In Kalmar City, the undercurrents of unrest were growing increasingly evident in the slums and poorer districts. After the Marines withdrew from these areas, the once-absent troubadours began to reappear, spreading extreme ideas and inciting the locals. Their rhetoric stoked dissatisfaction with the Marines and the noble rulers, causing resentment to simmer among the people.
Meanwhile, those who had taken advantage of Morgan William's imprisonment to slander him, or who had profited from the temporary withdrawal of the Morgan Group's influence, were mysteriously dying one by one. These victims included gang leaders, mid- and low-ranking officers of the city's garrison, textile factory owners, and government officials. At each crime scene, the only clue left behind was a simple honey badger sketch drawn in blood.
Everyone understood what this meant: revenge, and a warning. Those who held similar positions or succeeded the victims were filled with fear of the remnants of the Morgan Group and dared not risk their lives to investigate. Even if they wanted to, they lacked the capability.
The influence of the Morgan Group and the Marine Headquarters was shifting in the minds of the locals. However, the real turning point came when news of Garp's departure from the city spread.
Watching the once-mighty Marines being led on a wild goose chase by William's forces, even the legendary Garp unable to avoid the chaos, the locals' fear of the Marines began to dissipate.
That said, the tension in the city remained palpable. On the eve of William's execution, while the noble district was enveloped in an atmosphere of lighthearted excitement, the rest of the city was shrouded in oppressive gloom.
Tomorrow was the day of Morgan William's execution. Throughout the city—in the streets, taverns, and homes—people were drinking heavily. For the common folk, it was a way to drown their sorrows. Rumor had it that the prohibition on alcohol would soon be reinstated, and with the worsening economic conditions, the powerless citizens could only numb their nerves with alcohol.
In the slums, the streets were eerily devoid of workers in their uniforms. A rumor had taken root, warning that once William was executed, the freed-up Marines and nobles would launch a massive crackdown in the city. The unemployed workers, often seen wearing their uniforms, were said to be at risk of being mistaken for William's remnants and thrown into prison.
Unlike the commoners, however, the nobles were celebrating. They had already declared their victory. With William set to be executed and military leadership returned to their control, the nobles and high-ranking officers of the military indulged in one banquet after another, toasting their assured triumph.
Amidst this backdrop, under the cover of night, a significant number of William's loyal followers infiltrated key areas of the city. Sporadic gunshots and murders failed to alarm the locals, who had grown numb to such occurrences over the past few days. The resistance faced by William's loyalists was less than expected; the wave of assassinations and terror had left the population paralyzed with fear.
The location for Morgan William's execution had been set at a plaza in the commoner district. The execution platform had long been prepared. By early morning, people began gathering at the site. However, it was still hours before the execution was scheduled to take place. The main Marine forces had yet to arrive, leaving only a few soldiers to monitor the Transponder Snails and a handful of garrison troops guarding the platform.
Those who arrived early were naturally concerned about William's fate. Among them was Felisk, who had brought his elder sister along. With most of their neighbors and friends attending the execution, Felisk couldn't bear to leave his sister, who had a mental condition, home alone. He had no choice but to bring her with him.
As more people gathered, the atmosphere grew increasingly heavy. Despite the crowd, the plaza remained eerily quiet. Felisk held tightly to his sister's hand, ensuring she didn't wander off.
As the execution hour drew closer, a commotion broke out on the outskirts of the crowd. People turned to see a group of young nobles, flanked by a contingent of burly guards, forcing their way to the front near the platform.
Naturally, the execution platform had no VIP section. Only King Norton I and the kingdom's top officials had designated spots for the event. However, the nobles, reveling in their victory, wanted prime positions to witness the death of Morgan William—the man they blamed for their suffering.
Unlike Felisk and others who had arrived early to secure a good spot, these nobles showed up late and found the best positions already taken. Unwilling to stand at the back, they ordered their guards to push their way forward, shoving commoners aside to claim spots near the platform.
The pushed and jostled commoners glared at the nobles with anger, but in broad daylight, no one dared confront the rulers who had regained control of the kingdom.
Felisk, a loyal supporter of William, had arrived early and secured a good spot. But now, he too was being pushed aside by the nobles. Though his arm throbbed with pain from being yanked, he didn't dare protest and prepared to step aside quietly.
However, Felisk's sister didn't understand the situation. With the mind of a child, she flailed her arms and screamed loudly as she was shoved, her cries drawing the ire of the young nobles. One of them, irritated by the commotion, shouted at his guards, "You useless fools! Shut her up!"
The guards, already annoyed by her cries and scratches, obeyed the order without hesitation. One of them slapped Felisk's sister across the face. Seeing this, Felisk's eyes reddened with rage. He stepped in front of his sister, shielding her as he tried to say something to the guards. Before he could speak, however, he was punched to the ground.
Felisk's sister, clutching her cheek, crouched down to help him up, her face full of grievance.
The guard glared menacingly at the siblings on the ground. But when he looked up, he noticed that the surrounding commoners had begun to gather, forming a loose circle around them.
From the back of the crowd, someone shouted, "You've already taken our spots! Why are you hitting people?!"
The young noble, unfazed by the growing crowd, sneered at the commoners. Having lived in the noble district, which was heavily guarded by the Marines and garrison troops, he had been insulated from the chaos that had gripped the rest of the city. To him, the victory was already secured, and Morgan William's remnants had been captured. Everything was settled. The unrest in the slums and commoner districts was of no concern to him.
Moreover, the indifference of the commoners as he and his entourage had forced their way forward only emboldened him.
Nearby, Basco, the garrison sergeant in charge of security, noticed the growing crowd around Felisk and the nobles. Sensing trouble, he quickly led his troops into the throng to protect the young noble and his guards.
With the arrival of the garrison troops, the young noble's arrogance grew. His guards, who had momentarily felt uneasy, regained their confidence.
The noble glared at the commoners and shouted, "So what if I hit him? If you filthy peasants don't back off right now, I'll have my men beat all of you too!"
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
📚 BOOK COMPLETED ON PATREON!📚
This story has reached its conclusion on my Patreon!
🔥 Full story available now
💎 Exclusive bonus content & early access to new books
👉 Join my Patreon community today!
[✨ patreon.com/GoldenLong]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━