Why it never ends

Chapter 1277 Meeting
Stella also gave a very restrained smile. She breathed a sigh of relief, slowly sat down, and looked somewhat tired.

“Of course,” she said softly. “There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be like this; it was expected all along.”

“The reporters will be here in a couple of hours,” Hester said. “Why don’t we meet them in that talk salon?”

“No, we have to go outside,” Stella said immediately, pausing briefly for a moment. “...to the horse farm.”

……

The following day, the name of the Aschia Supply Chain Security and Processing Technology Association, along with some photos of Hershta on the farm, appeared in many news programs and newspapers.

Even on her way to the North Shore Chamber of Commerce, Hershta heard her name on the radio. The radio host called her the most unorthodox Mercury Needle ever—because what she was doing was so controversial that it sparked a lot of discussion within Mercury Needle itself.

Hesta glanced in the direction of the car radio and memorized the frequency: "This host even investigated the internal reactions to me within AHgAs."

“It’s not exactly a secret,” Stella yawned. “People who work at both your workstation and the local system—like Sire—can easily access internal materials, since many of your documents are publicly available internally.”

“I don’t read those emails anymore; they’re pointless anyway,” Hesta said as he drove. “They’re all clichés; very few people actually point out the risks I might be causing…”

"You'll also receive related emails, what kind of emails?" Stella turned her head. "Are they summaries of the disputes sent to you by your superiors' office?"

“They wouldn’t do something so pointless,” Hester said softly. “My personal email is easily accessible within the organization, and anyone who wants to confront me about this can do so, so I should check my email every day, but—”

"But there are too many people coming to 'confront' you?"

“It has little to do with the number of people. Like I said, it’s all because of clichés,” Hesta explained somewhat helplessly. “There are still some voices within us… very conservative.”

“That’s definitely not necessary,” Stella said, turning her gaze away. “There’s no need to waste time on these things.”

"Ah."

"...Do you need me to manage your email for a while?" Stella suddenly asked.

Hershta was somewhat surprised: "Why?"

“I’ve had similar experiences before. At times like these, it’s good for you to have someone help you filter out some of the noise.” Stella looked at Hester again, this time leaning slightly closer to her. “Are you sure you don’t need it?”

Hester chuckled. "I'll tell you if you need to, okay?"

Stella nodded happily.

The two quickly parked their car in a parking lot near the North Shore Chamber of Commerce.

The North Shore Chamber of Commerce, officially known as the North Shore Energy Facilities Chamber of Commerce, does not actually have its headquarters in Emmanuela; this is merely a dedicated office for them.

Compared to Ernesto's private security industry association, everything here can only be described as austere. It doesn't even have a dedicated building; instead, like many offices, it simply rents a few offices for daily business operations.

Along the way, Hester pondered why the merchant guild was not recognized by Ernesto and the old governor—this was something she should have discussed with Stella earlier, but she hadn't thought of it at all before entering the building.

Hester stood diagonally behind Stella, watching with amusement as the latter once again tensed up. Stella wasn't sighing this time, but her breathing had become very light—almost imperceptible unless one looked closely. Hester watched the elevator ascend, and when only the two of them remained in the car, she finally spoke: "Would you like to find somewhere else to sit for a while?"

Stella was a little confused: "Why do we need to find a place to sit for a while?"

“You can double-check the process with me,” Hesta tapped his temple, “and see if the things you told me about before are still here.”

Stella then realized—Hersta was teasing her about her nervousness again! For the second time!

"Get lost!" Stella glared at Hersta. "Is it really that funny to make fun of me?!"

The elevator doors opened, and Hershta, smiling, ran out first.

Following the signs, the two quickly found the North Shore Chamber of Commerce's office. Although it was working hours, the door was locked and the reception desk behind the glass door was empty.

Stella walked to a window seat and made a phone call. A moment later, a young man appeared and led the two of them through another gray door down the corridor into their office.

"Why is the main gate locked and people not allowed in?" Hesta asked.

"The reporters have been so annoying these past few days," the young man said. "The boss ordered the main gate to be locked, and everyone is using the side door—it must be the same on your end, maybe even busier than us?"

“Fortunately, our farm is in the suburbs, so it’s not easy to get there,” Hersta replied. “Once you’re on the farm, we can treat you like a group of tourists. We’ll first take you on a tour of the coffee fields, then around the horse farm and the palace—and then we’ll take you to our spokesperson.”

"So you don't usually go to the farm? Or do you avoid reporters?"

“Yes, all of them,” Herstad replied with a smile.

"Then you must have a lot to talk about with our leader, she also hates this kind of thing."

As he spoke, the young man stopped in front of an office. Hesta glanced at the floor-to-ceiling glass window on the side facing the corridor. The blinds on the window hung down to about a third of the way off the ground. Unless you crouched down and looked inside, you couldn't see what was going on inside. But from inside the office, you could clearly see every pair of feet passing by in the corridor through this window, which was less than a meter wide.

"President, they've arrived."

Stella followed behind Hester with a very relaxed gait, but her gaze had already spread out like a fishing net toward the person behind the desk—the person stopped writing, looked up, frowned, stood up, and reached out his hand to Hester.

She was also a very young woman, looking about the same age as Herstal, but she was very short, even shorter than Sire, which was not common in District 12, especially in the eastern part of the city.

“Hello,” she said softly, her expression revealing undisguised distrust. “De Montero.”

Hersta.

The two clasped hands.

“We shouldn’t be meeting at this time,” the woman said. “What brings you here?”

“Let me explain an unexpected situation,” Hersta said with a smile. “We have no intention of competing—Askia can’t handle this exhibition.”