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"Mr. Anderson," Morin said after answering the phone. "I trust you have good news for me."
Morin had given Anderson the phone number himself. Since their collaboration was almost certain, he couldn't just rely on one-way communication.
As for whether or not to check whose number it was" it didn't matter much; his identity would be revealed eventually anyway.
But, as it turned out, Morin had appeared as Ethan Hunt in front of Anderson this whole time"
"For me, yes, but for you, that remains to be seen."
Anderson said, "I've contacted the Secretary of Defense, Camilles. He's willing to meet with you at the Pentagon in three days, but you have to go alone."
"Sounds like a den of thieves," Morin said, not surprised. He had expected this. It would have been strange if someone so important didn't try to assert some control.
"However, I accept. I'll be there on time, 10 a.m. sharp in three days."
After all, if you're going to negotiate a partnership, you have to take some risks, right?
Besides, for Morin, this wasn't even a real risk.
At most, it was a slightly thrilling operation.
"I thought you would have a different opinion," Anderson was surprised. "You're that confident? The Pentagon is not my private villa. You can't just come and go as you please."
"If you're upright, you have nothing to fear. What I'm doing is beneficial to you, and you need what I"m doing, so there's no need to worry," Morin said with a chuckle.
"Oh, one more thing, you probably know about it already, right?"
"Are you talking about"" As the governor of New York, Anderson had received reports from his subordinates about the big commotion in the city.
"The Continental Hotel thing? So many assassins died" was that you?"
"The Templar Knights' first public appearance had to have a brilliant victory, or else I wouldn't have the leverage to negotiate," Morin said.
"As for the results" I think you already know."
"Yes, through internal channels, the High Table has already taken notice and sent people to handle it" Wait, don't tell me?"
Anderson was talking when he suddenly realized something. "You ran into a High Table representative?"
"There was someone called the Adjudicator," Morin said, pretending to think for a moment.
"She didn't have a phone, was wearing high heels, and had no money. She looked so pathetic, so I took all her stuff and let her go."
""" Anderson's eye twitched. "How far is she from the city?"
"About a dozen kilometers?" Morin asked in a doubtful tone, but his words were confident.
"To treat a High Table person like that" well, I guess your identity allows it," Anderson sighed.
"I have to say, you did what I always wanted to do but never dared to."
"It's a lot more satisfying when you don't have a reputation to protect," Morin said with a self-deprecating laugh.
"So, is it a deal?"
"Hold on," Anderson said with a wry smile.
"Even though our first meeting was strange, we're about to start formal negotiations. I can't go into this without knowing your name, can I?"
"Of course you can't," Morin said, not holding back.
"You found out already. The owner of that phone number is me, Morin."
"You?" Anderson was surprised again.
"My search showed a person of Asian descent."
"I was wearing a mask, the realistic kind," Morin said, suddenly turning serious.
"You're not a racist, are you?"
"Of course not," Anderson quickly denied. In this situation, even if he were, he would have to say no.
"I treat everyone equally."
After hanging up, Morin looked at the circle of people around him"Carlos, Fox, Wesley, and Wick"and said helplessly, "Now you know why I"m so confident?"
"The Pentagon?" Wesley asked.
"The Secretary of Defense?" Carlos asked.
"Don't tell me"" Fox began, but Morin waved a hand to interrupt.
"Are you guys planning to ask one question each? Did you practice this beforehand?" Morin laughed.
"Yes, that's right. In three days, at ten a.m. at the Pentagon, I, Morin, a Templar of the Templar Knights, will go alone to discuss what kind of treatment the Templar Knights will receive from the U.S. Secretary of Defense, Camilles. Got it?"
Morin walked outside. "Stop thinking so much. I'm not going to lead you to your deaths. If we want to protect order, we have to communicate with national powers. This is an unavoidable and necessary step."
Watching Morin leave, Carlos was silent for a long time. "I"m starting to think he can actually do it."
"You didn't think so before?" Fox asked.
"Of course not, I was just"" Carlos said, then looked at Wesley.
"Great, Father," Wesley said, giving Carlos a thumbs-up.
"To get me out of that life, you dragged me into a five-person organization to fight the dark forces that control the entire underworld. You're awesome."
"Heh heh"" Wick couldn't help but laugh.
The atmosphere among them became much lighter and more relaxed.
To be honest, before this, even though they had joined the Templar Knights, they still thought that fighting the High Table with so few people was a fantasy.
They had all come together for various reasons, whether forced or enticed.
It was only after taking down the Fraternity of Assassins and Morin receiving affirmation from the Loom of Fate that they gained a tiny bit of confidence. Just a tiny bit.
After all, this was the High Table, a global organization that controlled the underworld and could make major countries back down.
But now, they suddenly learned that the Templar Knights weren't fighting alone. On the contrary, they might have the help of government forces. They all felt much more at ease.
They knew that while it wouldn't be easy, the national machine was a powerful force. They all understood that many major countries could take down the High Table if they were willing to pay the price; they just hadn't done it yet.
Now, they seemed to see a crack in the dark sky cast by the High Table, and through it, a ray of holy sunlight.
And they, the Templar Knights, were the orderly swords that would pierce through the darkness.
Nighttime.
A beggar sat slumped on the side of the road, his head down.
He didn't even look up as footsteps approached.
Suddenly, a pair of feet stopped in front of him.
The beggar was surprised.
It wasn't because the feet were beautiful, but because"
The shoes were caked in mud, they seemed to be high heels, but the heels were broken. The owner of the feet was also wearing stockings.
The strange combination made him curious.
The beggar looked up and saw a disheveled woman.
"I am the High Table's Adjudicator," the Adjudicator said, exhausted and unkempt. Her elegant demeanor was completely gone. She looked as if she had been rolled in mud.
"Take me to your leader."
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