Chapter 233: The Power Struggle
A Magician's Caution
After confirming that the crystal vial contained demon blood, Luke was slightly relieved. Demon blood is a top-tier magical material, and the blood of a high-level, pure-blooded demon is exceptionally rare. If he put this vial up for sale, the elders of the magical world would undoubtedly fight tooth and nail for it.
Zatanna's eyes darted around, and she said with a cheeky smile, "Luke Shaw, let's talk business."
"No deal. I absolutely won't give you the blood."
"I'll buy it with money."
Luke scoffed. "The money you have isn't even enough for the tip I'd give the waiter."
Saying this, he picked up the book containing numerous black spells and tossed it to her. "Help me check what spells are recorded in there, and if there is a Spiritualist Ritual."
"Spiritualist Ritual?" Zatanna asked, surprised. "Where did you hear about that?"
"Just read the book properly. Don't ask questions you shouldn't."
The girl pouted, opened the magic book, and quickly skimmed through it. Her expression grew serious the more she read, her face tightening with a palpable sense of alarm. After finishing the last page, she immediately threw the book away.
"I strongly advise you to burn that book."
"Why?"
"It's entirely filled with wicked sorcery considered forbidden by the magical community. If it fell into the hands of a dark magician, it would certainly cause a major disaster."
Luke picked up the book and handed it to Adam.
"It's my collection. It belongs only to me; there won't be a second owner. First, tell me: is there a Spiritualist Ritual in the book?"
Zatanna shook her head.
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely. I'm a professional magician."
That statement seemed to trigger a switch. The smile instantly vanished from Luke's face, and his brow furrowed as he lost himself in thought.
Emily asked curiously, "Is the Spiritualist Ritual very important?"
"It's not a question of importance, it's a question of origin. Remember this: don't tell anyone what you've encountered these past few days. It's best to choose to forget. And you never met Jack Harvey."
The two were stunned, their faces full of confusion.
Luke sighed. "The struggle among the high-level officials is not something you should get involved in. In short, choose to forget. Your purpose in coming to the Swamp Forest was tourism. There was no Serpent Spirit Society, no Cobra King, no demon, and no FBI. It was a simple forest outing, understood?"
Emily hesitated. "Isn't the Serpent Spirit Society a cult that worships a demon? Aren't we doing good by eradicating the cult and protecting the forest and people? How does this relate to a political struggle?"
Luke ruffled her hair.
"Some things can't be explained. Don't concern yourselves with this matter anymore. If there are any issues, let me handle them."
The Political Maneuver
Over the next few days, Luke began a whirlwind vacation with the two vastly different beautiful girls.
While their life was pleasant and joyful, the FBI Director's office was shrouded in gloom.
Jack Harvey sat on the sofa, chain-smoking, the ashtray overflowing with butts. On the television in front of him, President Joel Nash was holding a campaign rally. He was winning cheers by exposing secret events the government had hidden from the public over the years. During his speech, he repeatedly stressed the existence of aliens and the "alien threat theory," assuring the public that if he was successfully re-elected, he would do everything possible to protect U.S. security and never compromise with aliens.
That last phrase had practically become Joel Nash's catchphrase, and yet the American people were buying into it. In just one week, his approval ratings had already soared to 40%.
If this continued, he might actually stage a comeback and sit in the Presidential seat for another four years, or even longer.
As his political rival, if Joel Nash successfully won re-election, Jack Harvey, the Director of the FBI, would be the first high-ranking official to be fired.
Thinking of the miserable fate awaiting him after being dismissed, the old man couldn't help but clench his fists, a sharp killing intent flashing in his eyes.
A moment later, footsteps approached outside the door. Attorney General Marshall Warren and Senator Lady Jones appeared in the doorway. Jack Harvey didn't get up to greet them, and neither did they bother to knock or say hello; they sat directly on the sofa.
The television was still broadcasting news about Joel Nash. Marshall was annoyed and simply picked up the remote and turned it off.
Lady Jones tapped the desk with her hand. "Thirty elite FBI agents, and all we got was one useless notebook? This is completely different from what you promised us. You need to give us an explanation."
Jack Harvey took a drag from his cigarette. "What explanation do you want?"
Lady Jones was highly dissatisfied with his attitude, and she spoke with a severe expression.
"Years ago, you told us that Joel Nash had connections to a cult and used supernatural power to influence his opponents, which is why he successfully won the presidency. We trusted you and fully supported you to keep your position as the FBI Director." She paused, then continued,
"Yet, you've investigated for four years and found zero evidence. I seriously suspect you're lying."
"I will only ask one thing today: Does Joel Nash have ties to the cult or not?"
Jack Harvey stubbed out his cigarette and burst into loud laughter, a faint mocking expression on his face. "What, seeing the tide turn against you, you want to defect, kick me out as a scapegoat, and try to appease your opponent?"
Clack clack clack!!!!
"You people are all the same as before, no change whatsoever. But the times are different now. Joel Nash is not a forgiving man. Once he holds onto power, all of you are going to be in trouble."
Lady Jones took a deep breath, fighting back her anger, and yelled, "Answer me! Does Joel Nash have ties to the cult or not?"
"Of course he does."
"The evidence?"
"There is no evidence."
"You..."
Lady Jones was furious. She slammed her hand down on the table and left the office without looking back. Marshall said worriedly,
"Is there really no evidence?"
Jack Harvey lit another cigarette and remained silent.
Seeing this, Marshall's expression immediately darkened. He lit a cigarette himself, took a long drag, and hissed, "At the current rate, the chance of Joel Nash reversing the outcome is extremely high. What's even more troubling is Thompson (the opposing candidate)—he has a physical problem."
Jack Harvey froze. He quickly asked, "What problem?"
Marshall pointed to his head.
"Alzheimer's disease. Early onset."
"Just as I suspected!" Jack Harvey sneered. "The 'accident' from a few years ago has reappeared. Last time, he had three opponents. This time, it's just Thompson. It's far too simple to sabotage him."
"Talking is useless. Evidence is key. You're not the only one who suspects him, but what happened? Four years, and nothing to show for it."
"If he wins re-election this time, he will certainly reorganize the cabinet. When that happens, all of us will be out of a job."
"We don't have much time left."
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