If the bombing of the power plant made people realize Lynch’s decisiveness, then the frequent attacks on patrols in the following days struck genuine fear into their hearts.
In this straightforward world, there aren’t sayings like as the proverb goes, full of wisdom and moral aning—but human ingenuity still produces brilliance. For instance: You can’t watch sothing forever.
This line perfectly illustrates the dynamic between a thirf works a thousand days and a guard guards a thousand days. It also shows that so elents of other linguistic cultures are, after all, worth acknowledging.
For several nights, the city was shrouded in darkness, and patrols were attacked again and again.
At first, it was just a few incidents. Then a dozen people. By the fourth night, two entire patrol squads—eighteen people—vanished without a trace.
No gunshots. No sounds. Nothing. They disappeared into the night.
Zhuris is a quiet place. Even a fart, if held back with just a bit of effort, can be heard from the next house over—let alone gunfire. Normally, the whole city would hear it.
But during these incidents, there were no shots. So outposts even suspected the squads had deserted due to fear. After all, the army had sothing of a tradition of desertion.
Only later, when so bodies were found, did they realize the patrols had been killed.
Shortly afterward, Blackstone Security reported a new rebel group result, claiming so key anti-governnt militants had escaped and warning all Allian offices to be alert for possible retaliation.
See? They’d even prepared the excuse.
This sent a chill through the rchants in the imperial district. Lynch was really willing to kill—and nobody could pin anything on him.
With his semi-diplomatic status, he was a tough target. Any action against him could risk an international incident. And if they did dig up anything substantial on him, he could just leave—his diplomatic cover would protect him. Unless Gephra wanted to break relations with the Federation, they couldn’t stop him from returning ho.
They couldn’t kill him. He was ruthless
“The Federal Tax Bureau has reopened the previous investigation into you and Fox. Fox has already been taken in, and it looks like they’re collecting evidence related to you as well.”
Lynch couldn’t help but laugh after hearing this, but his expression was grim. “Looks like they’re trying to force out of here!”
There was no doubt in his mind—in fact, Lynch could guarantee it: the mont he left Allia, the Governor’s Office would publicly announce a bidding process. The tax investigation was definitely connected to Governor Sedel’s son—this Soren guy.
He didn’t have many options left—only two.
First, stay and continue handling the situation here, and hope that Fox and everyone involved, along with all the evidence, held firm. If even one part collapsed, the whole circle would fall apart.
Second, abandon everything here and return to the Federation imdiately. Face the Tax Bureau himself, patch every gap, and try to survive this major crisis.
“Thanks for the tily heads-up. I’ll take it seriously.”
After hanging up, Lynch rubbed his fists, sat for a while, then stood and walked to the window, lighting a cigarette.
The formless smoke rose slowly, like a person’s thoughts—unpredictable and without pattern.
After a long while, he had made up his mind—he would return to the Federation.
So things needed to be settled once and for all. He also needed to teach certain people a lesson: so enemies are difficult, and so are crazy.
As Lynch packed up and bought a ticket back to the Federation, Governor Sedel was on a call with Soren.
“…Lynch has already bought a ticket and is preparing to leave. You’ve done well over there,” Governor Sedel said with a faint smile.
Lynch was indeed a troubleso guy—bold and adept at leveraging his advantages. If they didn’t get rid of him, many things would remain uncertain.
But now, that concern was gone. At the sa ti, it served as a lesson for all foreign rchants in Allia.
No matter how powerful they were, or what background they had—as long as they were on this land, they had to follow the governor’s rules. No exceptions.
This warning would last for a long ti, until everyone naturally obeyed the rules here.
“To the Federals, only profit matters. As long as the money’s good enough, they don’t care who they sell to.”
“No faith, no reverence—the people on the streets look like they’ve lost their souls. That’s what the Federation looks like to .”
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