Chapter 900: The Sieve

“Bring him tomorrow. I’ll be waiting at the villa halfway up the mountain…”

Lynch hung up the phone and shook his head—not because he was dissatisfied with Lime.

This was simply how the values of the Federation worked:

I’m worth a lot, so I need to prove I’m worth it.

Everyone thought that way. They didn’t see it as betrayal—not even Lime. He didn’t think he was betraying Lynch. He believed he was worth that price, that he had value and was proving it.

This mindset was the result of capitalism reshaping society over many years. People followed the rules of the capitalist game until they became an indestructible part of it.

Lynch wouldn’t lose trust in Lime because of this. If he did, then 99% of the people in the Federation wouldn’t be fit to work for him—because 99% would think the same way.

He shook his head only out of regret for EveryMoment’s CEO. If he had agreed a few days earlier, there’d be no need for tomorrow’s meeting.

The night passed without incident.

Early the next morning, Lynch finished his bath with the help of a maid. He wasn’t incapable of bathing himself—he just needed help reaching certain spots.

That was all.

During breakfast, Lynch noticed that most newspapers were still covering the recent pirate attacks, but only the Observer Daily reported that the pirates had been eliminated.

There were no details on how it happened—just a vague statement that the pirates resisted arrest and were ultimately killed on the spot.

None of the news mentioned anything about aircraft. Not a word.

The military and Ministry of Defense had already issued strict orders: no media could report anything related to aircraft under any circumstances. Violators would be secretly tried for endangering national security and treason.

It sounded like something that would happen in Gephra, yet it was happening in the Federation—showing just how seriously the military and defense ministry regarded this not-so-new technology.

The military believed aircraft, like submarines, could determine the outcome of war once deployed. They were guarding it closely, blocking any leaks.

For once, the upper echelons of the Federation were in complete agreement—hence the media blackout.

Even though there wasn’t a single word about aircraft in any paper, the people who needed to know already knew.

Some video footage made it clear that this invention could become the foundation of the Federation’s rise as the world’s top power. Everyone involved treated it with the utmost caution.

But Lynch didn’t have much faith in the Federation’s ability to maintain secrecy.

At that very moment, a Gephran spy was purchasing a ticket for a boat departing before noon.

“Miss, here’s your ticket and documents. Please keep them safe…”

Any man would naturally smile at a pretty blonde, especially a ticket booth clerk with little social interaction. That tiny window was likely the fullest extent of his worldview.

The woman outside smiled sweetly and thanked him. Her voice was soft and sweet—it made his bones feel lighter.

He had never heard such a lovely voice or seen such a captivating smile.

If only he knew that this girl had slept with no fewer than a hundred different men, he probably wouldn’t feel the same way.

She was one of many Gephran spies sent into the Federation. Compared to the fiery feminist movement sweeping the Federation, the Gephrans were far ahead in their use of female operatives.

They dispatched numerous beautiful, highly educated women with refined appearances and graceful demeanors. These spies easily blended into high society.

They also had no qualms about sleeping with anyone. Men went crazy over them. That obsession brought the spies valuable information about the Federation’s elite circles.

Just last night, this particular woman had been engaged with a Federation senator—old enough to be her father. He thought he’d conquered her, tenderly pulled a blanket over her, and went to the study.

Soon after, the woman quietly crept to the study and used special techniques to eavesdrop on what was happening inside.

The senator was on the phone—not loud, but the content was explosive.

The Federation had invented a new weapon capable of revolutionizing warfare.

She returned to the bedroom, waited for the senator to come back, and used her training to put him into a deep sleep. Then she quietly pried open the study and retrieved the videotape.

She didn’t examine its contents. She left immediately to make a copy before returning it, but when she came back, the senator’s home was already swarming with security agents and military personnel.

The bastard had woken up earlier than she expected. She had been exposed.

The security committee acted swiftly after the report. Though furious that a senator had leaked a state secret while sleeping with a spy, at least he reported it immediately—there was still time to act.

A large operation was launched. The Gephran spy immediately planned her escape, hoping to flee before the Federation fully reacted.

She changed her appearance, donned a wig—now she looked like a completely different person.

Still, she wasn’t sure she’d get away. So she used a special method to summon a sleeper agent.

She didn’t know if the agent had noticed her signal—or if he’d defected—but she had no other choice.

Forty-five minutes to departure. If she got on that ship, she’d be safe.

There were plenty of hiding spots on board. She was confident she could stay hidden. But just then, three military trucks sped toward the dock, followed by several police cars.

Her heart jumped. She thought she’d been exposed, then calmed herself. No one knew her current appearance. She should still be safe.

She stood and headed for the restroom. Even if she wasn’t exposed, she had to be prepared.

Moments later, she returned to her seat. A few minutes after that, security agents began checking everyone’s luggage—and required all women to show their chests.

Naturally, they brought female agents for the inspections.

According to the senator, the girl he had slept with had a blue-purple butterfly tattoo on her chest.

When she moved, the butterfly seemed to flutter.

Some things could be hidden, but others—not so easily. Like a tattoo.

The senator said they had showered together and the tattoo didn’t wash off. That detail was crucial.

The female spy knew she couldn’t escape, but rather than sit and wait to be caught, she decided to take a chance.

With everyone seated, anyone who stood up would immediately attract attention.

The moment she stood, the security agents noticed. Three of them drew their weapons and approached, ordering her to sit back down.

But she wasn’t going to comply.

She bolted toward the edge of the port—if she could jump into the water, maybe she still had a chance.

What she underestimated was the value of that videotape. The agents didn’t hesitate to open fire. Her long legs, which had seduced so many, were shredded in an instant.

There was no chance.

One agent walked up, tore open her clothes, revealing her chest. The purple-blue butterfly trembled slightly, as if resting on a flower—ready to take flight at any moment…

After her capture, the agents quickly escorted her away, but the search didn’t stop. They checked everyone’s luggage. Only after confirming there were no other issues did the agents leave.

With only a few minutes until boarding, a well-dressed gentleman walked into the restroom.

Moments later, he emerged, wiping his hands and smiling.

He even helped an elderly lady lift her luggage onto the ship. A true gentleman.

As the ship slowly left the port, the smile on his face became more relaxed. He knew he had been redeemed.

Every deep-cover spy lives for the call.

If that call isn’t death, then it must be salvation.

At 11:15, Lime limped toward Lynch’s villa with the CEO of EveryMoment.

Seeking an audience was a rare experience for the CEO. He had never imagined having to request to see someone—he’d always had the power. But that was before.

Now, he had no choice but to ask Lynch for help—to extend a hand and pull him through this disaster.

“Boss!”

“Mr. Lynch…”

Lynch pointed to the sofa. “Sit.” Then glanced at Lime’s leg. “Permanent?”

Lime grinned and glanced at the CEO. “There’s a chance of recovery—with treatment.”

His leg had been broken and left untreated for over two days. By the time they acted, the best window had passed. Some tissue had already died. Even if reconnected, doctors couldn’t guarantee it would function as before.

Lime didn’t show much resentment about it. His calm demeanor was surprising.

Maybe he had experienced a metaphorical death and come out transformed.

Or maybe he simply realized how powerless he was—and buried his hatred, waiting in silence.