Before dawn.
"Phew—"
At Silver Moon's largest airport, a private plane slowly glided to a stop.
The moment it came to a halt, several figures stepped forward to greet it. One of them, judging by his features, was surprisingly the foremost figure among the Foreigners in Silver Moon.
"Welcome, Lord Brendan."
The first to emerge from the plane was a burly figure completely shrouded in a black robe, standing a full two meters sixty tall. Only afterward did an elderly Foreigner in a tailored formal suit descend under the protection of several mercenaries, followed by several researchers in white lab coats.
The person the greeters had been waiting for was that elderly man—a financial magnate expert whose body could withstand top-tier Half-Immortal-level genetic modification.
"Let's go. Take a look at where Wyatt met with trouble."
Before long, the group arrived at the hotel, which had long since been sealed off.
By then, everything of use on the ninth and tenth floors had already been removed. Naturally, none of the refined raw materials could possibly have been left behind. With a wave of the blond, blue-eyed elder's hand, several professional cleaners stepped forward, began taking photographs, then meticulously cleared away and destroyed every trace in the laboratory that could not see the light of day.
The elderly Foreigner came to where the axe-wielder had lain, crouched to inspect his injuries in detail, then ran a hand over the collapsed wall beside him.
"Are the results out yet?"
He looked toward the researchers bustling about with their instruments.
Everyone outside believed that the axe-wielder beside Wyatt possessed overall strength above the fifth rank and close to the sixth, and that a sixth-rank boxer would be enough to deal with him. But he knew better.
It was more than that.
What long-standing financial