“Damn it!” Damian shouted in annoyance when he realized he had entered the food storage refrigerator.“But this isn't the smell of animal carcasses,” said the man after sharpening his sense of smell again because he knew that the rotten and fishy smell he was smelling was not the smell of animal carcasses but of other living creatures.Curious, Damian immediately tried to explore the place. Fortunately, he could still withstand the temperature inside the giant refrigerator, so the low temperature did not prevent him from exploring the place.Damian's attention was now focused on a small room refrigerator. The room was covered by a wall, and Damian accidentally kicked the wall button.The button was located at the bottom, covered by refrigerator snow, so if you weren't paying attention, you could trip over it like he did.Now Damian immediately entered the colder place without hesitation. Damian saw that there was a lot of luxurious food stored there, but that wasn't what caught his at

“It seems you want to die,” said the man coldly and began to pull the trigger of the gun in his hand.Damian, who couldn't stay still, immediately opened the door to the room. “Wait, he's Mr. R's henchman!” Damian shouted, causing everyone to immediately turn their attention to him.“Who are you? Why are you here? Or could it be that you're his accomplice?” said one of the criminals, pointing a gun at Damian.Now their target had shifted to Damian, but Damian remained calm.“Hey, buddy, what are you talking about? How could an intruder get into this place?” Damian asked casually as he walked in, and the men now pointed all their guns at him.“Wealth Always Wins,” Damian said, mentioning the password to enter the place.“What other proof do you have that you are the person Mr. R ordered?” asked the other, remaining alert even though Damian had successfully said the code to enter the place."My cell phone is dead right now, but if you can, contact Mr. R directly and ask him if he knows

Damian returned with hurried steps. He was breathing heavily, cold sweat beading on his temples even though the air in the underground passage was so cold. His heart was still reeling from what he had found, but one determination dominated his thoughts: he had to save those children because he remembered his little daughter and he couldn't imagine what it would be like if she were the victim of the cruelty of all those bastards.As soon as he entered the detention room again, his gaze immediately fell on Megan, who was still sitting in front of the bars. She calmed the children with a soft voice, trying to smile even though her face was pale.“Morgan,” Megan turned quickly, relieved and worried at the same time. “What did you find?” she asked with a serious look because it was unusual for Damian to express himself like that.Damian raised his hand, signaling her to be quiet. His gaze swept over the faces of the children behind the bars, then stopped at a small figure in the corner.A

The atmosphere on the upper deck turned into a sea of cheers and tears. Cameras focused on children being carried by soldiers, reporters' voices piercing the air.“This is real evidence!”“The biggest scandal of the century!”“The world must see this!”Damian was still standing in his strategic position, “Morgan's” face clearly visible in every camera lens. But in the crowd, light footsteps could be heard approaching. Jolie appeared, her hand holding little Cherry's. The child looked tired, her eyes puffy, but there was a faint sense of relief on her face.Jolie bowed respectfully, then looked at Damian with a sincerity she rarely showed anyone.“Thank you,” she said softly, almost drowned out by the hustle and bustle around them. “If it weren't for you, my daughter and I might not be standing here.”Damian glanced over, a thin, controlled smile on his lips. “I was just a witness,” he replied flatly. “It was your own courage that saved you.”But in his heart, Damian knew that this wom

The official nodded slightly, but his pupils narrowed. He was never truly at peace with his allies; people like him were only comfortable on the side of the mirror. “Finish the narrative,” he said. “We drive out grief, we leave behind the evidence we choose.”Damian wiped the rim of his glass, a movement that looked like a nervous habit to the camera, but it was the second trigger.On the deck, two palm-sized drones released microcapsules: not grenades, not gas, but frequency reflectors. Within seconds, the shadow army's internal signals were filled with noisy echoes. Their radios hissed, earpieces choked with static. It wasn't just deafening coordination.But Damian had not yet given the signal to attack. It was not yet time.He stepped halfway forward, his face set in a grim expression, but his voice now clearer. “You want the headline?” he said, turning to the row of microphones. “Take it. Write that Morgan lost. Write that you won.”The reporters, especially those who weren't his,