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Julius Reed looked at Miguel Abbott and Stanislaus Potter before him, “You’re already dead, completely vanished from this world.”

“You are not Miguel Abbott, and you are not Stanislaus Potter.”

“You, are nameless individuals.”

After saying this, Julius Reed waved his hand, and a woman in red immediately approached from the door.

“Red Widow, I’m off to see Janet Carmichael. Look after these two for me. I don’t trust anyone else, and after much consideration, you’re the only reliable one right now.”

He looked at the Red Widow in front of him, then turned and walked to the window.

“Please rest assured.”

The Red Widow nodded, looking at Miguel Abbott and Stanislaus Potter, “Both of you, stay at ease here.”

Last night, Julius Reed used the bodies of two bodyguards to fabricate a car accident, then ignited a huge fire to burn the corpses beyond recognition.

Together with Mr. Harris Mountain’s statement, those people were thoroughly convinced that Miguel Abbott and Stanislaus Potter had died in the car crash.

And Julius Reed did not allow them to inform their families; he directly brought the two men to the top floor office of the Willson Group.

Only in this way, would both of their families believe it to be true, and the dark forces behind the scenes would also believe that the two of them had indeed died.

“I appreciate all your efforts.”

Miguel Abbott sighed and slowly moved beside Julius Reed, “If the Young Master had not come to our rescue yesterday, we might have been dead for good.”

Even now, he still felt the cold sweat on his back.

Miguel Abbott felt confident in his bodyguard skills, and the emergency measures he had prepared were perfect.

But when faced with absolute power, they were nothing!

The darts couldn’t catch up with Mr. Harris Mountain’s speed, and he could lift a car with one hand.

Was such a monster something humans could contend with?

“I had a premonition.”

Julius Reed said casually, “Strictly speaking, your assassination attempt originated because of me. Protecting you is my responsibility.”

“Thank you, Mr. Reed.”

Miguel Abbott bowed deeply.

“Stay here with peace of mind, I must go and deal with some trouble. Remember what I said, don’t show your faces at all costs.”

Julius Reed turned to the Red Widow: “If they take one step out of this room, execute first and report later.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be dead beyond doubt.”

The Red Widow’s eyebrows lifted as she drew a cold, gleaming dagger from nowhere, licked it with her mouth.

This scene startled Miguel Abbott and Stanislaus Potter into breaking out in cold sweat, and any prior touched feelings towards Julius Reed evaporated completely.

After leaving the hidden room in the Willson Building, Julius Reed took the elevator to the presidential office.

“President!”

Several men in black bowed respectfully.

“Let’s hear it, what have each of you found.”

Julius Reed leaned back in his executive chair, observing the men before him.

These were his confidants, all sworn to die for their cause. After taking over the Willson Group, he had planted them inside the company, tasked with monitoring everyone’s actions.

He did not trust, nor dare to use, strangers.

“Recently, Maurice Yarrow visited our group several times, insisting on seeing you, with the general manager receiving him. In the first two visits, Maurice Yarrow refused to reveal his intentions, but on the third, he directly expressed his wish for you to join the Boulevard League.”

“This morning, the Percival Family of the North City sent people to the group, stating their business upfront, and brought a letter for you to open personally. They admired you greatly, but the bottom line of their message was one thing: they ask you to join their organization, the Boulevard League.”

“Fernando Leopold from the Leopold Family personally visited, inviting you to join the Boulevard League.”

The men reported in turn, but it seemed the story was the same–only the messengers were different.

Everyone who comes here aims to invite the Willson Group to join the Boulevard League.

“That’s interesting.”

Julius Reed leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and slowly pondered.

Something was amiss.

The Willson Group was the largest consortium in Five-river Province, overtly surpassing the combined assets of the Leopold Family and the other major families.

Moreover, after multiple reshuffles, the local tycoons of Five-river Province were greatly weakened, with only the Willson Group standing tall like an aircraft carrier.

Any person in their right mind would prioritize courting the Willson Group.

As long as the financial empire agreed, it would be smooth sailing for the other families. Who would dare contend with the newly risen Willson Group?

That would be akin to a mantis trying to stop a chariot, a futile effort.

Yet, the Boulevard League did not court the Willson Group from its inception; instead, they drew in the Leopold Family and the Three Blade Group among other organizations.

It wasn’t until after Miguel Abbott had trouble that the organization’s members came to court the Willson Group.

And when they came, they sent several local tycoons in succession to bombard them with offers.

This move was too abnormal.

“I think I can almost guess who the puppet master behind this is now.”

Julius Reed tapped his fingers lightly, picked up the phone, and dialed a number.

A moment later, the call connected.

“Young Master.”

An aged voice came through.

“Truman Ridge, have you heard of an organization called the Boulevard League recently?”

Julius Reed asked casually.

After a second of silence on the phone, Truman Ridge’s voice came, “I have not, what is this organization? I have been devoutly praying and meditating at home recently and am not aware of external affairs. If you wish me to investigate this organization, I will arrange for someone immediately.”

“Oh! It’s nothing, I was just inquiring with you. Continue with your prayers. By the way, the Willson Group is operating very well, and I really need to thank you for that.”

In that second of hesitation on the other end, Julius Reed almost got his answer.

But verbally, he still acted as if it was all indifferent to him.

“It’s my duty, and I’m honored to be able to serve the Young Master.”

Truman Ridge’s tone was especially respectful, and even his voice was very low.

“How is your grandson, Finnian Ridge doing?”

Julius Reed asked, “Last time I might have been a bit too harsh, nothing serious, right?”

“My grandson did not know his own limits; the Young Master’s discipline was correct! Now his face is disfigured, and I have confined him to the house, not allowing him a single step outside.”

Truman Ridge’s voice carried a hint of sorrow, though he tried hard to hide it, it did not escape Julius Reed’s ears.

“Hm.”

Having received the answer, Julius Reed hung up the phone.

“Go, find out the latest on Finnian Ridge! I want the most accurate results, and you have half an hour,” Julius Reed commanded, shaking his head as he sat in the chair, murmuring to himself, “Truly overestimating one’s capabilities.”

The men in black immediately left the office, gathering intelligence at top speed.

Ten minutes later, they returned.

“Finnian Ridge, unable to bear the pain of disfigurement, poisoned himself half a month ago. The Ridge Family kept the death a secret and buried him hastily,” reported the person in charge truthfully.

“Recently, Truman Ridge has indeed secluded himself and has been immersed in prayer, apathetic towards external affairs; the Ridge Family has been controlled by his sons.”

“Moreover, the Ridge Family’s butler has been very active lately, making more appearances than in the past three years.”

Hearing a series of reports, Julius Reed stood up from his chair, looking towards the distant high-rise buildings, “If you are indeed a dragon, can you be truly trapped?”