Munitions Empire-Chapter 940 - 863 Flame Emblem

Chapter 940: 863 Flame Emblem Chapter 940: 863 Flame Emblem In the dim room, a man in a top hat handed a gold card to the bearded man in front of him and said, “If you’re willing to consider us your friends, then you can have all the help you want.”

“I’m still quite curious, what would I have to give in return?” the bearded man stared at the other, asking, “I’ve lived long enough to know one thing, there’s no such thing as help without reason in this world.”

“All you need to do is acknowledge you’re our friend; when we need your help, just don’t refuse,” the man with the top hat replied with a smile. He was very polite, so polite it made one tense.

“What if I refuse?” the bearded man gazed intently at the man in the top hat and continued to probe.

“Don’t be so nervous, I won’t make you do anything difficult… Relax, sir, if you refuse, we’ll act as if I was never here,” the man in the top hat said, spreading his hands.

The bearded man struggled for a moment, looking at the golden Flame Emblem card on the table, and eventually reached out his hand.

He pressed down on the card, feeling its cold surface: “Friends… I think we can be friends.”

...

The satisfied man in the top hat stood up, smiling as he handed over a check written for a hundred thousand Gold Coins: “Trust me, our partnership will be very enjoyable.”

After seeing the other leave, the bearded man stared at the Flame Emblem card in his hand, not doing anything else for a moment. He just sat there, silent as if pondering something.

He was a small businessman; it wasn’t actually difficult to grow a business in the Tang Empire. In an era like this, almost anything could make one wealthy.

Just like that famous bit of nonsense: “When standing at the mouth of the wind, even pigs can fly.” The saying isn’t wrong, it just doesn’t tell you what the wind mouth is, or how to stand at it…

Some wind mouths only become apparent after they’ve passed, and some opportunities that look like wind mouths are actually just exaggerated investment traps.

Not everyone dares to soar with the rise of the Tang Empire: Ignore the general trend of economic development and revitalization, just look at those mansions and castles that used to be blood-soaked and are now ruling council halls, and you know not everyone can keep up with such a rise.

As the people involved, after seeing the slaughter of the Old Nobility and landlords, it’s questionable how many still have the courage to get rich taking advantage of such opportunities.

Do you know if those fallen Nobility and landlords will retaliate? Could tomorrow bring the changing of flags and the reckoning for you, who rose with the momentum?

So, joining the frenzy of the rise of the Tang Empire itself requires courage, and it just so happens this bearded man had that bit of audacity.

He had been a lumber salesman before, as the economy of the Tang Empire grew, and Wood, a building material, began to sell like crazy.

So he borrowed money to expand, and indeed became a wealthy merchant. Only, lately, he had run into trouble expanding too quickly, borrowing over a hundred thousand Gold Coins he couldn’t turn over, teetering on the brink of bankruptcy.

But just then, a mysterious person had approached him, lending him a hundred thousand Gold Coins and giving him the chance to stabilize his footing.

Turning the gold card with the Flame Emblem in his hands, the man knew that the person in the top hat who had approached him was no saint; getting involved with such people was definitely not going to end well.

After struggling for a while, he pocketed both the check and the card and walked out of the room.

He looked down at his factory building and saw the woodworking machinery at work inside, and glanced at the skilled workers next to the machines.

After greeting each person he passed, he walked over to his imported car from Laines, opened the door, and climbed in.

There weren’t many luxury car brands in the Tang Empire, and a huge portion of the market was long occupied by imported cars. Many complained that the cars produced by the Empire were either too expensive or too cheap.

Only those in the know understood that this too was a means of balancing trade; if you collide head-on in every field, the economies of other nations wouldn’t be able to support their own development anymore.

To sustain development, the Great Tang Empire had to proactively relinquish a portion of the market, giving the surrounding nations a soupçon to subsist on. Failing to do so might swiftly trigger a second anti-Tang conflict.

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Tang Mo did not fear war, but he also needed a period of peace to develop his technology and perfect his infrastructure. While war could expedite his acquisition of benefits, it would also stagnate the economy.

Soon, the car left the wood factory and vanished at the end of the street.

…

Several hours later, in a branch of the Empire Intelligence Bureau set up on the Southern Plains, a casually dressed man pulled open the door to a meeting room.

He was amiable, and held two cups of hot tea as he entered the room, “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to drink, here’s some tea, I hope you don’t mind.”

“I dare not… dare not…” the man with the full beard was somewhat nervous, this being his first time entering such a place, his first dealings with the enigmatic agents of the Empire Intelligence Bureau.

“You needn’t be nervous, just speak casually,” the intelligence agent set down the teacups, pushing one in front of the bearded man, “Describe this man, as if we’re just chatting.”

“He wore a top hat, about fifty years old, an… average build. He always smiled at me, that uncomfortable kind of smile,” the bearded man tried hard to recall everything he had seen a few hours earlier.

In the next room, listening to the man’s testimony, several agents from the Empire Intelligence Bureau felt disheartened, for they couldn’t form a complete image of a person based on his descriptions.

“It seems the other party is also a professional intelligence operative, at least they’ve worked on this aspect,” one of the agents put down his charcoal pencil, sighing.

When selecting intelligence personnel, strict standards were set for height, weight, and appearance; someone tall and handsome like Brosnan would absolutely not be chosen for field agents.

The most outstanding field agents had to have an ordinary appearance, no distinctive features, becoming untraceable in a crowd within seconds.

They also didn’t dress in suits and leather shoes, preferring casual attire like jackets, jeans, and sneakers, and they wouldn’t even intentionally wear a hat—ordinariness was their greatest disguise.

“Faces like that are a dime a dozen on the streets,” another agent complained, “We can only wait for them to make a move.”

“Watching and waiting is the least efficient method… We’re short on staff, and afraid that the opponent is deliberately diverting our attention,” the lead officer said, agitated, listening to the words of the person in the other room.

“Catch them, and there’s no way to continue the investigation… They have no criminal records, handing out business cards isn’t illegal, right?” an agent felt they were wasting time.

The other party had merely distributed a gold card with a Flame Emblem on it—such an item could be indistinguishable from the VIP cards nightclubs handed out to customers.

Even if there were a difference, as long as they didn’t acknowledge it, a card by itself really meant nothing. Insist it was merely to make friends, leaving a card as a token, the Intelligence Bureau couldn’t actually resort to torture.

If it were just some rich person’s perverse sense of humor, and an uproar ensued, who would take responsibility? Because they were wealthy and philanthropic, starting some commercial council or collaboration group, then propelling someone into prison or death? What a joke…

Someone sensibly raised a cautionary opinion, “The problem is this is definitely not a business card… Their style of speaking, their way of conducting business… they all have a familiar feel.”

The odor emanating from their own kind is something intelligence operatives can never fully obscure; with a single whiff, they could detect that familiar dark scent.

“From what we see now, this organization is undoubtedly not some mutual aid association; they have their own agenda, which we must thoroughly investigate,” the senior intelligence officer also felt they could not just ignore the matter.

But they truly lacked the manpower to handle this issue, “If it doesn’t work out, we’ll request support, let the higher-ups send someone to take over…”

In the other room, the attending agent continued with a gentle tone, as if chatting about everyday matters, guiding the bearded businessman to lay bare everything he knew.