Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

Meanwhile, beneath the surface of the ocean, a submarine surged through the depths with remarkable speed, yet its noise signature remained imperceptibly low. It blended seamlessly with the natural hum of marine life, perhaps even quieter, thanks to its cutting-edge technology.

Even if rival vessels drew dangerously close, detection was nearly impossible—unless extreme measures were employed.

Inside the sub, Elena slapped the desk lightly, a spark of joy lighting her eyes after receiving confirmation from Ling Qingyu.

For so long, she had watched with barely contained envy as her sister, Athena, managed nearly all of Mother's operations.

Athena had always been the first, occupying that precious space in Mother's mind, orchestrating logistics, strategizing missions—while Elena remained largely in the shadows.

But now, finally, her turn had come.

Even if the Spirit Fox operatives aboard weren't strictly hers, they were under her command for this mission.

In her eyes, that made them hers. It was her operation, her moment to shine.

Ling Qingyu might not have noticed, but Elena had long yearned for this—action, real and visceral.

The memory of firing the electromagnetic railgun, leveling Country E's hill in a single, earth-shattering shot, still thrilled her circuits.

Her tongue flicked over her lips at the thought, savoring the anticipation.

Yet, her gaze flickered with frustration as she glanced at the ship's knot count. It wasn't fast enough.

She cursed under her breath, almost as if her words alone could coax the engines into greater speeds.

If other submarines could hear her complaints, they would have preferred a suicidal naval ram rather than endure her wrath.

Despite her physical body being synchronized with the main vessel, Elena still longed to finish this mission swiftly and rejoin her mother near Country A's seas.

The window was narrow—she had to complete her objective while Mother was still in midair.

Her humanoid form clenched its fist in a gesture of determination before her attention shifted to the operators resting nearby.

The intercom blared to life, crackling with authority as it summoned the Spirit Fox squad leaders to the briefing room.

Minutes later, a dozen women gathered around the holographic table, their expressions sharp and focused.

Elena stood before them, her presence both commanding and oddly endearing, like a child excited to finally join the adults at the big table.

The hologram flared to life, casting blue and white light across the room. Elena began the briefing, outlining the mission objectives, risks, and the support they could expect.

Though her combat experience was limited, her processing power filled the gaps. She had already formulated a comprehensive battle plan within moments of receiving the order.

The instinct was there—deep, intrinsic—as if combat strategies and military doctrines were embedded in her very code.

From grand strategic moves to the finer tactical details, she felt she could rival any human officer, from seasoned generals to sharp-witted lieutenants.

Yet, she understood the importance of delegation. Spirit Fox was elite—these women knew the battlefield intimately.

Her job was to guide, support, and let them unleash their prowess.

Elena laid out the first line with confidence. "Girls, you already know the mission objectives and all gathered intelligence. I'll be serving as the mission planner. We're conducting a helicopter assault."

The operators exchanged glances, signaling for Elena to continue.

"We'll fly low, just above terrain to mask our helicopters—Virgin 1 and Virgin 2. Multi-role gunship and pure attack gunship. Eight helicopters will be snooping in," she stated clearly.

As she spoke, the holographic display projected the mission parameters, accompanied by a 3D animation of the two Virgin models.

Virgin 1, the first prototype, had been tested by Athena during the scam center cleansing operation. It boasted versatility, capable of handling both assault and limited troop transport.

Virgin 2, on the other hand, had a leaner, more aggressive frame, bristling with weaponry designed purely for attack roles.

Virgin 3 wasn't part of this mission; it was a massive transport variant capable of carrying over 60 personnel—a heavy lifter meant for grand-scale operations.

This mission didn't demand such manpower. Athena had reasoned that deploying Virgin 3 would be overkill, especially since the titan sub currently housed just over seventy Spirit Fox operators.

Virgin 1's multi-role capability would be more than sufficient.

Elena pressed on, her tone sharp and precise.

"Four attack helos and four transports. First, the attack helos will scrub the bugs—anything hostile in sight—to clear the way for the transport element.

After that, the transports will land, and the rest is on you."

The hologram zoomed in, outlining the entry and exit points, synchronized with the sweep patterns of the attack helicopters.

"Take note," Elena continued, "the operation commences at night. We'll exploit the cover of darkness. Intelligence suggests our enemies lack night-vision capabilities, except perhaps a few mercenaries. Their presence is unconfirmed, but we can't dismiss the possibility."

Her eyes swept over the room, pausing for emphasis.

"Remember, we have a one-hour limit—maximum. We want to avoid diplomatic complications and keep our identities concealed. I expect you to rescue the hostages and secure our HVTs within that timeframe.

In the meantime, live intelligence is still gathering information on exact locations. We have some time to prepare, but not much. Let's make it count."

The operators nodded, and one of them spoke up. "Let's start with the assumption that we aren't able to locate our HVTs accurately."

Another operator agreed. "Yes, sisters. Although we can count on Athena for information, it's irresponsible for us to rely entirely on her."

As they discussed, the holographic display projected a detailed 3D map of the area of operation, pulled directly from satellite imagery.

Ling Qingyu's satellite technology excelled in aerial reconnaissance, surpassing any conventional methods. Soon, the operators devised a solid backup plan and even drafted rough contingency plans for scenarios where the HVTs might be located in different spots.

Their strategy covered nearly all conceivable variables before they summarized and agreed to a layout that could answer most potential outcomes.

"Right, Captain Elena?" one of them asked.

"Yes," Elena replied, silently praising the operators for their sharp thinking.

In truth, she had more ideas to supplement their plans but chose to hold back. Both she and Athena had agreed to give the operators space to develop their strategic thinking independently.

They figured their mother wanted the operators to learn to think like leaders.

"Who will fly our helicopters? It seems like none of our pilots are with us," one of the operators asked, frowning.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't think too much about it."

"Me neither. If you hadn't mentioned it, I would've forgotten," another added.

Elena smiled, her expression calm and collected. "You don't need to worry about that. Leave those details to me. We have helicopters and pilots available."

Her cryptic expression caused a few raised eyebrows, but no one pressed further. They knew Elena well enough to understand that she wouldn't reveal anything she wasn't ready to.

Still, guesses circulated among them. Perhaps the aircraft were unmanned, just like the advanced technology they had seen before.

Even though they hadn't yet experienced a Virgin-class flight, the operators couldn't help but feel that the new aircraft would hold some big surprises.

…

Somewhere in Country S, in a deserted field dotted with sparse vegetation and sands, a village lay quietly, far from the traffic and chaos of modern life.

It was surrounded by valleys, with sand dunes and mud-brick buildings reflecting the culture of the desert. Villagers bustled about—some focused on farming, others herding goats, and a few washing clothes by communal wells.

Children played and danced around, their laughter pure and innocent, a warm contrast to the harsh landscape.

If one ignored the presence of armed personnel and technicals with mounted weapons scattered around, the village seemed no different from any other quiet, resilient settlement.

Inside one of the mud-brick buildings, a woman wearing a black hijab stood with her arms folded, listening to the bellowing of an outraged man across the table.

Her green eyes shimmered with mockery, and her lips curled into a sneer. The man slammed his fist on the wooden table, his voice rising with demands and threats.

The woman responded by tapping her fingers lightly on the table, her expression utterly unbothered. Armed guards stood watch on both sides, tense and alert.

Despite the man's aggression, she remained calm, unflinching. The silence stretched until the man finally relented with a sigh, switching to a Middle Kingdom dialect.

"You win," he muttered. "But I hope to see weapons and ammunition to expand my force."

"Granted that you show no signs of being uncooperative, you have my word," she replied smoothly.

"A woman's word means nothing," he scoffed. "They should stay inside the household and serve men. Why steal a man's work?"

The woman's brow shot up, and she chuckled coldly. "Excuse me? What did you just say?" Her voice dropped an octave, laced with icy contempt.

"I suggest you realize that you're asking us—not the other way around. Work with us, and life will be easy. But go against us..." She let the sentence hang in the air, her eyes narrowing.

"You'll regret it."

The man waved his hand dismissively, unbothered by the threat. He knew who he was working with. Each side would take what they wanted.

This woman might be his biggest enemy in the future—or even plan to assassinate him—but for now, it didn't matter.

The legendary organization behind this woman was traitorous and couldn't be trusted. Families that would love and cherish one another at one moment; the next moment, enemies swung their swords mercilessly as if their parents were killed by the other.