Chapter 941: Obstruction and Continued Acquisition

The situation in Rapa became extremely turbulent in just two or three short days.

For the first time, Pedro, in his capacity as the “number one anti-government armed force leader,” had appeared on the “hot list” of the Yalan region—if such a list existed.

Meanwhile, another anti-government group, the “National Force Liberation” led by “Worker Ross,” had also taken control of a city. The entire Rapa was like a hornet’s nest that had been kicked from a branch; it had completely exploded.

Pedro was still expanding his power, and now there was Ross. So next time, who would it be, and what would they do?

"...I understand. I will consider it seriously." The great president of the Jede Republic hung up the phone. He lit a cigarette and silently took two puffs.

The other officials in the office were watching him closely.

As the ruler who had led the Jede Republic to prosperity and strength, the great president—and his father, the previous president—had been deified by the public. “A holy man without flaws” was how people described them, an acknowledgment of how the father and son had brought the nation to its current height.

The officials in the room were deeply respectful.

He glanced at the newspaper on the desk. On the front page were old photos of Pedro and Ross. No one could believe that a high school teacher who looked rather weak, and a factory worker, had become the men who drove the sharpest knife into Diego’s heart.

He had even heard that Pedro had led more than ten university students who had been admitted to Jede University. It was simply incredible.

"Diego told me that there’s a high probability the federal people have intervened. He has already lodged a formal protest with the Federation’s ambassador to Rapa."

"However, I don’t think that will be of much use. During the negotiations, you must have felt it too—the real Federation and the Federation we’ve studied are not the same thing."

The officials nodded in agreement.

In truth, the Jede Republic’s development had drawn heavily from the Federation’s example. They had spent fifty years reforming society, redistributing power from the ruling elite to the middle and lower classes. Now, officials at the level of mayor were essentially elected by the people, though in many regions, low-level voters were still influenced by local interest groups.

Even so, this was undeniable progress. Those local groups, to maintain stability and win voter support, had begun to develop local economies and ensure security on their own.

The Federation had taken decades to build such a system. For the Jede Republic, it was like an open-book exam—and they had done quite well.

For decades, they had regarded the Federation as both a model and a goal. A slogan had even spread across the nation:

"Work hard with enthusiasm, build diligently, and surpass the Federation!"

The efforts of two or three generations over many decades had finally paid off. As the richest country in the Yalan region, many believed the Jede Republic had become the “Federation” of Yalan.

But their understanding of the Federation had always been superficial. They had never gone deep enough to see its true nature. Through the filter of admiration, the Federation had been idealized.

This time, however, the negotiations shattered that illusion completely.

At the table, the Federation displayed the full extent of political greed and shamelessness. They could raise any topic, demand any condition.

On one hand, they claimed they would not interfere, manipulate, or control; on the other, they played dirty tricks behind the scenes. The great president sighed.

His gaze shifted from the newspapers to the officials and military officers before him.

"We cannot sit by and watch the federal people interfere too much in Rapa’s internal affairs. If they are allowed to subvert Rapa’s regime, it will not be good for us."

His voice was low and heavy.

"The first bad outcome is that the federal people will taste success. They’ll begin aiding anti-government forces in other countries, throwing all the Yalan League nations into turmoil."

"I know very well what it’s like across this land outside our borders. These are all outcomes that can easily be repeated."

"The second danger is that once other countries fall into turmoil or are overthrown, there’s a high chance they’ll break away from the Yalan League."

"The federal government has probably made deals with those anti-government forces—agreements to withdraw from the League or to allow them to station troops in Yalan territory."

"No matter how it develops, it will be disastrous for us."

"I plan to send troops to support Diego in quelling the rebellion and, at the same time, to set an example for the other member states."

A gleam of determination flashed in his eyes. "All these years we’ve taken the Federation as our model. Now it’s time for others to take us as theirs."

"You may discuss it."

The officials immediately began to deliberate. The focus of their discussion was predictable.

Could the Jede Republic’s finances support such an expedition without harming ongoing projects? Was the army capable of achieving swift and decisive victory once deployed?

They couldn’t risk sending troops only to be beaten by a group of rebels and turning the Jede Republic into a joke across Yalan—and even the world.

Military action must always be cautious. A country’s army is like a person’s strongest punch. If it lands and knocks the enemy down, all is well. But if it misses or fails to land solidly, the embarrassment is enormous.

There was also the question of whether Diego would agree. He might worry that transporting troops into Rapa was a pretext for invasion.

The discussion was efficient. Since taking power, the great president had emphasized decisiveness, refusing bureaucratic sluggishness and pushing reforms to improve efficiency.

Within twenty minutes, they reached a consensus. The great president personally called Diego.

Over the phone, he proposed sending troops to assist in putting down the rebellion and restoring order.

Diego didn’t hesitate long—he agreed.

Once the two leaders had an understanding, the great president immediately ordered the military to mobilize.

This was also an opportunity to showcase the Jede Republic’s military strength to the smaller nations of Yalan, reminding them who the true leader was. And it would show the Federation that Yalan was not a piece of cheese for anyone to take a bite of.

This was a hard bone. If you didn’t have strong teeth, you would only break them trying to bite it.

So the great president and the military decided to send their most elite troops.

That same afternoon, the military orders reached the grassroots units. A legion known as the elite of the elite was chosen, and from it, the most capable division was selected.

But what they didn’t expect was that, at the same time the order reached the army, it also appeared before the federal government, the Department of Defense, and several senators in Congress.

The Jede Republic had long studied and imitated the Federation. Many officials had been sent to learn there, to observe its systems and development. Naturally, some formed close ties with federal figures.

For these people, no matter how well the Jede Republic imitated the Federation, it would never truly become it. And if they had a chance to join the real Federation, why wouldn’t they?

It was like everyone’s longing for heaven. If one could enter the real heaven, why bother building a filthy imitation on earth and pretending it was divine?

During a break in negotiations, Senator Cleveland spoke with the Secretary of State and the Speaker of the House. Soon after, an official from the Department of Defense was called in.

By evening, the navy had already received a new directive.

The next day at noon, a large number of soldiers arrived at the military train station to prepare for departure to Rapa.

The great president, for some reason, couldn’t come in person, so he sent his youngest son to boost morale.

To the people of Jede, the presidential family was the “incarnation of God.” When the president’s youngest son, who was always seen by his side, appeared, the young soldiers were ecstatic.

The great president had four sons. The eldest and second already held government posts. The third had chosen academia and was currently conducting research as a professor.

The youngest had no specific position but was almost always by his father’s side. He was known as “the one most like the great president.”

His arrival inspired the soldiers even more than the president’s presence would have.

He stood on the high platform and, before the train’s departure, delivered a passionate speech. The atmosphere was electric. The soldiers wished they could carry the train themselves, rush straight to Rapa, destroy the rebels, and bring it back in triumph.

Just as the president’s son was about to finish his speech and the train’s boilers began to heat, steam rising as departure neared, a government staff member suddenly ran onto the platform. He turned off the microphone and whispered a few words into the young man’s ear.

The young man, who had been glowing with confidence moments earlier, suddenly looked both shocked and furious. His expression changed instantly. Though no one could hear what he said, everyone could feel his anger and guessed he was demanding answers.

The soldiers grew restless, uncertain what had happened.

A few minutes later, the staff member left. The president’s son turned the microphone back on.

He gripped both sides of the lectern, lowered his head slightly, his hair falling over his face, giving him a disheveled look.

"...How should I put this?"

His voice no longer carried the power or passion it had before—only exhaustion and helplessness.

He looked at the soldiers below. His throat felt bitter. These damn federal people.

But he knew he had to tell them the truth. Not out of honesty, but because it couldn’t be hidden.

"Just now, a small fleet from the Federation arrived outside our port. On the grounds of ‘fighting pirates,’ they have, without our authorization, approached our city."

"What’s most hateful is that their cannons are aimed at us!"

He slammed the lectern. The sharp sound silenced the restless soldiers.

"They are warning us, threatening us, in such a despicable way!" He straightened his back. "They’re using this to warn us not to interfere in their evil plan!"

"They’re afraid, and that’s why they’re doing this. It proves that what we’re doing is right and meaningful!"

But his voice faded again.

"For the safety of the port, the city, the civilians, and their property, this military operation is temporarily canceled..."

After speaking, he took two steps back and bowed deeply. "I am ashamed of our weakness and compromise. I owe you all an apology."

The great president sat in his chair, stunned. He had considered many possibilities but never this one. The Federation’s warships had appeared openly at their doorstep and aimed their cannons directly at their port and city.

The Minister of Foreign Affairs and the ambassador to the Federation protested urgently, but the other side claimed it was a “routine operation” against pirates. They said they had intelligence that a pirate ship had entered Jede’s inner bay, and the Federation was “willing to pay any price” to annihilate them.

The ambassador protested again, calling it a military threat and blatant interference, but the Federation did not respond.

At that moment, the great president and his officials finally understood what it meant to be backward.

Humiliation.

Diego soon learned of the situation. Under the sudden pressure from the Federation, he thought of the warship docked in his harbor. Though small and alone, it was enough to make him hesitate. He gathered his troops close, ready to flee if necessary.

He expressed understanding to the great president, and when they hung up, both were silent.

In the following days, the situation in Rapa worsened. The federal government issued a “warning” to its citizens living or traveling there.

Rapa was facing turmoil and war. The federal government urged those who could leave to buy tickets and evacuate immediately. Those who couldn’t were advised to stay safe and alert.

The ambassador also suggested hanging the federal flag outside their homes or on their doors to show their identity. If trouble arose, they were to call the police or contact the embassy, which would help as much as possible.

As much as possible.

Lance stood by the hotel window. The streets of Zhuolan had grown unstable. Robberies were frequent, and thefts countless.

It felt as if there were an invisible barrier between people. On the streets, everyone kept their distance. If someone approached too quickly, the other would likely turn and run.

Behind Lance, two mine owners, under Vargas’s guidance, were signing a transfer agreement. Both owned copper mines—the largest in Rapa, with the highest output and reserves.

Lance spent only 450,000 Federal Sols to acquire them.

After signing and stamping their thumbprints, the two men exhaled deeply, exchanging glances filled with relief and gratitude. To receive a large sum of money at a time like this and leave Rapa was like hearing the voice of salvation.

The situation in Rapa was worsening by the day. Zhuolan was relatively stable, but the distant regions had descended into chaos.

In a way, Pedro and Ross had set an example for the lower classes, showing them how to resist the times. But not everyone was Pedro or Ross. Most were ordinary, powerless people at the bottom of society.

Expecting them to suddenly awaken was as futile as hoping God truly existed.

Still, the anti-government forces had achieved one thing—they had made society even more chaotic.

Some among the lower class had begun attacking the middle and upper classes. In groups, under the banner of “freedom and human rights,” they stormed the homes of the privileged, beat or killed them, and divided their property.

Society had fallen into madness. The upper class rushed to flee Rapa, gripped by a powerful sense of dread.

This time, Diego couldn’t handle it.