"The general has given orders. This time, you are to disguise yourself and get close to Arabella." The voice of an elderly man was serious and stern.
"Arabella?" A young man with a clear, soft voice asked in question.
"Yes. You must have heard of her by name."
"I know of her. But during the recent joint anti-terrorism operation by the three countries, her base was destroyed, and then she vanished."
"According to reliable sources, Arabella has entered the Mountains."
"What? That's almost a death zone! How could she have come out alive?"
"If it were Arabella, it would be another matter. The general's order is that if you manage to get close to her and capture her alive, it would be considered a great achievement. Haven't you always been fond of Priscilla Cardew? If you succeed, the general might consider your relationship with her."
"What's this supposed to mean? I like Miss Cardew, but to get a chance to be with the woman I admire, I should approach another woman? I can't do such a despicable thing."
"Don't think of it like that. Your personal matters with Priscilla are nothing but a side issue. You are our country's most elite agent. I believe you will successfully complete the mission."
The man was silent for a long while, then spoke: "Let's see if Arabella can survive crossing the Mountains first."
After the young man left, the elderly man dialed an internal phone line.
"Report to the general, I have already conveyed your orders to him." After hearing the general's latest instructions over the phone, the old man spoke in a sycophantic tone, "Yes, General! His attempt to approach Arabella is certain to be fatal. He will not be disturbing Miss Cardew, I assure you."
To make it to the List, Caracal had to be quite skilled.
Over the years, he had seen many strange and bizarre things, studied various mysterious arts, and naturally knew how to use illusions to deceive people.
Arabella truly leapt across, relying solely on a rope.
She had suspended a rope high in the air, her body dangling from it, while her subordinates below, deceived by an illusion, thought the ground ahead was level.
Bramwell and Taras followed behind.
Bramwell glanced coldly at the group, as if aided by deity intervention, his keen eyes scanning the corner where the inconspicuous Norman stood.
He suspected that both the face and the name were fake, deepening his suspicions about Norman.
Fortunately, Norman was clearly one of Arabella's people.
He was no longer a police officer. As long as the person was useful to Arabella, their identity no longer mattered.
He had accepted his leader's entrusted task, and for the rest of his life, it was only Arabella—she was his life's faith.
He pretended to be tricked by an illusion, walking at the back. Halfway through, he unconsciously raised his hands slightly and grabbed the rope hanging above him.
Although he could pass through the mountain without danger, his skills were still a bit lacking compared to Raven, and he couldn't move with the precision and steadiness required.
As soon as the rope moved, Raven and Norman, who were stationed at the two ends, exchanged sharp glances at him.
The moment Bramwell reached for the rope, he inwardly cursed, realizing he had been exposed.
Instead, it was Arabella, who had already escorted the main forces through, hanging from the rope. She turned her head toward him, smiling as she asked, "What's wrong? Has carrying water for me to wash up for two days worn you out? You can't even cross such a wide stretch of land today?"
Bramwell quickly smiled awkwardly and said, "Master Unknown, I will definitely practice more from now on. I won't let anyone laugh at me again."
Once their conversation ended, Raven and Norman subtly shifted their gaze away without a trace.
The Mountains were difficult to climb, and even harder to descend.
After passing through the narrow chasm, Norman disappeared once again. Leading the way alone, he pressed on for three full days and nights, marching relentlessly through the dense jungle, shrouded in thick mist, until they plunged down into the darkness.
On the fourth day, they finally saw a faint white light ahead. Everyone sighed in relief, as if they had finally emerged from the land of hell.
"Norman, go find two separate courtyards to rent for a year. And while you're at it, investigate the situation in Doma."
Norman exchanged a glance with Arabella, both understanding the task, and nodded before descending the mountain alone.
The rest of the group rested on a high ground not far from the foot of the mountain, waiting for Norman's news.
Out of everyone's sight, Norman's plain face instantly transformed back into his original form—Caracal.
He was tall with long legs and a striking figure, his eyes, though a light shade, were exceptionally bright. His features were sharp and well-defined, and from a distance, he was breathtaking.
The borders of Doma were desolate, with no human presence. Even the government had not stationed any troops there.
After all, crossing the Mountains was nearly impossible, not to mention an army carrying advanced weapons. They would likely all perish before even fighting a battle.
Caracal moved quickly, and within a short time, he found the nearest village to the border.
A day later, Norman returned, looking weary from his journey.
"Master Unknown, everything is settled. I've also brought the vehicle to transport the equipment. We'll change vehicles halfway."
Arabella nodded and complimented him with satisfaction, "Well done. I hope you haven't disappointed me."
As it turned out, Norman was indeed reliable. Contrary to expectations, he didn't retreat to some remote wilderness to avoid the crowds. Instead, he rented two luxurious villas in the wealthiest district of the capital.
Since ancient times, it has been customary not to disturb the rich while investigating the poor. The places where the wealthy reside can become self-contained fortresses, beyond supervision and restraint.
All the laws and rules are not made for the rich, but are tools for brainwashing and restricting the submission of the poor.
Of course, top-tier mansions don't come cheap.
Norman didn't use the black-market savings Arabella had given him. If he wanted to stay by her side, he had to do everything right and earn her approval.
Over the years, the money Norman had managed to siphon from AE was enough to buy several rows of mansions.
No wonder the drug trade continues despite being banned—it's a highly profitable business.
The weapons were initially loaded onto a cargo truck to clear the way, but halfway through, they were transferred to a luxury car. With a person carrying some arms, they drove boldly and without hesitation right into the bustling streets of the capital.
One person after another, changing cars and carrying arms, until a whole day passed, and only when night fell did they successfully infiltrate capital with both the people and the goods, all silently and without a trace.
After tumbling and crawling through the mountains like savages for ten days, they finally reached the bustling world, where everyone silently washed up and rested.
Only Arabella, with her strong mental fortitude, took a bath, changed into clean clothes, and then, in the middle of the night, opened a bottle of wine and a plate of meat, eating and drinking heavily in a corner of the bathroom.
A smile still lingered on her lips, but in the silent solitude of the night, she could finally release the pain of the deception, the failure, and the death of the only one she had trusted. In the darkness, her expression was impossible to read.
