Maisie Joyce’s warning about serious consequences was not an empty threat.
Keith Preston quickly had his soldiers hand a letter to each of the four Clan Leaders present—from the Wu, Kong, Fang, and Zhang families—as well as to Henry Chase.
To be precise, they were pledges.
The signatories were either the second or third-in-command of each family. As for Henry Chase, his was signed by his deputy division commander, Victor Caldwell.
As for the five ministers, Maisie Joyce wasn’t worried.
As long as she secured Colin Koenig, the others were insignificant. It would be good if they obeyed, but it didn’t matter if they didn’t. She was familiar enough with every department to promote a replacement in minutes.
The four Clan Leaders, on the other hand, were a different matter.
Their limbs were still too weak to have recovered, so they had to read the pledges with the soldiers holding the papers for them. No matter how hard they tried to remain impassive, their eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion.
Maisie Joyce noted their hesitation and smiled faintly. "You don’t have to doubt their authenticity. We can even arrange a face-to-face confrontation. However, don’t think you can just placate me for now and get away with it, or try to deal with me after you leave. That won’t end well." As she spoke, she mimed slitting her throat with her hand. "People will die, you know!"
She uttered these words with a serene smile, but her eyes were as cold as ice. Her gaze swept over the crowd, making them break out in a cold sweat.
Henry Chase had never been threatened by a woman before, and rage instantly surged within him. "What do you mean by that? Are you trying to scare us?!"
Maisie Joyce turned to look at him. "You’re wrong. I’m not trying to scare you. I *am* threatening you. So, are you scared?"
"Hmph! Scared? The hell I am! I—"
Maisie Joyce cut him off coolly and said to the soldier beside him, "Since Division Commander Chase refuses to be threatened, you can send him on his way."
"Yes!"
The soldier’s reply was sharp and his movements swift. The gleaming long knife flashed in a single arc, and blood gushed from Henry Chase’s neck, splattering the conference table in a brilliant crimson.
The tip of the blade pointed downward, still dripping with blood that soon dampened the floor below.
Henry Chase’s enraged eyes hadn’t even had time to close. Whether his final expression was one of defiance, surprise, or regret, no one would ever know. His body slumped in the chair, his head lolling powerlessly to one side.
For a moment, the conference room fell utterly silent.
The only sounds were the ragged, shallow breaths in the room and the DRIP... DRIP... of blood hitting the floor.
It sounded like the fabled clepsydra, marking the final moments of a life.
When King Yama decrees your death at the third watch, who can keep you alive until the fifth!
Maisie Joyce calmly watched the expressions of the others—some feigning composure, others revealing their terror. The blood and the corpse seemed to have no effect on her, as if this scene were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Sitting toward the back, Marcus Monroe raised an eyebrow slightly.
’With his eyesight, he could easily read the letters in the hands of the people in front of him. Even he had to admit, this woman certainly had her methods.’
’She had likely planned to make an example of Henry Chase all along.’
’She couldn’t kill a Clan Leader so easily, as it might provoke their kinsmen to unite against a common enemy. If they adopted a defiant, fight-to-the-death attitude, it would be a major headache for her.’
’Henry Chase, however, was different.’
’He commanded The Power Corps.’
’No matter how beloved a commander he was, once he was dead, the ordinary soldiers who weren’t his close confidants wouldn’t mourn him like family. They might mutter a complaint or two, but that’s it. As long as the new division commander performed better, he would quickly be forgotten.’
’And since Keith Preston’s men were here, it meant the soldiers Henry Chase brought with him outside had already been eliminated. His remaining confidants had probably been "handled" as well. What’s more, someone had likely already staged a coup and seized control of the Second Division.’
’There was no point in keeping Henry Chase alive.’
’He was the perfect chicken to kill to scare the monkeys!’
’That’s why she goaded him. Henry Chase was a man, and a division commander at that. There was no way he would say the word "scared" in a situation like this... ’
’Such a masterful calculation!’
Marcus Monroe impassively leaned back, settling more comfortably in his chair.
He hadn’t been given the Antidote, nor had he been shackled in iron chains.
In fact, he could move about freely at this moment.
He didn’t know how she had administered the poison, but clearly, the dosage was not enough to fully affect him. When he saw something was wrong with the others, he’d only felt a slight discomfort before discreetly taking an Antidote. He was fine in no time. The only reason he’d gone along with the crowd and pretended to have been poisoned was to see who was pulling the strings.
He just hadn’t expected that Maisie Joyce would be the one to step forward.
Since she had taken center stage, he figured he might as well sit back and watch the show.
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