When There Is Nothing Left But Love

Chapter 1807

Chapter 1807 Survey

Everything was ready. After staying there for about twenty-four hours, I could finally leave the deserted place.

Nathaniel didn’t have his laptop with him at that moment. That meant anyone could get their hands on the data stored inside it if they were to break in right then. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my phone with me, so I couldn’t contact anyone. I had no choice but to let this opportunity slip away.

Earlier, I saw, on the screen, that Nathaniel mentioned something about a place. I assumed that the place in question was a pub or club because places like those had loud music and dim lighting. These factors would make it perfect for Nathaniel to make any shady business deals.

However, he drove to a run-down village, and I realized that I had a lot more to learn.

The village was small, and there was only one road in and out of the village. Nathaniel’s enormous car could barely fit on that road. Off the main road, however, there were many smaller paths. A junction would show up every few feet, and I could see kids in washed-out clothes running around. They would turn a corner and be out of sight soon after, though.

The older kids would chase after the car. It was likely that it had been a while since they last saw a luxurious car traveling down the road.

Nathaniel didn’t get out of the car until we reached the point where it was absolutely impossible for his car to keep going.

It didn’t take long before we entered a simple cabin. It was crowded, and everyone was working. Some were there to sell their drugs, and some were there to provide transportation. Yet, they all had one thing in common — their clothing was washed out, and they looked like they had been starving.

As soon as we entered, Nathaniel and I reacted the same way. When our noses detected the pungent smell exuding from the poor villagers, we both blatantly got our handkerchiefs out to cover our nose and mouth. He frowned in annoyance and said, “Maybe I should have come to their rescue sooner.”

Nathaniel saw his own factory as an art museum and regarded the drugs as exquisite pieces of art.

“Mr. Hall,” greeted a man in a tuxedo. He was probably the only person who worked directly under Nathaniel. This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

Still frowning deeply, Nathaniel behaved like a man who was not accustomed to the environment that the poor lived in.

The man in tuxedo explained the process after that.

“This entire village is the distribution center, and the head of this village is the one responsible for managing the operation. The other villagers will deliver the product after they receive their orders. This village’s paths are complicated, so the men we hire can get away easily should the police show up. We don’t have to worry about our customers losing their ways, though, because a villager will come to lead the way for them. Oh, and I should also mention that the villagers are united. If anyone were to hold one of them as a hostage, every other villager would come to the rescue. Hence, the only way to deal with the issue is if someone somehow manages to eradicate the entire village.”

It was undeniable that Freja’s plan was virtually perfect. She took advantage of the legal system and the hatred the villagers had for the government that had abandoned them. Even if an unpredictable issue arose, it would be difficult for the authorities to do anything in a place like this. “Okay, then just do as I asked. You will have full control over this operation. Just give me a satisfactory result as soon as possible,” replied Nathaniel, who wasn’t really in the mood to continue listening to what the man in the tuxedo had to say.

“Understood,” said the latter.

I wanted to take a closer look, but Nathaniel didn’t want to stay any longer. Thus, he dragged me out and left in the car quickly.

He didn’t roll the windows down until the village was quite far away. After that, he sighed a breath of relief. He had one hand on the steering wheel, and he had his other arm rested beside the car’s window. As he drove, he commented on Freja’s work. “A disaster — that is the only word to describe a place like that village. There is no way we can make it big in a place like that. No wonder the country’s market has been underperforming all these years! Women just can’t be trusted to plan for the future.”

The man used words like “underperforming” and “market.” Frankly speaking, a random stranger might think that he was talking about a promising and legitimate business if they didn’t know the context.

I was already upset about how the so-called survey only lasted for less than one minute, so I picked a fight. In an icy tone, I asked, “Excuse me, but are you referring to me when you say that women can’t be trusted?”

Only then did Nathaniel realize that his words included me. He narrowed his eyes at me a little and readjusted his sitting posture before explaining, “You’re not like the other girls.”

“How so? Am I different just because I’m not a virgin, whereas every other woman you came in contact with isn’t? Is that why you say that I’m not like the other girls? Because you’re not interested in sleeping with me?”