"The Special Forces unit won dishonorably; the two Majors leading them clearly don't belong," one of Yusuf's attendants muttered angrily.

"Oh? And why do you say that?" Yang Ying, flush with the joy of a big win, asked. He remembered this attendant was introduced by Yusuf as a close bodyguard, holding a Grade-S mercenary qualification, possessing deep knowledge of weaponry, combat, and soldiers.

"Marksmanship like that—even among Grade-S mercenaries, only a few who have survived countless battles could achieve it. Such divine shooting requires cultivating 'gun sense' over three years of training amidst crossfire, firing millions of rounds. How could it possibly be developed by two Majors who just finished their initial training? I don't believe it!" the bodyguard declared loudly.

"Colonel Yang Ying, I'm afraid I must agree with my bodyguard. I have never seen Majors like them among recruits," Yusuf stated. "I was in the military too; the rank of Major isn't something you earn by placing first or second in Special Forces recruit training. The highest starting rank for a new Special Forces soldier is Captain. A field-grade officer rank like Major can only be attained on the battlefield through meritorious service."

"Then it's a pity that you've both guessed wrong. They truly are new recruits; that much I can guarantee," Yang Ying said with a smile.

Qingfeng Mingyue had only been cultivating in the Taiji Temple a few months prior; their time in the service amounted to just a few months at most. While he had no idea what they had accomplished in such a short span to rise so quickly to the rank of Major, their status as recruits was undeniable.

Yusuf’s bodyguard started to retort, but Yusuf raised a hand, placing it between him and Yang Ying, stopping him mid-sentence.

"Your word, Your Excellency, I certainly trust. Since you say they are new recruits, they must have encountered some extraordinary fortune," Yusuf remarked.

Yang Ying nodded, pulled out the platinum card and the betting slip from his pocket, and handed them to Ghost Agent. "Help me cash this out. Deposit it into this card."

The Ghost Agent accepted the card and slip and departed to carry out the order.

"Colonel Yang Ying, you certainly have extensive connections, which is enviable—and valuable," Yusuf commented, watching the Ghost Agent leave the room, smiling politely. A loss of ten million was a trifle to Yusuf, nothing worth worrying about.

"Unfortunately, not all information can be traded for cash," Yang Ying replied. "My only concern right now is whether the betting company will default on my money. Forty billion is no small sum; it's worth two heavy cruisers."

"You needn't worry about that. The major betting houses co-sponsoring this event are all century-old establishments. For them, reputation is more important than the money itself. They would return the stakes even if it meant bankruptcy. Besides, a mere forty billion won't cripple them; it will only mean they earn a little less from this gamble," Yusuf explained.

"No wonder people always say that in the end, the bookmakers are the ones who profit," Yang Ying mused quietly.

"However, the bookmakers aren't saints either. If someone without backing were to win a massive sum, after the company pays out the winnings, if that person were to meet with some accident afterward, it wouldn't be the company's concern anymore," Yusuf said with a chuckle. "But I doubt the major betting houses would risk offending Your Excellency over forty billion."

Just then, a sudden commotion erupted from the white tent area below the observation deck.

Yusuf leaned against the window ledge and glanced down. He turned back and said, "It seems the news that your subordinate is cashing out six billion has already spread. If you took a look down there, you'd clearly see the envy and jealousy flashing in the eyes of those mercenaries."

"Is that so?" Yang Ying stepped up to the window for a look. Below, the crowd was dense, many mercenaries clutching their betting slips, murmuring to each other, with glints of sharp malice occasionally flashing in their eyes.

"I think these red-eyed mercenaries require my attention more than the betting company does. They might just translate their envy and jealousy into action," Yang Ying observed.

Mercenaries were hardly rule-abiding citizens; they were combative, adventurous, and anarchic. If they believed six billion was sitting right in front of them, accessible with just a reach of the hand, who could resist that temptation?

"In the face of six billion, all reason vanishes. Whether the platinum card can successfully withdraw the funds, whether one can safely escape to some unknown corner of Voriel to live in luxury—none of that is their primary consideration. They are likely only thinking of seizing the money first and figuring out the rest later," Yang Ying continued analyzing the mindset of the mercenaries below.

"That is a problem," Yusuf’s wrinkles deepened. "I will immediately assign men to resolve this." He turned and instructed one of his attendants behind him, "Go, take a small squad and escort Colonel Yang Ying's personnel out."

Meanwhile, inside the white tent, a semi-circular area with a radius of two meters had cleared in front of the counter, as if an invisible force field existed there. At the center stood the Ghost Agent, and behind the counter stood a very tall, blond man dressed in a suit and tie.

The blond man rapidly typed on the computer before him, then respectfully said to the Ghost Agent, "The funds have been wired to the designated account. Thank you for your patronage." As he spoke, his image flickered, becoming hazy before vanishing completely.

A nearby clerk, holding the platinum card with noticeably unsteady steps, approached the counter and handed it to the Ghost Agent.

The bystanders showed no surprise, as they all knew this blond man was not the real person but a holographic projection. The reason a projection handled this transaction was that the regular staff in the tent lacked the authority; transferring funds of this magnitude—six billion—required approval from senior management. A similar situation had occurred when the Ghost Agent bet two billion before the exercise began.

The Ghost Agent took the platinum card and turned around. The eyes of the surrounding crowd instantly changed, as if they were fitted with crossbows, shooting invisible bolts at him. They secretly wished the Ghost Agent would be shot dead by their gazes, allowing them to keep the platinum card.

The Ghost Agent swept his eyes around and immediately grasped the situation. At this moment, words could not persuade these people blinded by greed.

He decisively flicked his wrist, and a concussion grenade struck the ground, exploding with a brilliant white light, as dazzling as the sun, causing everyone nearby, who had been staring, to clap their hands over their eyes and tear up.

Accompanying the blinding light was a thunderous explosion that temporarily deafened everyone. Due to the extreme crowding in the tent, at least fifty people were affected. Since the inner ear controls balance, the intense sound not only impaired hearing but also made people stagger.

Those closest to the Ghost Agent suffered the most. Ignoring their eyes and ears, they lunged forward, aiming for where they last remembered the Ghost Agent being. They immediately felt something solid, and then began throwing fierce punches forward, while simultaneously feeling intense counter-attacks and desperate strikes from the opponent.

The Ghost Agent had closed his eyes before the concussion grenade detonated, but his eardrums were still assaulted by the blast. However, having undergone specialized training, the weakening of his sense of balance barely affected him. While the temporary deafness was a minor hindrance, the surrounding crowd was equally impaired, so he wasn't at a significant disadvantage.

Not everyone in the tent was blinded. A few people had their vision partially shielded by those in front of them and didn't fully absorb the intense white light. In that flash, they only saw a blur but could still discern shapes. Then they saw the Ghost Agent inside suddenly dart into the crowd, while the inner circle of men ended up grappling with each other.

"He's in the crowd!" "Don't let him get away!"

They shouted, but everyone in the tent was deafened and couldn't hear each other. The only response came from another concussion grenade, which arced through the air and exploded overhead, plunging them into momentary blindness as well.

Taking advantage of the chaos, the Ghost Agent snatched a jacket from a person passing nearby, threw it over himself, plucked a wig from another person's head, and placed it on his own. With this disguise, he slipped out of the exit unnoticed, pushing through the mass of people.

A minute later, Yusuf's attendants arrived with a contingent of men. They parted the crowd and reached the innermost area, finding only a few men still wrestling together, but the Ghost Agent was nowhere in sight. They apprehended the struggling men and took them away.

The Ghost Agent removed his disguise and returned to the private box on the top floor.

"Report, Commander Chang'an, mission complete!" The Ghost Agent presented the platinum card to Yang Ying, holding it with both hands, showing no indication of the six billion contained within—it looked as mundane as a roadside pebble.

"Well done," Yang Ying said with a smile, taking back the platinum card. The Ghost Agent's ability to slip out before the reinforcement team arrived gave Yang Ying considerable prestige in front of Yusuf.

"Thank you, Sir!" The Ghost Agent snapped a salute and stood behind Yang Ying, his expression calm, as if he had merely completed a trivial task. The damage from the concussion grenade was only temporary, and his hearing had already recovered.

Yusuf stared at the Ghost Agent with astonishment, as if beholding a rare treasure. He turned to Yang Ying and said, "Colonel Yang Ying, your subordinate is a warrior of rare caliber. I have trained thousands of soldiers over my thirty years, but I could count those like yours on one hand." In his estimation, the Ghost Agent's combat skills were secondary; his profound composure and the casual manner in which he handled six billion were what truly amazed him.

"Thank you for your compliment; they are my pride," Yang Ying replied with a slight smile.

"Commanding warriors like these is a source of pride for anyone," Yusuf stated slowly. "Colonel Yang Ying, will you be attending the award ceremony later?"

I'm visiting relatives today and managed to write a chapter here. I haven't even returned home yet. Chapter Two will almost certainly be past midnight. Please bear with me!