Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

10 Downing Street, London, the Prime Minister's Office.

"Bang!--"

A freshly printed copy of The Guardian was slammed heavily onto the large mahogany desk with a loud thud.

The Iron Lady stood behind her desk, her chest heaving, her face ashen: "Can someone explain to me what's going on here?!"

The Guardian's front page headline featured a striking bold headline: "Those who go against the tide of history will eventually be crushed by it," accompanied by a picture of the Iron Lady's Bruges speech.

It wasn't just The Guardian; her desk was piled with more than a dozen newspapers—The Times, the Financial Times, The Economist, The Guardian, and even Le Monde from France and Der Spiegel from Germany.

These media outlets, which usually hold differing views and undermine each other, seemed to have conspired together today to report on the same topic in unison:

The benefits of European integration.

Single market, free flow of capital, unimpeded movement of people, dissolution of tariff barriers... all these phrases suggest the same point: opposing integration is turning back the clock of history.

It goes without saying who the spearhead is aimed at.

In fact, this media offensive wasn't entirely Golden Harvest's doing. Golden Harvest's media outlets only got started, but unexpectedly, various other media outlets followed suit, ultimately creating such a massive storm.

As for these media outlets that followed suit, their motives varied. Some were simply chasing news headlines and trying to ride the wave of traffic; others were funded by the Iron Lady's political enemies and were happy to see her embarrassed; still others, like the media in France, were simply unhappy with Japan's situation and wanted to kick it when it was down.

In short, the result was that the European media was in an uproar overnight, and the Iron Lady was thrust into the spotlight.

"Your Excellency the Prime Minister..." the secretary carefully chose his words, "This looks like a premeditated smear campaign."

"Do you need to tell me?" The Iron Lady sneered. "Go find out where these reports originated!"

The secretary acknowledged and was about to leave when the Iron Lady called her back: "Also, contact the High Table Group and Golden Harvest Group for me, and have them remove these false reports. Also, ask them what they're really up to."

"Yes."

After the confidential secretary nervously closed the door and left, the Iron Lady stood alone in the center of the empty office, taking several deep breaths before her violently heaving chest finally calmed down.

She then walked to her desk and pressed the intercom: "Have Mrs. M come to see me immediately."

……

A few minutes later, the office door was pushed open, and a woman with gray hair and simple clothes walked in, her eyes carrying a sharpness honed by the years.

"Your Excellency the Prime Minister." Mrs. M stood in front of the desk and nodded slightly.

"Sit down," the Iron Lady gestured to the chair opposite her, getting straight to the point, "How's the investigation I asked you to do?"

"You mean the High Table Group?" Mrs. M sat down. "Currently... there are some difficulties."

"difficulty?"

"We have used every available channel to trace the High Table Group's funding sources and organizational structure," Mrs. M said, "but all the clues ultimately point to the same conclusion—the High Table Group was indeed originally founded by Sophia Lubbers and Lu Chen."

The Iron Lady stared at her for two seconds: "That's it?"

"...That's it."

The Iron Lady leaned back in her chair, staring at the head of MI6, before slowly shaking her head.

"I don't believe it."

Mrs. M did not refute this, because she also felt that the result was absurd.

The Iron Lady sneered: "An illegitimate daughter of the Lubbers family, a poor boy who started from scratch in the slums of Hong Kong Island. No matter how capable they are, they couldn't possibly build such a behemoth out of thin air. There must be a mastermind behind this."

She stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the still gray London: "Since we can't find anything here at the High Table, let's try a different approach—check with Golden Harvest."

Mrs. M slightly raised her eyes: "You mean...?"

"Lu Chen," the Iron Lady turned around, "he was a penniless young man who built his fortune to what it is today in just a few years. He must have received financial support from someone behind the scenes. Investigate him! Investigate his initial capital, his first pot of gold, and then follow the clues to find the rat that has been hiding in the shadows all along."

She looked at Mrs. M, her tone becoming more forceful: "I don't care what methods you use, you must find out the answer for me."

Mrs. M lowered her eyes: "Yes."

"Go ahead." The Iron Lady waved her hand.

Her obsessive desire to uncover the mastermind behind the High Table Group stemmed not only from a desire to safeguard the national security of the Japanese Empire, but also from political considerations. The rift within the Conservative Party was widening, and a sudden storm of public opinion was brewing. She needed new forces to bolster her precarious position as prime minister.

If we can find the mastermind behind the High Table Group, reach an agreement with them, or even control them, then internal party divisions and media attacks will no longer be problems.

Soon, Mrs. M also left respectfully, leaving only the Iron Lady in the office.

She walked back to the window and gazed at the London skyline. The Big Ben clock tower was faintly visible beneath the hazy clouds.

She stood there for a long time, then murmured something under her breath:

"I won't leave, I won't!"

……

Meanwhile, at MI6 headquarters.

After returning to her office, Mrs. M instructed Qian Banni not to let anyone disturb her, then picked up the phone and dialed an internal number.

"Connect to H station."

The encrypted line was finally connected after passing through several intermediaries, and a deep male voice with a slight Latin accent came from the other end: "Mrs. M?"

"Thiago," Mrs. M said, "how's the situation at Station H?"

Thiago Rodriguez, deputy head of MI6's H station (Hong Kong station). He was an intelligence and computer genius personally discovered by Madam M, who originally planned to keep him at London headquarters for intensive training.

Unexpectedly, after the signing of the Joint Declaration in 85, the Western powers' rule in Hong Kong deteriorated rapidly, with the Special Branch and MI6 suffering devastating blows. Left with no other option, Mrs. M sent Thiago, her secret ace, to Hong Kong to clean up the mess.

And Thiago certainly did not disappoint her high expectations. In just two years, he reversed the decline by using tough and ruthless methods and superb intelligence technology. He not only miraculously stabilized the crumbling Hong Kong Island branch, but also sent back invaluable intelligence to headquarters on several occasions.

"Everything is normal," Thiago replied, his tone carrying an almost reverent respect. "The intelligence network on Hong Kong Island is functioning well. What are your orders, Madam?"

"Very good. How's the intelligence gathering about the Golden Harvest Group going?" Mrs. M said. "The higher-ups have given me orders; I need you to get my hands on the Golden Harvest Group's confidential information."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Regarding this..." Thiago carefully chose his words, "there is good news and bad news."

"explain."

"The good news is—Goldwyn, as a leader in the technology industry, has a very high level of informatization. The result of fully embracing computers is that a lot of confidential data is stored directly on servers. Theoretically, anyone who can access their system can get anything they want."

Mrs. M was not pleased by this; she simply waited quietly for what was to come.

"The bad news is..." Thiago lowered his voice, "Jiahe certainly has the resources to back it up. Their servers not only run entirely on an internal network with physical isolation, but their firewall is also at a higher level than our own MI6 system. Conventional methods simply can't get in."

The office fell silent for a moment.

"Can you do it?" Mrs. M asked.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"...Okay," Thiago said slowly, "but I need an internal network interface—someone needs to bring the equipment into Golden Harvest's servers and physically connect it to their network. Also, I've received intelligence that Golden Harvest has close ties to 'The Winery,' Asia's largest underground organization. If we really take action against Golden Harvest, it could very well cause unnecessary trouble. Therefore, I need more resources."

Mrs. M thought for a moment and said, "You have full authority to allocate the resources of the Hong Kong Island branch."

Thiago opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he only nodded: "...Understood. I will definitely give you a satisfactory result, Madam."

"Yes," Mrs. M said, "I'll await your good news."

The phone hangs up.

Mrs. M put down the microphone, leaned back in her chair, and looked out at the gloomy sky.

Thiago, this child, has never disappointed since the day she brought him out of the slums.

She believed that this time would be no different.