Chapter 939: Chapter 939

In the spacious and bright office, Corvey, his hair and beard both snow-white, watched the elderly man who had just stopped speaking.

The live broadcast froze on that final moment, when the elder’s gaze drifted past the screen, voicing a loud, urgent call.

On that weathered face, there was no fear, no hesitation, only composure and determination in the face of that terrifying and brutal enemy.

Everyone in the office fell silent at that moment, as quiet as the city that had calmed outside the window.

From Saint Yilan to Nevus, from the Mayor’s Mansion to the Low-rise District, an eerie and dim silence covered the ancient city at this moment.

The tens of thousands seemed all to fall silent at this time. They stood before the giant billboards, hunched over the aged wristbands, watching the elder in the screen’s last moments, seeing the composure and determination that seemed to infect the soul.

The towering factory buildings continued to tremble tirelessly, emitting roaring noises, like the city’s never-ceasing heartbeat in silence, thumping against the spirit of every humble being.

the middle-aged military officer standing behind Corvey glanced at his wristband, looked down, and quickly said,

"Just received news, the Mercenary Corps from the Yiwis Space System have accelerated their approach. Our sensing devices have captured long-distance encrypted radio communication signals. It’s likely that someone outside the South Gate is communicating with the mercenary forces."

His voice, like a spike breaking a dream, woke those around him who were still immersed in the recent speech, some bewildered, some astonished, not yet fully recovered.

At this time, the middle-aged military officer, standing close to Corvey, already looked up at the giant screen ahead and continued quietly, "There’s a radio barrier over the high wall, and only our unlimited electricity can’t be sent out. Judging by the timing, the one contacting the Mercenary Corps could have left the city from the inside, departing from the South Gate immediately after the speech ended."

Corvey withdrew his gaze from the screen in front, looked down at the holographic projection before him, where the mechanical troops had accelerated their march.

when the middle-aged officer saw the silent Corvey, and the aged, somber face, he asked tentatively and quietly, "They are about to enter our defense zone. Do we follow standard practice and have only the scouts continue to observe this Mercenary Corps?"

Corvey shook his head, lifting his gaze naturally, his posture straightened, tightening his suit.

At this moment, the weariness, old age, and depth seemed to shake off like dust; he appeared no longer an aged commander but a vibrant young military man standing on the battlefield.

His hand rested on the holographic projection before him, his aged voice steady and calm, "Send a direct message to ask them what they intend to do. Warn them that they are about to enter the defense zone of Yilan City, and the Ilan City Defense Army has the right to counterattack in self-defense against any enemy with malicious intent."

The middle-aged officer was startled, then instantly stood upright, loudly responding, "Yes, sir!"

"Tell the boys on the city walls,"

Corvey turned to the window, opening it, letting the drifting wind and rain blow in, across his cheeks.

He lifted his head to look at the gray city outside, to the endless high wall beyond the city, "Let them be lively, execute the first-level battle readiness plan. Us old bones, need to move from time to time."

Listening to Corvey, all the officers behind him, including the middle-aged one, were taken aback, then without hesitation immediately stood up straight, their hands across their chests, replying loudly, "Yes, sir!"

Then they quickly marched orderly towards the office door.

Listening as the orderly footsteps gradually faded behind him, Corvey slowly turned around, his back to the wind blowing in from the window.

He took out a cigarette, placed it between his lips, then fumbled for the matches, striking a flame.

As the match ignited a bright spark on the cigarette, his gaze cut through the rising smoke, fixating on the figure on the screen ahead, and he took a gentle drag.

Then he looked down at the match still burning in his hand, then turned to glance out the window again.

With a flick of his finger, the light match, with its dwindling flickering flame, traveled through the trembling curtain of rain, falling toward the silent, gray city.

Outside the Mayor’s Mansion

The rising flames lit the white cigarette while the slender man with a beard stood in the rain, smoking, his body slightly stooped, his sharp gaze piercing through the silent crowd and towards the now extinguished giant screen of the speech.

"Is there any new directive from above?"

The burly bald man pulled back his hand and lit the cigarette in his mouth, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding crowd that had fallen completely silent, and he slowly spoke, "Never thought that our executioners still retained a shred of humanity."

The silence was not just among the spectators around but also the ’part-time staff’ encircled by the parade participants and even those surrounding the parade, holding the participants hostage.

"After all, living in this city, who doesn’t have a family member working in the mines or factories,"

The gaunt man bowed his head and removed the cigarette from his mouth, "We know better than anyone how greedy and bloodthirsty those damn mines and factories are. Before sinking into the gangs and becoming soulless executioners, who didn’t long for a happy life under the sun? Didn’t you ever think about it?"

"Who the hell hasn’t?"

The bald muscleman took a drag of his cigarette and looked towards the Mayor’s Mansion behind the Jasmine Flower Sea, "Now I understand why the higher-ups are so determined to kill our Mayor. To be honest, after listening to his speech, there was even a moment where I wanted to join him in charging against this damned world."

"The purpose of this speech is probably not just to stir up emotions and unify the people,"

The gaunt man spoke softly.

"Is there anything else?"

The bald muscleman turned to glance at the gaunt man, "You guys always think in such roundabout ways."

"I don’t know, the big shots’ thoughts are indeed convoluted, but I have a vague feeling,"

The gaunt man took a drag of his cigarette, "that the world seems to be changing."

He removed the butt of the cigarette, flicked the ash off in the rain,

"Let’s go, the new directive I just received from above is to move the plan up. We need to cause some commotion, can’t let our Mayor’s speech end so smoothly.

"After all, we are the soulless lackeys of the Consortium. If a real fight breaks out and the families of those we’ve killed come at us, there won’t be enough of us to go around, and the bastards under our command are well aware of their status."

He held the burning cigarette, slowly moving forward, pushing through the people around him, heading towards the silent parade participants, "Our Mayor is a good mayor, but he’d be even better off dead."

The bald muscleman followed behind him.

"Ladies and gentlemen,"

The gaunt man stood in the rain, lifted the burning cigarette high, and walked towards the encircled parade participants.

The fierce-looking parade participants obediently cleared a path, allowing him to enter the depths of the crowded parade.

He looked at the people in the parade and whispered so only those nearby could hear, "I believe everyone came here dissatisfied with the policies created by Mayor Linen, hoping to earn a bit of hard-earned money. Right now, I have a job. It’s a bit risky, but the reward is substantial if you can pull it off."

Almost as soon as his voice fell, a very low voice rose from the crowd, "We have no dissatisfaction with Mr. Linen; you are lying, we were completely tricked into coming here."

The gaunt man looked up, his gaze piercing through the crowd and locking eyes with a frail-looking teenager.

Then he turned back with a smile, looking at the crowd, "It’s good to have your own thoughts."

As he turned, a mean-looking man pushed into the crowd, stared at the weak teenager, and before the teen could speak, clamped a hand over his mouth. Then he pulled out a thin needle and jabbed it into the teenager’s arm.

The previously struggling body of the teen slumped back instantaneously.

Suddenly, the crowd was a bit restless.

The gaunt man smiled, "It’s just a bit of sedative, I only wanted him to have a quiet nap. Everyone’s here to make money, let’s not think about shouting for help or anything. Not to mention whether the people outside will believe you,"

His tone lowered a notch, "Ladies and gentlemen, it’s quite clear that closer to you than them are me and our friends."

The limp teen was restrained by the menacing man, his eyes shut, but his chest rose and fell faintly; he was indeed still alive.

What could deliver a sedative could also deliver poison.

Looking at the gaunt man’s dangerous smile, the slightly agape mouths among the crowd choked on their words; everyone lowered their heads, not daring to look at him.

No one knew whether he would actually suddenly kill someone or not.

the gaunt man said with a smile, "Let’s talk about that task from before? It’s actually quite simple, only requiring a few steps outside."

The response he received was a dim silence; no one dared to raise their head in opposition, but neither did anyone raise their head to do his bidding.

"Why not find someone from our own ranks to do it?"

The bald brawny man who had walked up behind the gaunt man whispered.

"For the best effect, the person doing this needs to have a clean identity, one that can’t be traced back to any troubles."

The gaunt man replied quietly while holding a cigarette, "The cleaner the person’s identity, the better they can ’represent’ ’citizens of Yilan City.’"

As he spoke, his gaze swept over the still-silent crowd, slightly opening his mouth, ready to say something more.

But at that instant, a somewhat crisp female voice rang out from the crowd, "How much money will you give?"

The gaunt man looked up and saw a small-framed, cute woman with short bronzed hair stepping out from the crowd.

"Young lady, what’s your name? You won’t even ask what the task is?"

The gaunt man asked, lowering his head.

Liz lifted her head, her neck stiff as she looked at the gaunt man, "I’m asking, how much money will you give?"

"It doesn’t sound like your real name. How much do you want?"

The gaunt man squinted, examining the woman before him.

Liz stared at the gaunt man, "No, eight hundred! I know your business won’t be too safe, I want a price that matches the risk."

The gaunt man looked down at Liz, and after a brief contemplation with his cigarette clenched in his lips, his tone was icy, "Alright."

"Give me my wristband back. I want the transfer right away, including today’s wage. I need to see the money."

Liz looked at the gaunt man, holding back her trembling body, demanding coldly.

This time, the gaunt man didn’t answer immediately. He lowered his head, looking carefully at the slender, fragile young woman with a stiff neck, as though trying to discern what she was truly thinking.

In the end, he seemed to have determined that this was merely a person who was greedily impulsive yet timid. He withdrew his gaze and glanced at a person beside him, "Return her wristband to her."

An old black wristband was thrown from within the rain, hurled toward the petite young woman.

Perhaps because the throw was too quick, the petite woman failed to catch the band on the first try, fumbled twice, and finally pressed the wristband against her thigh before swiftly putting it on.

"Young lady, there aren’t many who can coax money out of my hand."

The gaunt man lowered his gaze, raised the wristband, and transferred the funds to the woman before him, "I hope you won’t disappoint me."

"I’ll try to give you some surprises."

Liz said to the man before her, taking a deep breath and speaking swiftly.

"I don’t need any surprises; what you need to do is very simple,"

the gaunt man raised his head, looking towards the nearby Mayor’s Guard, his voice lowered, "My people will cover you as you charge at the Mayor’s Guard later,"

He took a flag from someone next to him that read "Linen Steps Down" and handed it to Liz, "And you seize the moment to rush out with this flag, charge in front of that big screen, and then just wave the flag,"

He looked at Liz’s slightly sinking cheeks, his tone growing colder, "Understand? If you still don’t get it, I can say it again, but this is the last time."

Liz looked at him and said quickly, "Add two hundred more."

The gaunt man’s expression stalled.

Liz immediately added.

"My people will start any moment now; they will follow behind you, and I hope you can do it well."

The gaunt man watched the petite woman before him with an icy gaze, raised his wristband, and transferred two hundred federal coins; he reached out and took a miniature microphone from it, handing it to Liz, "There are our hidden speakers around, this microphone can connect to the speakers, and if there’s an issue with the flag later, you can use this microphone to shout the words on the flag."

The message of money arriving in her wristband seemed to cover up the tension and fear, Liz took a deep breath, took the flag, and followed the gaunt man to the front of the team.

Members of the Mayor’s Guard in uniform stood before the Jasmine Flower Sea, using isolation tape to block the crowd outside.

The white jasmine flowers dancing in the rain were close enough to brush through her hair.

Looking ahead at the wide and huge screen, the image on the screen was relighting at that moment, pausing at the start of the speech, seemingly ready to replay the speech.

The gaunt man saw the image, a smile curled at the corner of his mouth, and he shouted, "Now is the time."

A fierce roar erupted in the crowd instantaneously, followed by the ’Parade Participants’ at the front surging forward, breaking through the Mayor’s Guard’s defense line and rushing into the Jasmine Flower Sea.

Liz felt someone push her hard from behind; her figure swiftly flew out, crossing the entire flower sea and tumbling into the jasmine bushes not far from the screen.

Sharp thorns scraped her arms and cheeks for a moment, drawing out streaks of fresh blood.

But she had no time to pay attention to these; she looked ahead at the screen, her body rapidly crossing the flower sea and charging over.

Members of the Mayor’s Guard immediately rushed forward, ready to stop her, while at the same time, other burly men charged out, holding off the Mayor’s Guard.

In the fierce wind and rain, one figure after another entangled together beside her.

Liz rolled and crawled through the White Jasmine Flower Sea, with blood seeping into the rainwater, inching closer and closer to that vast screen.

She lay on the ground, with her hand pressed on the walkway in front of the screen, looked up, and saw the kind white-haired Elderly man on the screen.

At that moment, the Elderly’s gaze was directed towards the bottom of the lens; that gaze transcending time seemed to be watching her now.

She took a deep breath, climbed onto the walkway in front of the screen, turned around, and looked outside.

The powerful glow from the huge screen illuminated her surroundings, scattering all the darkness around her, and with her back to this intense light, she looked at the dense crowd under the gloomy sky.

Camera after camera was lifted from the crowd; those were reporters mingling within the crowd.

Her long-term association with Ini had given her some news acumen.

Standing in this dazzling radiance, in front of the vast image of the Elderly, the woman took a deep breath and clipped the miniature microphone onto her collar.

She slammed the "Linen Steps Down" flag in her hand onto the ground, raised her hands high, and shouted,

"They are all liars!!! The Consortium’s liars!!!"

The loud voices burst from the surrounding hidden speakers, echoing in everyone’s ears.

The smile on the gaunt man standing in the crowd froze on his face.

But after a brief shock, he quickly pressed the communicator on his ear and shouted, "Take action!"