Antonio walked into Ricardo’s office and saw an extra person inside: Gideon, the President’s Special Administrative Assistant.

  Gideon wore a pair of glasses and looked like a refined scholar, but he only ever appeared when something major had happened.

  After a few brief pleasantries, they got straight to business.

  Gideon began by briefing them on the situation at West Gate Street: 67 people were dead and 254 injured following a brawl between two groups of protesters. Among them, 28 were in critical condition. It had become the most serious public death event in the Port Sol area since the ceasefire.

  Currently, the police had formed two human walls to block the center of the street, but protesters continued to hurl Molotov cocktails at the enemy camp on the opposite side. These firebombs had already injured twenty-seven police officers.

  Additionally, during the early stages of the riot, 31 police officers had joined the rioters' ranks. They had all been arrested and were currently undergoing interrogation.

  Gideon then played a surveillance tape for the two men.

  It started with a group protesting the rise in bread prices. They were sitting on the ground, blocking West Gate Street, a major thoroughfare. Their banners read:

  SUPPLY BREAD, OR DISTRIBUTE FARMLAND!

  THOSE WITH LAND DO NOT FARM; THOSE WITHOUT LAND SLEEP ON THE STREETS!

  THE WAR WAS WON, BUT I BECAME A SLAVE!

  THEY ARE FREE TO HOARD; WE ARE FREE TO DIE!

  ...

  Because the road was blocked, some people anxious to travel got out of their cars and started shouting matches with the protesters, but no physical conflict occurred at that time.

  It wasn’t until 12:36 PM that a group of men clutching newspapers rushed into the center of the street and began beating the protesters. The protesters initially held the advantage due to their numbers, but then someone threw a Molotov cocktail at the police. Dozens of officers then joined the side of the protesters holding the newspapers.

  Local street vendors, rickshaw drivers, and even passersby saw the poor being beaten and joined the protesters' side one after another.

  Eventually, it devolved into a mass brawl and a stampede.

  They watched for nearly two hours.

  Snap! The video was turned off.

  "Isn't this whole thing caused by the hype from the Defense Daily? The newspapers they were holding were the Defense Daily special edition," Antonio said with certainty.

  "Of course!" Gideon pulled out some photos taken by tabloid reporters. In the hands of the group that struck first, the words "Defense Daily Special Edition" were clearly visible.

  "And what does the Ministry of Defense say?"

  "They haven't said a thing. I suspect they’ll issue a 'refutation' tomorrow, hehe."

  "Antonio!" Ricardo interjected. "This is a handwritten letter from the President that Gideon brought. I’ve already read it. You take a look too."

  Antonio took the letter. The content was simple: "The other side has agreed to a meeting involving only the civilian government system. A surprise meeting will be scheduled soon. The Ministry of Defense instigated the riot today specifically to disrupt this meeting. There is a mole from the Minister of Defense by my side. Do not reply by phone. Burn after reading."

  After finishing, Antonio handed the letter back. Ricardo struck a match and burned it.

  "This is the last time the President will send you a message before the talks. He cannot make any more moves, or the Minister of Defense will surely send troops to surround the Presidential Palace," Gideon explained.

  The Minister of Defense commanded the three branches of the military. In this country, if he explicitly opposed something, the President’s seat would not last long.

  If he ordered Ricardo's dismissal, Ricardo would have to stop working immediately tonight, facing a fate no different from Ramon's.

  This was exactly why Antonio had to save Ramon.

  Of course, Ricardo held the power of the Army, and Port Sol fell under the jurisdiction of the Army's First District. If the Minister of Defense dared to do such a thing, he would have to weigh whether he could walk out of Port Sol alive.

  "Let’s settle our strategy for tonight first." Ricardo spread a city map across the desk.

  "First question: If we allow Dimitri to lead his troops into West Gate Street at midnight tonight, what will happen?"

  Gideon pushed his glasses up and answered calmly, "People will die. A lot of people. And they will definitely die only after the power grid is shut off. The next morning, we will only see a pile of civilian corpses."

  Ricardo asked the second question: "If we want to act, how can we let Dimitri enter the field with his troops while avoiding mass civilian casualties?"

  Gideon thought for a moment. "Unless either the President or the Vice President shows up in person with followers carrying cameras. The military wouldn't dare act recklessly then. But that’s a massive security risk; no one can guarantee an accident won't happen."

  "So my only option now is to dismiss Bernardo from his post?" Ricardo began rubbing his forehead with his palm.

  Gideon replied quickly, "Then in less than thirty minutes, the Minister of Defense will dismiss you too."

  At the end of the day, it was because even though they had entered a period of peace, the national system was still under a wartime footing. The Minister of Defense had too much power. This was what Antonio thought as he remained silent.

  "Then let's change our thinking," Ricardo continued to lead the meeting. "What if we let Antonio replace Dimitri and lead the troops to West Gate Street?"

  Gideon didn't answer and looked toward Antonio.

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  Antonio paced back and forth a few times, looking out the window where the sky was pitch black. "We would fall into a lose-lose-lose situation. First, if Bernardo wants to launch a major offensive against the other side or surround the Presidential Palace, there won't be a single person left who can restrain him. Although allowing Dimitri to massacre the protesters at West Gate Street tonight is cruel, if we let them recklessly provoke a war, the death toll on both sides will be in the tens of thousands. With the famine raging, it could easily be ten times that."

  "Second, the second I lead troops out and fail to follow Bernardo's orders, I’ll be exposed. You have to realize that even now, I’m only out here on the pretext of inspecting West Gate Street, and I specifically took a detour to pass by that area. If I show up but don't perform, I'm sure the Minister of Defense will parachute in a division commander to take control of me."

  "Third, from the first second I am exposed, they will certainly send troops to cut the power and massacre the civilians even more brutally. Then they’ll pin the blame on me and Ricardo. Remember, I’m the one you promoted."

  "What if you, Antonio, control Dimitri at the barracks, release Ramon, and then immediately surround the Ministry of Defense? How much of a chance do we have to capture the Minister?" Gideon proposed a bold idea.

  "None," Ricardo shook his head. "The people around the Minister of Defense are hard to penetrate. If there’s any movement, he’ll definitely escape by helicopter immediately. Then it’ll be another civil war."

  "Ramon isn't one of us. If we save him, he might even betray us later. We have to let him reach a dead end before we save him," Antonio added.

  "..." The three men fell into a long silence.

  "Time is running out. Let’s use a dirty trick," Antonio said. "Immediately contact the gangs in every street. Leak the news to them ahead of time that the military is going to massacre civilians to sabotage the peace talks and land distribution. The gang members are all children of the poor; they will surely make arrangements in advance. They might even deal a heavy blow to the unprepared army."

  Antonio stomped his foot, gave a military salute, and left without permission.

  Behind him, Ricardo and Gideon looked at each other and smiled. Gideon whispered, "A 'muddy-legs' has his own 'muddy-legs' ways. I think it’s feasible."

  "Let’s arrange our parts separately."

  "The gas station system belongs to our people. Tell them not to limit gasoline purchases tonight. Let's see who's afraid of whom!"

  When Antonio returned to the barracks gate, he saw Rocco standing guard on one side. He told Tom to slow down the car and tossed the man a piece of chestnut cake.

  "What is this, feeding a dog?!" Rocco cursed at the tail of Antonio’s disappearing car. "What’s so great about being a Vice Division Commander? What’s so great about selling your ass? What’s so great about having chestnut cake... If I were that handsome, I wouldn't sell my ass... I’d go to the brothels for free..."

  As he cursed, he unwrapped the chestnut cake and glanced at the small writing on the inside of the paper.

  Eyes lit up.

  "Go quickly to the red-light district and spread the word that the military will massacre civilians at midnight tonight to block the land reforms."

  The handwriting was tiny, scribbled, and cramped.

  Rocco finished the cake and clutched his stomach. "Ouch! My stomach hurts so bad! Hey, hey, hey! You guys, didn't we agree to go drinking tonight?"

  "I can't do it. I have to leave early to buy medicine... Ouch... my stomach... who's coming out to drink with me..."

  With all this trouble going on, he still dared to go out drinking? And besides, he wanted to drink even though his stomach hurt?

  There were four other people in the guardhouse, and they all shook their heads at Rocco. Someone pointed toward the military infirmary.

  "Go to the infirmary for medicine."

  "No way! I tried to hit on that nurse once; she’ll poison me! Last time I had a cold, she swapped my medicine for laxatives."

  No one paid him any mind. Rocco left work an hour early, clutching his stomach and shrinking his neck as he slipped away.

  Antonio returned to the Army District Commander's office to report on his inspection.

  Bernardo was working overtime tonight and welcomed Antonio into his office with a beaming smile.

  Antonio gave a rough account of the details he had seen in the videos. Bernardo kept nodding his head.

  It was no different from the information he already had.

  "Antonio, why are you speaking so fast?"

  "I'm hungry!" Antonio laughed.

  "Hehe, then I’ll accompany you to dinner."

  Looking at this smirking old man, Antonio froze for a second. It was already 8:43 PM; Bernardo had definitely eaten already. Why was he offering to go to dinner?

  It was just too much—downright nauseating.

  Unexpectedly, the old man leaned into Antonio’s ear, and what he said next was even more skin-crawling:"Antonio, did you have your way with Colonel Garrison today?"

  "Who said that? Who’s talking such nonsense?" Antonio feigned anger.

  "Everyone is saying it! Garrison went back to his office and cried for an hour. Aren't you afraid he’ll sue you for rape?"

  He even used the word "rape"?

  Antonio laughed inwardly. He raised his voice and shouted, "With you here, what am I afraid of? I just... did him a little bit."

  "Good, good, good! You’ve got backbone! But next time, you need to be more discreet." The old man finished and then muttered to himself, "I don't know what you see in that guy anyway. He's not even as good-looking as I am."

  Antonio: "..."