Chapter 88: It Seems Novels Are Still Too Conservative

Chapter 88: Chapter 88: It Seems Novels Are Still Too Conservative

Cartel looked at Rian Sinclair’s beautiful face and nearly agreed to depart with her right then and there. But as he calmed down, he noticed that the man he assumed was her boyfriend hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time, completely engrossed in his laptop.

In this kind of situation, the man was either deeply in love with his partner or just a kept man. Cartel carefully observed their surroundings. Although he didn’t spot anything overtly suspicious, his instincts told him to decline the offer to travel together. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he firmly believed in the "sixth sense" that Veridians often spoke of. Even if it seemed like mere superstition, it still made him wary.

Smiling, he shook his head and pulled out his plane ticket, waving it in the air. "I didn’t expect you to hire me as your guide, Miss, so I already bought my ticket. But I’m heading to Meridia too, so you can just contact me when you arrive."

Cartel knew the old Veridian adage—*you don’t strike a smiling face*—and he always kept it in mind.

Rian wasn’t upset by his refusal. She smiled back and replied, "I’ll contact you then."

Hearing her response, Cartel’s tense nerves finally relaxed. He offered a few more compliments before leaving. Looking at Rian, he still couldn’t figure out where that strange sense of unease had come from.

As soon as Cartel disappeared from view, the smile on Rian’s face instantly vanished. Quentin Sinclair handed over a business card. Pinching the card between two fingers, Rian held it up to the light. "What do you think of this guide, Quentin?"

"He likely has a solid understanding of tourist attractions in various countries and has probably hosted many clients," Quentin replied. "As for his ability to read people, he might have been accurate in the past, but there is still room for improvement. Overall, he’s a decent guide."

Listening to his assessment, Rian picked up the coffee on the table and took a sip. "Tell me the truth."

Quentin glanced at her before saying, "He’s an international fraudster, a swindler, and highly likely involved in transnational human trafficking."

Having heard exactly what she suspected, Rian set her coffee down. A self-recommended tour guide was strange enough to begin with, not to mention the way he had looked at her—exactly like someone inspecting merchandise. She had thought he would agree to travel with them to Meridia. It was quite a pity that he had refused.

Rian casually tossed the business card onto the table. "Did you look into him? What’s this scammer’s background?"

When Rian had first handed Quentin the card, he immediately started working on his laptop, naturally digging into Cartel’s identity on the foreign dark web.

"His status as an international tour guide is real, but many of the young, attractive men and women he has hosted have disappeared."

Quentin’s words confirmed Rian’s suspicions. That scammer actually wanted to traffic her?

"Miss, do you need me to..." Quentin trailed off, drawing a finger across his throat.

At Quentin’s gesture, the nearby bodyguards, who had been keeping a close eye on them, immediately snapped to attention. Rian felt that with a single word from her, the guide who had just left would be completely wiped out.

Rian sighed helplessly. "We’re still in Veridia."

Quentin nodded in understanding, and the bodyguards averted their gazes. They all knew the rules: taking action in Veridia was illegal, but things were different overseas.

"It’s time to board, Miss," Quentin said, packing up his laptop.

Using a private jet required coordinating with aviation authorities, confirming both the schedule and the flight path. Private flights generally had to be reported well in advance. Trying to cut in line during peak hours was incredibly difficult—unless one was willing to pay a premium.

Upon boarding, Rian was relieved to see a mix of male and female flight attendants. There were quite a few handsome men among the male crew. After hearing the system’s four notifications, Rian recalled a comment she had once read on a video: "Flight attendants are all gorgeous, regardless of gender!"

However, seeing the female attendants put her completely at ease. Fortunately, the system hadn’t arranged an all-male crew; after all, staring at handsome men for too long would inevitably cause aesthetic fatigue. Seeing that the stewardesses were all exceptionally beautiful, Rian’s mood notably improved.

The jet’s interior was fully equipped with a luxury suite, a professional music hall, a recreation lounge, and surprisingly, a state-of-the-art operating room.

Quentin gave a brief tour of the aircraft’s facilities. Noticing her interest in the operating room, he explained, "The operating room is for unexpected emergencies. We haven’t had time to source living, mobile human organ containers yet, but you can think of them as personal attendants, Miss."

Rian was thoroughly stunned by the latter half of his sentence. She used to be just an ordinary citizen, and Quentin’s words truly encroached upon her blind spot.

Noticing her reaction, Quentin elaborated, "If you were to get into an accident and required an organ transplant, that personal attendant would serve as your organ donor."

"Huh?" Rian was genuinely dumbfounded. Wasn’t that basically carrying a built-in extra life? Was this really how the wealthy played the game?

"These organ donors have a ’warranty period.’ They are replaced with a younger batch every three to five years, and they are compensated with an exceptionally satisfactory payout," Quentin explained.

Listening to his answer, Rian felt that all the novels she had read in the past had been far too conservative.

"This oversight is my fault," Quentin continued. "I will arrange one for you immediately, Miss."

Seeing Quentin pulling out his phone to make the arrangements, Rian hastily stopped him. She truly couldn’t "afford" something like this—she simply couldn’t accept it psychologically. Although Quentin didn’t make the arrangements openly, he secretly sourced many matching organ donors for her behind the scenes, keeping the matter entirely hidden from his Miss.

Rian leaned back on the sofa, wondering how long it would take to reach Seraphis. The flight would take over ten hours. They would land in Seraphis around eight or nine at night Veridia time, but due to the time difference, it would only be four or five in the morning locally.

After lunch, Rian began adjusting to the time difference, syncing her schedule with Meridia’s timezone. By the time they landed in Seraphis, Rian looked a bit drowsy. Forcing herself to sleep had genuinely been uncomfortable.

Stepping out of the suite, she sat on the sofa to clear her mind while the plane taxied down the runway.

The taxiing process was neither particularly long nor short. Eventually, a male flight attendant walked over and said, "Ms. Sinclair, we are ready to disembark."

Rian looked up. It was the handsome Western flight attendant the system had mentioned. Feeling his boss’s gaze, the man’s cheeks flushed slightly red. He had just graduated from an international aviation academy and hadn’t yet faced the harsh realities of job hunting before being scooped up to work as a flight attendant on a private jet. Moreover, the salary they offered was astronomical. The moment he saw the number, he had signed the contract without a second thought, grinning like an absolute buffoon.

After the initial excitement, he met the other attendants—all gorgeous men and women. At the time, he had been a little worried, fearing that the owner of the plane might have some bizarre fetishes. He had contemplated backing out, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to abandon that paycheck. After all, such a salary would be considered mind-blowing at any commercial airline!

However, he completely didn’t expect the boss he met today to be such a breathtakingly beautiful woman! Seeing her captivating, lazy gaze, he couldn’t stop his ears from turning red.

Rian noticed his subtle expressions but didn’t ask any questions. Quentin placed a hat on her head and draped a thin veil over it to obscure her face.

Noticing her confused look, he said softly, "The winds in Meridia can kick up quite a bit of sand. It’s easy to get dust in your eyes when stepping off the plane."