Enforcer Manual
Chapter 691 - 690: I, Hog, am not a clown!_1

Chapter 691: Chapter 690: I, Hog, am not a clown!_1

Clown.

In the past few months, these two words had stalked Hog Foster like a shadow. With the relentless promotion by the media led by the Ragus Foundation, an Innovator Faction, the reputation of the Foster Family had suffered an unprecedented assault. What’s more, the misguided decision that led to the demise of Six Stars rescuer Wild Bone had caused his Conservative Faction colleagues to also harbor criticism against him.

Even his standing within the family had become shaky, as the younger generation believed he had tarnished the Foster family’s honor. At various occasions, they subtly expressed their wish for him to voluntarily retire, rather than let the situation deteriorate into an embarrassing spectacle.

The recent downfall of the Iris Consortium only intensified Hog’s anxiety.

He felt it was necessary to emphasize one thing to everyone—he, Hog Foster, was not a clown!

That was all a tactic of vilification by the rival faction, and the fuse that had driven them into this descent was that exceedingly detestable "concerned citizen."

Hog Foster’s loathing for the "concerned citizen" even surpassed that for the Innovator Faction, which opposed him at every turn. All the failures they had encountered over the past few months were directly or indirectly associated with the "concerned citizen."

The main reason he had been reluctant to retire was due to a strong premonition that once he lost his power, everything that happened with the "concerned citizen" in the Seventeenth Region would remain an eternal mystery. It was very likely that he would never know the true face of the Foster family’s enemies until his dying day.

The family was also greatly divided over this matter.

Many thought he was delusional. Amidst the potential for a complete outbreak of war between the Conservative and Innovator Factions at any moment, they did not wish to provoke a dangerous element. On this issue, the Chairperson of the Council seemed to adopt a policy of keeping the peace—whenever he wanted to use the power of the Review Meeting to investigate the "concerned citizen," he would face opposition from both the Innovator Faction and the Chairperson of the Council.

But now, the Chairperson was dead.

The Secretary-General had also been assassinated in his own office, his death identical to that of Chai Ke, Dominas, and the spies he had planted—an undoubtedly important clue pointing to the assassin.

"Mr. Hog, please come in."

He didn’t know for how long he had waited in the grand lounge, until the outside had fallen completely silent, when this sweet-faced secretary finally came in to inform him.

Hog subconsciously glanced at his watch.

23:49.

For the people of The First Region, it was far from time to rest; working overtime was a norm in their lives.

"Jock."

As soon as he entered, he showed tremendous enthusiasm towards this old friend of his, who was one of the few friends he had left. This man known as Jock.

Like always, Hog opened his arms warmly for his dear brother, but this time, despite Jock’s smiling face, he discreetly extended his right hand to refuse the embrace, opting for a polite handshake instead.

This made the atmosphere in the office somewhat awkward for a moment. Hog Foster, as if sensing something, also switched to a handshake, and his genuinely warm smile swiftly changed into a fake one as he said, "Congratulations on becoming a member of the High-level Parliament."

"Let’s cut to the chase, why did you come to see me so late?"

"I saw the news about the Secretary-General’s murder at home, and I felt deeply saddened."

"The Secretary-General was a capable person; we never expected to lose him at this time."

"But, those of us who are still alive must carry on his will and move forward... I’ve reviewed the High-level Parliament’s charter, and according to the rules, I need three people to sponsor me. Jock, we’ve known each other for many years, you should know my abilities."

Becoming a member of the High-level Parliament would be the beginning of his turnaround.

Hog had completely sobered up on the plane as he imagined stepping into the vacancy left by the Secretary-General, using the clues in his possession to lead the High-level Parliament step by step to identify the real culprit behind the Secretary-General’s assassination—in the United Government, that was an unforgivable capital offense.

Thus, not only would he avenge the injustice served in the Seventeenth Region, but he would also demonstrate ample strength at the onset of his tenure in the High-level Parliament.

And now, his premonition was strong.

Only three sponsorship slots were remaining between him, Hog Foster, and his comeback.

His dear brother Jock would surely lend a hand at this critical moment...

"Hog, about this matter..."

However, to Hog’s surprise, his dear brother Jock showed a sign of difficulty with this simple favor and said, "Hog, I don’t think you’re in a state to handle the intense work of the High-level Parliament. You’ve worked hard for most of your life, it’s time for you to rest."

"Rest... Rest!?"

Hog had never anticipated his dear brother would make such a suggestion, and he momentarily found himself at a loss for words.

What was the difference between this and getting slapped in the face on the street and acting as if nothing had happened?

If he could swallow this affront, then not just the scum from the Ragus Foundation, but even his peers from other families would likely look down on him.

"Jock, you know how they’ve maligned me in the past few months!"

Hog said sternly.

"I know, but you have to realize the issue with Wild Bone has caused many to speak ill of you."

"To hell with them, a bunch of cowards. I just need three sponsorships, and then I can easily get into the High-level Parliament. Jock, all you have to do is nod, I’ll figure out the other two sponsors myself!"

"Sorry, I can’t help you."

The explicit refusal made Hog stare in astonishment, frozen in place for several seconds. Only then did he notice that after the polite handshake, Jock had silently moved behind his office desk, making the conversation seem like a discussion about official matters.

It had been a long-awaited meeting, yet Jock no longer immediately abandoned his work to warmly invite him for a drink, where they would chat late into the night.

Right now, he desperately needed that comfort from friends on a spiritual level, to help him through this unprecedented low point in his life.

But at this moment, he was no longer sure if the person in front of him, whom he had known for decades, could still be called a friend.

The two men simply looked at each other until, after a dozen seconds, Hog suddenly burst into laughter, "Jock, you must be joking with me. I admit, you almost had me there. Bring out the recommendation spot, it’s been so long, I’ll buy you a drink."

In his imagination, Jock should have shared an unspoken understanding, laughing heartily with him, and then, just like old times, they would sit down somewhere, throwing all unpleasantness and repression behind them.

But this time, Jock did not laugh.

He was completely indifferent, with not even a pretense of a fake smile on his face, watching silently as Hog’s laughter gradually stiffened and ultimately transformed into an even more suffocating silence.

Fool.

That word surfaced in Hog’s mind once again.

And compared to the slander from rival factions, it was the rejection from an old friend that truly chilled his heart.

It felt as if an invisible sharp knife had been thrust into his heart.

Jock’s tone was as indifferent as ever; in fact, except for the initial insincere smile, he had maintained a cold demeanor toward Hog, "Hog, with your current state, you are not fit for the intensive work of the High-level Parliament."

"Jock, are you serious?"

The stab in the back from a friend almost left Hog breathless. According to his plan on the plane, he should now be sitting in a quiet place with Jock, bringing out the intelligence on the "warm-hearted citizen" for him to peruse.

"Hog, I have another meeting coming up, I won’t keep you any longer."

Jock’s response not only proved that he was serious, but also subtly conveyed that he did not want to waste his time on Hog.

"Jock... Councilman Jock."

Hog stared at Jock, who had returned to sitting at his office desk, focusing his gaze on the computer screen, treating Hog as if he were invisible.

"You will regret this."

Apart from that phrase, Hog suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

What bewildered him even more was that if even Jock refused him, then the remaining recommendation spots were even more out of reach.

However, Jock didn’t seem to take his words to heart at all. He didn’t even glance at Hog again, who clenched his teeth and walked out of Jock’s office with unsteady steps. It was as if the alcohol’s side effects hit him at that moment, the orderly environment of the office suddenly made Hog feel anxious, making him want to leave as quickly as possible.

His ears began to ring, and the operation of his thoughts slowed due to the effects of the ringing.

Three recommendation spots,

The other two colleagues he needed to visit,

And the revenge on the "warm-hearted citizen."

All of the plans he had on the plane were thrown to the back of his mind at this moment. Right now, there was only one thing on his mind.

He needed alcohol, a lot of alcohol.

A dose sufficient to forget everything, to help him through this low point in life.

It might have been an illusion, but through his blurry vision, Hog seemed to see a smartly dressed young man passing by him.

Introduced by the secretary, the young man walked confidently into Jock’s office, and in that moment of passing by, Hog unexpectedly noticed that this sharply dressed young man looked exactly like the image of the "warm-hearted citizen" he had conjured in his mind.

Hog instinctively looked back, but he could only see the man’s retreating figure, soon blocked by the door closing to the office.

The jovial atmosphere inside the office could be felt even through the door.

Hog faintly heard words like "High-level Parliament" and "recommendation spot", and for a moment, he thought of storming inside to confront Jock or to curse him out.

But then, he realized what he needed even more at that moment.

It was not far away; he just had to take the elevator down to The First Region and then walk less than five hundred meters.

There was a bar there, one he and Jock used to frequent.

Hog quickened his steps, fleeing the place that left him feeling uneasy.

He hoped the bar was still open.

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