Hearing that the Emperor wanted to see him, Gideon Malick instantly straightened his back. The crumpled old dog who had been slumped on the sofa vanished at once. He knew his woman would not have returned to the United States from that "Dreamland" for no reason, and the antique brandy he had just drunk had not been free either. Gideon Malick had only met the Emperor twice from beginning to end: once at Malick Estate, and once at the Malik family's ancestral home in the Alps, the birthplace of European Hydra. Each time, the oppressive feeling the Emperor brought him took a long time to shake off.
He had always believed that facing such a powerful soul was harmful to one's health. An aging mind would turn to ashes beneath stellar radiance. After every meeting, he needed a psychiatrist and a long period of recuperation. It was psychological trauma that not even life-extension surgery could save him from. But when the summons came, he had no choice but to take it seriously, because he now had a master. All Hydra now had a master they could not defy.
"Does our master want me to conceal something?"
Gideon Malick spoke pointedly, yet habitually kept his words vague.
Stephanie sighed. This would be the Malik family's main task in North America for some time to come.
The possibility of hiding a Carrier Strike Group was minuscule, and replenishing it with crew without leaving traces was nearly impossible. Fortunately, the Seventh Fleet had not been conducting flight training at the time, so there was no need to replace the pilots. Even so, the workload would not be small. For the foreseeable future, the Malik family and the other Conservative Hydra families would have to devote themselves wholeheartedly to this task.
"We cannot go