotech, which is owned by the Jacksons.”
The skinny old man stiffened. “You mean the Jacksons were behind the kamikazes last night?”
Judas sneered. “You know it better than I do, don’t you?”
The old man slammed his hand on the table, anger flashing in his eyes. “Deacon, think before you speak. You could easily offend someone with such accusations!”
Judas laughed, unbothered. “Look at him—getting nervous!”
The old man shot back, his face reddening. “How can I not be nervous when I’m being wrongly accused?”
At this, the general administrator’s sharp voice broke through the rising tension. “Enough.” His tone carried the weight of someone who had long been in power. “Focus on the investigation. Leave your personal issues at the door.”
Back in Royal Bay, Nash returned to his villa after his brief, intense encounter at the Dynasty Grand Hotel. As he entered, the sound of Yvonne’s voice drifted from the second floor. She was singing, but her voice faltered, caught in a high note she couldn’t manage.
“I once struggled in the vast world and was lost in its dreams… I didn’t distinguish between what was real and what was fake…” Yvonne sang loudly, but she broke off mid-verse with a sharp cough, clearly frustrated with herself.
“I once turned my youth into her—Ack! Nope, nope, I can’t sing anymore,” she said, her voice full of embarrassment as she set the microphone down.
Hearing her struggle, Hera grabbed the microphone with a soft smile. She picked up right where Yvonne had left off, her voice soothing and melodious.
“Taking short steps, pausing and moving on, we’ve covered a bit of distance… I don’t know if I’m telling a story or recreating a mood. Perhaps what we’re anticipating is simply being at odds with time…”
The contrast between the two women was stark—Yvonne’s voice loud and brash, while Hera’s was like a gentle lullaby. Nash leaned against the doorframe, a slight smile playing on his lips as he watched them, his thoughts momentarily drifting from the chaos around him.
In this world of hidden currents and unspoken power plays, even the most mundane moments held their own quiet significance.