Chapter 167 Partner
March 3rd.
13:23:52.
Eighteen hours after the spread of the "Gospel of Heaven" infection area.
Hebrew reorganized the various special weapons that Eoubs had given them, and even brought out their private collections, saying that they should also see the world. They also reviewed the usage rate of their own permissions, such as the distress procedure and satellite communication function, so that if things went wrong halfway through, they would not have anyone to clean up the mess. If a large number of B-level weapons were deployed and failed, they would probably all be dead before support arrived.
Ever since he learned that Stanford would be accompanying him, this man had been complaining for a long time, and the whole resource warehouse had become too noisy... He didn't really want anyone as a partner, assistant, or companion to whom he could entrust his life, but judging from the trend and arrangements... it seemed that they should be like that.
By this point, the reinforcement meeting had concluded—representatives from branches across all continents had participated, and they'd even signed waivers before setting off, the kind that promise life or death, but there hadn't been any casualties yet. After this lengthy selection process, about twenty more high-ranking officials died for various reasons, not including those who disappeared without a trace. It seems the Eoubs leadership was unusually busy—thanks to Roy, everyone was busy getting rid of the incompetent ones.
Of course, as the last batch of reinforcements, they didn't have a moment's rest. Not only were their main tasks packed with various additional tasks, but their itinerary was also filled with tasks such as retrieving 2407's live specimens, searching for all recyclable contraband, and finding the missing operatives.
After all, in this world, they are ultimately just knives used by the powerful and wealthy, only disguised as living people.
In addition, as key figures in the US-Africa joint operation, they also received many offers from other divisions, especially the Hebrews.
The liaison officer would first help them filter out the branches with poor resources and strength. The remaining ones were the ones they should not refuse... or rather, the ones they absolutely could not refuse. Running field missions was a notoriously bad job in the Eoubs circle. If you didn't do it, someone else would be scrambling to take it. It was like being a mercenary, with absolutely no professional ethics.
Some of the tasks demanded by the higher-ups were simply the recovery of other operatives' wreckage, while others were utterly unscrupulous.
Stanford had seen a lot during his lifetime, and Hebrews had seen even more. In his words, "I'm fucking handsome, so it's understandable that I encountered some perverts."
In response, the liaison officer simply took a deep breath to prevent himself from fainting from a blood pressure spike: "Friendly reminder, both of you are key assets that Eoubs is cultivating, especially you, Hebrew. There's a high possibility that you might be forced into bed by some old woman one day. Moreover, we've suffered huge personnel losses recently, and the higher-ups are already planning to implement some kind of fertility worship scheme, so this is a problem that needs to be taken seriously."
He paused, then added, "Of course, if you're unlucky, it could also be a man."
This liaison officer, who has served for seven years, always speaks very clearly on that topic.
They'd known each other for almost five years when Hebrew finally realized that even Eoubs had taken back the guy's name; everyone just called him the liaison. He also knew that this guy had ended up here because his entire family had been killed by a forbidden substance. He'd complained a few times before that he'd clearly stated on his employment documents that he refused any work related to operatives, but because of relevant policies and good performance reviews, he'd been assigned to the Transport Department and the Operations Department. Apparently, those idiots who approved the documents hadn't paid any attention to what the new employee said.
He never actively sought out the operatives. During his first year on the job, a colleague assured him that he would like these guys who had survived life-or-death situations. He tried it and became even more certain that he could never accept those lunatics.
Now, however, he has to drink several large glasses of strong liquor with a potent kick and cut himself every morning before he can start working.
But it's nothing, everyone chooses to get through it this way and gets used to it.
The liaison officer turned to look at Hebrew, his expression returning to seriousness.
"The tasks that the next two will be carrying out are very important."
"Excuse my bluntness... but to hell with all that stuff for now. I suggest you figure out how to control the spread of 2407 first."
"Complete the retrieval mission while ensuring your own safety. If you encounter operatives from other divisions, do not engage in conflict."
"Your mission requirements are basically the same, so unless absolutely necessary... it's best to avoid internal strife."
His gaze was somewhat solemn. Not everyone treated human life as insignificant as the high-ranking members of the council; at least... at least a few people still had a bottom line.
“We have too little intelligence. The target is a giant spatial entity that possesses consciousness and is considered taboo. There will be some deviation in spacetime within the core infected area. You may encounter ‘kindred spirits’ who are not at the same point in time, but it remains to be determined whether they are hostile to us.”
The two waited for the liaison officer to continue, but Stanford didn't say a word from beginning to end. He just kept flipping through the records and documents, but there was no useful information in them at all.
"To be honest, Eoubs had no clue how to retrieve it or how to control the target. After all, it's a newly emerging forbidden substance... In short, don't make things too ugly, it's useless."
He thought for a long time before saying this.
Hebrew was putting chocolate into his mouth, clearly thinking about something else.
He said to the liaison officer, "Okay, okay, got it. Then we'll try our best to avoid any trouble in Siberia, only dealing with other people—those idiots from different nodes—who will kill us and then happily go to hell together."
The other person immediately sat up straight, alert, and raised their voice several octaves: "What are you trying to do now?"
“Your words are quite hurtful. I was just wondering what would happen if someone deliberately made things difficult for me,” Hebrew said, feigning a sad expression.
"Hey bro, can you stop acting like you're living the high life!"
He could only force a smile and raise his hands in surrender. Stanford suddenly glanced at him, thinking that this guy was still determined to find those 'kindred spirits' after he was put in there—his thoughts were written all over his face: Damn it, it's not you who are going to die, yet you ask for so much. It's like your whole family is going to die.
Regardless of what anyone thinks, what they did in the past, or what they are going to do now, Eoubs continues to operate. It has developed to the point where, whether you like it or not, you will be swept up in the tide of that lofty ambition for the future of humanity and march together toward a crazy future.
The liaison officer repeatedly emphasized not to make trouble for himself and also told Stanford to keep a close eye on Hebrews—it would be a miracle if he could keep an eye on him—but he still verbally agreed.
As the delivery program started, he received a phone call. Just before their consciousness faded, they only heard him sigh and say something to the other person.
"I'm going to commit suicide after I finish this year's work. I just can't live like this."
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