Chapter 1101: Chapter 769: Selling Dog Meat [02] Miracle
After instructing Rosie, Nora Scott left with peace of mind.
She took a stroll.
Originally wanting to find Pedro Langley, somehow she wandered to the first camp.
So she thought she’d drop by to see Fátima.
As she passed a row of military off-road vehicles, she lazily heard a voice from the left asking, "Are you taking a walk?"
Nora turned her head.
She saw Fátima sitting on the hood of a jeep, with one leg bent, holding a kettle, elbow resting on her knee, looking in her direction.
A male eagle perched on her shoulder.
Buddha.
She raised her arm, and Buddha spread his wings, flew directly to Nora, circled her twice, then flapped his wings and flew into the distant night sky.
Nora smirked, watched Buddha fly away, then replied to Fátima, "Digesting."
"Fairies shouldn’t talk about eating and drinking," Fátima raised an eyebrow.
?
A big question mark appeared on Nora’s forehead.
Then, she heard Fátima say, "Ruining the persona."
"..."
That’s the persona you insist on setting for yourself!
Nora felt Fátima lived in a dream, but she dared not say it face-to-face, for fear of damaging their sisterly bond.
"Come here."
Fátima beckoned her over.
Nora walked over.
Then, Fátima extended a hand.
After a slight hesitation, Nora raised her hand to grab it, and with a little force from Fátima, Nora used the momentum to jump lightly, and soon she was sitting by Fátima’s side.
"Here."
Fátima handed over the kettle.
Nora glanced at it, instinctively feeling that something was off, "What is it?"
"Mare’s milk."
Fátima chuckled.
"...Oh."
Nora took the kettle. She unscrewed it, sniffed lightly, then tilted her head back to take a sip.
She had tasted mare’s milk before and didn’t reject this flavor.
Acceptable.
"Where’s April Thomason?" Nora asked casually as she leisurely twisted the cap back on.
This stuff is likely enjoyed by April Thomason.
Fátima said, "She just learned to ride a horse, eagerly racing with others, busy having fun."
Upon hearing this, Nora suddenly realized no sounds of the usual commotion could be heard, aside from those from the standing guard and patrollers nearby.
Upon closer listening, she could hear the commotion in the distance, people shouting, singing.
She looked toward the sound.
She saw a bonfire, with a bunch of silhouettes. In the vast and silent wilderness, under the firelight and moonlight, the scene was filled with noise and joy.
"The mission isn’t over yet, and your people are already going crazy?" Nora asked, slightly surprised.
"It’s non-duty time, they’re free to do as they please." Fátima replied as if it was obvious, "Where would you go to argue if they’re suffocated?"
"..."
Nora was speechless.
Then she thought of something and asked, "Why didn’t you join them?"
"Waiting for you."
Fátima said confidently.
Nora looked at her sideways, "How did you know I would come?"
"I didn’t know." Fátima took Nora’s kettle, unscrewed it, took a sip, wiped her mouth, and said uprightly, "If you hadn’t come, I’d go find you."
"..."
Setting the kettle aside, Fátima took off her camo hat, tossed it aside, slowly rolled up her sleeves, and opened her mouth casually, "Two hours ago, I received a reply from the top."
Her tone was very casual.
However, Nora keenly sensed a hint of—something unusual.
Then, she heard Fátima nonchalantly say, "The top has approved; the specifics of the Loulanel plan could be disclosed to you."
Nora suddenly straightened her back.
"What?" she asked.
Clearly interested, yet her tone remained steady.
No rise or fall in it.
As if it were idle chatter.
Fátima said, "To protect the secret of Lanel City."
"..."
"..."
Nora had been expecting Fátima to elaborate, but suddenly realized Fátima had gone silent.
After a while, she raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Hmm?"
Fátima shrugged, "All specific data was destroyed by Sir Easton, those aware of the details died early, no one knows the specifics."
"That’s it?" Nora breathed.
"Yes."
Nora got annoyed, "You might as well not tell me."
"..."
"You applied for so long just for these eight words?" Nora was clearly baffled by this result.
"Yeah." Fátima nodded, then said, "It’s official matters; protocols matter."
"Wouldn’t it have been easier to sneakily tell me?" Nora frowned.
Fátima asked with great confidence, "Am I that kind of person?"
Nora was greatly surprised, "You’re not that kind of person?"
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