Chapter 781:

Rylie, who had long worked with arms and munitions, had handled an enormous variety of ordnance throughout her career. She knew the market’s bombs and missiles intimately, and with Ares Global as the chief rival, she was familiar with nearly every weapon in circulation, except for anything she had never encountered before.

Pausing to measure her words, Rylie admitted, “I need the full footage of the salvage and several close-up photographs. Can you obtain them?”

Brock considered the request for a beat, then agreed on the spot. “It will be difficult, but I can arrange it. Have you found something wrong with the wreck?”

Rylie nodded and said, “There are inconsistencies here; I need more data to confirm my thought. And remember—keep this between us and do not tell anyone else.”

Brock inclined his head and replied, “Understood.”

As word spread, and before the inquiry reached any conclusion, Brad was inevitably suspended from duty.

With sudden time on his hands, he now carried the stigma of being branded “a coward who shunned danger.” Misinformed voices online claimed that this was a pattern, accusing him of always avoiding conflict.

Although the rumors were quickly muted, they had already rippled through high society, tarnishing his image.

In that moment, Brad’s once-unshakable aura of authority seemed to crack.

Not long after, Rylie received a message from Brock. He had secured detailed photographs of the Everswell from the government and asked where they should meet.

Rylie gave him the address of a bar and, at the same time, sent word to Sweetberry’s staff, inviting them for drinks and music at this bar, which she had reserved for the evening, where they could also finalize their travel plans.

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She chose Sweetberry’s gathering as a discreet chance to gather information, avoiding unnecessary suspicion.

Although newly opened, the bar had already become a bustling destination where crowds of young patrons flocked to eat, drink, and lose themselves in merriment.

Abandoned by her mother and cast aside by society, Paola no longer held any prospects of marrying into a prominent household.

With her hopes shattered, she drifted idly from one bar to the next. When Mylo heard of her plight, a flicker of pity stirred in him, and he invited her to accompany him to the bar.

Paola had little regard for Mylo, dismissing him as immature and far from the refined gentleman she envisioned. Still, upon hearing that he had also invited the Buckley heir, she relented, allowing a faint spark of hope to rise again.

She dressed with painstaking attention, but the instant she stepped into the bar, she collided with a man carrying two drinks.

Under the muted glow, one glass tipped, splashing across her.

Already simmering with frustration, she lashed out at once. “Can’t you watch where you’re going? Are you blind?”

Lenny steadied himself, casting a glance at the liquid trailing down his hands, and said evenly, “You were the one who ran into me.”

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