Lyu's broadcast voice echoed in Yang Ming's ear.

"The location of the enemy base entrance has been determined, locking onto the camouflaged building."

"The stealth boat in the aft compartment is ready."

"Boss, the assault plan is not yet complete; we can't enter the base without alerting the enemy."

"Add mental control skills while drafting the plan."

Yang Ming's voice was somewhat eerie and cold.

Lyu in the Thought Space paused for a moment.

She naturally knew that Yang Ming fundamentally disliked using mental control to manipulate ordinary people and seldom used such abilities.

This time, Yang Ming had flexibly removed this bottom line, indicating... the Boss didn't want to hold back on this Central Intelligence Agency's advanced agent training base. She had painstakingly tracked down this base after following hundreds of thousands of New Federation Agents, about to receive a warm greeting from the White Ghost.

"Yes, boss, resetting the assault plan... plan confirmed."

"Transfer command, Lyu, you take over command."

"Understood, please head to the aft compartment, enter the adsorption stealth boat. In half an hour, a cargo ship will pass through the target airspace. That's our only chance to bypass the enemy's planetary defense system and approach the surface."

Yang Ming took a deep breath.

For disguise convenience, he didn't wear the conspicuous White Ghost Suit, just changed into ordinary clothes, put on a baseball cap, and used special equipment to smear a layer of projection camouflage on his face.

"Lyu, monitor their escape route. If any ships attempt to flee, use the Main Cannon to destroy them."

"Understood."

Yang Ming ducked into the assault boat, barely taller than a person, curling his body into a ball to fit into the cramped cockpit.

Half an hour later, a regular cargo ship completed its warp and slowly approached this scenic agricultural planet.

The assault began.

The narrow-bodied assault boat slid silently into the deep space.

...

Charlie Guzman sat quietly in a comfortable, spacious hover-chair, observing the scenery inside and outside the base with a slide of his finger.

He was the Senior Inspector of this Y02 training base, occupying a role that was essentially the third-in-command.

For Charlie, this was simply a perfect job.

No need to fly across the Milky Way like many of his peers who had already 'disappeared,' executing various arduous and dangerous missions;

Nor did he need to flatter his superiors or engage in office politics.

He only needed to monitor various corners of the base daily and occasionally moonlight as a 'values lecturer,' instilling a bit of dark concepts into those vigorous young people, thereby realizing his essential value within the organization.

Charlie loved these courses.

He enjoyed watching the glimmer in the young people's eyes gradually extinguish, seeing their confident smiles turn bitter, yet having to acknowledge the fact they were about to become the government's killing machines.

Each time, he started these courses with the same opening line:

"I suppose all of you know by now what kind of destiny you are about to face. Your presence here indicates you have already personally ended the life of one or more human beings."

"From now on, I hope you will abandon your naive and fragile personal moral compass and submit to the will of the nation and the race."

"You will dirty your bodies in the base. In the upcoming courses, one of them involves the experience of moral degradation; both males and females must forsake so-called shame, compassion, popular emotions, and basic cowardice. Only 60% to 70% of you will complete the two and a half-year course and walk out of this base."

"What? Surprised, aren't you? You think such a dark side could exist in our great Democracy."

"In reality, for a regime to develop smoothly, it must resort to every means. A glamorous exterior is indeed important, but the core inner strength must also be ample, and we are the sharp blade of democracy, hidden in the shadows, stabbing at those truly evil nations to maintain the superior living conditions for the citizens of our country."

"The noble class of the Empire is the aristocracy, and here, you who survive in the future, are the true privileged class."

Charlie was very satisfied with this customary monologue.

Because the information in it was his most sincere warning.

Most agents sent to this base were not voluntary.

The Central Intelligence Agency would lure them here under the guise of selecting special forces with promises of high welfare benefits while maintaining a gender-balanced ratio.

Here, they would learn various professional skills, learn to use all kinds of weapons, and how to pilot small aircraft, along with a series of interesting electives like poisoning, seduction, war psychology, how to manage intelligence outlets, etc.

Charlie glanced at the clock, picked up his coffee cup with delicate fingers, and took a light sip.

An operator in the control room beside him smiled and asked, "Boss, is it about time? Hehe."

"Put away that sleazy look; it's not elegant at all."

"Today is a good day, Boss. We're just not used to seeing the world."

Charlie snorted, then, with his somewhat excessively plump fingers, gently stroked the semicircular touch switch on the chair armrest as if caressing the smooth skin of his lover.

A scene appeared on the projection screen in front of them.

More than a dozen young female agents, stark naked, were currently hung upside down, undergoing anti-interrogation training.

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