darkroom
Bobby Thornton's funeral was held at the same upscale funeral home, but it wasn't as grand as Tate Dale's.
Milo accompanied Miles to the event, but getting in was easy, getting out was difficult. Multiple media outlets, sensing the opportunity, rushed to capture photos of Steven's presence, instantly crowding the passageway outside the venue. However, many inside were also there to probe the veracity of the rumors about the suddenly emerging illegitimate heir.
Miles was extremely troubled by this.
With the tabloid reporters blocking their way through the car window, Milo suggested, "Are you going back to the company today?"
Miles rubbed his temples wearily and said, "I have an appointment with the Thornton Group tonight."
Milo reminded them, "The other party's assistant called an hour ago to say that something came up and they had to cancel."
Miles chuckled dismissively: "They're certainly cautious enough. With Blaise here, they don't even dare to meet me anymore."
The Dale Group has split into two factions. One faction, led by Miles, advocates for the acquisition of Lianhua Machinery, while the older faction, led by Blaise, is unwilling to use a large amount of money to take over a scandal-ridden company. More importantly, with Blaise around, they prefer to bypass business competition and take shortcuts to indirectly force the other party to its death, and then reap the benefits for free.
“A bunch of idiots.” Miles felt contempt for those who were greedy and bound by convention.
Milo glanced at Miles's expression and seized the opportunity to speak: "Can I go back to the store?"
Miles leaned back in his chair: "Turn on your phone, don't lose contact with me." Before Milo could speak, he continued, "After 6 p.m., make an appointment for Kevin from Kangtai Company, book a private room at Genting Highlands, and send me the time and place."
After saying that, Miles closed his eyes to rest.
Harold drove steadily, and Milo only exchanged brief glances with him in the rearview mirror before they quickly looked away.
The car came to a smooth stop at Milos's shabby little shop and then drove off. Miles had been busy day and night, and wouldn't have a moment of rest these past few days.
After booking the room, Milo took out his key and opened the door.
The same tattered wind chime still hangs by the door.
The moment the door closed, a figure emerged from the shadows, startling Milo.
"Could you..." Milo swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to ask someone with a flawed perception of the world to do what he wanted, and he also felt there was no need to say anything more to him.
It would be better for them to be straightforward.
Blaze, sitting on the cot in the dark room, had changed out of his overly formal suit and was dressed simply. He was tilting his head slightly, quietly waiting to hear what Milo had to say next.
“It’s nothing.” Milorad pulled up a chair and sat down. “Does Sigon know you’re here?”
Blaise nodded.
Milo chuckled: "He knows you're following me... What if one day I suddenly get beheaded by Chatchai or Hesei?"
Blaise frowned and gestured to indicate: I'm here with you.
It means that as long as he's around, that's impossible.
Milo did not refute this; it was the truth.
Blaze killed Meng Sha to expedite the completion of Xigong's plan. Ultimately, the mission was accomplished, and exchanging freedom was a normal occurrence—this was likely a long-standing trade arrangement between them. As long as nothing major happened, Milo didn't want to interfere much in Blaze's relationship with Xigong; as long as Blaze was by his side and it benefited him, that was enough.
Milo held out his hand to Blaise: "Where's what I wanted?"
Blaze pulled an encrypted USB drive from his pocket. Milo skillfully pulled out the assembled machine from the hidden compartment, imported the data, and began rapidly browsing Dragon Financial's internal documents.
Blaze sat to one side, quietly watching Milo's profile illuminated by the screen's light. It was an expression of intense focus, concentration, even seriousness. He had never seen such an expression before; it was as if he were seeing again that once unfamiliar, unreachable presence within him.
Like a god high above.
Always know a lot and know a lot.
“Do you know what we are now? Two corporate spies stealing information.” Milo suddenly chuckled self-deprecatingly. “But we’ve even killed and buried the body together, so what’s this little thing?”
Blaze slowly moved closer to Milo and gestured: What else can I do to help you?
Milo looked at him: "What you need to do is to stop Miles from acquiring Lianhua Machinery as much as possible. When people feel pressured, they panic and act recklessly, which makes them more prone to making mistakes."
Blaise nodded.
After a long silence, Milo stopped clicking the mouse and looked at Blaise, who was waiting silently to the side: "Steven asked me a lot of 'whys' before he died. Aren't you going to ask me?"
Blaise shook his head.
Milo looked into his eyes: "You're afraid, you asked, that we can't even maintain our current relationship, is that right?"
Blaise remained silent.
Milo looked away, chuckled, and murmured, "Don't worry, we're in the same boat now. Whatever we do, we're all in this together."
Upon hearing this, Blaise's eyes flickered.
“Come on, I’ll take you somewhere.” Milo closed his laptop, turned his chair around, placed his hands on Blaise’s shoulders, and ran his fingertips along the tattoo on Blaise’s neck. He said with a slight headache, “This one is too conspicuous.”
Blaze instinctively pressed his hand to his neck, which caught Milo's fingers. Their eyes met, and Milo understood the expression in Blaze's eyes. He then sat up and straddled Blaze's lap, his fingertips tracing the skin behind Blaze's ear before firmly kissing the tattoo on his neck.
There was a freshly scabbed welt there, a welt from the whipping he received, both old and new.
The tip of the tongue can glide over and touch the newly grown pink flesh.
Blaze was a little disoriented from the kiss, his Adam's apple bobbing. He couldn't help but reach under Milo's clothes and slip his hand inside. Just as he was about to swim up, Milo grabbed him and held him down.
Then, a whispered, intimate voice reached his ear, as soft as a feather: "Don't let anyone follow me, can you do that?"
Blaise turned his head to the side, his high nose bridge lightly touching Milo's chin, and sweat mingled together, reminding him of the mingling of bodily fluids.
At this thought, ripples of emotion stirred within him, but Blaze gradually learned to suppress his feelings. He knew Milo would have things to do later, so he slightly turned away, avoiding the intimate contact that made his heart flutter.
Blaise gestured earnestly: You can do it.
Milo smiled and said, "It's so good to have you."
Blaze felt those words melt like butter in his ears, and together with Milo's subsequent kiss, they turned into an indescribable sweetness.
*
The church bar was brightly lit, and a melodious Spanish tune floated in the air.
Two figures, one tall and one short, entered the store. In a corner where no one was paying attention, the door to the staff room was quietly pushed open.
In the warehouse filled with miscellaneous goods, a middle-aged man with graying temples pushed open the door and counted the number of bottles. Hearing the noise, he straightened up and looked at the person who came in.
“Old Ruan.” Milo stopped.
Blaze appeared from behind him, instinctively glancing around.
Old Ruan frowned the moment he saw Blaise, but he couldn't say much. He could only sigh, get up, and push open an inconspicuous hidden door in the storage room: "Come in and talk."
Blaze suddenly realized what was happening and gestured to Milo: Is this yours?
“It’s mine,” Milo said calmly. “There are many other things that are mine too, and you’ll find out as time goes on.”
The Church of St. John's Bar opened four years ago in a commercial district, prioritizing a unique ambiance over size. Business was dismal for the first two years, only gradually improving in the following two. While countless businesses in the surrounding area closed, this bar remained a constant success. It's unclear how much money was poured into keeping it afloat.
Blaze suddenly realized where Milo had spent all the money Miles had given him. There must have been some complicated process involved, otherwise Miles would have noticed long ago. As for this old Vietnamese mercenary… the bar was probably registered under his name; he not only provided protection but also helped run the business. Blaze couldn't help but wonder, what was this man's background that made Milo trust him so much?
Inside the dark room was a huge screen wall, with countless data cables connecting to the central screen.
Blaze stepped forward and saw a spiderweb-like diagram, embedded with Chinese characters in blocky font like ants, but he could vaguely make out a few familiar Chinese names. His name had its own branch that extended infinitely, while Steven's branch ended abruptly.
Blaise gestured: You don't need to show me these things.
Old Ruan stood silently to the side, while Milo spoke up: "It's necessary. I said, we're not different now."
Blaise felt a jolt in his heart. He walked up to the large screen and couldn't help but gesture to indicate: Actually, you don't have to wait this long.
If it was to use him, why wait until now? Why endure so much torment? The moment they met at the funeral home, if Milo had simply revealed his identity, Milo would have stood by him through thick and thin.
“Identity records, blood tests… everything proves that Theo Green is dead, didn’t you think so too? The person standing in front of you now is actually a socially dead man,” Milo said calmly. “I’m surrounded by eyes, so I have no way to leave Wudong Port on my own. A year ago, you came here, and I heard those rumors, so I was sure you would be my chance. But do you think I would gamble everything, just because of a few interactions more than ten years ago, that you would help me no matter what? Only a madman would do that.”
Blaze understood instantly. Just as no one understood why he was so obsessed with Theo Green, even Theo Green himself found it absurd. That's why Milo risked lying in wait by his side, testing him time and time again, to confirm how much of that supposedly divine affection was real and whether it was valuable.
His love was certainly valuable. Now he saw it; it could be weighed and converted within Milo's intricate plans.
So frank, so... hurtful.
Blaze forced a smile, then looked at Milo's face, and the disappointment in his heart quickly disappeared.
That's always been the case; if someone has no value, they wouldn't be alive in this world.
He was willing to do things for Milo.
Milo was already standing in front of the screen, sliding the character lines above, picking out a point, dragging it out, and connecting it to the newest line.
"Old Ruan, this man is the former purchasing manager of Lianhua Machinery. We can get the list of Lianhua Machinery's core suppliers and payment loopholes from him. Several of them involve Longjin Financial Health. Tomorrow, anonymously leak this information to Business Weekly."
As he spoke, Milo turned to Blaise and said, "Once this gets out, it will definitely implicate Longjin Financial Health. At that time, you should use the pretext of protecting the group's reputation to demand a public investigation. Since you are in the same company, this will put Miles in a war of attrition, forcing him to make a passive clarification. He is the kind of person who prefers to ignore things without evidence, so I will send you a separate, complete chain of self-evidence. When the time is right, you can release this self-evidence to salvage the group's reputation. This way, it can also indirectly help you establish yourself in the group."
Blaise understood, but not quite, and gestured to ask: You don't want Thornton Group's companies to be swallowed up?
Milo lowered his eyes and said calmly, "I want to, but like everyone else, I want to skin it alive before swallowing it whole. I not only want to devour Lotus Machinery, but I also want to cripple Miles and make him suffer unbearable pain."
Upon hearing the last sentence, Blaise was startled.
Did Milo actually hate Miles?
From his perspective on Theo Green, if Steven deserved to die simply to avenge the Green family, then Miles, who saved his life, should not be resented.
Blaze felt a vague unease just thinking about it. Why was it Miles who saved Theo Green? Six years together, every little detail, and he was genuinely afraid that Milo's heart would lean towards Miles.
What exactly happened after that fire six years ago? Who created those false testimonies that even he couldn't verify?
Countless questions raced through Blaise's mind, yet they all remained stuck in his throat. He vaguely understood that a clear yet hidden boundary existed between him and Milo. Once he tried to cross it, dared to reach into that hidden place in Milo's heart, it would be the end for them.
Milo might harbor resentment towards Miles. This resentment is intense, inexplicable, and could easily escalate.
And what about him? He could sense that Milo didn't hate him; the strongest emotion she seemed to feel was fear. Neither hate nor love, just useful—a tool that could feel fear but was undeniably useful.
Old Ruan's voice suddenly rang out, interrupting Blaze's wandering thoughts.
"There's breaking news."
Milo and Blaise both looked over at the sound.
Almost everyone in the church bar was looking down at their phones at the same time.
News media throughout Wudong Port rushed to report and reprint this major news that was destined to cause a huge uproar.
[Breaking News] Son of wealthy Lanman businessman murdered abroad; body found in Tengbangchira River.
The eye-catching news headline was accompanied by a photo of a floating corpse, which had swollen to a deathly pale due to excessive blood loss and washing. The face and neck were blurred, but the sacred dove tattoo on the back of the hand was unusually conspicuous.
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