Chapter 423: Rejoicing in Misfortune

"According to the footage captured, the number of legendary casualties in this incident is between four and six, with as many as thirty-two magic-energy professionals. Ms. Drew herself is unharmed. The scene is now cordoned off by the FBI and the police. As you can see, police vehicles arrived half a minute after the incident, followed by the FBI's emergency security response team—"

"Next, we will replay the video footage. Just now, we were fortunate to have Mr. Imogen Nord with us. As everyone knows, he is not only a seasoned political and combat commentator but also a former FBI C1-level special agent supervisor. Now, Mr. Nord will analyze and explain the situation for us."

Less than three minutes after the incident, in the office on the thirty-seventh floor of the Wiltonshire Building, Margaret Wiltonshire watched the television playing beside her with a grave expression, until her assistant Edward Bloom entered.

"This outcome must have caught everyone by surprise."

Margaret turned down the TV volume with the remote: "Edward, has the situation been confirmed?"

"The situation is exactly as you see on TV. They haven't falsified anything."

Edward Bloom gave a wry smile: "Six legends—I think you sensed it too, didn't you? They were completely wiped out. Worse still, they even captured fifteen alive, two of whom are members of the Dragon Witch Cult's death squad, long-wanted fugitives. This time, the Benedict family will find it hard to shake off the negative publicity."

"I know. Of course I know."

Margaret frowned: "But Edward, what I want to know is about that old man. Didn't his people get involved?"

"They shouldn't have."

Edward Bloom's face turned cold: "From what we've gathered, those people indeed made no move. I also inquired with that person, and he gave a negative answer."

"So, this was all his own power?"

Margaret couldn't help closing her eyes: "You know, Edward? That Andre now frightens me. We were wrong. His strength has expanded much faster than I imagined—an almost unbelievable expansion. This can't go on. I think I need to meet with my two brothers."

Just then, the door to her office was pushed open forcefully. Cleo Wiltonshire, president of Wiltonshire Transport Company, stood there with a livid face.

"Margaret, you foolish woman, are you still planning to stand by and do nothing?"

Behind him followed several others. Apart from Cleo, the rest were Margaret's secretaries and bodyguards. Under Margaret's gaze, they bowed apologetically and withdrew, closing the office door.

"I have never stood by!"

The middle-aged matriarch behind the desk, regal as a queen, slowly rose: "Cleo, do you have any idea what I've done for this? Do you think Calvin got involved solely because of your influence? I promised him assets worth at least a billion golden shields."

Cleo Wiltonshire paused briefly, then regained his composure: "So now we've reached an agreement, haven't we? We can't sit idly by any longer, even if Conshuri turns against us."

"Exactly my intention!"

Margaret Wiltonshire lifted her chin slightly: "We must form a tight alliance, with a sufficiently strong witness and binding force. This alliance must last until Conshuri fully retires."

"That's simple. I can invite His Holiness the Pope to witness our covenant."

Cleo agreed without hesitation: "Now, we need a plan—a plan to eliminate him."

"We can discuss that later. We're not yet sure about our nephew's situation on the Antoria continent. But since he set this trap for us in Atlanta, his forces on the fleet side must be considerable."

Margaret said thoughtfully: "Cleo, if he truly manages to extricate himself from there, we'll have to reassess his strength."

Just then, Edward Bloom, who had stepped aside to take a call, raised his hand: "Madam, Mr. Wiltonshire, there's new information. It's both bad news and possibly good news."

Those present turned to Edward, puzzled as to how bad news could also be called good news.

"Just now, Calvin Benedict was shot and killed at the entrance of a Chinese tea restaurant near the airport. It was likely a legendary fifth-level sniper, nearly demigod level."

Margaret's eyes lit up before he even finished. Her brother Cleo Wiltonshire, after a brief pause, also curled his lips slightly.

"Calvin is dead? My poor nephew, how can that be good news? I imagine my cousin Meryl will be heartbroken."

… …

At the same time, in the FBI's External Operations Building, Zoe Dowlington was gripping the phone, furious as a bull.

"Rand, go to Rising Sun Media and ask them what's going on with today's news? They must stop broadcasting immediately."

"Bullshit! Of course it's not about interfering with press freedom. Can't you come up with an excuse? It's affecting our investigation. We need evidence, we need the videotapes they have. In short, no matter what method you use, I don't want to see any news about this case on air, OK?"

Then he dialed another number.

"Richard, I heard that in your jurisdiction, the East District often has line faults, right? Yes, thieves frequently steal cables."

"You know what I'm getting at, don't you? This time, I owe you one. They've purchased independent fiber optics from Richard Communications? Buried underground? Anyway, help me figure something out."

While he was on the phone, one of Zoe Dowlington's female secretaries hurried in.

"Boss, terrible news. Calvin Benedict was shot dead near Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. Detective Charlie from the homicide unit has already taken his team there."

Zoe Dowlington's eyes widened in disbelief, then the veins on his forehead bulged. He slammed his fist onto the corner of the desk: "Andre Lee Wiltonshire—"

The immense force of the punch shattered a small part of the mahogany desk into powder. His hoarse roar made the secretary tremble with fear.

Fortunately, a red phone on Dowlington's desk rang. Zoe Dowlington barely suppressed his anger and picked up the receiver. His face then showed a hint of gravity.

"Director? No, no, no. How could I deliberately ignore Ms. Drew's safety? You know, I've been driven up the wall by that wolf lately. The Atlanta division is under a lot of pressure—very heavy pressure."

The secretary pricked up her ears to eavesdrop, vaguely hearing a voice from the receiver that was gentle yet authoritative.

"Are you going to fob me off with that excuse, Dowlington? Without your deliberate connivance, the Dragon Witch Cult wouldn't have been so audacious."

"Dowlington, I can guess what you're thinking. The city of Atlanta is best left as it is. Anyone who tries to change it should disappear. Those at the top of the old order are all deeply connected to you. And that rising fellow—he's shaken your authority. But Dowlington, when you sit by and let these conflicts happen, how can you expect the victims to die meekly without fighting back?"