69 Weapon Confirmation

The three Hellhound members moving the grenades were Carl, Oliver, and Jack.

With Hanz's help, they had infiltrated the Hellhounds. Their current identities were Hellhound recruits who, due to their outstanding performance, had been selected for the chance to enter this satellite armory.

As for the other four Hellhound members, three of them had been planted by Hanz. They were the very people Hanz had once said "needed guidance"—and such "guidance" naturally required a personal demonstration to feel real. The moment Hanz had said that, Carl had understood.

The only people in the entire satellite armory who did not belong to Hanz's faction were Captain Carl-Taylor, the manager, and one ordinary member who knew nothing about it.

It had to be said that being able to extend his reach this far within the Hellhounds—even if it was only a small satellite armory—was enough to show just how extraordinary Hanz's methods were.

The crate settled steadily into the blastproof cabinet in the isolation room with a dull thud. The three Hellhound members who had seemed clumsy just moments ago—Carl, Oliver, and Jack—exchanged glances, and the panic and inexperience they had feigned vanished instantly.

Captain Carl-Taylor stood with her back to them, still directing the other members, unaware of the subtle shift in the atmosphere behind her.

"You four, go count the assault rifles and ammunition on the western racks," Carl-Taylor ordered without looking back, her tone still carrying a trace of irritation. "And you three, the list is on the terminal. Check the quantities and production batches. Don't mix them up again!"

"Yes, Captain."

As the response came, the three of Hanz's people among the other four members immediately understood. They answered at once and moved in tacit coordination toward the western weapon racks, subtly sandwiching the one clueless member between