Man With Super Medical Skill novel Chapter 3253

The Gloam Division members themselves kept the majority of the spoils. These riches weren't even factored into the division's operational expenses, which were astronomical whenever they mobilized their vehicles, tanks, and other military equipment.

Take the organization's vehicles, for instance. Whenever they were dispatched, it was in fleets of dozens, and just fueling them up cost at least tens of thousands of Montirian Ducat. On top of that were the endless costs of weapon maintenance and ammunition procurement.

Maurice, who had been confidently smiling just moments before, now wore a grim expression. He stammered, "Mr. Zedler, that's the Gloam Division we're discussing! Are you trying to drink me to death?"

Sure, this wasn't classified information, but it wasn't something people just handed out casually, either. In such situations, the best approach was to drink—drink hard. At the table, if one bottle of liquor didn't do the trick, then two. If two bottles weren't enough, go for three. This was the Cathayan way of sealing deals and uncovering secrets.

Maurice remembered a story from way back. A scrawny guy once tried to strike a deal with a huge, burly fellow. When negotiations hit a wall, the big guy said, "Outdrink us in vodka, and we'll give you a discount." The brave little guy accepted. As they carted him off in an ambulance, the big guy was still shouting, "Ura!"

"Kid, we need your iron stomach. We will remember your great deed," Mortimer said.

Maurice gulped.

It was just drinking, after all. He could line his stomach with some bread and pretend the booze was just spicy water.

With a nod of grim determination, he declared, "I won't let you down, Mr. Zedler."

With that, he turned and strode forward with unwavering determination as if walking into a cold, wind-swept battlefield.

…

Later that night, the Noir Ballet Hotel pulsed with life. The dimly lit interior was punctuated by flashing colored lights. Maurice sat in a booth against the wall, sharing a table with his target—Jaxon, the young bank governor.