My Husband, the Assassin

Chapter 011

"New guy? Watch your mouth."

The male translator, Owen, looked William up and down with disdain. William's earlier comment—"Why is it a guy?"—had clearly offended him.

I heard there was a new hire. Looks like he's just an arrogant punk, Owen thought, instantly disliking William.

William smiled wryly at the man. Owen wasn't bad-looking—black-framed glasses, side-parted hair, giving off a somewhat dashing, intellectual vibe.

Of course, in William's opinion, Owen was nowhere near as handsome as himself. Not even close.

Plus, Owen was a whole head shorter than William. Heh, I'll be looking down on you literally and metaphorically.

William was smug inside, but he kept his outward demeanor polite. He grinned at Owen. "Sorry, buddy. I was just hoping to see a beauty, that's all."

"Hmph."

Owen scoffed, lifting his chin and looking at William with undisguised contempt. This is the new guy? He looks like a total i***t. A country bumpkin. What kind of logic is that? Does a translator have to be a woman? Stupid. I don't know how people like him get into the company.

William’s grin turned into a slight smirk. He saw the disdain in Owen's eyes—that high-and-mighty attitude reminded him of a prissy little girl.

"Do you speak Farsi?" William asked, his tone slightly provocative. "You must be pretty talented if you do."

"See? That's why people like you have simple minds," Owen retorted, looking down his nose at William (or trying to, given the height difference).

"Negotiating with Iranians doesn't mean we have to speak Farsi. In this day and age, English, German, and maybe Russian are enough! Why make it so complicated?"

Owen sneered. "A bumpkin is a bumpkin. Don't think that expensive suit fools me. It might be pricey, but that style is from last year's collection. You clearly haven't seen much of the world."

"..."

William’s mouth twitched. Is this guy brain-damaged? Or are all the male employees in this group brain-damaged? Why does everyone love calling me a bumpkin?

This guy is definitely world-class at posturing. Let's see how he handles the Iranians later. Speaking of communicating with Iranians... I’m waiting for the show to start.

William was a Super Mercenary.

He had roamed the world for years, and his mercenary unit had been based in the Middle East for a long time. In recent years, due to various conflicts, he had dealt with Iranians more than anyone. For the sake of better disguise and mission execution, he had mastered Farsi long ago.

If they were to compare, William was confident his Farsi was even more fluent than some locals!

Soon, Director Lan finished organizing the documents. She led William and Owen to the Western restaurant where the negotiation was taking place.

South City Western Restaurant, VIP Room

William, Director Lan, and Owen sat opposite three foreign men.

Three middle-aged men. All guys.

William lost all interest immediately.

Sigh. Life without beautiful women is meaningless.

Director Lan, however, was in her element. She conversed fluently with the three men in English, proving herself a tough negotiator. Her aura was strong and professional.

Owen was mostly there as an assistant, checking the documents.

"We need to sign three copies of the contract because this involves a handover with our German partners. It's effectively a tripartite agreement. Director Lan, please take a look..."

The foreigner in the middle, a red-faced man in his fifties, spoke with a heavy accent. His eyes gleamed with the shrewdness of a merchant.

William glanced at him once and made a judgment: Shifty eyes. Shifty heart. This guy is bad news.

Director Lan smiled professionally. "Of course. Since the price is settled, we can sign the contracts right here."

The three foreigners exchanged a few words in Farsi. Director Lan and Owen kept smiling politely, oblivious.

But William heard their whispered conversation clearly. His brow furrowed.

It seems Director Lan and Owen really don't speak Farsi. Lan said this was their first time doing business with Iranians. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come personally.

But does anyone in the Group speak Farsi? They probably didn't expect Iranians to approach them for business.

The three men were careful, speaking very softly. But nothing escaped William's ears.

"Okay, the fish has taken the bait. Reel it in."

"Boss, you call the shots. Once she signs, we only have to pay the deposit for this batch."

"Hehe, it's great that none of them speak our language! We're going to save a fortune!"

William’s eyes turned cold.

He looked at the documents on the table. As expected, there were three versions: Chinese, German, and Farsi.

Owen checked the Chinese and German versions thoroughly. He nodded to Director Lan. "Director Lan, the contracts are fine. You can sign."

Director Lan smiled and picked up her pen. She signed the Chinese version first, then the German one. Finally, she reached for the Farsi contract.

In the split second before her pen touched the paper, William saw the naked greed flash in the eyes of the three foreigners.

And Owen, that i***t, actually turned to give William a provocative look. His eyes seemed to say: See? You're just a useless i***t who can't speak a word. Look at me, the linguistic genius! The top translator of the company! Bumpkin!

William knew exactly what Owen was thinking.

Director Lan was about to sign.

Suddenly, a hand shot out and blocked her pen.

Director Lan froze. She looked up. It was William!

Anger surged in her chest. She opened her mouth to scold him, but stopped when she saw William staring at Owen with a mocking smile.

"What are you doing?" Director Lan frowned.

William chuckled. He tossed the Farsi contract in front of Owen. "Owen, since you're so awesome, why don't you take a good look at this one too?"

"This one?" Owen sneered. "All three contracts have the same content. Just different languages. What's there to look at? Who do you think you are?"

William shook his head internally. These three Iranians are too cunning. Nowadays, what international contract isn't in English? A separate Farsi contract? That's a huge red flag.

William glared at Owen. "How do you know they are the same?"

"Hmph! Isn't it obvious? How would a new bumpkin like you understand how the market works? Contracts are always identical copies!" Owen rolled his eyes at William. "Alright, after signing, we should have a nice meal. As people of class, we shouldn't keep our foreign friends waiting."

"William, just watch quietly from the side. You don't need to speak," Director Lan said, annoyed. She pushed William's hand away, intending to continue signing. She thought he was just causing trouble.

However, she still had some sense of propriety. She glanced at Owen. "Owen, don't be too harsh. William is new and doesn't understand these things. Show some respect."

"Okay, okay. I'll be respectful to the bumpkin," Owen said with a fake smile, clearly patronizing.

"Heh." William’s expression darkened. "Owen, don't jump around in front of me, and stop pretending! Watch closely!"

William lifted his head and stared directly at the red-faced Iranian man.

The man was startled by William's intense gaze. He recovered quickly and asked in English, "Sir, what is the meaning of this?"

Owen smirked. The bumpkin is confused now, isn't he? Doesn't understand Farsi? What an i***t.

Director Lan didn't think William knew any foreign languages, but she was getting angry at his "disruption." She was about to stop him when William spoke.

But he didn't speak Chinese. And he didn't speak English.

He spoke in fluent, flawless Farsi.

"What is the meaning of this? Do you think just because no one here speaks Farsi, you can scam us and get away with it?"

"Th-this..." Owen choked. His jaw dropped.

That was Farsi. Standard, fluent Farsi. Better than anything Owen could have mustered. And it was coming out of the mouth of the "bumpkin" William!

How is this possible?

Director Lan was equally shocked by William's linguistic skills, but she was confused by the content. "William, what are you saying?"

"Don't worry, I'm not complimenting your chest size," William said to her in English, his face serious. "If you don't want the group to suffer a massive loss, listen carefully to what these foreigners have to say."

"You... Fine. But I'm telling you, don't screw this up!" Director Lan hesitated, annoyed by his crude comment but alarmed by his tone.

For some reason, she decided to trust him and let him continue. This contract was worth thirty million dollars! A five-year deal! If it went wrong, the CEO would be furious.

"Sir, I don't know what you are talking about," the three Iranians said in English, looking nervous. They exchanged glances. This guy speaks our language?

They tried to look indignant, but panic flickered in their eyes.

"You don't know?" William switched back to Farsi, his eyes cold and dangerous. "These are two completely different contracts! This Farsi document is the 'real' contract, isn't it? Once signed, the Chinese and German versions become void. And according to this text, for the next five years, you only need to pay a ten million deposit each time to receive twenty million dollars' worth of goods! Your abacus is calculated quite finely!"

"You! You!!"

The three Iranians were speechless with shock. They pointed at William, trembling.

The red-faced man stammered, "You... you actually... you speak our language!"

"What? Exposed?" William looked at the contract header, which read 'Red Paradise Machinery Co., Ltd.' He smirked. "It seems Red Paradise doesn't want to stay in business! I won't waste words. Tell Director Lan exactly what tricks are in this contract. Otherwise, don't blame the Wolf King of the Red Wolf Mercenaries for being ruthless!"

As he said this, a terrifying aura of danger radiated from William.

He grabbed the Farsi contract and slammed it directly into the red-faced Iranian's face.

SMACK.

The paper hit the man's face with a loud, crisp sound. Then, the sheets scattered, fluttering to the floor like confetti.