Chapter 932
Belonging
Chapter 932 Belonging
Abigail stared at Braun, her eyes wide with astonishment, and blurted out instinctively:
"When...when did you come down? I didn't see you."
After she finished speaking, she unconsciously glanced at the unusually noisy entrance of the building, as if subconsciously she felt that soldiers were suddenly chasing after her.
Upon hearing this, Braun's face showed an even more obvious expression of surprise than Abigail's, even with a hint of unbelievable absurdity.
He looked Abigail up and down as if he were seeing her for the first time.
"What, what's wrong?"
Abigail was baffled and even wondered if she had accidentally worn the wrong clothes.
But she wasn't the kind of wizard who knew nothing about the Muggle world; she couldn't possibly make such a basic mistake.
Braun glanced at the bystanders nearby, then leaned closer to Abigail and whispered in a very sincere yet doubtful tone:
“Miss Abigail, forgive my bluntness… are you really a wizard? How could you ask such a… well, a question that lacks common sense?”
He shrugged and said, "In a place that's surrounded, with sirens blaring and Muggle troops rushing in, am I supposed to just walk through the main gate and wave goodbye to them?"
"Of course, it's about 'coming down' first, and then quietly walking over in a less conspicuous way."
He seemed worried that Abigail wouldn't understand, so he gestured with two fingers to indicate the act of "walking".
Abigail was speechless at his behavior, which was akin to treating someone mentally challenged, and her face immediately darkened.
But at the same time, Braun's explanation also quietly put aside a vague and bizarre guess in her heart.
After all, no matter how clever or realistic a puppet is, it can't apparite like a wizard.
Abigail secretly breathed a sigh of relief. After distancing herself from the ordinary people with Braun, she asked:
"What did you do up there? You made such a scene."
Braun didn't answer. He followed Abigail's gaze and looked into the distance at the Watergate building, which had instantly transformed from a place of quiet luxury into a chaotic and noisy scene.
The piercing alarm, flashing police lights, and the cacophony of voices could even be faintly heard.
He narrowed his eyes, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Listen to this sound!"
Braun spoke in a lighthearted tone, as if he were watching an interesting play.
“I bet those politicians and tycoons upstairs who are usually all dressed up and talking big are now running around in their bathrobes like frightened goblins in the hallway.”
"And those guys..."
His gaze swept over the soldiers, his smile deepening, tinged with a wicked amusement:
"They come rushing over with great momentum, only to find that all they can do is put out the fire... It must be quite interesting to come up empty-handed."
Abigail rolled her eyes silently, without saying a word in response.
After this ordeal, she suddenly realized that the grief, repression, and hatred in her heart were as if they had been burned by fire. The embers were still there, but they no longer burned her heart all the time as before.
While Braun made lighthearted jokes, a completely different, more peaceful and pure feeling was quietly flowing within him.
He missed it, missed it terribly.
I miss that brief but incredibly fulfilling moment in the rooftop apartment just now—
With the owner and siblings all around, they share a silent understanding, needing no guard, pretense, or concealment from each other. Even outside their own territory, the place exudes a vibrant sense of "home."
That feeling was one of belonging, of meaning, of a sense of grounded existence. It was far more important and real than the chaos and commotion he had personally instigated.
But he hid this thought beneath his cynical mask. Braun turned away from the chaos and said with a smile:
"Let's go."
"Where to?" Abigail asked as she followed.
"Go and rest! You've been up all day, aren't you tired?" Braun said helplessly.
"And then?" Abigail pressed on. "And then? Of course, I go and kill someone."
"Who is the target?"
“I have a list of Prometheus members, and a few of them are currently enjoying themselves out of town… Of course, the most important thing is to see what useful information Miss Lightfoot can bring us after one night…”
……
"Cash and cash equivalents flowed through multiple offshore accounts and shell companies, and the total amount is currently estimated at this figure."
Vito wrote a long string of numbers on the blackboard, and Victor, sitting next to him, felt that he couldn't even count how many digits it was.
“The real estate is mainly concentrated on the East Coast and a few offshore tax havens. Here is the list and title documents.” Vera handed over a stack of documents.
"Most importantly—"
Videl continued, pointing to another pile of encrypted files: "It's their 'network of connections' and 'incriminating evidence' accumulated over the years—"
"A non-public power network map covering seventeen major U.S. cities, evidence of secret transactions involving more than fifty current members of Congress and senior government officials, files on the complex gray equity structures of nine multinational corporations... and even the true control chains and fund flows of three small private military contractors."
“I checked the records and found that more than half of their network of relationships was controlled through phone calls and emails. The core members of Prometheus have prominent social statuses and almost never personally conduct sensitive communications.”
"We're rich, Master!" Victor exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I never imagined that one Lightford could unearth so much treasure! What if we include the others on the list too..."
"Calm down, Victor."
"Lightford's unique role within the organization, combining financial maneuvering, political lobbying, and 'vault' functions, allowed him to accumulate such wealth and secrets," said Wedel. "Others—aside from the unassuming leader—would probably never have received such 'generous' rewards."
“I know, but don’t be so disappointing, Videl!” Victor complained, then turned to Videl, still excitedly asking, “Master, what should we do with these?”
"It's such a waste to leave such a huge amount of assets idle, but transferring and handling them will take a lot of time..."
Vito said, looking at the boy sitting on the sofa by the fireplace.
For most people, receiving such a windfall would instantly grant them financial freedom, allowing them to do whatever they want. Those with ambition would make managing this wealth a central focus of their lives.
But the puppets all know that what Vader values has never been these things.
For him, finding a rare magic book was more appealing than becoming a billionaire.
Wade didn't speak immediately. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of the sofa.
“Why don’t we let Mr. Gray take over?” Vera suggested softly. “He has experience managing companies and is familiar with the rules of Muggle society…”
Upon hearing this, Wade shook his head slightly, a helpless yet gentle smile appearing on his lips.
“That won’t do, Vera, you’ll scare him! Besides, for most people, having a windfall that is far beyond their control is not a blessing, but a curse!”
He leaned back slightly, his gray eyes sweeping over each of the puppets waiting for instructions in the room—Vitor, Vera, Videl, Victor… and Vilan and Wayne (Braun), who were not there.
Wade's eyes showed deep thought, followed by a gradually clearer decision.
He said slowly, "Victor, I remember you told Vilan that you wanted to develop your own manpower?"
"Yes, yes..."
Victor stammered, then suddenly realized something and his eyes widened.
If it weren't for the puppet, he would have heard his heart suddenly start pounding violently, like a drumbeat.
The other puppets also opened their mouths, their eyes trembling slightly uncontrollably.
Then they heard Wade say, "What if I hand this fortune over to you to manage?"
(End of this chapter)