The next day, Jeremiah left Skyland early again. Every day in Betrico felt jam-packed; he wished he could stretch the hours. When not with Yvette, he was immersed in various military tasks. In a week, he would be responsible for security during the Yhaullan Prime Minister's visit.
Even if he disliked them, the Prime Minister and entourage were still guests of a great nation. Extensive coordination was required for proper preparation. The First Military District, under Jeremiah's command, was top secret; even reaching the outskirts demanded rigorous checks.
Emmett watched several people enter the conference room, his gaze settling on the man at the head of the group. Surprised, he wondered, "Why has Clifford come personally?"
Approaching respectfully, Emmett addressed him, "Mr. Clifford Chavez, Deputy Commander Tim." Besides them, several officials had also arrived. Clifford's influence had secured their access to the First Military District, which would have been difficult given their ranks.
Clifford wore a seemingly plain black suit. In reality, all his clothing was custom-made by a fashion house owned by Aurora—impossible to find elsewhere. His daily appearances in international media demanded attention to attire representing national dignity. Tim, in his military uniform, was easily distinguished by the stars on his shoulders.
Clifford nodded slightly, sizing up Emmett before frowning. "Why do you look so thin? Isn't Jeremiah feeding you?" Tim and the others behind him subtly shifted, their mouths twitching. They thought, Only Clifford would dare say that. After all, he's Jeremiah's father.
Emmett responded seriously, "No, sir. Mr. Jeremiah Chavez always tells me to eat more. I eat quite a lot."
Clifford snorted, saying nothing. Jeremiah's temper was infamous, yet his subordinates were fiercely loyal.
Tim remarked, "Where's Mr. Jeremiah Chavez? I heard about a bridge accident last night; he was at the scene until dawn."
Others chimed in, agreeing. They lauded Jeremiah's calm handling of the crisis, highlighting his rapid organization of medical aid from three military districts and decisive actions. One even expressed a wish for their own son to be half as capable.
Thanks to Jeremiah's leadership, the bridge accident resulted in minimal injuries. The news reported the event that morning, praising Jeremiah's performance. Many envied Clifford for having such a talented son, contrasting him with their own children.
Clifford, informed of the situation earlier, offered a subtle, knowing smile. He maintained a straight face when Tim commented, "What's there to commend? It's just his duty."
The group exchanged glances, perceiving Clifford's response as humble, yet failing to grasp his dismissive expression.
After Clifford and Tim settled, the conference room doors swung open at nine o'clock. Jeremiah entered, wearing the same uniform as Tim. Everyone noted the stark contrast; even in uniform, Jeremiah possessed the elegance of a runway model. Tim, noticing this, cleared his throat awkwardly, his face falling. He felt unfairly compared.
Jeremiah's dark eyes scanned the room, pausing momentarily on Clifford before quietly shifting his gaze. He walked to the main seat—a position only he could occupy in the First Military District.
Calmly, he announced, "Let's begin." His direct approach was familiar to those present; he never wasted words.
Emmett, standing aside, opened his laptop. "Everyone, today's focus is Ybaulla's Prime Minister's visit to Clusia. Reliable sources suggest Prime Minister Kyle's visit isn't solely for trade agreements. They're bringing associates, and their intentions might be hostile."
Internally, Emmett thought, There's no need for politeness with this group if Mr. Chavez doesn't say so. How dare they cause trouble! They're courting death!
Clifford's expression hardened, his voice mirroring his disdain. He explained that the younger generation might lack the deep-seated national and personal grudges that his generation, who fought for global influence, possessed.
He asked, "Is this information accurate? Who accompanies Kyle? Years ago, they used a similar visit as a pretext for interactions with Betrico University. It seems like the same old tricks."
Tim scoffed, "Are these Ybaulla people bored or something? We didn't have this much drama back in the day!"
The others were unsurprised; national competition extended beyond military might, encompassing technology and talent. One composed man remarked on the difficulty of the situation. It was a competition they couldn't afford to lose; under the guise of cultural exchange, a Ybaullan victory would be globally touted.
Jeremiah's fingers tapped the table, each joint sharply defined. His eyes lifted, revealing a chilling glint as he stated, "Accompanying Kyle are Kaiden, a skilled kendo practitioner, and Robin, a chess expert."
The others were stunned. They questioned how Jeremiah had obtained this classified information, implying significant influence. They knew Jeremiah didn't fabricate information.
The meeting lasted an hour. Afterwards, Tim and the others departed, leaving Jeremiah, Clifford, and Emmett.
Clifford sipped his coffee, observing Jeremiah. How does this brat keep getting more handsome? he mused.
Jeremiah's dark eyes met his. Clifford, always serious at work, possessed a different mindset outside of it.
Clifford asked, "When are you bringing your wife home for me to meet?"
Jeremiah replied slowly, "Tonight."
Clifford, inwardly overjoyed at the prospect of a daughter-in-law, maintained a stern façade. Emmett, observing, thought, Jeremiah's acting skills are no match for Clifford's.