Chapter 2739 Slave of Fate

Even if she was resentful and indignant, Mary, who was already in a difficult situation, had no way to gain anything from Jefferson, who said "everything was under control", for her deceased apprentice.

This man was too good at calculating. There was nothing he couldn't calculate for big or small, near or far.

He liked the feeling that everything was under his control. He firmly believed that as an elite, he must have the power to control the fate of others and dominate his own fate. Unfortunately, things really developed according to his plan without any boundaries.

After understanding all this, Mary gave up the idea of ​​continuing to struggle. Now he could still regard her as "one of his own" because she still had value to be used.

When the hidden dangers and troubles she would bring exceeded her value to be used, Mary had no doubt that Jefferson, who looked gentle, would turn every word he had just said into reality. He could not only say it, but also had the ability to do it.

Wandering in the garbage dumps on the streets of New York and sleeping under the bridge?

Sorry, this is the best case scenario. Mary could guess that Jefferson had "worse cases" that he didn't mention.

What kind of people in this world can keep secrets best and most perfectly?

There is only one answer: dead people.

Who among the busy New York citizens and the elite bosses who are obsessed with money and luxury would care about a homeless family of three who died inexplicably in a garbage dump in the corner of an alley? This may not even be published in the newspaper.

You ask why? Of course, it can't even pass the review of Mr. Jefferson. He is just doing this. He can just crumple up your scraps and throw them into the trash can as if they were toilet paper.

This is a true death in an unclear and silent sense, and it is completely wiped out from this world without leaving any trace of struggle.

Guns kill people in wartime, and the power of pens in peacetime is no less.

Just as Mr. Jefferson said, it is also his motto that he has been advocating and trusting since he started his career.

The truth can be manufactured.

Knock, knock, knock——

"Hmm?"

Just as Mary, who had lost all hope, was about to leave and carry out Jefferson's "order", and Jefferson, who had calmed down, was about to change a cup of coffee and pour out the cold coffee that was so cold that it was annoying to use to smoke cigarettes, the door was suddenly knocked quietly by someone outside.

"You shouldn't be followed, right?"

Instead of responding to the knock, Jefferson asked Mary, needing a positive answer to confirm that the plan was still under control.

"No, I checked it. Jill was already asleep before I came to find you. I didn't meet anyone on the way here."

"Very good."

Jefferson, who had returned to his usual confident smile, got a satisfactory answer, and the knocks on the door continued to come with questions.

Knock, knock, knock——

"Editor-in-chief, sorry to bother you so late, are you resting?"

As soon as the voice outside the door spoke, he knew who it was, and Jefferson, who was more relieved, immediately responded.

"Not yet. You're just in time. We're talking about work. Come in."

The person waiting outside the door quietly opened the door and stepped inside after being allowed to do so. The person who appeared in front of Mary and Jefferson was a reporter from the press corps, the kind of reporter who specializes in handling low-level chores that the editor-in-chief doesn't have to assign to assistants.

"Editor-in-chief, this is the bound volume of interviews you requested in the past two days. I worked overtime to sort it out. I hope there's nothing wrong with it."

"Hmm"

Jefferson took the thick stack of documents and flipped through them, sitting on the simple chair. His aura was no less than that of a real big boss.

Even in Jefferson's own opinion, with this success and the connections and relationships he had in his hands, the position of editor-in-chief of the newspaper was already in his pocket. He was tired of the crappy position of deputy editor-in-chief and column editor.

It's time to make my office more spacious and my desk bigger, and get rid of that old man who is clinging to the position of editor-in-chief. Success and fame are just around the corner.

"Not bad, Andrew performed well in this trip to Berlin. He was hardworking, diligent, serious and efficient. I think it's time for Andrew to show himself as a team leader. What do you think, Mary?"

It was at this time that she was teased again. Mary, whose head was already in a mess, saw the young junior named Andrew looking at her expectantly and excitedly, and then saw Jefferson with a smile on his face, looking at her with interest. She had to bite the bullet and blurt out what she had to say.

"Yes, I think so too, editor-in-chief. Andrew has been performing well since he joined the company. I agree with you that we should not bury outstanding young people."

"Very good, then send Jill to be Andrew's assistant. This girl's impetuousness almost made our partners furious. It's time to find someone to train her well. Remember to tell Jill when you go back that this matter is settled."

""

Not only was he threatened and warned, but now even Jill was remembered by Jefferson and put on the "list", and began to use his "direct line" to monitor.

Mary, who had lost all hope, had never regretted choosing the media industry so much. Compared with the dream and justice she had in mind, like Jill now, Mary felt that standing here and saying these words against her conscience for self-protection was a huge joke and the most vicious irony in the world.

But it was too late to regret now. Mary knew that even resigning was a luxury.

The man behind the desk in front of her would not let her go. She knew too much and was a great threat to him no matter when and where.

Mary felt that it was even less likely that Jefferson, a superior with an outrageous desire for control, would let her fate go beyond his control than that he would suddenly find his conscience, change his mind, and decide to give David part of the copyright and authorship rights. It was impossible.

Mary didn't know what to do in the future.

Now I am not living only for myself, but also for my husband who has the same dream and joined the police force to uphold justice. He is like-minded with me and still remembers his original intention. I live for my young children and this small family of three.

There are too many things in this world that I have no power to destroy and cannot give up, which are worth living with and protecting at all costs. However, the man in front of me, who has controlled his own destiny in the passing of time, can easily destroy all this with just a move of his fingers and a phone call.

He is not afraid that he has a handle on him. The weakness of human nature is grasped and used.

The difference lies in whether the direction of use is good or bad. Malashenko and Jefferson are like the front and back of a coin, presenting completely different light and shadow in different ways in the same dimension.

Just when Mary was speechless and choked with a blank mind and didn't know where to go next, Jefferson, who was sitting behind his desk and smiling happily, suddenly noticed an object that Andrew brought in.

"What is that? Why are you running around with this thing? It looks heavy, isn't it tiring?"

"Oh? You mean this?"

Hearing the curious question from the editor-in-chief, Andrew, who was still immersed in the joy of promotion and grinning from ear to ear, remembered that he was holding an object in his hand that he didn't even know what it was.

"I found this at the door of your room. I put it by the door when I came. I thought someone didn't want to disturb you and put it there for you to collect, so I just brought it in for you. Oh, there is also this thing placed together. It's a military license plate. Let me see the name on it. It's David's. Wait, David? Then, then the things in this box are not..."