Pretending To Be A Boss

The rest of the people gradually left, and Ke Ye was tidying up the notes on the table when Zhang An spoke up:

"Ke, I've looked out for you on normal days, haven't I?"

"Zhang, are you asking if I've fully disclosed the formula?"

Zhang An was taken aback; this kid Ke Ye was quite smart.

"Come on, let's talk while walking. Tell me the truth, is there still potential for further improvement in this formula?"

After thinking it over, Ke Ye felt that these people were after all considering the national interest. Plus, since they often had to deal with the weapons supervisory department, it would be best to make friends if possible. He then said:

"To be honest with you, this is both a full disclosure and not quite a disclosure."

"What do you mean?"

"The formula is indeed the best alloy formula I can master at present, with no reservations. I haven't kept any private stock for myself; I've disclosed everything."

Zhang An asked:

"Then how can you say it's not fully disclosed?"

"Because what I can't think of, my friend can. He must have an even stronger alloy formula in his possession."

"Do we have such a wondrous person in our circle?"

"He's not in the weapon-making business. Doesn't even count as doing it part-time. It's just a hobby for him, and I'm not clear about what his job is—consider him a miner, I guess. You'll find out tomorrow."

Ke Ye smiled, thinking that revealing this formula might have been a fluke devised by someone for slaughtering pigs, which may be too much of a blow for them. He didn't say more and directly left.

Zhang An was left dumbfounded under the tree, his face filled with disbelief.

...

...

In a way, Ke Ye wasn't wrong—Tang Xian could be considered a low-level employee who had not even received his diploma.

Upon arriving at Bastion 51, Tang Xian didn't delay; he had already contacted Ke Ye. The miscellaneous affairs were all properly handled.

With Li Zheng's company, their group entered the fifth level without any obstruction.

After passing numerous weapon shops far surpassing Liu Lang's blacksmith shop in both scale and technology, Tang Xian met up with Ke Ye.

At a height of one meter seventy, he was still young but already had a slight hunch. His skin had darkened compared to before, not as pale. Nor did he have the timidity of the past, but instead carried a trace of determination.

Tang found this good; these were the signs of a person's growth.

Ke Ye wanted to say something, but seeing Tang's faint smile, he couldn't utter a word.

Show-offs, complaints, extramarital affairs—these became labels of many class reunions.

Ke Ye never attended a class reunion. For six years, he had been solely devoted to making weapons, also because Tang Xian's name was never on the guest list of those reunions.

A true heartfelt friend, upon reuniting after many years, brought more emotion and satisfaction in an instant of eye contact than an entire class reunion could ever offer.

As Ke Ye thought about this, it was fortunate that Tang was not a sentimental person, otherwise, at this moment, two grown men might have ended up embracing in a surge of emotions.

As Ke Ye was pondering how to invite Tang to the House of Daedalus,

Tang spoke directly:

"Let's talk during the surgery. My friend is still being located, and there's still a bomb hidden in his spine. We can't delay any longer. Prepare the instruments, and let's start immediately."

"Now? You really haven't changed one bit." Ke Ye gave a wry smile.

(I will take a moment of your time from the regular chapter to say this: Since I began writing, I've never asked for any rewards, only for subscriptions, because for both reader and writer, subscription is a fair trade. I have every right to ask for it. The new book is going poorly, and if subscriptions remain low, the editor won't promote it, creating a vicious cycle.

If this book brings any joy to readers following pirated versions, I hope you will support it by subscribing. Additionally, if there is a recommendation arrangement this afternoon, I will provide an explosive release of ten thousand words tomorrow.)