125: Chapter 125 Jiang Jiuyou, the seventh?

She stood there, her combat boots together and her back straight.

The belt of her military overcoat was cinched tight, molding her tall figure into an almost exaggerated waist-to-hip ratio.

The collar of her black turtleneck pressed against her jawline, making the contours of her cold face appear even sharper.

"I've handed over everything I own."

"Boss Chen—"

It was the first time she had used that title. Her voice trailed up slightly at the end, carrying a hint of tentative playfulness.

"What position do I get?"

She took a step forward.

That cold scent, somewhere between metal and ice and snow, drifted over with her movement.

"Or rather—"

She moved half a step closer.

The sky's light outside the panoramic window reflected in her ice-blue eyes, her pupils narrowing into a thin line.

"How do you plan to arrange things for me?"

Chen Chen put the core into his storage ring.

"That speech you gave down there just now—how long did you prepare it?"

Jiang Jiuyou hadn't expected him to ask that and froze for half a second.

"From the moment I saw that Matrix on your roof. About—" She thought for a moment, "forty seconds."

"A strategy of retreating to advance conceived in forty seconds is ten times better than the joint command Iron Wall prepared for three hours."

The corner of Jiang Jiuyou's mouth curved up slightly.

"And so?"

"So you are very smart."

Chen Chen stood up from the driver's seat.

He was nearly half a head taller than her.

The light from the panoramic window shone from behind him, casting his silhouette into a dark profile.

"Smart people are best suited for one thing."

"What?"

"Helping me manage people."

Jiang Jiuyou's eyelashes fluttered.

Managing people.

The weight of those two words was much heavier than "second-in-command."

Iron Wall had troops, but since he was just forced to submit, he would certainly harbor resentment.

The drifters had joined just for a meal; their loyalty was zero.

In a group of nearly two hundred people, only someone who had suffered losses, seen blood, and was ruthless enough could keep them in line.

"In the eyes of the people below, you are the first leader of a major power to submit voluntarily."

Chen Chen leaned against the edge of the console. "They will listen to you."

"Are you trying to feed me empty promises?"

Jiang Jiuyou tilted her head, a stray lock of hair falling from her temple and brushing against the slender line of muscle on her swan-like neck.

"Empty promises won't keep me full."

Chen Chen raised his hand and took out a piece of Icefield Mammoth Tenderloin from his storage ring.

The fist-sized piece of top-grade meat shimmered with an oily luster under the cold light of the control tower, and a rich meaty aroma instantly filled the small space.

He handed it over.

Jiang Jiuyou looked down at the meat, then back up at Chen Chen.

"Are you feeding a dog?"

"Are you going to eat it or not?"

Jiang Jiuyou's brows knit together.

Three seconds later, she reached out, took it, and took a bite.

Juice exploded between her teeth.

Her chewing paused for a beat.

Something in her ice-blue eyes softened—it was the tenth day of the apocalypse, and she could no longer remember the last time she had eaten food with such high calories and such a great texture.

"...It's delicious."

When those words escaped Jiang Jiuyou's mouth, even she was a bit surprised.

Chen Chen said nothing.

Jiang Jiuyou took a second bite, slowly chewing and swallowing.

Then she wiped the corner of her mouth, returning to her expression of bone-deep cold elegance.

"I can manage the people. But I have one condition."

"Speak."

"After the next map opens, I want a guarantee that the core members of the Hidden Department—the twelve people I trained personally—will stay alive."

Chen Chen studied her for two seconds.

"They can stay alive, but they have to be useful."

"Don't worry."

Jiang Jiuyou stuffed the rest of the meat into her mouth and added indistinctly, "The people I pick aren't useless."

She finished eating.

She licked a grease stain off her thumb, then, realizing the action didn't fit her persona as the controller of a Conglomerate's Hidden Department, she quickly pulled her hand back.

Chen Chen saw it.

"You still haven't answered the question I asked back at the tavern."

Jiang Jiuyou's fingers stiffened.

"Which one?"

"When you said it 'counts,' which sentence were you referring to exactly?"

The control tower fell silent for three seconds.

Outside the panoramic window, Iron Wall was leading several officers toward Shen Wanbing's registration point.

The crowd below was noisy and boisterous, but the soundproofing on the fourth floor was excellent; not a single sound reached them.

Jiang Jiuyou turned around to face the panoramic window.

Her back was very straight.

The belt of her military overcoat was tied into a neat knot at the back, the hem just covering the tops of her thighs.

The heel of her tactical boot clicked against the metal floor.

"There are six women on your vehicle."

"If I get on your vehicle, I'll be the seventh."

"Your math is good."

Jiang Jiuyou turned her head halfway.

Extremely complex emotions swirled in her ice-blue eyes.

"I, Jiang Jiuyou, have never ranked seventh in my life."

Chen Chen's mouth twitched.

"Then what rank do you want?"

Jiang Jiuyou turned around completely.

She walked up to Chen Chen, the distance between them shrinking to less than twenty centimeters.

She looked up slightly—at this angle, her phoenix eyes, high-bridged nose, and her full, sharp, unpainted lips were all exposed to Chen Chen's gaze.

"On the day you have the ability to make me willing to be seventh—"

She raised her hand and tapped Chen Chen's chest with her index finger.

"Ask me again if it counts."

She withdrew her finger.

She turned and walked toward the stairs.

After two steps, she stopped.

"By the way—how much of that mammoth tenderloin do you have left?"

"Enough to go around."

"Then send two pieces over tomorrow. My people haven't had a full meal in three days either."

She didn't look back again, her combat boots descending the stairs one step at a time.

When she reached the first floor, Jiang Yanxue's dark red eyes were fixed straight on her.

As Jiang Jiuyou passed the sofa, she locked eyes with Jiang Yanxue for half a second.

Two female beasts of the same kind.

Neither was the first to look away.

In the end, it was Jiang Jiuyou who left first.

She pushed open the armored door, and a cold wind rushed in, making the hem of her military overcoat flutter in the breeze.

The door closed.

Jiang Yanxue slammed her knife onto the sofa.

"The seventh."

Just as those words left Jiang Yanxue's mouth, Su Xiaoqi's voice popped up from behind a storage bin.

"Seven is my lucky number!"