My Substitute CEO Bride (Nash Calicraft) novel Chapter 1222

Chapter 1222 

“Where’s Anderson Jones?” 

Artoile clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke in that unfriendly tone. 

“H-He’s probably in the toilet,” Sicard answered somewhat sheepishly. 

Had Anderson gotten himself into trouble? 

Artoilé scoffed. “Did he go use the toilets at the Empire Hotel?” 

Given everything, Sicard’s title as a general would go to waste if he had not already figured out what was going on. 

Anderson’s previous request to undertake the Empire Hotel had been 

rejected. 

The only reason he was at the Empire Hotel again was probably because he was there to cause trouble. 

Sicard gulped. “W-What’s he doing at the Empire Hotel?” 

“This had better have nothing to do with you. If not, I’ll kill you as well!” 

Artoile huffed before he strode off, his bodyguard following closely. 

Sicard returned to his room, grabbed a jacket, and hurried out as well. 

20 minutes later, over a dozen patrol cars led a dozen trucks that each carried soldiers to park on the main road leading to the Empire 

Hotel. 

The roads were relatively empty today since the Empire Hotel was not 

open for business that day. 

Artoile and Sicard got out of their car, and they immediately caught sight of the soldiers standing outside the hotel. 

Sicard was frantic. 

He should have stuck to his intuition and stopped Anderson from leaving the premises. 

Now that even the Warden knew what was going on, there was no way this would be a friendly exchange. 

Hopefully, Anderson would remember all the kindness he had shown him and not rat him out. 

“What are you all doing there?” 

Artoile’s voice traveled faster than his feet did. 

The soldiers turned to where the source of the sound was, and looks of gloom immediately appeared on their faces when they realized it was the Warden himself. 

Sicard bellowed, “Get in formation!” 

The 2,000 soldiers immediately got in line. 

Artoile walked over, his face devoid of any expression. 

Despite the fact he was already past his 50s, his presence was still a 

stifling one. 

“All of you, return to the Southern Territory for a month’s worth of Dark Mountain Special Training!” 

Artoile swept his gaze across everyone present. 

All of them felt terrible and displayed unpleasant expressions. 

The Dark Mountain Special Training was one of the most horrendous training plans the Warden had ever devised. 

Whenever they entered Dark Mountain, they would, at the very least, 

emerge with a layer of skin removed from their body-and that was if they did not end up dead. 

“Attention!” Sicard suddenly bellowed. 

The soldiers immediately snapped to attention. 

“Right turn! 

“Begin jogging!” 

As the commands left Sicard’s lips, all 2,000 soldiers began jogging. 

Finally, Artoile walked toward the hotel entrance. 

The big bloke standing at the door, Bertram, made way for them. 

Inside the lobby, Nash and the others were sitting on the couches and 

drinking tea. 

Anderson, the second-in-command, and several bodyguards stood 

together silently. 

Both Artoile and Sicard glanced at Anderson’s face which was still 

swollen from the beating he had received. 

Not only did Sicard not plead for justice to be served, but he also shuddered involuntarily. 

“Warden of the Southern Territory…”