Chapter 554

Chapter 554: Covering Flaws with Food Quantity

Mitch Friedman’s expression shifted, and he fixed his gaze on White Wolf, asking, “Who is this gentleman, and what brings you here?”

Just moments ago, Colonel Jett from the CIA had provided him with valuable information, certainly due to the influence of his golden nugget.

No matter how well White Wolf disguised himself, he could not escape being a new face in this hotel.

It was incredibly unfortunate that the troubles with Boeing had dragged him into this mess.

The CIA’s lockdown of the hotel originally had nothing to do with him; it wouldn’t have affected his actions.

But then Lockheed’s people arrived, and everything changed.

Mitch Friedman had inadvertently pushed White Wolf into a predicament with a small gold nugget.

While the CIA was secure behind closed doors, the Lockheed “dog” had barged in.

It was a perfect case of locking the door only to let the dog out. White Wolf silently lamented, his only fortune being that soon after entering the hotel, the embassy military attaché had masked his scent, otherwise the robotic dog would have rushed in to bite instead of knocking door to door like it was now.

What a stroke of bad luck.

Boeing, having caused a ruckus, was running around like a rabid dog, desperately searching for four missing sixth-generation fighter experimental machines, and now with Lockheed also reporting a theft, both companies were in serious trouble. Even the American government had to take notice, leading to speculations about a conspiracy against the American aviation industry.

Without this trouble, the hotel housing the aviation experts team would have been White Wolf’s best hiding place.

But incredibly unbelievable things had occurred, each more unfortunate than the last.

“I’m called Wolf; hey! Can I get a business card?”

White Wolf appeared open and casual on the outside, but his heart raced as if about to leap out of his chest. Though he had done some intelligence work and received training, he was still a pilot of large combat machinery, not a hero like James Bond.

A military attaché?! Mitch Friedman wore a look of disgust. The embassy military attaché was practically synonymous with spies and also enjoyed legal diplomatic immunity—what an annoying guy.

“As far as I know, there’s a meal still waiting in your room. Isn’t it to your taste?”

Mitch Friedman stared at White Wolf, trying to find a hint of guilt.

The meal delivery was highly suspicious. Upon entering this floor, this guy had been carrying a tray around, clearly acting with suspicion.

Damn! White Wolf felt a jolt of realization. He and Major Mo still had two unfinished meals in their room, and he had just brought another meal to this already delivered room, a classic case of “hiding silver yet revealing it.”

The amount of food was already substantial; two servings combined were likely too much for most people. White Wolf’s careless mistake had been caught by the meticulous Lockheed personnel.

At the time, he had thought to deliver meals to all rooms, using a regular silver knife to cover his own Fenrir alloy knife. Even Lockheed’s searchers would find it hard to take the hotel’s standard knives seriously amid all that food, but he hadn’t realized that his actions would inadvertently expose him.

He quickly smiled and said, “I brought this specially for my friend. There was a small misunderstanding earlier, so I wanted to personally deliver some food as a token of apology.”

White Wolf reminded himself to remain calm and not slip up. With two servings of food, brothers, this is for the people’s sacrifice! Let’s just consider tomorrow’s breakfast as well.

His words had some truth, and there could be evidence to back up his story. Regardless of how others investigated, they could verify that this guy had a small conflict with Lin Mo. If he claimed it was an apology, it would make sense, but…

“Is that so?” Mitch Friedman sneered, clearly not buying it.

Steak, pasta, escargot soup, salad, and other snacks—one serving alone was enough for an adult white male to feel full. Two servings? Hmph! What kind of bottomless pit could finish that? This excuse was too flimsy!

Could there be something peculiar about the food? Mitch Friedman felt his pupils narrow slightly, thinking he might have caught onto something important. He took pleasure in unraveling the layers of his opponent’s various tactics, relishing the feeling of breaking their confidence.

Maybe the chairman would recognize his hard work and even reward him with a big bonus.

Hearing their leader’s sneer, the Lockheed subordinates slowly reached into their clothing. While they might not have a killing weapon, they possessed a restricted weapon—the Taser electric gun, which could take down even a bull. The stronger the muscles, the more such a weapon could restrain them.

White Wolf turned to Lin Mo with a pleading look, “Brother, just go along with this.”

Actually, he didn’t even realize that this reason carried a hint of mischievous revenge. Just you wait, I’ll make you pop!

If I can’t beat you, intimidate you, or hide from you, I might as well try to stuff you silly with food. Even if I can’t make you burst, I can at least make you uncomfortable; as long as you’re not feeling well, I’ll feel at ease.

This troublesome little trait still lingers in his mind, some things are just innate—changing the country is easy, but changing one’s nature is hard.

“Hmph!” Mitch Friedman continued to smirk as he said to Lin Mo, “Sir! It looks like your appetite is quite good; will you be able to finish everything?”

If Lin Mo even said a single “no,” he would immediately drag this self-proclaimed Wolf outside and give him a hundred rounds. Hmph, a military attaché? As long as Lockheed casually mentions national security, there are plenty of people in the government willing to clash with China; it would be just right to use them for practice.

This “Dragon Knight” was not someone he could afford to offend, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take action against this fellow named Wolf.

“Uh-huh! My appetite is great; indeed, he’s here to bring me extra food,” Lin Mo said with a blink, surprisingly nodding in agreement.

Extra food is no pressure for a Dragon Knight.

Mitch Friedman gestured for them to proceed…

Forty minutes later, Mitch Friedman and his subordinates walked out of Lin Mo’s hotel room with blank expressions.

Not only were they covered in cold sweat, but their legs felt weak. They hadn’t completed their mission but had witnessed a miracle.

This terrifying monster had an equally terrifying appetite; not only did he finish two huge servings of food in an instant, but driven by the same subconscious wickedness as White Wolf, Mitch Friedman, hoping to see Lin Mo make a fool of himself, had foolishly spent money to order him extra food.

They never expected that after sending in twenty different large portions of food, the other party didn’t even blink an eye and devoured it all.

What impacted them even more was that he actually patted his belly, saying he was only eight-tenths full!

“Mitch Friedman, do we…” One subordinate made a weak gesture towards his superior. They often dealt with these kinds of situations, reasoning when they could, using money when they couldn’t, and if that failed, resorting to threats or even harsh measures—this was the dirty work they did.

“Shut up!” Mitch Friedman turned pale, quickly covering the subordinate’s mouth and pushing him against the wall. He spoke in a hushed voice, “Are you crazy? Do you want to die? Don’t drag others into this! Have you ever thought about it? A soldier who can eat this much is not someone you can handle easily!”

The other subordinates nodded in agreement, like Little Chicken pecking at grains.

Eating capacity is often proportional to physical fitness, especially for those who don’t appear overweight—either they have a low nutrient absorption rate, or they transform it into formidable physical fitness. Provoking the latter is indeed akin to courting death, so it’s no wonder Mitch Friedman saw their opponent as giving off the same vibe a mouse would have in front of a cat.

“What a terrifying person!”

White Wolf wasn’t sure how he made it out, feeling his chest and realizing he was still alive. He vaguely remembered quietly hiding that special silver knife back in his sleeve, though his mind was filled with stacked plates, clearly frightened.

Lockheed found nothing of value; even though they tried every means to reclaim the “Fenrir” alloy, it was right in front of them, yet they had zero interest in the mountain of utensils.

All the food had been consumed completely by Lin Mo, even the soup bowls were licked clean—there was truly nothing hidden away. Mitch Friedman’s crew lost their enthusiasm and withdrew, beginning to search other hotel rooms, continuing their doomed quest.

If only they had simply scanned the pile of utensils with a detector, they would have immediately heard the piercing alarm sound they so desperately sought. Unfortunately, they lacked the tools for that.

As Lin Mo wiped his mouth with a wet wipe and sipped his after-meal red tea, a hint of a mysterious smile appeared on his face as his gaze locked onto the left wrist of White Wolf as he left.

“Report: A Chinese aviation expert has requested to go out! It’s that fierce guy; he’s heading to Los Angeles to participate in a university classmate’s cosplay performance. Investigations have shown that such a public charity performance does indeed take place in Los Angeles.”

Colonel Jett, who had been stationed by the hotel entrance for lockdown and investigative duties, showed a thoughtful expression upon hearing the report from an agent.

Even though the hotel was locked down and unauthorized entry or exit was prohibited, it didn’t mean that it was entirely forbidden; with prior application and approval, one could come and go.

The request for someone to go out caught his attention. Given the current atmosphere of tension, one couldn’t overlook even the slightest hint of suspicion; being overly strict could drive people away. Perhaps it would be better to play the long game and wait for bigger opportunities—Colonel Jett quickly made a decision.

Pressing his earpiece, he turned his eyes slightly and said in a deep voice, “Approved. Send Loper and Uda to follow him. Ask if he needs a vehicle; remember to send two more teams with him, don’t lose track!”

“Yes, Colonel Jett!” The agent’s voice came through the earpiece.

Thank goodness, I hope we can catch some clues, Colonel Jett thought as he tugged at his collar. The cold morning wind was still biting, and the sparse stars in the night’s sky suggested that today might be a good day.