I Want to See the Director (Seventh Update, 2,900 Monthly Tickets Bonus, Please Subscribe!!!)

Lake watched the president and Archbishop Sobia delivering speeches on the big screen without changing expression.

He had a question.

Now that these masterminds knew he existed, how did they still dare frame Bob Lee Swagger?

If Swagger had merely been a patriotic veteran, then the masterminds might indeed have been able to turn him into a pawn to take the blame.

But…

The man behind Swagger was Lake.

Federal executive, senior Homeland Security director for New York State, Lake Edwin.

Could it be that the arrow had already been nocked and had to be released?

Were they certain that Swagger would not live long enough to reach the Department of Homeland Security and meet him?

Ha!

Was this Shooter?

Lake lowered his head and smiled.

Just then.

Bang!

"Holy shit!"

"God!"

"An assassin!"

As the Operations Center watched Mr. President and the archbishop speaking on the big screen, Archbishop Sobia, who had just shaken hands and embraced the president, was suddenly shot between the eyebrows and fell to the ground, going to meet his Lord.

The speech venue instantly descended into chaos.

Secret Service team leader Mike Banning immediately stepped forward and used his body to shield the president behind him. Several Secret Service agents surrounded the president almost simultaneously, then quickly evacuated him according to the emergency plan.

Almost everyone assumed that this terrorist assassination had targeted the president.

But Lake knew the truth.

The moment Archbishop Sobia died, there was a whoosh. The Force Seed in the sea of consciousness seemed to cross the distance between time and space and directly retrieve a mass of sacred light.

"What is this?"

"Wishing power."

Lake sensed the information from the Force Seed. This ball of light was the purest wishing power. It appeared whenever someone prayed to or made a request of Lake.

Ordinary gods needed to respond to this thing. Simply put, if you wanted this wishing power, you had to fulfill the request contained within it.

Lake was different.

His fundamental law was plunder. Lake could choose to respond to the wishing power, but because of his fundamental law, he could also devour it and act as though nothing had happened.

What would Lake choose?

It was obvious.

Boom!

After the Force Seed instantly devoured the sacred wishing power, there was a bang. Lake’s brow throbbed as he stared at the sky above his sea of consciousness. Once the wishing power entered, it swept through that space like a mushroom bomb.

Buzz!

The Seventh Sense?

Lake could hardly believe it. He could feel that after comprehending the Sixth Sense, his spirit, physical attributes, and reaction speed had been advancing rapidly every day.

Yet he had not fully achieved the Sixth Sense. How had he already touched upon the Seventh Sense?

Why were Gold Saints so powerful?

What determined the strength of a Saint was not their armor, but their Cosmo.

Why were Gold Saints incomparably powerful? It was precisely because they had comprehended the essence of the Cosmo—the Seventh Sense!

If fully comprehending the Sixth Sense meant becoming a Superman without any weaknesses, able to see through the neighboring universe, then comprehending the Seventh Sense undoubtedly meant becoming a god.

But…

This was too soon.

Lake had no time to think about it, because Long Island had completely descended into chaos.

The president had been attacked.

Without a doubt, this was a terrorist attack, and Homeland Security had been established precisely for incidents like this.

"Bass!"

"Lake, where are you?"

"What do you think?"

"The president…"

Lake listened to Deputy Director David Bass and said directly, "The person the FBI is pursuing right now was framed. The real target was Archbishop Sobia."

David Bass, who was at the scene, looked up as if he wanted to see the satellites. His expression was somewhat dazed. "How did you…"

Lake smiled. "I have an informant."

Bass looked around at the chaotic surroundings. "What do we do now?"

Lake sneered. "Deal with it. Someone dared to launch a terrorist attack on my turf. I’ll strip him down to his underwear."

He hung up.

Lake instructed the Homeland agents to bring up the surveillance feeds at the four intersections around the Homeland Building. At that moment, Jack was leading a team to establish positions at the intersections connecting Long Island directly to the Homeland Building.

"Jack!"

"Sir!"

"The three people standing across the street at your three o’clock, and the two people standing outside the coffee shop at your seven o’clock. Arrest them directly. If they resist, shoot them!"

"Who’s at Baker Street?"

"Dolly, sir!"

"The five people at your five o’clock, and the van parked on the roadside at your nine o’clock."

"Understood!"

"…"

Lake sat in the center. Having broken through the Sixth Sense, his overwhelmingly powerful mental perception covered all four intersections, allowing him to identify the assassins lying in wait one after another. They had been prepared to open fire the moment Swagger appeared.

"Await my order!"

"Understood!"

Lake fell silent, then said to Tiffany beside him, "Issue an A-level threat warning in the name of Homeland Security."

Tiffany nodded.

Ten seconds later.

Tiffany glanced back at Lake and nodded, indicating that the message had been sent.

Lake looked directly at the four intersections displayed on the big screen and said to the agents there, "Move!"

As soon as he spoke, Jack, who was guarding an intersection, focused on the targets Lake had identified and waved his hand. "Go, go, go!"

The Homeland agents on either side of Jack immediately drew their weapons and called out to attract the targets’ attention. "DHS, sir. Raise your hands high."

The assassin looked somewhat dazed. "Why?"

The Homeland agent placed his right hand directly on the trigger, ready to fire at any moment. "Do it. Now!"

The assassin exchanged a glance with his companion.

Only then did they suddenly realize that although the intersection was usually extremely busy, two minutes had already passed without a single vehicle going through.

The assassin glanced behind him. The road leading in this direction had been sealed off at some point.

Just then.

A bang rang out from the Baker Street intersection.

They had been exposed.

Without a doubt.

Although the assassins did not know how they had been exposed, they now understood their situation. With a swift motion, the assassin drew his gun.

"Rat-tat-tat!"

"Pfft, pfft, pfft!"

The moment the assassin drew his weapon, the Homeland agents, who had already received the order to engage, pulled their triggers without hesitation. In an instant, clouds of blood burst from the assassins who had long since been targeted.

In the blink of an eye.

The assassins at all four intersections were riddled with bullets.

Lake had never intended to take prisoners, so Jack and the others had not planned to capture them alive either. This was a major intersection, after all, and leaving the operation to drag on would have created a bad impression.

Half an hour later.

Underground parking garage of the Homeland Building.

Twenty-one assassins, riddled with bullets, lay side by side in a row on the cold concrete floor.

"How did the cleanup outside go?"

"They’ve been allowed through. Some people only know that gunshots were fired, but they don’t know what happened."

"Good."

Lake nodded, then looked at Jack. "Tell me, how did the people behind this contact them?"

Jack gestured to an agent, who brought over a plastic box. Inside, twenty-one disposable phones stood out conspicuously.

Ring, ring, ring!

One of the phones rang.

Lake took the disposable phone Jack pulled out and handed to him, then answered it.

A cold voice came from the other end. "He’s heading toward you. Pay attention. Don’t let him get close to that damn Homeland Building."

Lake said nothing.

The person on the other end seemed to realize something as well. "Number Five? Number Five?"

Lake spoke. "Sorry, Number Five hung—"

"Beep! Beep! Beep!"

"…"

Lake looked at the phone, which had been hung up before he could finish speaking, and shook his head. He tossed it to Jack. "No manners. I hadn’t even finished talking."

Tiffany walked over. "Sir, someone named Mike Banning is on the line."

Lake took the earpiece. "Mike."

"Someone…"

"The target isn’t Mr. President."

"You…"

"I have an informant."

"…You’re serious?"

"What do you think?"

Lake stepped back into the elevator. After Tiffany entered, he closed the doors. "These people’s target was Archbishop Sobia. This morning, Archbishop Sobia asked me to investigate a case. Clearly, the masterminds behind it didn’t want the archbishop to speak."

"Who?"

"I don’t know. But I know who does."

Lake stepped out of the elevator and looked at the television, where a large image of Bob Lee Swagger had appeared. He spoke up. "The person currently wanted by the FBI, Swagger. You should know him. He used to be the sniper in my unit."

Mike Banning, who had successfully escorted the president to the designated safe house, loosened his tie and thought for a moment. "I think I remember him. He’s an elite sniper. Mr. President will want a briefing in ten minutes. Do you have any information?"

Lake glanced at Tiffany, who gave him an OK sign, and told Banning over the phone about Archbishop Sobia’s visit that morning. "The archbishop discovered a serious massacre, but since it wasn’t under the jurisdiction of Homeland Security, I declined. But now that there’s been a terrorist attack, it’s my responsibility. I’ve sent the evidence to your email. You can show it to the president."

He hung up.

Lake turned to Tiffany, who was sitting nearby. "Get me the attorney general."

Tiffany nodded.

Ten minutes later.

A blue Chevrolet, battered nearly beyond recognition, came roaring into the Homeland Building parking lot. With a loud crash, it smashed through the barrier, then slammed into the wall after several more bangs.

Wail, wail, wail!

Behind it, more than a dozen FBI vehicles followed closely.

Thud!

Swagger, covered in blood and suffering from a severe abdominal wound, forced his way out of the vehicle. Seeing the Homeland agents emerging from the Homeland Building with more than a dozen pistols aimed at him, he dropped to his knees, raised his hands high, and shouted, "My name is Bob Lee Swagger! I’ve been framed! I want to see Lake Edwin!"