Honorary Consultant

The French Directorate for External Security, also known as the Seventh Bureau or the Foreign Intelligence Agency, had its share of secrets. Deep within one of its underground chambers, a refined yet deathly pale middle-aged man lay on a bed, his brows tightly knit in pain. The extraordinary aura surrounding him was a testament to his mastery of martial arts. After a long pause, he struggled to open his bloodshot eyes.

With a deep sigh, he muttered, "I didn't expect the remnants of the German Nazi Party to be this deranged. It looks like I won't be able to leave this room for two or three months with these injuries." After clenching his teeth in silence, he finally pushed open the chamber door and made his way to the conference room.

This man was Adam Alexandero, the deputy director of France's External Security Agency. But his hidden identity carried even greater weight—he was the head of the French branch of the European Union's Special Intelligence Department, a covert agency operating under extreme secrecy. Unlike the External Security Agency, the Special Intelligence Department handled tasks unknown to the world and recruited only the most exceptional individuals: elite martial artists, wizards, and superpowered beings. Within its ranks were vampires, sorcerers, and magicians, all serving the government.

Adam Alexandero, the fourth son of Caesar Alexandero from the Alps and Andrea's younger brother, was a martial arts prodigy of the Alexandero lineage. By the age of thirty-six, he had reached the rank of True Martial-level warrior in the EU Special Intelligence Department. In this organization, martial artists were classified into six levels: Physical Martial, Intent Martial, True Martial, Transcendent Martial, Celestial Martial, and Divine Martial.

Division heads were required to hold at least True Martial status, while leaders of elite units like the Heaven Alliance, Earth Alliance, and Human Alliance were Celestial Martial warriors. However, the department's honorary consultants—figures of legendary stature—were beyond classification, their strength a mystery. One such figure was Caesar Alexandero, a legendary martial artist who served as both the loyal hidden retainer of the Hershville family and an honorary consultant to the EU Special Intelligence Department. Interestingly, the current head of the Hershville family, Fanmuir, had unwittingly become an honorary consultant in the same department.

At the National Key Materials Research Base of the Paris Institute of Science and Humanities, researchers had recently developed a groundbreaking metal alloy. With properties far surpassing current technology, this alloy promised to revolutionize aerospace and defense industries, catapulting France to the forefront of global innovation in these fields.

But before the alloy could be officially announced, operatives of the German Nazi Party, embedded within France, uncovered intelligence about the discovery. Recognizing its value, they assembled a team of True Martial-level warriors to steal the research data. Despite the agency's best efforts, the Nazis succeeded, and Adam Alexandero w

In the conference room, members of the French branch of the EU Special Intelligence Department watched anxiously as Adam sat at the head of the table, his face pale and drawn from exhaustion.

"Boss, what should we do? If we don't stop them soon, those German Nazis will smuggle the new alloy out of the country!" a rugged young man in his twenties blurted out, his tone brimming with urgency.

Adam shot a sharp glance at his subordinate, Sackler, and scolded him sternly, "How many times have I told you? Stay calm no matter the situation. Panic solves nothing. Have you learned nothing after all these years?"

Sackler opened his mouth to argue but immediately clamped it shut under Adam's piercing gaze, retreating into silence.

"Joseph, what's the update from headquarters?" Adam asked, his voice steady, though his mind was as restless as his subordinates'.

"Headquarters has informed us that reinforcements from the EU Special Intelligence Department won't arrive for another five hours at the earliest," Joseph replied evenly.

"Five hours? By then, the Nazis will have already escaped with the alloy!" Sackler exclaimed again, unable to contain himself, only to be silenced by another withering glare from Adam.

"However," Joseph continued, "headquarters mentioned we have an honorary consultant stationed at the Paris Institute of Science and Humanities. Perhaps we can enlist his help."

Adam nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, that's a good lead." He turned to another sharp-looking young man. "What's the latest on the Nazis? Are they still being monitored?"

"Yes, sir. They've holed up in a German company located in the Sergy Industrial Park. From the looks of it, this company isn't just here to do business—it's likely a secret branch of their organization. We suspect they'll make their move after nightfall. If they do, we risk losing control of the situation," the young man reported crisply.

"Keep eyes on them, but make sure no one engages. These bastards are no joke. If I'm not mistaken, the unit we're dealing with is the Green Sword Division. They've clearly spared no effort in this operation," Adam said, his tone heavy with caution.

"If only our Heaven Alliance were here! These bastards wouldn't stand a chance!" Sackler muttered bitterly. His greatest ambition was to join the Heaven Alliance, the elite strike force of the EU Special Intelligence Department—a team far superior to the local divisions.

The winter evening fell early, and by six o'clock, darkness had already engulfed the city.

The screech of tires broke the quiet outside the men's dormitory at the Paris Institute of Science and Humanities as a military off-road vehicle came to a halt. A fierce-looking young man emerged from the driver's seat, followed by a pale and exhausted middle-aged man from the passenger side. Without hesitation, the two made their way toward the dormitory's reception desk.

The pair were none other than Adam Alexandero and Sackler. Following the earlier meeting, Adam had carefully reiterated his orders to avoid engaging the Nazi remnants prematurely. With their plan in mind, the two had set off swiftly for the Paris Institute of Science and Humanities.

Fanmuir was truly an enigmatic figure. His records offered no insight into who he was—there was no mention of his birthplace, his skills, or his background. All that Adam could ascertain was that he held the highest rank of honorary consultant and was currently a freshman at the Paris Institute of Science and Humanities.

It wasn't surprising that Adam Alexandero couldn't find any real information about Fanmuir. When Andrea arranged for Fanmuir to receive honorary consultant status in the EU Special Intelligence Department, it was meant as nothing more than a powerful credential—a kind of ultimate pass for navigating society with ease. Andrea, having experienced the complexities of modern society firsthand, understood its many pitfalls and challenges. To ensure that Fanmuir could live with minimal interference from mundane matters, Andrea had personally asked his younger brother Adam Alexandero, a leader within the intelligence department, to secure this honorary title. Naturally, Andrea had revealed nothing about Fanmuir's true identity.

If Andrea ever discovered that his well-meaning effort had inadvertently led to Adam disturbing the leader of the Huxville family, he would undoubtedly be furious. To bother Fanmuir, the supreme figure of the family, with trivial matters would be an unpardonable offense. Should Caesar Alexandero learn of this, Andrea's punishment would be severe, possibly even life-threatening.

Thankfully, Adam understood the gravity of an honorary consultant's status. He knew such an appointment required Caesar Alexandero's direct approval and that individuals of this rank were to be treated with the utmost reverence. It was clear to Adam that he had to deliver the invitation personally. Sending a subordinate to summon Fanmuir would not only be inappropriate but a disastrous affront to the hierarchy—akin to Caesar Alexandero's son dispatching an errand boy to summon his master.

What Adam didn't know was that the person he was about to meet was none other than the leader of the Huxville family himself. As Adam waited, his curiosity grew. Who exactly was this mysterious consultant?

By sheer coincidence, Fanmuir happened to have the day off. After returning from the library, he was relaxing in his dormitory.

The moment Adam Alexandero and his companion stepped onto the campus, Fanmuir's heightened senses detected their presence. He immediately recognized the familiar auras, noting that one of them practiced the genuine martial arts of the Huxville family.

When the dormitory manager came to inform him that "someone is here to see you," Fanmuir felt a spark of curiosity. For the first time, a member of the Huxville family had come to find him in the mortal world.

When five or six young men descended the stairs together, Adam found himself unable to determine which one of them was Fanmuir. All of them looked completely ordinary, so much so that Adam couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment. Still, his trust in his brother Andrea ran deep, and he refused to believe that someone appointed as an honorary consultant could be just another regular person. Determined to clarify, Adam prepared to ask who among them was Fanmuir.

But before he could speak, Sackray—impatient as always—jumped the gun. Spotting the group of seemingly unimpressive young men, he immediately dismissed the honorary consultant he had never met. Without hesitation, and in a tone far too brusque, he barked, "Which one of you is Fanmuir?"

Adam Alexandero winced internally as Sackray's sharp tone echoed. This is not good. He knew that honorary consultants were always exceptionally talented and carried a certain pride in their demeanor. While Adam hadn't detected any remarkable traits in the young men standing before him, he wasn't so quick to judge. His mind turned to SSS-tier ability users—those rare individuals who might look utterly unassuming but possessed extraordinary powers. He also reminded himself that an SSS-tier ability's strength wasn't necessarily tied to age. The timing of an ability's awakening and its specific nature played significant roles. For instance, an SSS-tier ice ability was inherently more powerful than a water ability of the same tier. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that Fanmuir was a hidden prodigy with unparalleled SSS-tier powers.

One thing Adam was certain of, though, was that these young men couldn't be martial arts masters. Such strength couldn't be concealed unless one had reached the legendary God-tier martial arts mastery—a level so rare that even Adam's father, Caesar Alexandero, hadn't achieved it. Little did Adam know that Caesar had already ascended to God-tier status, and his brother Andrea had recently joined those ranks—all thanks to this "ordinary" young man before him: Fanmuir.

"Mind your manners, Sackray!" Adam Alexandero quickly reprimanded his loyal but impetuous subordinate. Stepping forward, he addressed the group with calm respect. "May I ask which of you is Mr. Fanmuir?"

Had anyone else shouted at him so rudely, Fanmuir would have merely smiled and brushed it off. But as the highest authority in the Herschel family, seeing his own servants behave with such disregard for manners and discipline struck a nerve. Noble families placed great emphasis on decorum and conduct, and Fanmuir, with a cold expression and an air of arrogance, shot Adam Alexandero a glance and said, "I'm Fanmuir. I don't know you. What do you want?"

Sackray, bristling at Fanmuir's haughty demeanor, was about to lash out when Adam fixed him with a sharp glare and snapped, "Get back to the car!"

Though Sackray was prideful, he deeply feared his leader. With Adam's reprimand, he didn't utter a single word of protest and promptly retreated to the driver's seat of the military vehicle.

Once Sackray had left, Adam turned back to Fanmuir, speaking with calm respect: "I apologize for my subordinate's lack of manners. I hope you can forgive him, Mr. Herschel."

Noticing Adam's composed and deferential attitude, Fanmuir's anger subsided. He smiled faintly, signaling that he didn't take offense.

Adam then produced his identification for the European Special Intelligence Department, speaking in a measured tone: "My name is Adam Alexandero. I'm the head of the French division of the European Special Intelligence Department. I'm here to request your assistance. May we speak further in the car?" With that, Adam tucked the ID away.

Fanmuir, now far from the naïve youth he had once been, was well aware of the existence of secretive organizations in various nations. He also fully understood Andrea's intentions when securing him the honorary consultant status—it was meant to serve as a shield against undue interference from the mundane world. The moment he saw Adam Alexandero's ID, Fanmuir knew that Adam must have encountered a significant problem and had come to seek help from the consultant stationed in Paris. Fanmuir also realized that Adam was likely unaware of his true identity; otherwise, even the boldest of men wouldn't dare disturb the head of the Herschel family over such a minor issue.

Once inside the car, Adam provided a concise explanation of the situation. Upon hearing that the troublemakers were remnants of the German Nazi Party, a deep-seated hatred ignited within Fanmuir. He resolved to put those insolent Nazis in their place.

"Let's go. Take me to their hideout," Fanmuir commanded coldly, gesturing toward Sackray in the driver's seat.