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🕑 Added 2025-07-30 14:33:39 +0000 UTCChapter 306: Are You Looking to Die?
At this point, Gerald didn’t have many good options.
After all, as the director of the FEA’s Los Angeles branch, his authority was no match for a Navy admiral commanding a carrier strike group.
“Mr. Black, the situation’s out of my hands. I can only try to mediate for you.”
Roy’s brows furrowed. He’d only called Gerald to help prevent The Color Out of Space from polluting the ocean, not to get tangled up in this mess.
“Mr. Olin, don’t blame me for not giving General Hammer any face. I’m under no obligation to stick around in this dump!”
If it weren’t for his decent relationship with Gerald—and the fact that Gerald had helped him out before—Roy wouldn’t have bothered asking Jack to keep the tanker here waiting.
Now, this whole fiasco was making Roy’s already sour mood even worse.
Gerald sighed, sensing Roy’s genuine anger, and quickly tried to smooth things over.
“I get it, Mr. Black! The FEA’s got your back. Frank Hammer wouldn’t dare do anything reckless!”
Roy smirked, thinking Gerald was a bit too confident. This wasn’t a sure thing at all.
The American military was notoriously tricky. They’d even crashed a White House plane sent to audit their books. Compromise wasn’t exactly their style.
If push came to shove, Roy might just have to teach this General Hammer a lesson. No matter how powerful he was, he only had one life.
“Fine. I’ll stay here for one day. After that, I’m gone.”
Roy had already wasted too much time at sea. It was August now, and if he delayed any longer, he’d miss the start of the school year.
Gerald nodded quickly.
“One day should be enough! By the way, Mr. Black, any tips about The Color Out of Space I should know?”
“When it died, those colorful substances it released seemed to die off too. But I can’t guarantee this sea is completely safe. Your people should avoid direct contact with the water and steer clear of eating any fish from here.”
“Naturally. The FEA’s not that sloppy!”
Roy wasn’t so sure. This world had been a chaotic mess for a while now.
“Also, the surviving colorful wisps have some hallucinogenic effects. Your team needs to be mentally prepared.”
The ocean floor had been breached by The Color Out of Space, causing leaks, but the remnants probably wouldn’t wash out anytime soon.
The oil spill might be a bigger issue, but that wasn’t Roy’s problem. Oil was more the military’s expertise anyway.
“Got it.”
“One more thing. The Color Out of Space’s nest is in the underground oil field tapped by the offshore rig. There are likely some remnants left, but it’s deep. You’ll have to figure out how to handle it.”
Gerald’s frown deepened. He was starting to wonder how Roy had managed to take down such a bizarre alien creature. Unlike Hammer, though, Gerald’s curiosity wasn’t reckless. He knew some questions were better left unasked.
“Alright, Mr. Black, just hang tight on the tanker. I’ll convince Frank Hammer soon.”
With that, Gerald headed back to the aircraft carrier.
On the tanker, everyone had gone through a round of strict inspections and questioning. The crew was on edge.
When Roy returned, Jack, as their spokesperson, approached him nervously.
“Uh, Mr. Black, when can we leave?”
He was back to calling him “Mr. Black,” a clear sign Jack was distancing himself.
Roy couldn’t blame him. Not everyone could stay chummy with him given his situation.
But if Jack didn’t want to be close, Roy would make sure he was at least intimidated.
With a blank stare, Roy released a sliver of his aura. Even a tiny bit of his power was enough to make an ordinary person feel like they’d been plunged into icy water.
Jack was sweating buckets, his legs trembling under the invisible pressure.
“You guys didn’t say anything you shouldn’t have, right?”
Roy was referring to his transformation ability. If that got out, it’d be a headache. The military would come sniffing around, and his peaceful days would be over.
Jack wiped his sweat.
“No, no! We didn’t say a word! Everyone on this ship just wants to get home safe.”
Roy nodded.
“Good. Go wait it out. We should have news by tomorrow at the latest.”
Relieved, Jack mumbled a quick goodbye and scurried off. Any longer, and he’d have needed new pants.
Roy lingered on the deck, taking a close look at the aircraft carrier and the FEA’s operations, before heading back to his room to make some calls and catch up with his girls.
But no sooner had he stepped inside than Janice slipped in behind him, catching him off guard.
Didn’t we agree last time was the last time?
“What’re you doing here?”
Janice closed the door and looked at Roy with a barely concealed grin.
“Jack told me to check on you.”
Roy: ???
Is this guy addicted to being cuckolded?
Or maybe he was so scared of Roy that he sent Janice to keep him company for peace of mind?
The latter seemed more likely.
Still, Roy was dumbfounded. He wasn’t some heartless monster—did Jack really need to be this afraid?
“Isn’t Jack overthinking this?”
Janice pursed her lips, finally breaking into a laugh.
“Is that so bad? I don’t think he’s overthinking at all!”
Roy could tell now—Jack’s decision probably came from something Janice said.
Whatever. Once he was back in America, Roy doubted he’d see Janice again. Might as well treat these few days as a fond memory.
“But I’m about to make some calls.”
“Then let’s do it like last time!”
Without hesitation, Janice tied up her hair and knelt down.
Roy let out a slow breath and patted her cheek.
“You’re such a greedy little kitten!”
Janice beamed at him, practically glowing with pride at the pat.
Roy pulled out his satellite phone and started dialing.
First call was to Jennifer and Nidi. He updated them on his situation, then flirted a bit.
Second call was to his parents, just to let them know he was okay.
Third call was to Heather and Penny to check in on their situation.
After safely returning to land, Heather and Penny had started organizing a salvage operation to recover gold and jewels from the sunken Antonia Graza.
Finnegan, Joey, and Trillian were especially enthusiastic about it.
Through Charles’s connections, they’d found a professional salvage company, and the salvage ship was already at sea.
“We’ll be at the Antonia Graza’s wreck site by tomorrow at the latest to start salvaging!” Heather said excitedly, updating Roy on their progress. Though she’d inherited the Sawyer family fortune and wasn’t short on cash, who could resist growing their wealth?
But Roy’s silence on the call made Heather suspicious.
“Hmm? Roy, you still listening?”
“Uh, yeah, of course I’m listening!”
“Really?”
Heather’s tone was skeptical, so Roy quickly changed the subject.
“Totally! Oh, how’s Charles doing?”
Heather’s mood instantly sank.
“Not great. Because of the Columbia incident, Mr. Weyland’s been hit with a ton of lawsuits, and his company’s shareholders are giving him hell. It’s taken a big toll on Serena too. She’s been really down, crying a lot lately.”
Roy fell silent.
There wasn’t much he could do about Charles’s situation. It was a freak accident, a black swan event. Charles just had to take the hit.
At least he was still alive, unlike the folks on the Santiago.
“Heather, once the gold and jewels from the Antonia Graza are salvaged, use them to help Charles get through this. Split the rest evenly between Trillian, Finnegan, Joey, and Katherine.”
“Roy, I was thinking the same thing. Hopefully Mr. Weyland can pull through.”
The conversation turned heavy.
Meanwhile, Janice, despite her mouth going numb, was still diligently “working.”
This woman really treated every moment with Roy like it was her last, pouring her all into it.
After a while, Penny took the phone to talk to Roy.
“Roy, Katherine wants to join your studio and work for you.”
Roy was surprised.
Once the Antonia Graza’s treasures were salvaged and split, Katherine would be set for life. Why join his studio?
“What’d she say?”
“Katherine said working for you feels safer, and since she’s getting older, she wants something stable.”
To clarify, Katherine was pushing fifty and nearing retirement age.
For the past two decades, she’d served Roland Gordon loyally as a dedicated, workaholic secretary.
After losing her boss, she felt lost, unsure of what to do next.
When she heard from Penny about Roy’s studio, Katherine jumped at the chance to join.
This was actually a win. Roy’s studio was a bit of a mess, staffed entirely by his girlfriends, who lacked professional experience.
Some things couldn’t just be taught through training. Katherine’s twenty-plus years of administrative expertise could help whip the studio into shape.
In the future, when Roy entered the professional boxing scene, the studio would come in handy.
“Have her take charge of the studio then. Penny, you can learn from her.”
“Got it! I will!”
Since Heather was busy managing the Sawyer family business, Penny had been temporarily overseeing the studio.
She was pretty invested in it, probably wanting to make something of herself.
With Katherine mentoring her, Roy could eventually trust Penny to run the studio full-time.
After some more sweet talk with the girls, Roy finally hung up.
Gulp, gulp…
Janice was just finishing her “traditional Beijing snack” of fermented bean juice.
“Phew, finally done! My cheeks are numb.”
She shot Roy a playful, sultry glance.
Roy shrugged.
“You’re the one who said you wanted it like last time!”
“Yeah, ‘cause I love it!”
Janice’s gaze was so intense it could practically melt.
“So, should we move to the next step?”
“Don’t you want a burger first?”
“Sure, I’m starving!”
Roy was hungry too, but Janice’s “burger” wasn’t exactly filling. He’d need something else.
The tanker’s walls weren’t exactly soundproof. With Jack’s tacit approval, Janice wasn’t even pretending anymore. By tomorrow, the whole ship would probably know what went down in this room.
Unfortunately, Janice, despite being a “greedy kitten,” had a small appetite.
She tapped out halfway, leaving Francesca to “clean up.”
As a result, Janice missed out on the “second bowl of bean juice,” which Francesca happily took.
By the time the “battle” wrapped up, it was nearly evening.
Roy, feeling peckish, headed to the tanker’s dining hall. Sure enough, the crew shot him weird looks.
No big deal—Roy’s skin was thick enough to shrug it off.
Jack was nowhere to be seen, probably too embarrassed to show his face.
Thanks to Gerald’s carrier group, the tanker was well-stocked. Roy could eat to his heart’s content.
But, as always, just when he was enjoying his meal, some idiot had to interrupt.
Two men in military uniforms stormed into the dining hall and approached Roy’s table.
“Mr Marea Black, General Hammer requests your presence for dinner.”
Roy glanced up. Both soldiers had stone-cold poker faces and a cocky attitude.
Heh, Hammer inviting me to dinner? Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all.
“Sorry, I’m already eating. No need to trouble General Hammer with a special meal.”
“General Hammer invited you, so you will comply!”
One of the soldiers reached to yank Roy up but couldn’t budge him.
Their words made Roy laugh in disbelief. Talk about underestimating me.
“Do you talk to the Secretary of Defense or the President like that?”
The soldiers swallowed hard. They wouldn’t dare mouth off to the Secretary of Defense or the President. They were only acting tough because Roy was just an “FEA freelance agent.”
The other soldier pulled out a pistol, scaring the crap out of the crew in the dining hall.
“Last chance. Are you coming or not?”
Roy looked at the guy like he was an idiot. Did they not do any research before this mission?
Or maybe the military had no idea who they were dealing with.
“Let me ask you one last time: Are you looking to die?”
Still Janice
Chapter 307: Watch My Cues
The soldier holding the gun was furious at Roy’s words and moved to cock the hammer to intimidate him further.
But he didn’t expect Roy to reach for the gun. Thinking Roy was trying to snatch it, the soldier instinctively pulled the trigger.
The moment he did, he regretted it—his orders weren’t to kill Roy.
Then, something shocking happened: Roy caught the bullet with his bare hand. Both men stood there, jaws practically on the floor.
Roy gave the two soldiers a cold stare.
“I’m giving you one chance to choose your words carefully.”
The soldiers felt their scalps tingle. Their confidence came from the firearms in their hands, but Roy had just shown them that guns were useless against him. They were at a loss for words or actions.
At that moment, Gerald rushed in with a few FEA agents.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Roy crossed his arms, smirking at Gerald.
“Just having a friendly chat with these two fine American soldiers, right?”
The soldiers didn’t dare shake their heads. If guns couldn’t stop Roy, what could they do?
Gerald knew exactly why these two were here—someone had tipped him off, which is why he got there so fast.
“You two, care to explain what General Hammer’s up to?”
The soldiers stiffened but managed to reply.
“General Hammer wants to invite Mr. Black to dinner.”
Gerald didn’t need to think hard to know these two had botched the invitation and pissed Roy off.
If it were Gerald, he’d have sent two pretty female soldiers in crisp uniforms—Roy would’ve been tripping over himself to attend.
“Since General Hammer’s inviting Mr. Black to dinner, mind if I tag along?”
The soldiers exchanged a glance, then nodded silently.
Gerald turned to Roy.
“Mr. Black, fancy a trip to an aircraft carrier with me?”
That piqued Roy’s interest.
“I’ve never been on one. Hope the food’s worth it.”
And so, Roy and Gerald followed the soldiers, taking a lifeboat to board the aircraft carrier.
The carrier felt different. Its deck was about the same height as the top deck of the San Diego.
And General Hammer had set up a dining table right on the flight deck for their meal—apparently not worried about the wind blowing too hard.
Hammer was surprised to see Gerald with Roy. When he glanced at the two soldiers he’d sent, their uneasy expressions told him something had gone down.
As a lieutenant general, Hammer understood basic social dynamics, but for the sake of his image, he sometimes had to play the hardass.
“Mr. Orin, didn’t expect you to show up.”
“General Hammer, am I not welcome?”
Hammer forced a stiff smile and waved for the soldiers to grab another chair.
The three sat around a square table on the carrier’s deck.
Roy looked around curiously. In both his lives, this was his first time on an aircraft carrier.
But staying on the deck wasn’t that exciting. He’d need to go inside to see the cool stuff.
Hammer, though, seemed intent on keeping Roy out of the carrier’s interior—hence the table on the deck.
Hammer chatted stiffly with Gerald for a bit before the chef started serving.
“Try this special roasted lamb chop.”
Three elegant plates were placed on the table, each with a sizable lamb chop that looked tempting.
But Roy curled his lip. This tiny portion wouldn’t even fill the gaps in his teeth.
Hammer noticed Roy’s expression.
“Mr. Black, don’t like the dish?”
Roy grinned.
“Just wondering if this lamb is that million-dollar golden lamb.”
Hammer’s face darkened.
“Who told you that?”
No way—were they already pulling the $6 million for nine lambs stunt?
“I forgot who mentioned it. Problem?”
Hammer couldn’t admit there was an issue without incriminating himself, so he just glared at Roy, setting a sour tone for the evening.
Gerald sensed trouble and tried to change the subject.
“General Hammer, what’s the reason for inviting Mr. Black?”
Hammer glanced at Gerald but dodged the question.
“That’s classified military business. I can’t share.”
He was clearly stonewalling, and Gerald wasn’t pleased.
“General Hammer, Mr. Black is FEA. You got a problem with him, you go through me.”
Gerald’s tone turned sharp.
Clearly, if Hammer didn’t explain, Roy’s temper could make things messy.
To keep things from escalating, Gerald had to push harder.
Hammer frowned, annoyed at Gerald’s attitude, but he knew he was in the wrong. Even if this went to the White House, he’d have no ground to stand on.
Reluctantly, Hammer explained.
“I have a top-secret mission for Mr. Black. My earlier actions were just to test if he’s up to the task.”
Roy shot Hammer a surprised look, thinking, You call that a test? Keep it up, and I’ll knock your head off.
Hammer’s explanation didn’t satisfy Gerald, who pressed further.
“If it’s a mission, you should’ve informed FEA. Roy’s our agent!”
Gerald’s relentless questioning started to irk Hammer.
“The military doesn’t answer to you, Mr. Orin!”
“Black’s my guy, so I have every right to ask!”
The two went head-to-head over Roy, but Roy was busy savoring the lamb chop.
It was delicious—tender, juicy, and free of any gamey taste.
Shame there wasn’t more. Roy polished it off in a few bites.
Then, as Hammer and Gerald glared at each other, Roy piped up.
“Excuse me, got any more lamb chops?”
Hammer shot Roy a look and called his aide.
“Get him another portion!”
“Wait, one’s not enough! Just roast a whole lamb and bring it over.”
Roy didn’t hold back, directing Hammer’s aide, who hesitated and looked to Hammer.
Hammer’s mood soured further, dropping all formalities.
“Kid, you think you can eat a whole lamb?”
“Heh! Bring three lambs, and I’ll still finish them!”
Back at the cruise ship’s restaurant, Hammer’s soldiers had interrupted Roy’s meal just as he’d started, so he’d barely eaten.
This lamb was nowhere near enough!
Hammer glared at Roy.
“Fine! I hate big talkers. I’ll have the chef prepare three lambs’ worth of meat. You eat it all in front of me, and I’ll let today’s incident slide. If you can’t… hmph!”
Gerald caught on and gave Roy a subtle look, their eyes locking in silent communication.
Back at the Dolphin Hotel in L.A., Gerald had seen Roy’s insane appetite. It was already wild then, and it was probably even crazier now.
Gerald: Black, you got this?
Roy: No problem at all!
Gerald: Alright, I’m setting a trap for this guy. Watch my cues!
Watch his cues?
Roy stared at Gerald’s dark face, thinking, How the hell am I supposed to read that?
Before he could ask Gerald to clarify, Gerald was already looking at Hammer with mock concern.
“General Hammer, how’s anyone supposed to eat three lambs? That’s unfair!”
Hammer crossed his arms, unwavering.
“He said it himself! A soldier keeps his word!”
“But Black’s not a soldier. He doesn’t have to!”
Gerald’s defiance nearly pushed Hammer to spit out a certain N-word.
“Then what do you want?”
“If you’re betting against Black, shouldn’t you put something on the line?”
“I said if Black finishes three lambs, I won’t pursue his mistakes today!”
“Black didn’t make any mistakes! He reported the Color Out of Space—he’s got merit!”
Gerald didn’t give Hammer an inch, pointing out the flaw in his words, which infuriated Hammer.
“Then what do you want?!”
The words practically squeezed through Hammer’s gritted teeth—he was livid.
“General Hammer, you’re a soldier, so I’ll be straight. Let’s make a bet. If Roy can’t finish three lambs, he and I are at your mercy. But if he does, you tell us who sent you after him!”
“Deal!”
Hammer blurted out the word but immediately realized his mistake.
“Wait, you’re baiting me?”
Gerald dropped the tough act, a faint smile on his face.
“General Hammer, a soldier keeps his word.”
Hammer had just said that, so he couldn’t back out now.
“Fine! Let’s see if Mr. Black can eat three lambs. If he can’t, you’re both done!”
Hammer knew he’d been played but had to save face.
Gerald gestured to Roy, signaling it was his time to shine.
Roy flashed an OK sign.
Soon, the chef brought out a massive platter of lamb. Roy dove in like a storm.
The sheer volume meant this batch wasn’t as refined as the earlier chop, but the quality of the meat was top-notch, so it still tasted great.
Hammer watched, wide-eyed, as Roy demolished the platter. The kicker? Roy’s stomach barely bulged, meaning he could keep going.
Plate after plate vanished into Roy’s gut. Hammer’s expression went from a frown to shock to complete numbness.
He’d lived a lifetime’s worth of emotions in one meal.
In the end, Roy ate eight lambs’ worth of meat before leaning back, satisfied.
“Burp! Man, I haven’t eaten this well in ages!”
Even at home, no one had the time or energy to cook this much for Roy, so he was usually half-hungry. This was a rare treat.
Gerald glanced at Roy’s slightly bloated stomach, his lips twitching. He’d known Roy could eat, but this much?
If Roy had eaten like this at the Dolphin Hotel, he might’ve bankrupted the place.
“Ahem! General Hammer, Black’s eaten eight lambs’ worth. Anything to say?”
Hammer glared at Gerald.
“I keep my word. No need for reminders!”
Hammer knew Gerald had trapped him, and he was pissed, but he honored the bet.
“Recently, a project I’m overseeing hit a ‘small snag.’ Our partner, Armacham Corporation, suggested an FEA agent named Roy Black to handle it.”
Roy and Gerald exchanged a look. Armacham Corporation again?
That company was like a bad penny. Last time, they’d sent a senior FEA agent to mess with Roy, but Gerald caught them.
FEA headquarters had issued a stern warning to Armacham, and things had been quiet for a few months.
Guess Armacham was getting restless again.
“General Hammer, was the suggestion from someone named Bartholomew?”
Roy couldn’t help but ask.
Hammer looked at Roy oddly.
“Bartholomew? The COO of Armacham? Why would she suggest this?”
Not Bartholomew? Then who?
Gerald voiced Roy’s thoughts.
“General Hammer, can you tell us who made the suggestion?”
Hammer’s face twisted, clearly wrestling with the question. This was military classified info.
Spill, and he’d leak secrets. Stay quiet, and he’d break his promise.
After a long pause, Hammer growled at Gerald.
“All I’ll say is it came from the project’s research team.”
Research team?
Roy was even more confused. He didn’t know any of Armacham’s researchers.
Gerald shot Roy a look, likely guessing who it was.
Their goal for the night achieved, Gerald prepared to leave with Roy.
“General Hammer, thanks for the hospitality. It’s getting late, so we’ll take our leave.”
“Wait!”
Kelly Brook’s pics are so hard to get approved…
Chapter 308: Top-Secret Mission
As soon as Hammer heard that Roy and Gerald were about to leave, he immediately called out to stop them.
Tonight, Hammer had not only lost eight sheep but also his pride. There was no way he’d let Roy and Gerald slip away so easily.
At Hammer’s command, a few guards blocked their path.
“General Hammer, what’s the meaning of this?” Roy asked, glaring at him with dissatisfaction.
Hammer waved his hand, signaling the guards to stand down, then fixed Roy with a sincere look.
“Mr. Black, I’m hoping you’ll consider helping me deal with this mess. I’d owe you a personal favor,” Hammer said earnestly.
He sounded almost desperate, even offering a favor, which was a big deal. Clearly, the trouble he was facing wasn’t trivial.
But Roy’s expression turned odd after hearing Hammer’s words.
“General Hammer, did the person who suggested this to you mention that I’ve had a run-in with Amacham Corporation?” Roy asked.
Hammer froze. He genuinely hadn’t known about this.
“Is that true?” he asked, surprised.
Gerald stepped forward to back Roy up. “It’s true. Black once stumbled upon a serious bio-leak incident in Nevada. At the time, he didn’t know it was caused by Amacham’s secret experiments, and that led to a conflict. Afterward, Amacham tried multiple times to make trouble for Roy. Just a few months ago, FEA headquarters warned Amacham’s chairman, Genevieve Aristide, to back off.”
Hammer’s face darkened instantly. “That damn Amacham Corporation! They dared to use me!” he cursed, realizing he’d been played.
Gerald, meanwhile, seized the moment to fan the flames with a sly tone. “Exactly. Amacham’s been getting more brazen these past few years. Take that Nevada incident—they tried to wipe out an entire town with mercenaries to cover their tracks. Seems like Amacham’s forgotten why they even have their current status with the Pentagon.”
Hammer’s face grew so dark it could rival Gerald’s. For a traditional patriot like Hammer, Amacham’s actions were way over the line.
Amacham had earned its Pentagon connections by supplying resources during World War II. To an old-school soldier like Hammer, their behavior was a betrayal.
Gerald didn’t push further. Saying too much might seem deliberate and could backfire if Hammer caught on later.
“I’ll settle accounts with Amacham later, but first, we need to deal with the problem at hand,” Hammer said, turning to Roy. “Mr. Black, can I trust you?”
Roy exchanged a glance with Gerald.
Truth be told, a favor from a powerful Navy lieutenant general was no small thing. But Roy didn’t know much about Hammer’s background, so he hesitated.
“General Hammer, I need to discuss this with Mr. Olin before deciding. Can we have some privacy?” Roy asked.
“Of course,” Hammer replied.
Roy and Gerald walked to the far end of the aircraft carrier’s deck, hundreds of meters from Hammer. Even shouting wouldn’t carry that far.
In the distance, FEA agents were working through the night under a rickety offshore drilling platform, their spotlights turning the area bright as day.
“Mr. Olin, what do you know about this Lieutenant General Frank Hammer?” Roy asked.
“I’ve heard of him,” Gerald replied. “He’s a very old-school soldier, doesn’t tolerate any nonsense. The Pentagon speaks highly of him, and the rank-and-file soldiers respect him deeply.”
Gerald shared more about Hammer, painting a fuller picture in Roy’s mind: a man who rose from the bottom through military merit, cared deeply for his troops, and was stubbornly traditional. It was a familiar archetype in movies, but rare in real-life America.
Roy rubbed his chin, thinking it over, then looked at Gerald. “Mr. Olin, do you think General Hammer’s reliable?”
Gerald had a hunch about Roy’s intentions. When someone asks a question like that, they usually already have an answer in mind—they just need a reason to go with it.
So Gerald began to break it down. “Mr. Black, overall, General Hammer’s pretty trustworthy. You saw how he handled losing that bet earlier. Amacham’s been so bold because of their strong Pentagon ties. I think it’s worth building alliances within the military to counter them.”
Hammer’s reaction showed he was already fed up with Amacham. With a little push, he could become a key player in an anti-Amacham military faction.
Roy was tired of Amacham’s constant scheming. This was a chance to take the fight to them and keep them too busy to pull their usual stunts.
“You make a good point,” Roy said. “I’ll work with General Hammer then.”
Gerald grinned. “I can’t wait to see the look on Bartholomew’s face.”
“Same here!” Roy replied.
Later, a warship quietly broke away from the carrier group and headed toward the Hawaiian Islands.
Roy slept until noon the next day, waking up in the warm equatorial climate. It was his first time sleeping on a warship, and the experience felt fresh.
Too bad there wasn’t a pretty female soldier to share the night with. Hammer might need Roy’s help, but he wasn’t that desperate.
At the ship’s mess hall, Roy’s appetite shocked the American soldiers. There’s an old saying: the more you eat, the stronger you are. In ancient times, a warrior’s strength was often judged by how much they could eat. That’s where the phrase “Is Lian Po too old to eat?” comes from.
In the strength-worshipping American military, eating a lot was a badge of honor. Some soldiers even recognized Roy as the new Olympic heavyweight boxing champion and came over for autographs.
Knowing Roy’s massive appetite, the mess hall went all out to keep him fed, leaving him thoroughly satisfied.
At least Hammer’s attitude was solid, and Roy’s impression of him started to improve.
“Mr. Black, how’d you sleep last night?” Hammer asked, suddenly appearing in the mess hall with a tray of food and sitting across from Roy.
Roy glanced at Hammer’s plate—it was piled high, almost like a young athlete’s portion. Normally, younger guys eat more because of growth and fast metabolism. But at Hammer’s age, appetites usually shrink. Roy wondered if Hammer was trying to show off after seeing Roy devour eight sheep the night before.
“Slept great, nice and sound,” Roy replied.
Hammer flashed a stiff smile. Honestly, Roy wished he wouldn’t. The smile was uglier than Gerald’s, scary enough to give kids nightmares. Didn’t Hammer’s kids get childhood trauma from that face?
“Good to hear. I was a bit worried you wouldn’t sleep well,” Hammer said, starting on his lunch.
He ate at a steady pace, not wolfing it down like Roy. Roy noticed the soldiers around them didn’t bat an eye at Hammer’s presence.
“General Hammer, do you always eat in the main mess hall?” Roy asked.
“Yep, unless there’s a special guest, I eat with the soldiers here,” Hammer said.
Roy understood why Gerald said Hammer was so respected by the rank-and-file. A general eating in the mess hall every day was far more relatable than some officer hiding in their quarters sipping wine and eating gold-crusted lamb.
But respect aside, Hammer had clearly taken too much food today. He slowed down, each bite looking like torture.
Roy, holding back a laugh, couldn’t resist. “General, if it’s too much, don’t force it. It’s not good for you.”
His well-meaning advice only sparked Hammer’s stubbornness. “Who said I can’t handle it? Wasting food is shameful in the military!”
With that, Hammer shoved the last few pieces of bread into his mouth, nearly gagging. He covered his mouth to avoid embarrassment.
“Mr. Black, after lunch, come to my office. I’ll step out for a bit,” Hammer said, rushing off, probably to the bathroom to throw up.
Roy shook his head. He’d warned the old man not to overdo it, but Hammer wouldn’t listen. Now look at him.
After finishing his own lunch, Roy was about to ask a soldier for directions to Hammer’s office when a brunette woman in a military uniform approached.
“Mr. Black, follow me,” she said.
Roy looked up, feeling like he’d seen her before. Then it clicked—she looked like Perkins, the assassin hired by Viggo Tarasov to kill John Wick in John Wick (played by Adrianne Palicki). What was she doing here instead of working at the Continental?
Noticing Roy’s unabashed stare, the woman’s eyes flashed with annoyance. She hated being gawked at, even if Roy was a rare handsome guy.
In her mind, good-looking guys were synonymous with pretty boys and weaklings. Sure, Roy looked muscular, but muscles didn’t mean fighting skills. Gym rats with steroid-pumped “dead” muscles were just for show, useless in a real fight.
“Mr. Black, are you listening?” she snapped, pulling Roy out of his thoughts.
He flashed a sunny smile. “Ma’am, may I have your name?”
Her irritation grew. As Hammer’s guest, Roy wasn’t someone she could brush off, so she answered stiffly, “You can call me Miss Jay. Can we go to the general’s office now?”
Jay sounded like a codename. Roy hadn’t expected Hammer to have such a beauty by his side, keeping her hidden like that.
“Lead the way,” Roy said, mentally grumbling about Hammer as he followed Jay out of the mess hall.
In the warship’s largest office, Hammer looked rough—probably from vomiting too much. At his age, he should’ve known when to quit.
“General, I’ve brought him,” Jay said.
“Mr. Black, good to see you,” Hammer replied.
Jay, having completed her task, stood behind Hammer.
“General Hammer, is this about the mission?” Roy asked.
“Yes. Let Intelligence Officer Jay brief you on the situation. Miss Jay, tell Roy about Project Canyon,” Hammer said.
After vomiting, the throat feels raw, and talking’s a pain—Hammer was clearly in that state, so he passed the task to Jay.
“General, Project Canyon is top-secret. How can we tell him?” Jay asked, apparently unaware of Hammer’s plan to involve Roy.
Hammer rubbed his temples, exasperated. “I know it’s classified. I’ve authorized FEA Agent Roy Black to be briefed. He’ll handle the mess with Project Canyon.”
Jay’s shock deepened. “This pretty boy?”
Roy shot her a glare. He hated being called a pretty boy. What’s wrong with being handsome? It’s not like he was eating her food.
And small? Please, she wouldn’t be able to handle… ahem!
“Mr. Black has handled many dangerous incidents. He’s perfect for Project Canyon. Miss Jay, no more arguments—follow orders!” Hammer said firmly.
At the mention of orders, Jay clammed up. She turned Hammer’s laptop toward Roy and played a video showing a lush tropical island.
“This island in the Pacific is called Mist Island,” Jay began. “Years ago, a fisherman discovered it and saw species unlike anything else. The federal government sealed it off.”
Roy studied the video. “Why call it Mist Island? I don’t see any mist.”
“The island’s central canyon is shrouded in fog year-round, and that’s where the unique species are. About ten years ago, the Pentagon partnered with Amacham to study the canyon’s special lifeforms. But recently, we lost all contact with the research base there.”
Great, another classic bio-leak incident. America seemed to need a yearly spill to feel complete.
Miss Jay (Adrianne Palicki)
