Chapter 384: Consensus

Less than ten minutes after Li Mochen left, the North District avenue where the crime scene was located was already filled with police cars and crowds.

Cleo Wildenstein, holding a walking stick, stood pale-faced before the extended Saint Shield sedan, gazing intently toward the southeast. He had no need to inspect the convoy; he was one of the eyewitnesses, having seen his cousin’s head blown open.

What concerned him now were only the sniper position two kilometers away and the sniper who had killed Delon.

“My condolences, Cleo.”

The one who approached Cleo was Dowlington, head of the FBI Atlanta field office.

“Our experts have examined it. The ballistic characteristics and bullet traces are consistent with the ‘Dragon’s Might’ in the hands of the Fenrir Wolf. Clearly, this is that bastard’s work again.”

“That’s impossible!”

Cleo Wildenstein’s voice was sharp and resolute: “He has no reason to do this. It brings him no benefit!”

“But Cleo, that man is a lunatic.”

Dowlington’s eyes showed surprise: “We can’t infer his actions using normal logic—unless you have other clues, Cleo?”

“The Wildenstein family has no conflict with him!”

Cleo Wildenstein took a deep breath, softening his tone: “Dowlington, I want to know what you found at the sniper position. I suggest using time regression.”

The American Federal Bureau of Investigation maintains field offices in 72 cities nationwide, leading local criminal investigation, security, drug enforcement, and other work.

The head of the Atlanta field office is not only the FBI’s chief in all of Atlanta but also has limited jurisdiction over fifteen branches distributed across Georgia.

Thus, the man before him was not someone he could casually berate.

Even though the Atlanta FBI field office had recently been overwhelmed by successive upheavals, this man remained one of the most powerful figures in the entire city.

“Unfortunately, we found nothing. We can only deduce from the dense spatial energy there that the killer escaped via teleportation magic. The area has been disturbed by the spell ‘Elemental Disorder,’ so time regression is impossible. Damn the New Continent Magic Association, damn Constantine—ever since that bastard invented this spell, our case-solving difficulty has increased dozens of times.”

Dowlington spread his hands, looking helpless: “Our field experts are still investigating, but I doubt we’ll find any clues.”

“Isn’t that suspicious?”

Cleo Wildenstein’s tone was skeptical: “If it were that mad dog, there would be no need for this.”

“You have a point, but the Fenrir Wolf has done this more than once. Cleo, he’s not hiding his identity; he’s evading the pursuit of the Mage Tower Council and numerous legendary magic hunters.”

Dowlington shook his head dismissively and walked toward the command vehicle ahead: “Cleo, I know you can’t accept it emotionally, but that’s the fact. Of course, I won’t jump to conclusions hastily. Mr. Delon Wildenstein is a notable figure and gentleman of this city, an important member of our community. I will set up a special investigation team to look into his death.”

“Dowlington—”

Just as Cleo was about to say something, a man in a black trench coat hurried to his side.

“Sir, President Conshuri has been informed of Delon’s death. He has appointed Mr. Malone as the interim Public Relations Director of the Wildenstein Group, to fully oversee the group’s public relations affairs until the board elects a new CPO.”

Cleo Wildenstein’s expression shifted slightly. He no longer had any desire to linger; he immediately strode briskly to his car, boarded it, and ordered the driver to head toward the Wildenstein Group headquarters.

This left Dowlington and the FBI personnel, who had been prepared to deal with Cleo’s pestering or even accusations, utterly astonished.

…

“A very clever move.”

At the Death’s Home magic tower, after Lind Emers left, Anthony said with admiration: “This was the operational plan Ms. Drew devised for you, wasn’t it?”

Li Mochen raised an eyebrow, unconcernedly continuing to examine a magic energy array diagram Anthony had designed.

After the sniper mission was completed, it was time for the Moshlar language lesson. Li Mochen had to help his student review whether this array diagram, primarily in Moshlar, was sound.

This diagram was crucial; Anthony planned to install two annihilation cannons on his “Light Demon VI.” If the annihilation cannons’ magic energy array could be designed entirely in Moshlar, it would allow greater capacity in energy conduction and output.

But at the moment, the richest man’s mind was clearly not on this.

“Delon Wildenstein was the Wildenstein Group’s Public Relations Director, overseeing most of the group’s brand promotion, advertising placements, and public relations work. Currently, nearly thirty percent of Ferguson Media’s advertising revenue comes from Wildenstein. For Mandiv Ferguson, this blow is like cutting off the supply of fuel. The key is that it achieves multiple goals at once: Delon belonged to Cleo’s faction, and his death will inevitably spark conflicts and struggles among the several heirs.”

“No, no, it’s more than that. Nearly thirty-seven percent of Ferguson Media’s shares are held by overseas shell companies. The reason Delon supported Ferguson Media so wholeheartedly might be that he, or Cleo himself, holds equity in Ferguson Media. This involves a bigger issue: benefit transfer. If so, you can completely cut off Ferguson Media’s funding sources. Oh, and this also gives your grandfather Conshuri an opportunity to intervene in the PR department, greatly increasing your chances of inheriting the Wildenstein family, Amo.”

“You’re very clever, Anthony.”

Li Mochen glanced at him sideways: “But sometimes you overthink things. Cutting off Ferguson Media’s funding is correct, but it has nothing to do with the Wildenstein family.”

“Drew wouldn’t say that to you; she’d just do it without a word. If you ever truly control the Wildenstein Group, she might one day have a chance to become the president of this country.”

Anthony chuckled, still resting his chin on his hand, looking as if he held all the answers: “So what’s your next move? Let me guess—your so-called Plan A is to strike at Ferguson Media’s broadcasting equipment and their printing plants, right? I bet Ms. Drew will opt for a quick resolution. Ferguson Media still has influence; it’s a hot potato. If the battle drags on, it won’t benefit you—too many variables will arise.”

Li Mochen, expressionless, drew several crosses on the diagram and pushed it in front of Anthony.

“Unfortunately, the array diagram you designed has at least four fundamental errors. I think you’re too ambitious, Anthony. A beginner in Moshlar trying to design an array diagram using a tool you haven’t fully mastered—how much do you underestimate this language?”