Chapter 942: Quagmire, Disappointment, and Annoyance

The two copper mine transfer agreements.

Lance glanced at them. All the names had already been signed. From this moment on, these two copper mines belonged to Lance.

But Lance did not plan to operate them himself. Copper mines were different from silver and gold. Copper had a major impact on industry and was a sensitive war resource. Holding it was not necessarily a blessing.

Greed for something you should not be greedy for often plants the seeds of future disaster.

Besides, the profit from these copper mines’ output had not yet reached the point of moving him. So he did not put his name on the mines; he planned to sell them to domestic mining giants, or let Senator Cleveland distribute them.

Two copper mines with steady output would definitely attract the attention of upstream industry conglomerates. The benefits from trading them would far exceed those of holding them.

Lance placed the agreements in his special briefcase, walked to the desk, and shook hands with the two former mine owners who had completed the transfer. He did not say much, and there was no need to. Lance did not intend to form deep friendships with them.

After a few polite words, he had someone see them off.

In the past few days, more members of the Federal families had arrived. After the guests left, they came out of the next room and stood by Lance’s side.

"It's a bit boring," Hiram said, blowing at his slanted bangs.

Recently he had learned a new move. Previously he would toss his head to flick his hair aside and reveal his eyes. Lately, from God knows where, he had learned to pucker his lips and blow upward so the airflow would lift his bangs with minimal movement. He was almost obsessed with it.

Beside Lance, every two or three minutes you could hear a "pssh" as Hiram did it.

Lance had scolded him, but it seemed useless.

Lance glanced at him sideways, a little disdainful. "It wouldn’t be boring if you blew your hair less. To be honest, I prefer when you flick your hair. At least then you don’t distract me."

The others stifled laughter. Hiram’s bangs were thick; blowing them made a noise. As long as he was in the room and kept blowing his hair, that sound would keep returning to Lance’s mind.

Hiram raised his hands and blew his hair. "I'll try to be quieter."

Lance shook his head, knowing it was pointless, then answered his earlier question. "You’ll be busy soon."

He looked out at the chaotic street below and saw two women walking together when a few people rushed over. Clad in simple clothes that hid their faces, they snatched the women’s belongings and two men grabbed at their waists and began dragging them into an alley.

They clearly needed money and needed to vent.

Lance’s gaze stayed on them. The others followed his stare.

Hiram whooshed and blew his hair. "Want me to go down and teach them a lesson?"

Lance shook his head. "No, there’s no need."

"We can save those two women, but we can’t save everyone. Rapa will keep getting worse before a new order is established."

He looked around the room. "Wait a little longer. In a few days you’ll have a new job."

Someone asked, "I don’t quite understand, boss. What are we waiting for?"

Lance shrugged. "Waiting for the first victim, the first person to do something stupid, and waiting for someone who recognizes reality."

Hiram shook his head. He did not fully understand, but he did not much care. It was enough that Lance did.

In the past few days Ambassador Cassia had called Lance. He said he had done his part. As for whether those gentlemen would contact Lance, he could not guarantee it. He briefly gave his opinion.

For the ruling group, the situation in Rapa was not yet completely out of control. They were waiting for the moment the final shift revealed itself, and only then would they choose a side. Before a clear improvement or further collapse, they were unlikely to make an immediate decision.

In the Federation’s financial books there is a special title: "The Secret to Winning in Investment: Chase the Rise, Kill the Fall." Some see it as market advice, but Lance read it as human nature facing choice: chase gains, destroy losses. The larger the foundation, the more people behave like this.

To bet everything before the situation changes is a gamble on an uncertain future. Don’t be fooled by apparent binary choices. Without analysis, the probability of losing may far exceed the chance of winning.

People in the ruling group could not bet blindly. They would wait for a clearer trend before deciding.

So Lance still had to wait a little longer, though not for long. Pedro’s momentum was growing and Diego was increasingly eager to crush him. Pedro had become a banner among anti-government forces; more people were spontaneously resisting, inspired by his deeds.

Whether the resistance was for human rights and freedom or simply to vent selfish desires did not matter. What mattered was that this rebellion had momentum. More places were losing control. If they didn’t curb Pedro’s rise, Diego might leave Rapa.

They had to hit these forces hard to show that, at least for now, Rapa was not theirs to command.

The troops originally planned at 5,000 with some artillery were increased to 8,000, and ten cannons were added.

The reason for the increase was that the military analysis found Pedro had gained a huge boost in weapons after the last attack. The military had not dared tell Diego the full data, fearing his wrath.

Two thousand guns had been left unaccounted for. A few hundred more were found later, but over a thousand guns had disappeared. It was very likely they had been taken by Pedro’s men.

So many weapons could arm another thousand fighters. Pedro’s group had become the strongest anti-government force in Rapa.

If the federal warship in the bay were not in "repair," Diego would have sent more troops to suppress the rebellion.

In early April, Rapa’s weather had warmed to about twenty degrees. The government army was already approaching Saige City.

This time they were cautious. Even at night they arranged patrols and mobile sentries to avoid surprise attacks.

After dawn, reconnaissance returned news that left people unsure whether to be depressed or relieved—Pedro and his forces had withdrawn from Saige City.

Now the shadows of those fighters could no longer be seen anywhere in the city. In other words, Saige City had been successfully "recaptured."

Without casualties or resource expenditure, they had taken the city back. The military officers smiled.

But to confirm the intelligence, the front-line commander did not immediately report to Diego. He planned to enter and inspect first.

He sent more than two hundred men to the city hall. Outside they found the former mayor hanging from a lamppost, and some local celebrities of Saige City—the large landlords and big capitalists—crowded nearby. The mayor occupied his own position, while the others were bundled together in twos and threes.

The soldiers removed the bodies and entered City Hall to search. They found no anti-government forces or related signs. It seemed Pedro’s men had indeed left.

Then the troops moved into the city. Their official reason was to clean up any remaining anti-government fighters and stabilize security. In truth, only they knew their full intent.

The frontline commander reported the news to Diego. Diego, hearing it, sighed with relief and ordered them to find where Pedro’s men had gone and whether they could follow and kill them.

What made Diego happy was not merely that Saige City seemed retaken, but that Pedro’s group clearly feared the larger government army. It meant things were still under control.

What Diego did not know was that Pedro had not left Saige City; he was still there.

Hidden behind a curtain gap, Pedro watched the soldiers entering the wealthy district and spat out the core of a ubiquitous local grass he had been chewing. He observed a while, then withdrew his gaze.

Letting the enemy into the city was a tactic suggested by a military instructor from the Federation.

Because Pedro had repelled the first counterattack, Lance had agreed to some conditions, including support from "military experts." These experts were not flamboyant celebrities; they analyzed federal campaigns in the war against Dantra. They might lack frontline experience, but their theoretical knowledge was sound.

Even if they were imperfect, the casualties would not be federal soldiers, so there would be no guilt for them.

This time the government army came with strong momentum. After assessing strengths, both sides reached a conclusion: without newer weapons and equipment—artillery, shells, landmines, explosives—it would be hard to defeat the government army.

The government had artillery, mobility, and heavy firepower. Their units had taken the mission seriously. Pedro’s side was largely composed of rookies who did not grasp war’s cruelty. If losses exceeded psychological limits, they would collapse.

Until now they had been ordinary people—protagonists of their own small lives who had not considered dying. When comrades began to fall, fear would follow, then rout and death. Running away could save some lives, but it would cost the title of "number one."

That title carried huge value.

Also, escape might not even be possible.

The federal military experts suggested luring government troops into the city to fight street battles in complex urban terrain. Pedro and his commanders agreed.

Now, Pedro had a home-field advantage. While not sufficient for outright victory, it would maximize attrition and fear. In street fighting, both sides mingle and artillery loses much of its role—unless commanders planned to risk friendly fire and kill their own men.

Another advantage was dispersal. Newly recruited fighters would be broken into small squads. If a team snapped after a comrade’s death, it would not collapse the whole force.

This way a small loss would not lead to mass flight.

The federal army had fought street battles before, and their experts offered valuable advice.

In the end, Pedro decided to let the government army in and engage in close-quarters urban combat.

That was why the illusion of their retreat had appeared. In fact, they had been waiting for the right moment.

After confirming that Pedro’s men had supposedly left Saige City, the government troops relaxed. They advanced from the city edge toward the rich district.

The residents here were wealthy; there were shops and goods. Pedro’s men could not have looted every last thing. A few valuables would suffice for soldiers who risked coming here.

Some soldiers, under the pretext of searching for anti-government elements, pushed open the door of an apartment. The decoration was high-end and the place empty.

These men would never afford such a house in peacetime. Now they were eager to explore.

One soldier walked to the center of the room and found a briefcase on a cabinet. It was unlocked.

"Look what I’ve found," he said, surprised.

The briefcase itself was expensive, so the soldiers guessed the contents might be valuable. They gathered and, without hesitation, prepared to open it.

A soldier with some prestige placed his rifle beside the briefcase and used both hands to open it. When he encountered resistance, he only increased his force.

When the briefcase snapped open, they saw a rope hanging from the lock and three pull rings. Three round, gleaming objects were tied together.

Their brains had not yet processed the sight when an explosion ripped through the room.

The shockwave hurled them against furniture and walls. Shrapnel tore holes through their bodies. They were dead before they hit the floor.

The blast in the rich district immediately alarmed the officers in City Hall. The front-line commander had not yet organized the next stage when he heard the explosion. He walked to the window and looked toward the nearby block. The others followed.

"What happened?" he asked, but none could answer.

Then gunfire erupted across the city.

At first a few shots, then an endless roar as if someone were shooting from every corner.

Street battles are cruel, full of traps. You never know how to stay safe. Greed and desire had become the fuse for destruction. Any ornament, any object could be rigged to explode.

Gunfire and blasts turned the once-quiet city into a chaotic scene few could accept.

The density of shots made the commander realize that Pedro’s men had not left. They had hidden.

It wasn’t only Diego who noticed; almost every force was watching.

The Ravila family had ruled Rapa for so long that the result of this battle would largely determine the country’s future.

Street fighting is not easy to end. Gradually people began to feel annoyed at the internal turmoil and at Diego’s ability to govern.

The dark clouds overhead did not clear with the storm; if anything, they thickened.