This navy can deal with him, how dare he kill White Beard!

"The tea is ready, would you like a cup?"

Morgans said with a humble and aristocratic smile on his face.

Ron didn't refuse, pulled down his hood, and sat down.

"You don't seem to be curious about my arrival."

He raised his head and looked at the "Birdman" in front of him seriously, and said calmly.

"No, no, Mr. Ron, as a journalist, it is my mission to remain curious." Morgans smiled gracefully, picked up the teapot and poured two cups of tea.

Feather gently pressed the cup holder and pushed it forward.

"Green tea from the Midsummer Islands in the South China Sea can relieve fatigue."

He didn't seem to see the injuries on Ron's body, and he directly ignored the latter's dusty attire.

Ron couldn't help but sigh in his heart.

This guy who holds the world's largest private news organization in his hands, and secretly a well-known intelligence tycoon in the underground world, is really remarkable.

Among other things, just this style of dealing with people, as well as the temperament and demeanor of an elegant nobleman who has been passed down for generations, are not comparable to ordinary people.

Ron took the teacup, picked up the cup holder with both hands, handed it to his mouth and took a sip.

A burst of fragrant sweetness flowed between the lips and teeth immediately, refreshing.

He casually praised:

"It is indeed a very good tea."

Morgans smiled lightly,

"Actually, this tea is produced in the Chambord Islands, and it is the most common green tea on the market."

"It's just that I added a little sugar."

Ron:  …

He suddenly had the urge to hit someone.

Morgans took a sip from his teacup and narrowed his eyes:

"Mr. Ron, you saved the life of my troublesome niece in the defense of Marin Vandor not long ago, so don't worry, no matter what you want me to do when you come here this time, as long as I can do it within my ability Within the scope, I will promise you."

"But before that, let me tell you frankly...I'm really curious, to tell you the truth."

"This kind of curiosity is not due to the characteristics of journalists, but my own pure curiosity."

"But I'm not curious about the reason why you appear here, but another question... You seem to have a very indifferent, even casual attitude towards death."

"I'm not a big man, just a small journalist. Maybe I've done some insignificant things over the years. Whether it's luck or hard work, I've reported a lot of shocking things that can be said to be recorded in the annals of history. incident, but at the end of the day, I don’t think I’m a big deal.”

"As humble as I am, during this short journey, I have also seen many real big men, or the existence of heroes called heroes in epics, but I have seen from you what many people don't have. manner."

"An attitude that most people would consider "stupid" in a general sense."

Ron chewed on the meaning of Morgans' voice silently, and realized what he meant after a while, and said with a dumb smile:

"You mean...I'm a tough guy, so I'm not afraid of death?"

Morgans nodded.

"Well, although the words are very vulgar, it can be understood in this way."

"In my opinion, no matter in terms of profit or other aspects, there is no need for you to... die."

After saying the last two words, he said apologetically:

"Sorry, as a journalist, I must use the most careful and professional words."

Ron's mouth twitched.

You might as well not add it.

He said helplessly, "So Mr. Morgans, do you think I will definitely die?"

Morgans didn't answer immediately, but just took out a phone bug from his pocket and turned on the projection.

A picture was suddenly projected from the video phone bug and fell on the desktop under the shade of the tree.

Marine Headquarters Marine Vando,

piles of dead bodies,

The monstrous black sword glow,

An unruly figure with two swords in his hand was flanked by two very familiar figures of Ron, interspersed in the densely packed naval army at an astonishing speed, killing crazily.

……

In less than half a minute, Ron unknowingly saw a layer of cold sweat seep out of his back.

pat!

Morgans turned off the phone bug projection, and said calmly:

"20 years ago, I was in Marlin Vanduo, and I saw with my own eyes... the golden lion that was close to its heyday."

He raised his head, stared at Ron closely with a dignified and questioning look, and said in a deep voice:

"Although the strength of the Golden Lion 20 years later is not as good as before, although the current Golden Lion has been seriously injured, although his physical strength has been weakened due to old age..."

"But with all due respect, judging by the experience and vision I have accumulated over the years...Mr. Ron, your profession is indeed dying."

"So, I'm really curious..."

He said word by word:

"why?"

The moment these words fell, Morgans' eyes suddenly became extremely sharp, making Ron feel like he was sitting on pins and needles, and the hairs all over his body stood on end uncontrollably.

The guy's eyes in front of him were like two extremely sharp swords, falling on Ron's body like a light on his back, as if all the thoughts and thoughts in his heart had been completely seen through!

Ron's body subconsciously tensed up.

Like an enemy.

The courtyard suddenly fell silent.

The world is peaceful at this time.

The warm sun shines down from the sky, passing through the shade of plane trees, casting spots of light on the coffee table and the ground.

The breeze blows the fallen leaves, and the boiling tea emits billowing green smoke.

The boss of the world's largest news agency sat there, staring at the travel-stained, blood-smelling navy boy with deep, mysterious eyes, as if he was waiting for something, looking forward to some answer.

suddenly--

The phone bug next to him suddenly rang, interrupting Morgans' questioning.

"Blublu..."

Morgans' wait was interrupted by the urgent call of a phone bug.

He glanced at the phone bug's signal, his expression froze slightly, and then, as if accepting his powerless fate, he slowly picked up the phone bug and connected to the signal.

Then Ron saw a scene he would never forget—

The elegant, aristocratic, and well-mannered president of the World Economic News, Morgans, suddenly had a flattering, almost flattering smile on his face, and cautiously said to the phone:

"My precious little Nightingale... have you finally remembered your Uncle Morgans?"

Ron instantly felt as if something was broken in his heart, and his forehead was covered with black lines.

"How is it, little Nightingale, how are you doing in Marlin Vandor recently? Martial law is in place over there... If you can't, uncle, talk to that old bastard from the Warring States period, and send a warship to take you away?"

Morgans said with a cheerful smile, his old face turned red, as if he had changed into a different person.

Ron stared dumbfounded at the scene in front of him.

He suddenly realized an unbelievable fact:

The sharp-eyed, unfathomable birdman in front of him...is actually a daughter, no, a niece slave?

The image... collapsed all of a sudden.

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There will be more updates at night, please support everyone.

Chapter 143 Living in silence is no different from death

Ron is still messing around in the wind, and a voice like a lark comes from the phone bug:

"Hmph! Uncle Morgans, you are too bad, and you want to find a way to get me out of Marlin Fandor?"

"I've said it all, I'll go wherever Mr. Ron is! I'm going to have an exclusive interview with him!!"

The delicate voice came out, and the young girl who bravely recorded the war scenes in the bloody and artillery-fired night reappeared in Ron's mind.

Upon hearing this, Morgans glanced suspiciously at Ron next to him, and suddenly said:

"Ah, yes, yes, little Nightingale, you are right, if you want to stay in Marin Fand, you can continue to stay in Marin Fand."

"But the navy named Ron, you should keep a certain distance from him."

"Based on my years of experience as a journalist, he will not live long."

The corner of Ron's mouth twitched, as if ten thousand muddy horses galloped past in his heart.

Unexpectedly, at this time, Nightingale's extremely angry voice came from the phone bug:

"Uncle Morgans, if you say that about Mr. Ron again, I will really be angry with you!"

"He is the hero who saved Marin Vandor, and he is also the hero who saved me!"

"How could he die!?"

Listening to the tone of his precious niece, Morgans subconsciously felt a little bad.