Four Split Personalities

Miranda subconsciously followed up, "Just what?"

Richard gave a meaningful smile and paused for quite a while before saying, "It’s just that, as far as I know, Yali Daily isn’t exactly a paper for military nerds. I think in your readers’ eyes, there are plenty of things much more attractive than all sorts of professional knowledge."

Miranda nervously swallowed; her little face flushed bright red from excitement. If she wasn’t mistaken, Richard seemed about to give her some real juicy stuff!

The kind of juicy stuff the readers were actually interested in!

"Alright, I won’t be coy about it. A toast to your cuteness and thoughtfulness."

Richard raised his glass slightly to Miranda, took a light sip of the drink that actually didn’t have much alcohol in it, and said lazily, "Listen up, then. Maybe a lot of people don’t know this, but I’m very clear on it: in that match, there was only one fundamental reason Ramollok played the way he did—to show off to Hei Fan, who was a Seed player at the time, to provoke him."

Miranda’s pupils literally shook as she cried out, "What!?"

"That’s right. In fact, for Ramollok, it didn’t matter who his second-round opponent was. He’d already made up his mind to do it that way."

Richard nodded gravely and said in a deep voice, "To put it simply, in the second round of that Warfire League, no matter who he ran into, it was already decided that he’d win the match with ’two-way exploitation’ built around that bastard Hei Fan’s signature tactic—’Hundred-Step Calculus.’"

"Two-way exploitation... Hundred-Step Calculus..."

Miranda murmured the words in a bit of a daze at first, then suddenly snapped to realization: "So that’s it! Ramollok was recreating His Excellency the Military God’s battle style! He already knew back then that the Sumer campaign was commanded by His Excellency the Military God!"

Richard cast Miranda an approving look and went on, "Aside from that, Ramollok also showed a style that was his and his alone."

"What is it?"

"Doing whatever it takes to achieve his goal."

"Mm-hmm, and then?"

"That’s it."

"Huh?"

"Haha, I know it sounds cliché, but you need to understand: the kind of ’means’ someone at Ramollok’s level can think of and actually use are terrifying—really, really terrifying."

Richard downed the cocktail in his glass in one go and said in a low voice, "Even though it was just a war game, for the sake of his own victory, he didn’t hesitate to throw the entire Blue side into the meat grinder. That alone proves a lot."

Miranda finally started to lose the thread. She admitted honestly, "I don’t get it."

"Then let me put it another way."

Richard smiled faintly, raised a brow, and said, "When a person like that is not some mid-level Commander of a fictional faction on a simulated sand table, but a supreme general sitting on countless armies with ultimate authority, how terrifying does he become? How much pressure do his opponents have to bear?"

Miranda shivered; her little face turned pale as she said honestly, "I...I can’t imagine it, but just putting myself in the opponent’s seat across from Ramollok already makes me kind of want to die."

"That’s normal. Barty and I have wanted to go die countless times, but like I said just now... No, actually, it was the Director of the Dark Division who said it."

Richard gently rubbed at the area over his Heart while showing a proud smile. "We can’t afford to die. We have no right to die. We don’t deserve to die, because we are people who possess Strength. When others die, it’s glory. If we die, it’s just running away, just shoving our heads up our own assholes—what the hell kind of bullshit is that!"

Miranda gave an awkward little laugh. "Somehow, that really does sound like something that lord would say..."

Just then, Richard’s wife, named Heather, suddenly came in from the balcony. She first shot a cold glare at the bottle in front of the old man, then casually tossed out, "I’m going to Aunt Daisy’s to buy some bread," and left straight away.

A second later, the old man and the young girl left in the room both let out a breath of relief almost at the same time.

And then—

"Mr. Richard!"

Miranda called out in a syrupy sweet tone.

"I know, I know..."

Richard gave a wry smile, then somewhat laboriously pulled open the drawer beneath the table, took out a silver badge from inside, and casually tossed it to the girl in front of him.

Miranda instinctively caught the delicate badge. "Eh!?"

"Take that and go to the Cloud Traveler Inn in the Free City No Night District. Find the owner and borrow volume seven of the True Black History Series. What you want to know is in there."

Richard pointed at the badge in Miranda’s hand, cutting her off before she could stumble through her question. "Relax. As long as you bring that badge, Liu Mu-chan won’t charge you money. I already gave her a heads-up."

"Th–this... this is from your time in the Great United Army..."

Miranda stared down at the badge in her hand in disbelief and cried out, "I can’t take this!"

"Who said I was giving it to you..."

Richard rolled his eyes and said dryly, "Give it to Liu Mu. She’ll find time to send it back to me."

Miranda nodded dumbly. "Oh."

"Sigh, there isn’t really much to gossip about. Aside from that beating, I didn’t actually lose anything."

Richard let out a sigh and said helplessly, "I honestly don’t know why everyone’s so interested in the stupid crap we pulled when we were young."

Miranda gave another awkward laugh, too embarrassed to say anything. She just carefully put the badge away, then straightened her expression. "What do you want me to do?"

"Such a smart Child."

Richard raised two fingers and gave them a little shake, smiling as he said, "Two things."

Miranda nodded vigorously. "I’m listening."

"First thing."

Richard settled comfortably back in his chair and asked Miranda, who was a bit nervous and was therefore holding her teacup and taking tiny sips, "What suit are you?"

"Pff!"

Miranda promptly choked on a mouthful of tea. She stared wide-eyed and wheezed for quite a while before croaking, "H–how did you...?"

"Just asking."

Richard smiled calmly and waved his hand generously. "It’s fine if you don’t answer."

Miranda narrowed her eyes. "You already know, don’t you!"

"Even if I didn’t..."

Richard shrugged innocently and spread his hands. "After you sprayed that mouthful of tea just now, I’d know anyway."

With a face full of Black lines, Miranda glanced down at the tea stains on the table. As she silently wiped them up with a square handkerchief, she answered helplessly, "Spade Five."

"Tsk tsk, so you’re not specialized in intel. I thought for sure you’d be a Diamond."

Richard smacked his lips, curious. "What’s a Spades like you doing as a reporter?"

"Sorry, Mr. Richard."

Miranda rolled her eyes and said irritably, "My primary identity is a twenty-three-year-old single blooming beautiful girl, my second identity is the ace reporter of Yali Daily’s City of Freedom branch, my third identity is a filial good daughter to my parents, my fourth identity is a beautiful-girl military enthusiast, and only after all that am I Spade Five of Clown Brand."

"I’m pretty sure I just heard ’beautiful girl’ twice."

"Is there a problem?"

"Uh, no... So if Clown Brand’s missions clash with your newspaper work..."

"Newspaper."

"And if it clashes with your free time..."

"I definitely go home to spend the weekend with my parents. Other time is negotiable."

"Since when did that organization get this kind of vibe?"

"In fact, Clown Brand has had this vibe since the day it was founded. The looseness of our organizational structure would absolutely blow your mind."

"Then can you tell me why you’ve managed to keep going to this day?"

"Surveillance and protection."

"Of who?"

"No comment."

"Alright then..."

Richard let out a deep sigh and said helplessly, "So your reporter job is... uh... just purely being a reporter?"

Miranda nodded and added, "Plus my own personal love of gossip."

Richard: "..."

"So anyway."

Miranda cleared her throat and snapped back into the energetic mode of a "twenty-three-year-old single blooming beautiful-girl reporter," then asked, "What’s the second thing?"

"Mm, I’d like you—or more precisely, I’d like your Yali Daily—to help clear up something."

"Clear up that you didn’t have feelings for His Highness Wang Yu back then?"

"No. I actually did have a bit of a thing back then, though it only lasted a few days before it vanished. Anyway, it’s not that."

"Then what is it?"

"It’s about my wife, Heather."

"Eh?"

Chapter 1275: The End

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