ao FanBoth sisters-in-law were probably still waiting for me upstairs, eyes fixed hopefully.The fat man was in a panic. He suddenly struggled, and as if possessed, he used the Thousand Jin Drop techni...11:30, it's late.

Most people in the Eastern Hemisphere have gone to sleep after a long day's work.

Those who are busy figuring out how to work tomorrow, how to pay their monthly mortgage, and whether they can still use cigarette money to buy toys for their children, certainly won't be like some people, who are now fully energized, staring intently at the television, waiting for a moment of triumph.

The Eastern Hemisphere is a glittering expanse of stars in the dead of night.

The West Hemisphere is bathed in scorching sunlight. On the streets, it's a sea of beauties with legs on display, their sexy waists swaying and hips gyrating, releasing an energy **more intense than any gift**. — Meanwhile, some are glued to their television screens.

Who could have imagined that on opposite sides of the globe, in two different countries, total strangers would be waiting for the same exciting moment to arrive.

Those hands were clasped together, rubbing against each other in front of his face non-stop. His eyes were full of eagerness, just like a super fan at the opening match of the World Cup.

"Seven, six, five, four, three—"

As these people's excitement surged to a new level, someone couldn't help but start the countdown: "Begin!"

I believe everyone has seen the news broadcast, right

On time, the moment it arrived, familiar music would come through, signaling that this was the highest-rated program, also the most nonsensical, often giving the people empty promises and grand schemes.

This program, which these people have been waiting for eagerly, is much more exciting than any of the golden programs everyone knows.

Because as far back as the last century, some of them had already enjoyed this wonderful show.

Although they had to wait for over twenty years, they were finally able to see the start of the exciting program. The wait was long, but their excitement remained high.

Mr. Pela, who had admired this program for over twenty years, was particularly present.

More than two decades ago, Mr. Peila was just a small agent of the US CIA, but a chance encounter changed his fate dramatically.

He had unwittingly met a high-ranking figure in the Chinese military - such a thing was top secret. Mr. Peira dared not speak of it, nor even dare to think back on it.

Anyway, it was that time when he got top-secret military intelligence from a bigwig in the Huaxia military that changed his destiny.

Of course, Mr. Peela still paid a certain price for this. For example, he pushed his new bride into the arms of a high-ranking Chinese military official. However, in the end, they were both killed by despicable Chinese agents while they were having sex in Hawaii.

Luckily, in this world, as long as men have money and status, they can definitely find a beautiful woman to serve them just by closing their eyes.

Furthermore, after more than twenty years, God once again favored Mr. Peira, allowing him to obtain another chance to change his fate from the Shen family in South Korea

"The fat woman in the house should be replaced with a beautiful young girl."

Mr. Peira thought to himself, and pulled a cigar out of his pocket.

Immediately, the Asian man sitting next to him eagerly took out his lighter.

This person is Korean, surnamed Shen.

As for his name, Mr. Peela had forgotten it.

After all, he wasn't the young man of twenty years ago anymore. It was normal for his mind to not be as sharp. As long as he could remember how much money he had in his gray savings accounts, the contact information and addresses of his little mistresses, Mr. Peira wouldn't bother remembering who Mrs. Shen was.

However, seeing how diligent he was, Mr. Pila decided to grace him with a few words.

Just like that, Mr. Pei remained glued to the television, feigning indifference as he said, "Mr. Shen, your family's business dealings this time around aren't very honorable, are they"

Mr. Shen smiled and replied, "Mr. Perra, how do you say that"

Mr. Peira said calmly, "Nothing much, just that, to my knowledge, the Shen family did not sell this information only to us. There should also be the Orient and your own country as well."

Mr. Shen said calmly, “Well well, Mr. Perra, you should know very well that there's still a gap between exclusive news and non-exclusive news. The price I'm giving you isn't friendship pricing, but it's definitely discounted.”

Mr. Perra frowned, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "Mr. Shen," he said, "you're giving me a discount because you can't be sure about the accuracy of this information, aren't you"

Mr. Shen's smile gradually faded, replaced by a hint of displeasure. His tone became neutral as he spoke: "Mr. Perra, if I can confirm the accuracy of this information and it is still available at the current price, would that be possible Before we agreed to this, I made it clear that we cannot guarantee the accuracy of the information. As for whether you choose to purchase it, that depends on your own analysis and investigation before making a decision."

Mr. Shen is right, and Mr. Peila understands that very well.

When the two parties first met, Mr. Shen not only explicitly stated these points but also wrote down the uncertainties in the contract.

Mr. Peira didn't need to ask; he knew that the Shen family was selling this top-secret military intelligence to him while simultaneously peddling the same information to the Orientals.

He had no right to blame the Shen family.

This business, after all, is inherently a gamble, especially when it comes to large deals. It really tests the depth of the buyer's vision.

Like gambling on stones.

You can't demand your money back from the vendor just because you didn't see jade after cutting open a rough stone, right

After meeting with Mr. Shen, Mr. Perra immediately reported to the top leadership of the CIA.

Concerning the largest-scale live-fire exercise in Chinese history in the 21st century, this is undoubtedly a major event for the United States and must be treated with utmost seriousness. It's crucial to utilize all potential sources of intelligence within China, employing any means necessary and sacrificing anything required to obtain the latest information. This will help determine the authenticity of this highly classified military intelligence.

It has to be said that the CIA is still very impressive, worthy of being the world's best intelligence agency. They even managed to place an informant within Dali Duanjia—a cook.

The cook's status in the Duan family was low, and she had no power to participate in the core meetings of the Duan family. However, she could truthfully report everything that happened in the Duan family to the CIA.

As for the incident where, due to pressure here, the cook took a risk and ended up getting caught after an accident, Mr. Pela expressed deep regret, not because of her life or death, but because she failed to provide the CIA with more useful information before being exposed.

It was precisely through Duan Jia's cook and information gathered from various sources that the CIA finally confirmed the credibility of the top-secret military intelligence provided by the Shen family in Seoul, reaching a high level of 60%.

For those who live their lives immersed in the hustle and bustle of business, a 10% chance would be enough to take the plunge. What about a 60% chance then

Do.

It has to be done!

Thus, this is how it came to be that tonight, Mr. Peira sat here waiting for his fate to change once more.

If the intel is true, he'll be one step closer to the top.

If it's false—sorry, the CIA is never going to take responsibility for errors in intelligence analysis. That black pot can only be carried by Mr. Pelea.

The greater the interest, the higher the risk. This is certain.

Mr. Peila, who understood this very well, was pricked by Mr. Shen's neither soft nor hard words, and too lazy to pay any more attention to him, he raised his head and looked at the television.

The evening news on TV had already started broadcasting.

Of course, at the beginning, it was natural to play up how the president was so devoted to the people. Even beautiful women eagerly threw themselves at him, but they couldn't shake his heart that was dedicated to serving the public good. By noon, the sun blazed like fire, and he was still in his office by the window, using his deep eyes to contemplate where those homeless men could stay for the night. He racked his brains over it.

When the television screen switched to international news, a man in a black suit walked quickly over and whispered something in Mr. Pila's ear.

Mr. Peira, who was sitting calmly in his boss's chair, sprang up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on and hurried to the door.

I hadn't gone out a few meters when the door opened.

A bald old man, surrounded by a dozen or so people, strode in.

The head of the CIA was right there, among them.

"Mr. Nyuusen, you, you've come."

Although Mr. Peale did not vote for Mr. Newsom during his presidential campaign, this did not affect his admiration for him in the slightest.

Even at this moment, he had some regrets: “Maybe when I voted, I could have voted for Mr. Newsom, then he wouldn’t be the vice president.”

"Well, everyone's worked hard."

Mr. Nilsen glanced at Mr. Pella, and without waiting for an invitation, strode over to the chair he had been sitting in and sat down with a thud.

It is obvious that Mr. Newsom, as Vice President, is also highly concerned about the leak of classified military intelligence from China.

Otherwise, Mr. Nielsen, who is busy with a thousand things every day, would never come to the CIA under the pretext of an inspection just to watch TV.

Outside, there might still be reporters.

Peira, who had already been pulled to the window, looked out and sure enough saw several interview cars speeding towards them from afar.

"Today, is the day I make my appearance."

Pela was once again incredibly eager.

He was a key player in the "Slander China" mission, holding a position that wasn't too high or too low, making him just the right person to accept interviews from news reporters.

Perla swore that later, she would definitely bring out her best and talk eloquently to the camera.

Soon, the news was over—some things are best left unsaid and unwritten to avoid trouble. In any case, Mr. Perra could be certain that after this report aired, the ambassador of the Chinese Embassy in the United States would immediately call to protest to the American government.

But what about this

Mr. Peeler is just a small fry. All he has to do right now is face the camera and talk up the CIA, how amazing it is, and how brilliant he is for getting this earth-shattering top-secret military intelligence ahead of everyone else.

Before he could finish his words, a small bearded reporter thrust a microphone in his face: "Mr. Peira, I'm Larkas, a reporter for the New York branch of the American Broadcasting Corporation. Can you tell us how accurate the news just reported is"

“100% true.”

Mr. Pera answered without hesitation.

"Wow, Mr. Perra, you're awfully confident, aren't you"

Immediately, reporters were astonished.

When Peira smiled faintly, she deliberately turned her head to glance at four o'clock.

Immediately, someone keenly caught sight of his diligence and unconsciously looked over. Upon seeing him, their eyes lit up: "My goodness, Mr. Nyson is here too!"

Mr. Newsom's presence here proves that he also agrees with what Mr. Peltola just said.

He was immediately interviewed by reporters, asking this staunchly anti-China hawk for his take on the situation.

"I just want to say one thing."

Mr. Nunes faced the camera, raised a finger, and said: "If there is a war between Hua Mei and our side, we can absolutely destroy all of their weapon bases in the shortest possible time."

"Why are you so confident"

When asked by a reporter, Mr. Pera readily responded: "If we can get all the classified military intelligence about the upcoming live-fire exercises in Xia that are about to begin, what else is there we can't do"

“Hooray, long live!”

The CIA meeting room erupted in cheers.

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