"Lieutenant Colonel, a communication request from the convoy."
"Connect it," Greysham said impatiently.
A refined middle-aged man with brown curly hair appeared on the screen. Upon seeing the lieutenant colonel, dissatisfaction flashed in his eyes, and he spoke bluntly, "Lieutenant Colonel Greysham, we've collaborated many times, but this is the first time encountering such a situation. Please show the Hansa family the sincerity of the Military Department."
The implication was clear: it was both a question and a veiled threat, steeped in deep dissatisfaction.
Greysham cursed silently and said coldly, "I will immediately report it to the Military Department. Please rest assured, the Military Department will safeguard your security at all costs. Now, I hope the fleet under your command can return to order."
The representative of the Hansa family snorted coldly, "I need to see action from you within three minutes, or I will contact your superior directly."
The screen went dark.
