Chapter 178: Lieutenant Colonel

"Who is that? He looks badly injured, in a terrible state. Is he here looking for a job? I didn't see him in the resumes you provided earlier."

Li Mochen looked thoughtfully at the middle-aged man at the wine table, a glint of light flickering in his eyes. The man appeared to be around forty, but his forehead was covered with knife-cut wrinkles. Though his clothes were of a novel style and high-quality fabric, they were covered in stains, clashing with the luxurious and elegant environment. His right hand was wrapped in thick bandages.

Li Mochen roughly guessed that this man was a magic-energy professional around level fifteen, maybe even level seventeen. However, his blood energy was extremely dark and heavy, even carrying a hint of decay.

"That's Howard Eisenhower."

The waiter guiding Li Mochen seemed familiar with the man and replied with just a glance: "The reason you didn't see his name is that he's been classified at a higher level. He's a level 17 magic-energy shooter with a 17S sniper rating, once known by the nickname 'Eye of the Sky.' He's been an A-level member of ours for ten years."

Li Mochen raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Carl Holton beside him.

"So he's not here for a job, just to drink?"

"No, he's here for a job, sir."

The waiter shook his head: "As far as I know, he's been coming almost every week for the past two months, but no one's interested."

"No one's interested?"

Li Mochen was even more surprised: "Isn't anyone interested in him?"

This was unbelievable. A level 17 magic-energy shooter, if equipped with a good gun, could engage low-level legends at long range. Such a rare talent would be in high demand anywhere.

"Well, it's too much trouble to get his resume for you now, so let me just give you a brief rundown."

The waiter said succinctly: "Although the Eye of the Sky is powerful, his track record is terrible. As a mercenary, he had seven records of taking money and then abandoning missions. Later he switched to the security industry, only to betray his employers twice. The key issue is that his right hand is now crippled, and his injuries are severe, damaging his vitality. Anyone who wants to hire him must first come up with 250,000 gold shields to heal him."

"There's someone like that?"

Carl was quite surprised: "With so many breaches, doesn't your Red Sparrow Club do anything about it?"

"The problem is, those contracts weren't signed under the club's guarantee."

The waiter curled his lip: "That's none of our business, Mr. Holton."

Li Mochen cast another meaningful glance at Howard Eisenhower, then continued toward Sampson Brute.

The latter was a black-haired man not yet thirty-five, with a broad face, large ears, and a sturdy build. Despite his blond hair, his physique resembled the gorillas in a zoo. He was silently drinking in a corner of the bar, his expression somber, his gaze cold, exuding an air that kept people at a distance.

Li Mochen found that this man and Howard Eisenhower were polar opposites.

Lieutenant Colonel Brute's clothes were simple and cheap, all bargain-bin items, but he kept himself neat and clean, and his posture was meticulous.

"May I sit down, Lieutenant Colonel Brute?"

Li Mochen walked over to the corner table with a smile: "I'd like to talk to you about your work situation."

Sampson Brute looked up at Li Mochen and paused for a moment, seeming somewhat surprised by his appearance.

"I've seen you on TV, Andre Lee Wyltonstein, the hottest fighting star in Atlanta right now."

He stood up and shook hands with Li Mochen: "You're planning to hire me, right? But I'm sorry, I have no intention of being a bodyguard. I already have a few prospects, just haven't made a decision yet."

"Lieutenant Colonel, I don't know if you've heard an ancient Eastern saying: 'A fine bird chooses its tree; a wise minister chooses his lord.'"

Li Mochen sat down across from Brute anyway: "I'm sure the prospects you're considering won't offer you command of an armed force."

Sampson Brute seemed a bit displeased with Li Mochen's move, but when he heard the last sentence, he paused again: "If I heard correctly, Mr. Wyltonstein, you mean to invite me to lead an armed force?"

"Fourteen combat squads, organized to special forces standards, plus two outlaw-level combat groups. About fifty personnel, including four outlaws, twenty-four level nines, and twenty-six level sevens. Equipment will be military-grade, though second-hand."

A hint of amusement appeared in Li Mochen's eyes: "Interested, Lieutenant Colonel? I'd like to hire you as my deputy steward—nominally, of course."

"You surprise me, Mr. Wyltonstein."

Sampson Brute was uncertain: "The media did mention you have the surname Wyltonstein, but—"

"It has nothing to do with the Wyltonstein family. This is my personal armed force."

Li Mochen said sincerely: "Mr. Brute, you're the best combat commander I've been able to find recently, and you're powerful yourself. So I come today with utmost sincerity. Whether it's salary or equipment, I won't disappoint you—I'll offer the highest standard for someone of your caliber."

Sampson Brute fell into thought: "Mr. Wyltonstein, this armed force of yours is newly recruited, right? I'm curious—why would a sixteen-year-old student, a fighting star under the wing of the Nathan Group, need to hire so many magic-energy professionals? So, Mr. Wyltonstein, can you tell me the truth? What's driving you to do this?"

Li Mochen hesitated. He felt that if he told the truth, this recruitment would likely end in failure.

His original plan was to use his silver tongue to fool the man first, sign the contract, and then explain the situation.

But after only three seconds, Li Mochen made a decision: "It's Edwin Antonio of the Blood Hand Gang. For some reason, I'll be at war with him in a day. Either he falls, or my people are completely wiped out. It's a fight to the death. I need a strong commander to lead my rabble."

"The Blood Hand Gang?"

Sampson Brute murmured, then his eyes sharpened: "Are you sure you want to go to war with them, Mr. Wyltonstein? Others might not know, thinking they're backed by the Mafia. But I know Antonio—he's actually a member of the Dragon Witch Cult. Even so, you still intend to wage war against him?"

"Of course!"

Li Mochen didn't hesitate, though he was curious how the lieutenant colonel knew about the connection between the Blood Hand Gang and the Dragon Witch Cult—this was intelligence the Nathan Sports Group had only just uncovered.

"Then, boss, please let me join your ranks."

Sampson Brute suddenly stood up and extended his hand to Li Mochen again: "My only condition is that you also hire some of my comrades. Twelve people, all elite veterans from the Red Scorpion unit. Their combat power won't disappoint you. Also, just call me Sampson from now on. The title 'Lieutenant Colonel' is a disgrace to me."

This time it was Li Mochen's turn to be stunned. He felt he hadn't even tried hard yet. But he immediately stood up and shook hands with the man, full of joy: "Please call me A-Mo. As the news says, I'm not too fond of the Wyltonstein family or the name Andre either."