Chapter 346: Getting Ready and the Distillery
The next day, Ron and the team of scientists went to Howard's lab for breakfast as usual.
"This is seriously cool. I never thought that hydraulic presses could be used to make breakfast." Ron couldn't help but marvel. These scientists were genuinely ingenious. They actually used an industrial press to make sandwiches for breakfast. The efficiency was insane—a sandwich could be made in just three minutes.
"If you ever need a side hustle, how about using this to make paninis and sell them?"
"You'd go broke," Howard said, opening the machine and taking out a freshly made tuna melt. He sat down next to Ron. "Can you imagine? This thing cost the university $170,000. Want one?"
Howard offered a sandwich to Eggsy, who was standing awkwardly beside him, but Ron snatched it away before it even left his hand. "I'm sorry, dear gentlemen, although I promised Mycroft I'd help you out, breakfast wasn't included in that agreement. My sincere apologies."
He said he was sorry, but Ron didn't feel a bit apologetic. Yes, he did it on purpose.
Mycroft had told him on the phone yesterday that besides the Kingsman agents wiped out in Britain, a remnant of the organization remained in the United States, still operating under the cover of Statesman Distillery.
Even though Ron had never considered himself a patriot, he was still pissed off by this arrangement. Anyone would feel that way if someone were secretly spying on them right under their nose. Naturally, Ron also directed his irritation at Eggsy and Merlin, who had come seeking his help.
Especially since they had tracked him down at CalTech, which further proved that his individual exoskeleton project had been under their surveillance all along, making Ron feel like he'd been stripped naked and examined.
Sure enough, even in the 21st century, the British intelligence services' habit of stealing technology wherever they went hadn't changed at all. He finally understood why the Kingsman agents had so much high-tech equipment—it was all stolen tech.
He wasn't sure how much they knew about his exoskeleton technology, but even if they did, it didn't matter. The technology itself wasn't that complex; it was just innovation. Even if they didn't steal it, various countries had already started their own powered exoskeleton programs, but they were more concerned with cost and pursuing economies of scale for mass production. Ron, on the other hand, only cared about one thing: performance.
So what if they stole it? Who's ever seen a mass-produced Zaku defeat a custom Gundam?
"It's alright, I'm not really hungry anyway," Eggsy said casually. However, a loud, rumbling stomach immediately betrayed his lie.
In reality, he and Merlin had barely eaten anything since the attack yesterday.
"This breakfast will cost you 10 pounds sterling—I mean pounds, not dollars,"
Ron said, pushing the sandwich he'd just stolen toward Eggsy. The latter thanked him and immediately began eating, his movements refined despite his hunger. Ron scoffed; they were already defeated, what was he putting on airs for?
"Listen, if I weren't also investigating the Golden Circle case, I wouldn't want to get involved in your clusterfuck. My agreement with Mycroft came with conditions. First, you have to tell me—who exactly took you guys out?"
"It was a guy with a prosthetic arm. He used to be one of our senior agents, but he turned traitor. According to our intel, he joined that mysterious organization called the Golden Circle. Eggsy even spotted a golden brand on his body during their fight."
Merlin showed Ron a video downloaded from Eggsy's tactical glasses. A yellow ring tattoo on the man's chest was clearly visible in the footage. "Although Eggsy ultimately failed to capture him, we recovered his prosthetic arm."
Merlin took a mechanical arm out of his case and placed it on the table. "This is it. For some reason, it was left behind in one of our agents' vehicles, but none of us expected that this prosthetic could be remotely accessed.
That traitor used it to hack into our network, locate all the agents' safe houses, and launch missile strikes to eliminate us all."
"Whoa!" The futuristic robotic arm immediately drew the enthusiastic attention of the three scientists. Even Ron couldn't resist picking it up for a closer look. But the more he examined it, the more familiar it seemed. Suddenly, a realization struck Ron, and he began to mock them, "You're not going to tell me that your traitor is called the Winter Soldier, are you?
I'd almost believe it if I hadn't seen Captain America myself. What else are you going to claim? That some purple alien named Thanos is coming to Earth soon, and only Mycroft's brother putting on a magic cape can save the world? Is there anything more ridiculous than that? Please, gentlemen, don't try to bullshit me with that B-movie comic book plot. I need the truth!"
Ron felt like he'd been played. Wasn't this straight out of Captain America? The problem was, he had verified multiple times—this was a relatively normal world; there was no S.H.I.E.L.D. or Doctor Strange with superpowers. Now Merlin was putting the Winter Soldier's prosthetic in front of him and claiming this thing could grant superhuman strength and remotely hack computers. It was absolutely absurd.
"No, Ron, they might actually be telling the truth!" Howard exclaimed in surprise, disassembling a section of the prosthetic arm. "Look, there's a receiver here that can continuously accept external signals. Ron, this really is a remotely controlled prosthetic. Give me five minutes, and I can hijack control of it right now!"
Inside the opened mechanical casing, a sophisticated circuit board was exposed. Although Ron couldn't understand what these circuits did, it didn't stop him from trusting Howard's expertise.
"Alright, then I'm revising the terms we agreed on earlier. This thing is mine now too. Now let's continue our previous discussion. Did you bring everything I asked for?"
Merlin opened another case and set it on the table. Umbrellas, oxfords, lighters, and other top-tier spy equipment were all there—part of the payment Ron was demanding for his assistance.
Ron casually picked up an umbrella, triggered a hidden mechanism, and with a "pop," a tranquilizer dart shot out from the tip of the umbrella and hit the wall.
Ron nodded in satisfaction. "Good. The rest will be delivered after this operation. Gentlemen, where are we headed now?"
"Kentucky, to Statesman Distillery."
Ron smiled. "Kentucky? I think you'll enjoy their bourbon."
(End of Chapter)
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