Chapter 185: Dark Blade Security Services
Chapter 185: Dark Blade Security Services
Sunlight slanted through the bright California floor-to-ceiling windows, falling on the new wooden floors of the downtown Los Angeles office building.
The blazing flames of the Mojave and the howling polar night winds seemed completely cut off in another dimension.
The business license for "Dark Blade Security Company" was finally officially approved in the second month after Zack's funeral.
Jack stood in the office on the twenty-second floor, which carried the faint scent of paint and newly furnished office furniture. He wore a pressed black shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the crisscrossed pale scars on his forearms. He reached for the license paper bearing a bright red seal, placing it flat and precisely in the center of the marble backdrop wall behind the reception desk.
A solid frosted glass sign hung at the entrance. On the dark gray matte background, two sharp, powerful characters were engraved: "Dark Blade." Below was a line of precise white text: "Security Consulting · Risk Management."
It was the logo Akira had chosen after drawing over a hundred sketches—a short blade thrusting straight down, with an extremely thin, narrow crack splitting down the center of the blade. At first glance, it looked like scrap iron shattered by violent force, but on closer look, it was a steel knife that had suffered fatal damage and been fitted back together.
Simple, cold, sharp yet restrained, without any excessive decoration.
It was a mirror of all their souls.
From the spacious training area next door came steady, unified boot sounds.
Nolan led the way, with thirty-five tactical squad survivors standing in neat formation. They wore smartly tailored dark blue tactical duty uniforms, each with a cold silver Dark Blade badge pinned to the center of their chests.
From the death cage of the "Golden Age," through the "Hell Week" eliminations at the Mojave base, to the freezing bloodbath deep in the Arctic permafrost... these thirty-five were the flesh-and-blood spirits who had survived by killing their way through hell.
Nolan stood at the front of the first row, his spine straight as a rifle. He took a deep breath, turned to face Jack walking into the training area:
"Captain, Dark Blade First Duty Team, ready."
Jack stopped in front of the formation. His gaze swept calmly over each face before him.
He could call out each person's name, remembered each military ID number, knew what caliber firearms each excelled with, what nightmares they feared, and understood the deepest boundaries of right and wrong they held after breaking free from their chains.
"Your pay will all be set at 1.5 times the highest global security industry standards."
Jack's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady as iron, penetrating the entire training area:
"But there's one rule, and you better remember it in your bones—in my team, if anyone deals drugs, traffics people, kills innocent people randomly, or points their gun at civilians..."
Jack paused, the icy golden light in his eyes flashing briefly:
"I'll clean house personally. No matter what corner of the world you hide in."
Thirty-five pairs of eyes locked onto him, breathing steady, not one backing down, not one avoiding his gaze.
What they needed was never soft comfort, but this iron-hard bottom line and trust.
Jack gave them an almost imperceptible nod, then turned toward the office area.
In the hallway, Sophia was leaning against the wall talking to Arthur on the phone. Seeing Jack approach, she said "talk later" to the other end and promptly ended the call.
"First project is confirmed." Sophia twirled a pen between her fingers, a hint of long-absent relaxation in her eyes. "The Howard Group global core assets and executive team security, three-year exclusive contract."
"Good."
Jack sat down across from her, casually opening the thick contract on the desk.
The terms were extremely favorable, responsibilities clearly defined—obviously top-tier standards that Arthur had personally arranged. Jack raised no objections. He uncapped his pen and steadily signed his name in the final legal representative signature field:
Jack (Jack Cole).
After signing, he looked up toward the vast Los Angeles skyline outside the window.
The setting sun was gilding the outline of this massive city with a warm golden glow. On the main roads below, traffic flowed steadily like a golden river.
Jack reached into his pocket, his fingertips touching the cold spine of the folding military knife.
The dark night had passed, and Dark Blade would guard humanity in the light.