Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

In any case, until he became strong enough to deter or combat Mossad, it was wiser for him to remain low—like a wretched predator lurking in the shadows.

Mossad's power in the underworld, along with its ruthless methods, was indeed terrifying. But what unsettled him most was the organization's sheer access to abundant resources.

They didn't need to act directly. A mere gesture of support to his enemies could topple everything he had built.

After all, that was how he rose to power in the first place—a nod of approval from them and his adversaries crumbled.

For that reason, he reined in his disdain toward the woman before him. Regardless of his beliefs or opinions, he wasn't foolish enough to provoke her.

Those Mossad bastards were probably itching for an excuse to make an example out of him—to kill the chicken and frighten the monkeys.

He wasn't about to stumble into their trap. If Mossad truly wanted deeper cooperation, they would have sent a man seasoned with age and wisdom.

Sending her was deliberate, a calculated move.

The woman noticed the subtle flicker in his eyes and shook her head inwardly.

She understood their thoughts—she had encountered them repeatedly since she began these negotiations.

Truth be told, she wasn't thrilled with the arrangement either, but the organization had given the directive, and refusal wasn't an option.

Perhaps there were those within her own ranks who sought to trip her up, to sabotage her career and ambitions.

But looking at the opportunity through a different lens, it was indeed rare—a chance to expand her network deeply into the underworld.

"I'll say it again. Offending others too much brings no good. Consider my proposal. It's a win-win," she stated firmly, rising from her seat without waiting for his reply.

She strode out, her subordinates falling in step behind her, expressions hard and vigilant.

As she passed through several rooms and stepped into the next compound, she reflected on her current team—mercenaries hired with Mossad's generous funding.

Given enough time, she was confident she could transform them into her inner circle, loyal only to her.

One already fit that role—Sheemah, codenamed Snake. The two had cooperated multiple times, and Sheemah's capability was undeniable.

Of course, her first impression of Sheemah hadn't been great. She found her unrestrained character distasteful, almost vulgar.

But Sheemah, as if used to such prejudice, merely brushed it off, unfazed by Claudia's initial coldness.

Once they reached the compound, Claudia removed her hijab. Here, there were no terrorists or hostile eyes—only those belonging to her own faction.

The moment her face was unveiled, an air of mature charm flooded the room. The men present instinctively avoided eye contact, more out of respect than discomfort.

Yes, this woman was Claudia—the very target Ling Qingyu had chosen.

Her presence was both captivating and unnerving. A thorny rose, gentle and soft in appearance, yet anyone familiar with her knew better.

Behind that charm was steel, and none who knew her dared to underestimate her.

"Hey, the talk didn't go very well, did it?" Sheemah appeared out of nowhere, teasing with a casual familiarity.

Claudia felt a surge of irritation. Black lines seemed to form on her forehead. They weren't that close, yet somehow, every attempt to build a fence around herself proved utterly powerless against Sheemah's relentless playfulness.

"You don't need to worry about your pay," Claudia replied flatly.

"Of course, why would I? We've had good times in the past," Sheemah shrugged, stretching her limbs as if waking from a long nap.

She wore a simple, masculine style—an unbuttoned shirt over a dark tee, paired with rugged jeans. A dark green scarf wrapped around her neck, ready to shield her from the desert heat if needed.

"Behave properly. The culture here isn't exactly tolerant of us… women," Claudia frowned, her tone carrying a hint of warning.

"Oh, my dear, you're worried about me. How delightful," Sheemah cooed exaggeratedly before wrapping her arms around Claudia in a sudden hug.

She paid no mind to Claudia's stiff resistance and whispered into her ear, "You know, you're just like a Persian cat—one that craves petting and attention."

"Get off!" Claudia snapped, pushing her away with visible annoyance.

Sheemah raised her hands in mock surrender, a smirk spreading across her lips, entirely unapologetic. She had always been itching to tease this guarded cat, testing the edges of Claudia's composure.

Claudia rubbed her temple, feeling a headache coming on. Dealing with this seductress was exhausting.

Same gender or not, even she couldn't ignore the danger of slipping under Sheemah's influence.

Not that she knew much about her personally—forget the gender aspect; the mere fact that Sheemah survived in this world with her lifestyle proved how deadly she truly was.

She never took Sheemah's flirtatious remarks seriously. This shameless woman even had the audacity to claim that their repeated collaborations were solely due to Claudia's beauty.

The gall of a lone wolf.

"Come to think of it, I'm curious why you decided to grow your informants among Country C's government machinery. What makes you so certain they're involved?"

Sheemah pulled Claudia aside into a private room, her expression shifting to something more serious, though her eyes still danced with mischief.

Despite Claudia's frosty demeanor, Sheemah genuinely liked her and, to a degree, envied her career path. At least Claudia hadn't needed to wade through the crooked paths that Sheemah had—suffering and serving men to climb up.

Sheemah's life seemed glamorous on the surface—ample wealth, properties scattered across the world—but she had no freedom.

The truth was, the reason she vented so much was that she saw no hope of breaking those chains. Once she retired, her doom would come.

"Intuition, experience, and some relevant data," Claudia replied curtly, paying no mind to whatever storm brewed in Sheemah's thoughts.

"Huh," Sheemah snorted, clearly unimpressed with the vague response. She sauntered over to the nearest piece of furniture, plopping herself down with her legs crossed.

Claudia turned her gaze away from the woman's deliberately provocative posture and asked, "I don't think that's the real question you have on your mind."

"Well," Sheemah leaned back with a grin, "I just want to sit on that guy's lap and make him call me Mommy." She winked playfully. "Why don't you join in the fun?"

"No one's stopping you," Claudia rolled her eyes. She had expected as much. This woman was never serious.

It was hard to distinguish between Sheemah's nonsense and actual important matters sometimes.

But despite her absurd behavior, Sheemah had never once disappointed during critical moments.

That reliability was the only reason Claudia tolerated her antics so much. Sheemah was probably referring to the Country C men kidnapped earlier.

One of the men was particularly handsome, with sharp physical features that would draw any woman like an addictive scent—especially mature women.

Of course, Claudia understood Sheemah was just kidding around. There was no way that woman would genuinely express her vulnerable side by playing games with the unwilling.

The risks were too high. In Sheemah's opinion, even if she tied him up and left him powerless, she could never expose her vulnerabilities to a stranger, especially someone who held negative favorability toward her.

"So, these short-sighted men want to slice their throats and record it on video?" Sheemah asked, bluntly addressing the very problem that had sparked rifts between different factions.

Claudia nodded hesitantly. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind—would Mossad's cooperation end up creating another monster that would inevitably hurt her nation?

After all, making deals with extremists sounded like a recipe for disaster. But she had her orders, and choice wasn't part of the equation.

In truth, in other regions, some militants displayed ruthless savagery, even toward their own people, all in the name of religion.

Based on their behavior, Claudia found herself wanting to wrap up this mission quickly and transfer to another region—somewhere civilized, where people communicated through dialogue instead of brutality.

Yes, beheading people, blind faith, and chaotic orders were marks of barbarism in her eyes.

Though Country C shouldn't have been a target for hatred, unlike other nations embroiled in military conflict, its cooperation with the local government for the sake of stability—and more pointedly, oil interests—revealed imperialistic ambitions not so different from former colonizers, albeit shrouded under a more subtle guise.

In the eyes of the indoctrinated militants, anyone who touched their resources became their enemy.

The guise of religious control suppressed any logical thought, leaving only blind obedience.

Of course, the leaders knew exactly how to manage their subordinates—by letting them vent their desires.

They could unleash hell on others, but they had to obey without question.

Not only were citizens of Country C targeted, but many other foreign nationals had been kidnapped and ransomed as well.

Some who paid lavishly managed to escape the tragedy; many others succumbed to execution.

Women were thrown away as slaves.

Surely, several superpowers had noticed the militants' growth, but since they hadn't caused enough noise, there was no decisive action.

Instead, they moved strategically to contain the threat—training national soldiers in the militants' regions, funding military equipment upgrades, and sharing intelligence.

The militants, understanding the game, hid well and avoided stepping on reverse scales.

They primarily targeted nationals whose governments couldn't even reach their remote strongholds.

Country C, despite its status as a superpower, was deemed powerless by the militants since it couldn't project its military might to their faraway lands.

Compared to others, Mossad took a different approach—seeking to subdue militants favorable to their cause to undermine neighboring powers.

But who would have expected that their chained pet would one day break free?

….

Claudia's current suspicions were just the beginning of a grim reality she couldn't foresee.

In fact, the ultimate fates of the two women were anything but pleasant.

Their endings were soaked in misery.

After being promoted, Claudia moved to Country P and continued building her network of subordinates.

But in the end, betrayal followed—under Mossad's orders, she was exposed, captured, interrogated, tortured, and humiliated.

In a land where women's rights were nearly non-existent, her punishment was far crueler than the norm.

Sheemah's fate was no different. After losing contact with Claudia and failing to rescue her, she fell into despair.

On a bounty hunting mission, she served as a spy to sell information.

Infiltration was the easy part, but who would have guessed she would never make it out, dying as nothing more than a lab rat?

Miss System didn't expose Ling Qingyu's controversial decision to kidnap the two women, nor did she correct her thoughts.

In fact, she favored Ling Qingyu's choice because it altered the trajectories of fate.

The two women's lives were pulled away from their destined paths by Ling Qingyu's actions.

Although this situation was different from Ling Qingyu's earlier mission of robbing the protagonist's harem members, it was deemed acceptable.