Garrison was wearing nothing but a bath towel. Droplets of water still clung to his hair, and his skin had the post-shower glow of someone who had just scrubbed hard.

  Seeing Antonio enter the room, he felt a bit self-conscious and rubbed his beer belly.

  "Commander... I'm... not very handsome... and a bit fat..."

  Looking at him, it was clear he had mentally prepared himself to sacrifice his virtue just to keep his position as Head of Intelligence.

  Antonio stared at him intentionally.

  "Not handsome" was an understatement. The man had a round, chubby face, and at thirty-two, his belly looked almost like he was pregnant. Usually, his military uniform camouflaged it, but now, stripped down, it was all on display.

  This guy really thought he could offer himself to Antonio? Antonio thought to himself: Based on looks alone, I’d be getting a terrible deal.

  However, he kept his thoughts to himself, sat on the bed, and waited for Garrison to explain.

  "Talk!"

  "Ah?"

  Garrison only then realized he actually needed to explain. He thought all he had to do was offer his body to keep his job.

  But he had rehearsed his explanation several times in his head, and it came out easily.

  "Commander, Jax was the operator who first received the intel. He took it upon himself to report to Bernardo. It really wasn't my doing... uh, I mean, it was my fault for not managing him better."

  "And then?"

  "And then..." Garrison didn't expect Antonio to ask "and then," but since he was supposed to be explaining, he continued. "Commander, if you forgive me just this once, I'll keep them on a tight leash from now on. They will only report to you and you alone."

  "Humph! And if Bernardo made the same demand, you’d probably make him the same promise, wouldn't you?"

  Garrison’s eyes lit up. As the Head of Intelligence, his ability to analyze details was sharp, and he immediately understood Antonio’s goal.

  Antonio was working with Ricardo to weaken Bernardo’s power. Considering Bernardo was mobilizing troops to attack the opposite shore while the President had just announced the "Three Noes" principle...

  It was crystal clear.

  Antonio—Ricardo—President: that was one camp.

  Bernardo, the big rancher Gustavo, the arms dealer Vadim, and the mine owners—the pro-war and anti-reformists—were the other camp.

  Antonio hadn't called him to the room to take his body. He was using the "gay affair" as a cover to give Garrison a chance.

  The consequences of picking the wrong side in politics were devastating.

  To think he had been stupid enough to wash himself clean and wait for Antonio to "use" him. Ptui, ptui, ptui!

  Who would win?

  Garrison’s mind raced.

  The two sides had been fighting for ten years. They were exhausted. That was the trend. If the war continued, people would starve in massive numbers and rebel.

  He would bet on Antonio.

  Antonio watched with a faint smile as the man stood there thinking so hard his towel was about to slip off. He reminded him:

  "Careful now, don't end up streaking."

  "Commander!" Garrison stamped his foot hard. His left hand clutched the towel while his right snapped into a military salute. "I know how to explain now."

  "Oh? Tell me!"

  "The trend toward peace between both sides of the Sangreza River is now set. The next step should be benefiting the people through peace and trade negotiations. Bernardo, the National Defense Daily, the rancher Gustavo, and the arms dealer Vadim... they are all pro-war."

  "I, Garrison, am willing to stand unconditionally with the peace faction."

  Sharp. Ricardo had said they should give Garrison a chance, and it seemed they were right to do so.

  Antonio nodded with satisfaction.

  Then, Garrison laid it all out: the internal structure of the intelligence department, everyone's personality, and their factional loyalties. He even pointed out the moles Bernardo had planted around Antonio.

  Garrison even designed a "cleanup" plan on the spot.

  Antonio, sipping water while listening, replied, "Fine, do as you said!"

  Hearing this, Garrison finally let out a huge sigh of relief. His position was safe.

  More importantly, he had finally picked a side and knew which way the wind was blowing. One couldn't stay a mere Intelligence Head forever, right?

  "Yes, Commander!" Garrison saluted again. Then, he leaned over and whispered:

  "Commander... do you still want to sleep with me?"

  "Pfft!" Antonio spat out a mouthful of water.

  "You have to sleep with me!" Garrison said with certainty. "If you don't, Bernardo will think you don't like men, and you'll lose his trust. It's not good to alert that old man so early. Come on, Commander, I'll handle the screaming, you handle shaking the bed."

  Antonio: "..."

  Soon, Dante, standing outside the door, heard a sound like a pig being slaughtered coming from the room, accompanied by the violent creaking of the iron bed.

  This was the officers' quarters. Several officers walking through the hallway heard the horrific sounds.

  "Dante, what is your Commander doing?"

  "Is he raping a man in there?"

  Dante: "..."

  Finally, after about half an hour, the "act" was over.

  Antonio, still in his uniform, lay on the bed pressed against the corner wall, but even then, he couldn't make enough space for Garrison to lie down.

  "There's still over an hour left. Aren't you going to lie down for a bit?"

  Garrison shook his head.

  This was a double-decker iron bunk bed made specifically for soldier barracks. They had just spent half an hour shaking it together.

  Garrison suspected that if a 150-pound man lay back down on it, the bed would collapse instantly.

  He preferred to sit on the wooden chair in front of the Commander's desk.

  What was an hour or so? For someone from an intelligence analysis background like him, he could sit still for ten hours if needed.

  Garrison was currently wearing only a pair of large boxers.

  He began to put his clothes on piece by piece, and that's when he noticed the chestnut cakes on Antonio’s desk.

  Garrison was from east of the river. He had only eaten these a couple of times as a child, mainly because they were too expensive.

  Now, he was starving.

  Seeing that Antonio had closed his eyes, he didn't ask further and grabbed five or six chestnut cakes to munch on.

  As Antonio began to snore lightly, Garrison was already thinking about how to quickly take down that old fossil Bernardo. To win, you had to win fast; the longer it dragged on, the higher the risk.

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  After an hour and a half, Antonio's internal clock woke him up right on time for the end of his nap.

  Garrison hadn't disturbed his sleep; he was a polite Colonel.

  As the two prepared to leave together, Antonio, walking behind, noticed a very obvious bloodstain on the seat of Garrison’s trousers.

  "You... there's blood there..."

  "Commander, I faked it by pricking my finger!" Garrison showed the needle marks on his left index finger.

  "That's brutal! A real dedicated performance," Antonio shook his head with a bitter smile.

  As they walked out, Garrison limped toward his office. Dante saw the blood on Garrison’s backside, but his face remained calm. He was beginning to understand Antonio more and more.

  When Antonio returned to his office, he saw a copy of the latest special edition of the National Defense Daily on his desk.

  "EXTRA: ABANDONING TERRITORY IS A BETRAYAL OF THE NATION'S PEOPLE!"

  The entire special edition was about how to launch a counter-offensive and glorifying war. Antonio was furious, but his face remained expressionless as he read every single word.

  He took a red pen and noted down every person, organization, and major corporation involved in his notebook.

  Army First District Commander: Bernardo

  Air Force Commander: Falcon

  Big Rancher: Gustavo

  Arms Dealer: Vadim

  At that moment, Antonio suddenly thought of a woman who dealt with all these people: Vivienne.

  He didn't know if he should put Vivienne on this list.

  Thinking of Vivienne led him to think of Leo, and then Bruno.

  Vivienne had also just finished an exquisite lunch with Fabian and was now driving toward Amber Street.

  After getting out of the car, she kept her arm linked with Fabian’s, walking into the church charity organization as if they were just taking a stroll.

  This place functioned as a church, but its primary role was collecting donations from the wealthy district to help the poor.

  The nun, Evangeline, was bowing her head by the window in the hall, counting hundreds of bags of grain. She was only 21 years old, but because the war had interrupted her university entrance exams, she had already been working for the church for four full years.

  The afternoon sun shone through the window onto her lowered hair. The Tyndall effect of the light beams made her look as if she were radiating a holy glow.

  Seeing Vivienne arrive, Evangeline stopped her work and looked up.

  "Good afternoon, Madame Vivienne."

  Vivienne’s response was simple: "I want to make another donation. There are far too many starving women and children out there."

  Evangeline gasped, "You just donated last month."

  "But I truly can't bear to see it! Even though the dance halls have almost no business now, I want to do what little I can."

  Seeing Vivienne's extreme sincerity, Evangeline led the two of them to a donation box.

  Vivienne took out a pre-prepared check and handed it over.

  "Three million again!" Evangeline cried out.

  "It’s not three million dollars. The Kron is worthless now. Compared to the $400,000 the mine owner donated, this is nothing."

  "Oh, I have little money and can't compare to him. I’m satisfied if I can just help one or two hundred families buy grain."

  "Madame!" Evangeline, seeing no one around, leaned in and whispered, "That's not true. Of the $400,000 the mine owner promised, only $100,000 actually arrived. You’ve donated here six times this year, and I know you donate to other churches too. You’ve given more than him."

  My assets are less than a tenth of his, yet I’ve donated more than him?

  That’s what Vivienne thought, though on the surface she only looked slightly surprised: "..."

  Suddenly, shouting and footsteps came from outside the church doors.

  Moments later, a man in a suit with a knife stuck in his abdomen burst into the church and collapsed sideways on the floor. His bloody clothes immediately stained the floor red.

  "Ah!"

  Evangeline screamed, and Vivienne was startled as well.

  "Quick, close the door! Someone is trying to kill me!" the man cried out in a pained voice.

  But Evangeline had clearly lost her head; she had never seen such a scene. Fortunately, Fabian reacted instantly. He sprinted to the main door, slammed the iron gates shut, and slid the bolt home.

  Then he rushed back to check the man.

  "Are you okay? Can the knife be pulled out?"

  "Yes... I dodged fast... it's not deep, not fatal... help me..."

  Since he could talk that much, it really wasn't deep. Fabian pulled the fruit knife out, making the man scream in pain.

  Evangeline had not only gauze but also wound dressings and antibiotics—supplies they usually took when going on relief missions to the countryside to help the poor. In no time, the two of them had the man’s wound bandaged up.

  Even though Vivienne detested men, she leaned over with concern. "Can you hold on? Do you want me to send someone to take you to the hospital?"

  "Madame, don't go out. There’s a riot happening outside."

  "A riot?"

  "Yes, a riot."

  "Over on West Gate Street, two protest groups started fighting. One side wants to reclaim the territory, the other wants to improve livelihoods."

  "Then merchants and police with different political views joined the chaos."

  "At least dozens of people are dead."

  "There was a stampede too."

  The man briefly explained how he got injured: he was a clerk in the Land Administration Bureau—not even a director. But for some reason, as he walked out of his office when the riot started, someone charged straight at him and stabbed him. Luckily, he had blocked it slightly with his files.

  While he was running away, he realized the person was still chasing him, which meant he had been targeted for assassination.

  Vivienne’s heart skipped a beat. The worst-case scenario she had predicted was here.

  But why would someone want to assassinate a mere clerk from the Land Administration Bureau? That bureau handled the distribution of urban land, farmland, and forest land.

  Did someone want his records? Was that why they chased him?

  Vivienne pondered for a long moment before asking the man, "Are you in charge of farmland redistribution? Are those files about farmland?"

  "Ah!" The clerk suddenly realized. "It was the big landlord’s people trying to steal my files! That's why they were chasing me!"