“Father!”
Standing at the doorway, the third son wore a respectful and obedient expression. The closer he got to that position of power, the more he realized he couldn’t afford to be impatient.
In so ways, he did hold advantages over his two older brothers—he knew how to turn others’ experiences into his own. In that regard, his brothers were inferior.
Looking at this self-assured son, Governor Drags couldn’t help but feel a bit of schadenfreude. The boy had no idea what he was about to face—and it certainly wasn’t a bright future.
The governor had co to deeply understand the greed and malice of the Federation. Even though he was now technically a part of it, it didn’t stop him from describing them in such venomous terms.
Step by step, they interfered, controlled, and manipulated the country to shape it into sothing that suited them. They were terrifying—shaless and dangerously cunning.
To serve as a puppet under their control? He’d rather give it all up.
“Pour a glass of water…” he said, pointing at the kettle on the table. The third son quickly stepped into the study, grabbed a cup, poured the water in front of him, and handed it over.
After taking a sip, he felt slightly better. He studied his son, who was lowering his head. The gaze lasted over a minute.
For soone like Lynch, such a stare wouldn’t trigger any reaction. But for this young man, who still believed in a hopeful future, it was overwhelming.
He beca uneasy, then summoned the courage to et his father’s eyes—only to retreat monts later, lowering his head again and beginning to sweat.
“Did I… do sothing wrong?” he asked, the mounting pressure forcing him to speak in order to release it.
Not everyone can endure such pressure. Under it, people often start questioning themselves—doubting their decisions, losing confidence, then suffering physical symptoms like cramps, thirst, sweating, even the urge to use the bathroom.
He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his father.
“You?” The governor ca back to himself. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just imagining what you’d look like in my seat.”
It was like sitting at ho when a bar of gold smashed through the wall—painful, but still cause for celebration.
The third son imdiately dropped to his knees, trembling with emotion. “Father…”
Clever, but not wise—that was the governor’s judgnt of him.
“Get up. I’m not testing you. Lately, my health has been deteriorating…” He picked up a bottle of stomach dicine, shook it, and set it down. “The doctors from the Federation told I need to go back for rest.”
“My stomach just started acting up again, and that helped make a decision—it’s ti to step down.”
He spoke with a tinge of sorrow, patting the armrest of his chair and feeling the bumps and grooves along it. It was a rattan chair, a specialty of Nagaryll. Whether commoner or ruler, everyone liked them.
He looked at his son, who had stood up again. Despite trying to appear fearful, he couldn’t hide the excitent radiating from his whole body.
The governor sneered, “You think this is a good thing?”
He nodded before continuing, “If the Federation wasn’t involved, then yes—it would be a good thing. You’re still young, and you could hold power for another thirty or forty years, maybe longer.”
“But with the Federation, it’s no longer a good thing.”
The son suddenly asked, “Is the Federation forcing you to leave?”
“Forcing ?” The governor laughed. “No, this is my own choice. The Federation’s thods of reshaping Nagaryll are becoming more and more overt. Leaving you behind—it’s actually unfair to you.”
“They want to interfere with our political system, take control of our military. Eventually, even we—governors, future parliant mbers—will be puppets controlled by them…”
“No, we already are puppets. And I’m sick of being one.”
He looked at his son, opening up for the first ti. “Do you hate —for passing on the responsibilities I should have shouldered and leaving you to face it alone?”
His son pressed his lips tightly. Hate?
He only hated that this day hadn’t co sooner. Whether or not he was a puppet didn’t matter to him. He believed he could change the situation.
Even if he couldn’t change it, he could at least improve things.
Sotis he thought his father’s decisions were not just foolish, but deeply flawed. The Federation was indeed powerful, but not invincible. They had weaknesses—chief among them, population.
Yes, the very population the Federation valued in Nagaryll was also its greatest threat. There were too many people here, and unless the Federation launched an open invasion, they could never fully control it.
Of course, these were only his private thoughts. He hadn’t shared them with anyone. He was simply waiting—for the day he could act.
Faced with his father’s question, he thought for a mont and shook his head. “Soone has to take responsibility. I think I can do it well.”
The governor let out a sigh of relief. “If the pressure becos too much, you can talk to Lynch. Use the title of governor in exchange for freedom—co to the Federation. We may lose our power, but we’ll live comfortably.”
After all, they were father and son. Even if this wasn’t his favorite child, he was still his son. As the end approached, he opened his heart.
In his view, maybe taking his son away with him would be the best choice. But the gleam in his son’s eyes convinced him otherwise—a man blinded by the illusion of power.
The results of the Federation’s internal etings quickly spread throughout Nagaryll—after all, the military was a sensitive issue.
In the past, the local powers and the royal family fought openly for control of the army. Everyone understood how crucial it was. Now the Federation wanted to take it all, without saying a word. Of course there would be objections.
But what good were objections?
What could resistance bring other than trouble?
Nothing. The Federation would simply erase those who refused to cooperate. Faced with such an overwhelmingly strong nation, Nagaryll’s governors lowered their heads.
Things went smoother than expected. In the talks a few days later, nearly everyone accepted the Federation’s proposal to send troops to help maintain order in Nagaryll.
Even more outrageous—it wasn’t the Federation who proposed it, but their new king, a puppet.
At that point, opposition no longer mattered. With unanimous approval, Nagaryll’s future was sealed.
All that remained was for the Federation to decide when and how to formally incorporate the nation into its territory.
During this ti, a minor incident occurred as well: a scandal involving the Fox Pictures board of directors.
Forr president Mr. Fox was sued by the York State tax bureau for tax evasion. In court, he admitted to all charges and did not appeal.
In light of his cooperative attitude and willingness to compensate, the judge showed leniency during sentencing and gave him five years in prison.
For an old man, that wasn’t exactly good news.
“Thank you for coming. I thought we’d et sowhere else,” Fox said to Lynch in the courthouse lounge after the gavel had fallen.
Lynch had personally attended the trial and sentencing. Fox had assud he’d stay away, maybe visit later in prison—but to his surprise, Lynch ca in person.
It was a clear statent, and Fox understood that. His feelings were mixed—so excitent, a sense that this was how it should be, and a bit of relief.
In fact, the lawsuit wasn’t entirely bad for him. At the very least, it broke out while his relationship with Lynch was still good, and it helped clean up so long-standing issues.
More importantly, it didn’t drag in Fox Jr..
At the ti, Fox Jr. had joined the business not as the family heir, but as a hired employee. That distinction kept his finances completely separate from Fox’s.
Fox had always feared this would beco a major problem. He hadn’t thought so in the past—back then, he was still a would-be criminal, and if a criminal doesn’t commit cris, what’s the point?
But after eting Lynch and getting a quick taste of a more interesting life, fear set in.
Fear that soone might investigate, dig into the past, and destroy everything.
Fortunately, everything remained under control. When the state tax office suddenly backed off and started handling him quietly, he knew Lynch was working behind the scenes.
Now, thanks to that, he could plead guilty and get his sentence reduced in exchange for a fine—all because of Lynch.
Lynch shrugged. “It’s what I should do. You kept your word, so I’m keeping mine.”
Fox had never given anyone up. He took full responsibility for the tax evasion and denied knowledge of anything else. That kind of hardline silence protected Lynch when exposure was most likely.
That mattered.
“I did it for myself—and for that idiot son of mine,” Fox said easily, even with a faint smile on his face.
He was going to prison, but Fox Jr. ca out clean. With Lynch’s help keeping the board stable, the Fox family business was secure.
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