Chapter 75 76

Chapter 75: The Name of Blood

Jack Graham calmly adjusted his tie, returning to his handsome and sunlit detective persona. After listening intently for a moment, he steered Chevy back onto the main road, heading towards Washington. To make up for lost time, he increased the speed of the car and honked at an FBI agent's vehicle he overtook, a casual greeting in passing.

Jack was in a great mood. Although he didn't need to replenish his strength through eating, he couldn't resist the temptation of delicious, youthful food, especially the lively vitality and stirring emotions it brought, which fascinated him.

So occasionally, he wouldn't refuse when prey came knocking at his door.

Half an hour later, the black Captiva arrived at Adams Morgan, where 18th Street intersects with Columbia Road in northwest Washington. The area was filled with row houses built a century ago, recently repainted in bright colors that stood out.

This neighborhood, home to over 40 different ethnic groups, was quiet and sparsely populated during the day, no different from other areas of Washington. But at night, it came alive with exotic restaurants, bars, and nightclubs, attracting countless nightlife enthusiasts.

Jack parked the car and approached a building with blue and white walls. A small sign hung on the spacious porch, painted in bright red letters: "Hidden Ladder Club, Members Only."

The seemingly ordinary font carried a hint of mystery, enough to deter the faint-hearted from approaching.

As Jack stepped onto the porch, as if by some unspoken agreement, the heavy door swung open. A burly man standing guard behind the door respectfully nodded as Jack entered. Once inside, the door closed again, shutting out the noise and voices from outside.

Though the exterior of the building was unremarkable, the interior was a different world. Passing through the old corridors, Jack found himself in a spacious hall with a long circular bar occupying the center, surrounded by luxurious sofas and chairs. Seated or reclining on them were many tall and muscular men and women, their expressions stranger than usual.

Scantily clad female attendants carried drinks among them, and silent performers added to the atmosphere of decadence and chaos.

Jack was intimately familiar with this club he had established himself and didn't bother to look around. Instead, he crossed the hall expressionlessly and ascended the staircase winding up from the bottom of the hall. Everywhere he passed, men and women respectfully bowed their heads, indicating his unmatched status.

Ascending to the second floor along the circular staircase, he found only a carved wooden door standing deep in the corridor. Upon opening it, he entered a spacious and luxurious lounge, its walls adorned with ancient and mysterious paintings of various demons and gods. A roaring fire burned in the huge fireplace, and everyone who had been waiting in the lounge stood up respectfully:

"Lord Agalos!"

This was the true name of Special Agent Jack Graham— "Blood" Agalos.

This ancient name had roamed the abyss for nearly a millennium, witnessing countless wars, prosperity, and decline. Though it had only appeared in Washington's underworld for two or three years, it was already the most prestigious existence, an unchallengeable ruler.

In the lounge, over thirty demons had gathered, all hidden in human form among Washington's populace. They included three congressmen, the assistant chief of the Washington Police Department, key figures in the Pentagon and other crucial departments, as well as certain mafia bosses who had infiltrated various aspects of society.

If Jocelyn McCaskey were present, she might understand why her plans had failed in Philadelphia. It was because the Republican Party congressman who had edged her out, Turner Marbury, was also present in this eerie club—a place brimming with extraordinary powers and methods, where there was no shortage of ways to overthrow the female Party Whip.

"Ralph can't make it for now; he's on a mission elsewhere," reported Surrey, a trusted subordinate, a middle-aged man with a composed appearance. His human identity was the chief detective of the Department of Justice's Office of the Chief Prosecutor, the chief prosecutor's confidant.

Ralph was a stalwart of the CIA, often jetting around the world. Jack had anticipated this and wasn't concerned. A figure clad in a tight red dress threw herself into his arms, her body soft and flexible, her eyes fiery and captivating. She was a superlative beauty, enough to ignite desire in any man and leave him utterly enchanted, willing to give up everything.

"I found a fresh face."

"Oh? Dear Sefney, has another powerful newcomer stirred your heart again, or is there another reason you mention it?" Agalos wore a smile as refreshing as a spring breeze, affectionately caressing her cheek.

However, Sefney, clad in red, paled slightly with fear. She knew that although this powerful ruler always wore a smiling face, in reality, he was more ruthless and cold-hearted than ordinary demons. She could only timidly extend her nimble tongue to lick the corners of Agalos's lips, coquettishly pleasing him:

"Just an ordinary character, but from him, I sense the aura of a soul remembered."

Agalos paused, his pupils faintly reddening. "Interesting. Can you help me invite this young one up here, Sefney?"

Downstairs in the club, spider demon Clyde sat alone in a corner, seemingly relaxed but cautiously observing the club. Since being dispatched to Washington, his spying abilities had been fully utilized. Bruce had decided to station him in this political center, creating a network of information spread throughout the city, striving to obtain more useful information.

Clyde soon stumbled upon this den of his kind, which made him alert—without powerful figures to lead them, demons were difficult to gather. In this club called the Hidden Ladder, only demons could enter, and the demons inside were not as cautious or discreet as those in the outside world; Clyde could clearly sense the presence of many formidable characters.

However, he had not expected that, being already quite low-key, he would be noticed by Sefney so quickly. This witch was skilled in sensing the faint aura of strong souls emanating from Clyde.

So when Clyde noticed the witch who was obviously of extraordinary status walking straight towards him, he already felt something was amiss but could do nothing about it. At almost the same time, multiple powerful auras locked onto him, depriving him of his initiative.

In such a situation, resistance was evidently not a good choice.

"Have I done something against the rules?"

Suppressing his unease, Clyde looked coldly at the extremely enchanting woman. Even though those around her had been mesmerized by her, none dared to show a covetous gaze. It was evident she was not someone to mess with.

"A great one wishes to see you. Please follow me."

With her hands lightly resting in front of her, showcasing her devilish figure, the seductive lips uttered these words, then without giving him a chance to respond, she turned and walked upstairs.

Despite his inner resentment, Clyde dared not make any moves and could only reluctantly follow behind her.

However, the closer he got to the second floor, the more his heart trembled with fear. Behind the seemingly ordinary carved wooden door, he could sense many powerful auras, perhaps none inferior to his own. They could engulf him at any moment.

The wooden door opened automatically, and Clyde stepped in, only to find a tall and heroic man smiling at him, causing his heart to sink. He couldn't sense the man's aura at all, even though he was standing right in front of him. It was as if the man didn't exist, leaving no trace of scent, sound, or magnetic field. Instead, the formidable demons around him became even more conspicuous.

He had encountered a similar situation only with Bruce; what did that imply?

"You seem to be afraid of me?" Agalos stepped forward, closed his eyes and sniffed slightly, then opened them with delight. "Don't worry, I have no interest in a worm like you. But I sense the aura of power from you. Whose mighty servant are you?"

Clyde's face turned pale, fine beads of sweat oozing from his pores, trickling down his cheeks. Such a situation, appearing on a demon who could control himself so well, undoubtedly seemed somewhat ridiculous. However, all the demons were unsurprised because no one could face Agalos's gaze calmly.

Even so, Clyde restrained his fear and gritted his teeth: "Great being, forgive me, I cannot reveal my master's identity."

"Bold!"

"Presumptuous!"

"Demon, you've chosen annihilation!"

The demons' surging killing intent and aura rushed over Clyde, making it even harder for him to resist. He almost couldn't help but burst out and flee, but he had to suppress his impulse and support himself with great effort. The demon world did not believe in weakness. If one showed cowardice and retreat, it meant exposing vulnerabilities, standing on the edge of being slaughtered.

However, Agalos showed no anger. He simply nodded as if he had suddenly realized something, then walked to the desk behind the room and began writing a letter with a pen.

Although only a few strokes were made, a few tens of seconds felt like centuries to Clyde, who tasted the agony of waiting to the fullest.

Fortunately, soon, witch Sefney carefully pinched the beautifully sealed envelope and handed it to him.

Agalos sat in the central chair, loosening his tie and half-leaning on the armrest, raising his hand gently: "So, please convey my sincerity to that person. Perhaps he will know my name."

Clyde took the envelope, lowered his head, and said, "Your will shall guide me, my lord."

It wasn't until he walked out of the club that he exhaled deeply, realizing that his muscles were still highly tense. Even the concrete floor under his feet couldn't bear the pressure and slightly sank, revealing clear cracks.

Clyde calmed himself and continued walking without looking sideways for dozens of meters until he turned out of the street, finally having the opportunity to lift the envelope in his hand.

He saw a small round red mark at the seal, as intense as blood, making it striking to the eye.

Chapter 76: The Unpromising Project

The long bus slowly departed from the main road, turning onto a tree-lined path, with the bright light filtering through the branches, casting a mottled and pleasant atmosphere.

Los Angeles in November remained sunny and pleasant, but not as hot as in midsummer, making it the most suitable season for the human body.

Eugene Whitler, with curly hair and a bushy beard, was the first to jump off the bus, eagerly stretching and then opening his luggage to take out his backpack.

"Hey! This place is amazing! Look at the weather and the scenery! I have to say, although this project is not much, the benefits are pretty good. I've had enough of that ghostly place in Bethesda, cold and damp all the time, feeling like little bugs are drilling in and out of your bones, tapping your bones and sucking your blood."

Faulkner Hawsworth, tall and thin, took the luggage handed over by his friend, scratched his head, and yawned.

"Don't be so disgusting! Buddy, I'm not as optimistic as you. The worst-case scenario is spending one or two years only to find out it's all for nothing, and in the end, delivering something mediocre. All the effort would be in vain."

Carmen Hoson, the project manager of Lockheed's GIPA project, walked over without expression, standing behind the two men, and said in a deep voice:

"I remember both of you have a few instances of absenteeism and violations on record. If there are any objections from the collaborating party again, I won't defend you under pressure. You might end up saving a bonus for this unpromising project, and Solar Corona will probably be very happy."

Eugene and Faulkner were both startled by this sudden remark, and they breathed a sigh of relief when they saw it was their immediate boss, Carmen Hoson.

Eugene grinned and said, "Boss, don't be like that. We're just telling the truth. Do you really have confidence in this project? Come on. The adaptability of the human body has its limits. Intelligent machines are the right direction for development."

"Don't forget, drones still need humans to give commands." Carmen Hoson responded calmly, seemingly unaffected.

"It's because of public pressure, as you know. Otherwise, with the current level of artificial intelligence development, drones could accurately identify targets and carry out precise strikes on their own." Eugene continued to argue, unabashedly, without showing any fear of his boss.

"That makes sense. Since you're so sure, you can be responsible for negotiating with the people from Solar Corona."

Carmen Hoson nodded. After smiling at the lazy subordinates and adding a sentence, he nodded towards the impassive Fortress Company security personnel who had been accompanying them.

Eugene sneakily glanced at these imposing figures exuding a fierce aura and immediately wilted. He wasn't stupid. With so many military projects at Lockheed, and having dealt with security personnel with a military background for quite some time, he could tell that these individuals were of the same type as those he had encountered before—cold, rigid, tough, and unyielding, more mechanical than robots. He didn't want to provoke them unnecessarily.

"I'm a civilized person. Why should I confront these barbarians head-on?" Eugene muttered under his breath as Faulkner pulled him forward into the experimental building.

Carmen Hoson shook his head as he watched the two subordinates. He sighed slightly. It wasn't because these troublemakers caused trouble all day. Although he had a calm temperament, he always agreed with one point: the natural nature of researchers should not be suppressed, which was conducive to unleashing their creativity. Many times, the occasional inspiration of one or two geniuses was worth more than the years of hard work of countless people.

This was probably why Carmen Hoson had not made much progress in recent years in terms of scientific research and academics. Instead, as a manager of a research team, he became more adept. Whether dealing with people or managing these troublemakers, he had a certain set of skills, more like an executive than a scientist.

He also did not hold much hope for the so-called powered armor project, not just against Solar Corona's proposed project. The key was that the limitations of the human body had been a conclusion of many years of research. As an old hand at Lockheed, Carmen Hoson had been in teams such as the bomberhulc basic series exoskeleton, the fortis military-civilian dual-use exoskeleton, and even served as the head of the task force, but the results obtained were minimal. Although there were problems with the power system that could not be solved, the inadequate reaction and endurance of the human body were also important reasons.

For example, under normal circumstances, when the human body is in a vertical position and subjected to a gravitational acceleration of 4 to 5g for 5 to 10 seconds, it will cause tunnel vision, followed by dizziness, nausea, and even loss of consciousness. The most representative example is the roller coaster, where the gravitational acceleration can approach this value when plunging from the highest point, and the seats must be specially designed so that people don't faint.

Of course, top fighter pilots perform much better than ordinary people, especially after targeted training with a centrifuge, their natural tolerance to gravity increases significantly, supplemented by "gravity acceleration suits", they can remain conscious under accelerations of 6 to 9g, but this is already the limit.

In contrast, unmanned aerial vehicles supplemented with artificial intelligence do not need to consider the endurance of pilots, as long as they desperately seek breakthroughs in aircraft materials and structures. At the same time, they have multiple advantages such as faster reaction speed and precise operation.

This was why Carmen Hoson, Eugene, Faulkner, and other outstanding researchers chose to forego joining the TALOS super-large project—not optimistic. However, no matter what, with the military taking the lead, and cooperation from giants such as Lockheed, Raytheon, and General Dynamics, the TALOS project seemed to have a future, at least compared to this so-called implanted power armor project. Solar Corona achieving a breakthrough similar to the military's "super soldier" program? But was that possible?

The US military and DARPA had been researching for decades, but only made slight breakthroughs in reducing sleep requirements and enhancing endurance. It was difficult to talk about creativity.