Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system-Chapter 707: Nation Interest

Mossad—the most feared intelligence agency of all time, infamous for its brutality, persistence, and ruthless efficiency.

From stealing technologies to assassinating key figures, its intelligence network spanned the globe, reading entire nations like open books.

Officially, it was the national intelligence agency of Country I, responsible for intelligence collection and counter-terrorism, mostly under the guise of covert operations.

But covert held a different meaning for Mossad. For its enemies, it was synonymous with dread. It operated more like a government-sanctioned criminal syndicate—an echo of shadowy work mirrored by other powerful agencies.

Despite boasting the largest personnel count among intelligence agencies, its true core amounted to only a few hundred.

At the foundation stood supervisory intelligence officers—the elite minds orchestrating operations. Under them, a web of field intelligence officers carried out the dirty work or managed crucial projects.

Next in line were assassins or elite special operatives who executed high-priority missions, followed by logistic assistants compiling information and supporting field agents, informants, and hired third parties—mercenaries, bounty hunters, and sleeper cells.

Outside Country I, informants, third parties, and sleeper cells comprised the bulk of Mossad's network.

The logistic assistants, mostly civilians, appeared no different from ordinary public servants, quietly pushing the agency's agenda.

On foreign soil, Mossad rarely risked its own assassins. For the sake of plausible deniability, it outsourced dirty work to third parties.

Only missions where failure was not an option warranted the presence of Mossad's true swords—the assassins.

Even among Mossad's ranks, the elite agents—supervisory officers—rarely met face-to-face with anyone below their station.

Their identities were locked behind codenames and ranks, veiled in secrecy. Each supervisory officer commanded a dozen field intelligence officers, who in turn led operations involving assassins, mercenaries, and informants, bolstered by immense logistical support from their HR departments.

The loss of exterior agents meant little to Mossad. These roles were replaceable—trained and refilled like pieces on a board.

These were the details Ling Qingyu skimmed from the summary of the organization. It was only a rough outline, yet she could already picture the near-impenetrable fortress that shielded the agency's foundation.

Of course, that wasn't her main concern right now. Her attention zeroed in on the personnel list. Two names piqued her interest.

As if straight out of some cheesy spy flick, they were both women—breathtakingly beautiful and impossibly attractive.

From Ling Qingyu's perspective, seductive agents through and through, although their records painted a much bloodier story.

Still, seduction was a natural weapon, always in their toolkit. One of them was a field intelligence officer—likely a trainee or on probation, but Mossad treated all its agents the same.

Success dictated their resources and funding, and the most capable were groomed for the coveted candidate positions that everyone vied for.

Naturally, they understood the stakes—high risks, with a chance of success as slim as lightning striking the same spot twice.

Despite the loud proclamations of meritocracy, the world remained painfully unfair. Connections and recommendations still held weight.

That's why these agents strove to demonstrate their diligence and rack up accomplishments—proof of their worth so that big bosses above could see them.

Ling Qingyu coughed theatrically, wiping the corners of her lips as if to check for drool.

Who could blame her? This was her complete kinks. Damn Mossad… it knew her weaknesses and was openly seduced her to surrender subconsciously.

It wasn't a matter of poor willpower or a lack of focus. Mossad simply employed its greatest assets to win her favor.

Mossad: Excuse me?

Her childhood memories flashed by—those films of stunning agents dancing through bullet storms, bleeding and sweating for their nations.

The romanticized vision of passionate youth still resonated deeply in her heart.

Yang Qingyue, her lover and the police commissioner, was living proof.

Beside Ling Qingyu, Xiao Yue raised an eyebrow at the odd behavior before realization dawned on her, and she curled her lips in disdain.

Stinky Ling Qingyu. This scoundrel couldn't keep her composure in front of beautiful women. Not that Xiao Yue intended to blame her too much—those two agents were indeed scorching hot and irresistibly alluring.

In fact, Xiao Yue was genuinely surprised. Two women who were stunning enough to slightly pale in comparison to the protagonist herself.

Perhaps only the former Ling Qingyu could've matched them in terms of sheer beauty. The current Ling Qingyu, upgarded to a goddess was invincible and her aura of being living as superior therewithal.

Xiao Yue glanced at her reflection on her phone screen, then thought of Tang Ziyi, comparing the two of them with the Mossad operatives. She shook her head in resignation.

No wonder Ling Qingyu was behaving like she was about to lose control, even if she was trying to hide it.

As someone who knew her inside out, Xiao Yue easily picked up on the subtle signs Ling Qingyu was giving off. The slightly awkward cough, the way she kept clearing her throat, the quick glances back at the screen… It all pointed to one undeniable truth.

Gu Yi's persuasion hadn't worked at all—it was the two agents that had clinched the deal. Xiao Yue sighed, half-amused, half-sympathetic, imagining how the national minister would feel if she knew her grand persuasion had been outclassed by two pretty faces.

Sure enough, Ling Qingyu's expression confirmed Xiao Yue's suspicions. Her next words, directed at Athena, sealed it.

"Athena, once you confirm the presence of the hostages, assist the operatives and coordinate with Elena. Elena, stay hidden and close to the objective. Follow Athena's suggestions and don't argue. You two can fight about it later. The mission is to rescue the hostages and capture those two women alive."

Ling Qingyu coughed theatrically and blew an air kiss at Xiao Yue to mask her embarrassment.

"Don't talk," she muttered before Xiao Yue could even open her mouth.

It wasn't about lust. Absolutely not. She would never stoop that low. There were plenty of benefits to capturing them alive.

Not to mention, the Spirit Fox operators had been growing restless after long periods of relative peace. A bit of stimulation—an eruption of gunpowder and adrenaline—would be good for morale.

With Tang Ziyi's talisman and their superb equipment, nothing was likely to go wrong. The mission would be easy.

As for planning, Ling Qingyu had full faith in her girls. Besides, with Elena and Athena supporting Spirit Fox in the operation, they could cover every possible variable.

Endless, accurate simulations combined with her NCOs' thorough discussions ensured that the entire operation wouldn't pose much of a challenge—as long as solid intelligence was in place.

In addition, they would prepare reserves, extraction points, and emergency plans, covering all essential factors to guarantee mission success.

Ling Qingyu withdrew from her thoughts and sifted through the profiles of the two female agents again.

Wouldn't it be nice to hug two femme fatales and recruit them?

Whether they were willing or not wasn't her concern. With her influence and secrets, she was confident they'd never leave.

Offending Mossad? It didn't ring any alarm bells. A trainee officer and a third-party mercenary weren't enough to draw significant attention.

She had no fear. If Mossad dared to stretch their claws to her, she didn't mind exposing the entire network and unearthing all the hidden sleeper cells.

She had the power to topple and destroy a century old institute. Her previous refraining character was to prevent troubles. She abhorred troubles the most.

Besides, Ling Qingyu wasn't particularly interested in Mossad's black ops or its ambitions of weakening neighbors and scavenging wealth in the chaos. These were Mossad's business.

Even if they were committing crimes, Ling Qingyu didn't mind, so long as they weren't ruthless in their treatment of unrelated civilians.

After all, every agency operated with a similar set of morals—or lack thereof. Country C was no different. The MSS bore its own notorious reputation, not without reason.

Even Sister Cai Ning seemed to suffer mentally from the dirty work she had to engage in. That was merely domestic affair, not foreign where the messes got messier.

"Necessary evil"—that's what people called it, a neat little phrase meant to mask their deeds and prop up some fabricated moral principle.

But beneath those grand speeches, the suffering of ordinary people was always ignored.

If every intelligence agency in the world declassified their operations, outrage would be the bare minimum response.

The world wasn't like movies or novels where agents fought heroically for the greater good.

In those patriotic tales, the protagonist might despise spies from rival nations, all while committing the same acts under a different flag and receiving medals for it.

Hypocrisy wrapped in valor.

No, every action was driven by one thing alone: national interest.

A cruel term polished to sound noble. Everything could be sacrificed for it—lives, freedoms, even the truth.

If it came down to it, entire populations could be written off as collateral, justified by the simple phrase: "for the greater good."

In truth, the world might have been more peaceful without their existence—without that constant jockeying for power and influence.

A cleaner world... Could she?