Just as Brandon was wondering what Nicolette might want, she gave him a firm reply. "That won’t be necessary. I’m a soldier, and it’s my duty to protect the people. You don’t have to think about repaying ."
Brandon knew that Nicolette would answer sothing along that line. He thought for a mont before offering another alternative. "I run an artificial intelligence company. Our company has a lot of products. Why don’t you go to our company and pick so?" Nicolette shook her head. "It’s okay. We can’t take things from the people."
Brandon didn’t know how else to persuade her. He guessed that’d be the end of their conversation. Suddenly, his gaze focused on Nicolette’s face. "You’ve got scratches on your face, and they’re bleeding."
"I’m fine." Nicolette wiped her face with the back of her hand casually. "This bit of blood is nothing."
"There’s no woman I know who doesn’t give two hoots to her face. Not to ntion being scratched or bleeding, even a small bump caused by the bite of a mosquito or a few pimples could make a woman nervous and she’d be looking for sothing to relieve them." "It’s not that I don’t care about my face," Nicolette said. "It’s just that there are too many things in my life that are more important than my face. Honestly, whatever happens to my face is relatively trivial."
After a mont of silence, Brandon asked speculatively, "How about the burn on your face? Does it annoy you?"
"Well, I can’t say that I don’t care about it at all." Nicolette raised her hand to touch the burn scar and smiled. "But I did it to myself. Since it was my choice, I don’t regret it."
Brandon was shocked. "Y-You did it to yourself?"
He started imagining so callous scenes in his head. He imagined Nicolette had encountered so tragic or helpless situations when she was younger, where she had no choice but to disfigure herself and fight her way up to beco a major general. Nicolette continued to chat casually. She seed to not find Brandon’s question offensive. "When I was fourteen years old, I burned my face, starved myself, tanned myself, and injected myself with an infectious disease.
"I disguised myself as a sick child living in the mountains, so I could enter a terrorist-controlled village to go undercover."
Brandon was flummoxed.
Nicolette said nonchalantly, "I lived in the village for half a year. The terrorists never suspected my identity and asked to cook, wash their clothes, and pick herbs for them.
"Eventually, I successfully sent out information about the terrorists. It was just that I stayed in the village for a little too long and delayed treatnt. That’s why this burn scar on my face can’t be fully removed.
"I recovered from the infectious disease I injected into my body later on, and the aftereffect was the red marks on my skin."
What Nicolette shared wasn’t a secret. Everyone in the military knew about it.
At this point, she added, "It’s impossible to say that I don’t have any regrets. However, compared to the victory over the terrorists, this sacrifice I made was nothing." Thousands of n and won had lost their lives in wars and battles. Compared to them, Nicolette was considered very lucky.
Brandon’s eyes almost popped out of his socket after hearing the story behind the burn.
After a while, he said, "Wait a minute, but according to the rules, a 14-year-old like you back then shouldn’t be allowed to be a spy in such a dangerous place, right?"
"That’s right. According to the rules, we can’t," Nicolette said. "But I’m from an eminent military family, and all the spies we sent over were caught and killed. Only a sick and feeble little girl could make the terrorists let down their guard. "Too many civilians and soldiers have died under the hands of those terrorists. As long as the terrorists aren’t wiped out, the civilians will suffer. That was why the military made an exception to the rule."
Brandon had always taken pride in his talent to talk about anything and was always confident, but in front of this female major general, he felt very insignificant. Just as he wanted to say sothing, they saw so lights in the distance. Nicolette stood up. "That’s our ride."
Other than Nicolette’s guards, there were also Avery, Jaden, and Alexander. Avery and Jaden expressed their gratitude to Nicolette.
Nicolette smiled. "I’m just doing my job. Don’t ntion it."
Avery prescribed a few pills for Nicolette and Brandon on the spot, and the latter two took the pills before changing into dry clothes in the car. After changing, Avery checked their wounds and bandaged them. Nicolette was a little surprised. "Miss Carter practices dicine?"
Avery chuckled. "Skillful enough for the situation we’re in."
Brandon ca up with an idea when he heard that "Avery, I’m sure you know a lot of good doctors. I wonder if it’s convenient for you to ask around if any doctor could take a look at the burns on General Trevor’s face and the red marks on her skin?
"If it can be treated, I’m willing to pay for everything as a token of appreciation for General Trevor for saving my life."
Nicolette didn’t seem to take Brandon’s words seriously. Perhaps she was certain that her skin problem couldn’t be cured. She didn’t respond.
Avery carefully examined Nicolette’s scar. "Personally, I think it could be cured, but we still need further examination to confirm it. "General Trevor, you can call anyti, and I’ll take you for further examination." Nicolette smiled politely. "Thank you. I’ll think about it."
Seeing that she didn’t seem to take it seriously, Brandon panicked. "General Trevor, one of the doctors Avery knows, is very capable. She’s the famous Dr. Annie. I think you can give it a try. She might be able to fix your scar." Nicolette still smiled. "Okay, I’ll call when I have ti."
Brandon felt that she was being perfunctory and felt a little sad.
After Avery finished bandaging the two of them, everyone got into the car and returned to Wyomarlo City. It was already five in the morning by the ti they got there.
The sky had already turned from black to gray-purple. Even without lights, one could faintly see their surroundings with their bare eyes.
Zayn, who had only slept for two hours, woke up in a daze. When he heard that Brandon and Nicolette had returned, he sat in a wheelchair and made his way toward the command center alone.
Although the battle was over, there were more than a hundred corpses of the terrorists to be gathered, examined, recorded, and secretly transported out.
There were also more than two hundred crew mbers resting, receiving treatnt, or being questioned by the military for the investigation of this incident that shook the world.
In addition, the entire city needed to be carefully searched to prevent any terrorists from stashing weapons and explosives. In short, everyone was very busy.
Zayn didn’t want to beco a burden to anyone. He pushed his wheelchair and tried his best to choose a route with fewer people. As he walked, his ears twitched slightly and his gaze drifted to the grass behind him. ’Is soone following him?’ he wondered.
From the mont he drove out of
Wyomarlo City, that person had followed him for quite a while. He doubted that the other party was a terrorist. Instead, he suspected that the other party was a reporter or a fan who had co here to watch the incident up close.
After all, the news of the battle had already crawled out of the military network. The entire country probably knew about it already. There was still a residential area not far away.
People started coming over to watch the aftermath. It was beyond what the military and the police could manage. Regardless of whether the other party had good intentions or bad intentions, Zayn didn’t like being followed.
After so thought, he supported himself with both his hands on the armrests of the wheelchair and stood up with difficulty. He tried to walk forward but unexpectedly after taking two steps, he staggered and felt to the ground and remained motionless.
A head popped out from behind the bushes and ran over to him with a nervous cry. "Zayn!".
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