Instructor Anthony has lost contact?

Dean furrowed his brow and continued to read.

Following that was information regarding climate changes in the Sahara Desert and an analysis of the disappearance, according to professional analysts.

When Anthony went missing, contact was abruptly cut off. There were no distress signals, nor did any natural disasters like sandstorms occur during this period.

Afterwards, the rescue team from Anthony's family, stationed outside the desert, searched Anthony's group's route multiple times. Their efforts, however, yielded nothing but a well-equipped yet deserted campsite.

Behind these records were also a dozen or so high-definition photos.

Dean picked up a few and examined them carefully.

In the desert, traces are hard to preserve, he thought. But the condition of the camping equipment might still offer some clues.

However, Dean quickly abandoned that line of thought.

Everything in the photos appeared too normal. There was no sign of damage from sandstorms, no indication of a struggle, not even traces of a hasty departure.

Inside the tents were piles of supplies, firearms, and neatly arranged sleeping bags. Outside, arranged in a circle, was a row of barbecue grills and a canvas table laden with rotting fruit.

All these items were thinly covered by a layer of sand. However, judging by the bite marks on some of the food, it appeared as if people had been eating it just moments before.

Beyond that, at the very edge of the camp, were seven or eight uniquely designed vehicles. Some listless-looking camels were tied to them.

Except for the people, everything in the camp was still there! It was as if something had suddenly happened, forcing the group to flee in panic without time to grab their belongings.

But that didn't make logical sense. In the desert, food and water meant life itself. An orderly departure wouldn't leave these things behind. A panicked escape wouldn't leave the campsite looking like this.

It seemed more likely that Anthony's group had been attacked.

The Treasure-Hunting Team, comprising dozens of fully armed and experienced individuals equipped with over a dozen satellite phones, found them to be of no avail. It was as if, in an instant, everyone had lost the ability to resist, and all contact with the base outside the desert was severed.

This situation was truly eerie.

The end of the document also contained several speculations from the School's intelligence personnel:

One: An unknown force, targeting the gold treasure, planted a mole within Anthony's team. They possibly drugged everyone, causing this mysterious disappearance.

(Note: The Morgan Family is investigating this. According to their findings, neither the key nor the map to the treasure was found at the campsite, making this the most likely possibility.)

Two: The guide conspired with locals to carry out an attack. (Unlikely, as most supplies were untouched and the mercenary guards were elite. Still under investigation.)

Three: Influence of natural magnetic fields. (Possible, but extremely unlikely.)

Behind each speculation were annotations in narrowly spaced handwriting with delicate strokes, resembling that of a young woman.

Dean put away the document and looked at Carol. "Were the notes after the speculations written by you?"

Carol nodded. "Mr. Anthony is my only acquaintance here, and I'm very concerned about his situation. That's why I used the School's intelligence system and communicated with the Morgan Family to obtain this information."

Dean nodded. That made sense. Otherwise, if the Kaz School could so easily obtain so much firsthand information, their intelligence system would be terrifying.

Dean lit a cigarette and looked out the window at the scenery whizzing by, lost in thought.

His speculations were similar to Carol's. This incident resembled certain unsolved mysteries: seemingly inconceivable, yet the truth ultimately uncovered often pointed to human intervention.

The World War II Base Anthony was headed for contained a full 120 tons of gold bullion—a treasure that could be exchanged for a fortune of four billion US Dollars anywhere.

What did that actually mean?

Currently, seasoned mercenaries active in Africa earned, on average, between 5,000 to 8,000 US Dollars per month, with some variation for combat missions. Even for long-term contracts, the price wouldn't be excessively high. Factoring in other miscellaneous costs, let's round it up to ten thousand US dollars a month.

Four billion US Dollars could employ forty thousand veterans, providing their own weapons and rations, to fight for an employer for ten months!

So, faced with this kind of wealth, forget individuals—even some countries wouldn't hesitate to act unscrupulously.

The key point was, Dean knew the inside story of this gold treasure. It had originally been delayed by one of Anthony's elders due to a feud with the current family head, pushing its excavation to decades later, to the present day. And each step in collecting the treasure's key and map represented an opportunity for information to be leaked. Many people were probably privy to this process.

The motive was there. The likelihood of an information leak was also there. Dean was almost certain that Anthony's group's strange disappearance was due to a deliberate attack.

So much time had passed. Anthony's fate... it's probably not good.

Thinking of this, Dean turned to Carol. "The international gold flows must be under surveillance by now, right?"

Carol nodded. "The Morgan Family has considerable influence in Europe and is closely connected to many world-class magnates. Currently, black markets in the Americas, Europe, and Asia are all being monitored, and this surveillance is indefinite."

This was actually quite normal. For powerful families capable of setting the rules, money was really just a number.

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