The newly promoted Baron and commander of the garrison forces, Diaz, was rudely awakened by the shrill ringing of the telephone.
Groggily, he opened his eyes, dark circles under them, and struggled to rise from the embrace of two naked women lying beside him on the luxurious bed. Picking up the phone, his languid demeanor disappeared instantly when the voice on the other end informed him of the riot at the execution platform.
"This is bad... This is really bad..." Diaz muttered repeatedly, sweating profusely as he scrambled to find his clothes. The two courtesans attempted to flirt with him further, only to be slapped away mercilessly.
Not long after, Diaz was dressed and on his way to the garrison barracks. En route, he was joined by a corpulent noble who had been the one to inform him of the situation, arriving in a horse-drawn carriage.
The riot instigated by Basco and his men at the execution platform had been immediately reported by the Marines stationed there to Vice Admiral Dalmatia at command headquarters. However, Dalmatia did not deploy the already limited Marine forces, instead notifying King Norton I and the nobles, urging them to dispatch troops to suppress the mob.
The news that a young noble had been shot dead by the rioters sent alarm bells ringing among the king and his ministers. The Minister of Defense promptly called Diaz, who had been lured to the nobles' side with promises of titles and riches, demanding that he mobilize the garrison forces and crush the rebellious mob.
Diaz, who had been enjoying privileges and luxuries far beyond his imagination since William's imprisonment, was now firmly aligned with the nobles. He was deeply concerned and hostile toward the events at the execution platform. Upon arriving at the barracks, he immediately ordered the soldiers to assemble on the parade ground while he anxiously waited on the podium with the newly appointed Minister of Defense.
Since his elevation to nobility, Diaz no longer lived in the barracks. He had purchased a mansion in the noble district, indulging in nightly revelries and occasionally attending or hosting banquets to experience the high society lifestyle.
But this arrangement came with consequences. In emergencies like today, Diaz could not immediately mobilize his troops, missing the optimal window for action. Furthermore, he had lost touch with the internal dynamics and morale of the barracks.
Before long, the garrison soldiers had assembled on the parade ground, standing like statues—expressionless, motionless, and silent—staring at the podium. The Minister of Defense nodded in satisfaction, impressed by their discipline.
Diaz, however, was growing increasingly anxious. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he grabbed the microphone, intending to briefly explain the situation. But before he could speak, the Minister of Defense deliberately coughed, prompting Diaz to hand over the microphone.
Taking the microphone, the Minister of Defense began to speak loudly and indignantly: "Morgan William's accomplices have incited a mob of ignorant fools to riot at the execution platform, even going so far as to kill a noble baron. This act constitutes rebellion! His Majesty the King has issued an order for us to immediately mobilize and suppress these lawless traitors who defy authority and justice!"
When he finished, Diaz took back the microphone and explained the mission to the soldiers, directing several companies to block the passageways from the commoner district to the noble district. He aimed to prevent the rioters from storming the prison where Morgan William was held and frightening the local nobles. He then ordered the troops to deploy.
Yet, despite his orders, the parade ground remained eerily silent. What had previously been a disciplined silence that pleased the Minister of Defense now felt strange and unsettling.
Diaz, looking at the soldiers staring blankly at him, felt a chill creep up his spine.
"What are you standing around for? The city is in the midst of a serious rebellion! As soldiers, it's your duty to act! Why aren't you moving?!"
The Minister of Defense snatched the microphone again, shouting louder and louder until his voice grew hoarse, echoing through the parade ground. But the soldiers remained still. Diaz, standing close to the podium, could see mocking expressions on the faces of some soldiers nearby—expressions that seemed to regard the Minister as nothing more than a clown putting on a show.
"You're right!"
As the Minister's voice faded and the parade ground returned to silence, a loud voice rang out from the back of the formation.
A young man with slightly curly black hair, dressed in the uniform of the royal guard, strode confidently toward the podium, flanked by several equally youthful and agile men.
"Oliver!"
Diaz recognized the approaching figure and shouted uncontrollably. His voice carried through the Minister's microphone, causing the parade ground speakers to buzz noisily.
The man approaching the podium was none other than Oliver, a bold and ambitious swordsman who had once saved Edmond's life. After training at the Isshin Dojo, Oliver had been brought into Morgan William's inner circle and entrusted with significant responsibilities.
Following Oliver were several key members of the Morgan Group who had left the city earlier. Among them were Sabo, his former roommate Hughes Holt, and other officers and staff from the royal guard and command department.
As they moved through the formation, none of the soldiers reacted. It was clear that their appearance had been anticipated.
Oliver smirked coldly, his voice booming: "You're absolutely right! This city is indeed in the midst of a serious rebellion—a rebellion led by a group of outsiders who have imprisoned this country's hero, Morgan William! They've colluded with shameless rats to dismantle his policies, destroy his governance, and drag this nation back into the darkness of corruption! And now..."
Oliver reached the front of the formation and turned back to face the soldiers, his eyes wide with fury, his face flushed red, veins bulging on his neck. Without the aid of a microphone, his voice still thundered across the parade ground: "...Now is the time for you, as soldiers, to fulfill your duty! Why aren't you moving?!"
The soldiers' chests heaved heavily. Sensing the shift, the Minister of Defense reached into his coat and pulled out a revolver.
A blur of blue shot up from the ground.
Sabo, using Shave, swung his steel pipe with force. With a sharp crack, the revolver flew from the Minister's hand, which twisted into an unnatural angle. The Minister's agonized scream was abruptly silenced as Sabo grabbed him by the throat and slammed him onto the podium.
Diaz, now pale and drenched in sweat, trembled violently. He didn't dare move, let alone rescue the Minister.
Oliver sauntered up to the podium, deliberately pausing to glance at the Minister, whose bloated belly still protruded despite being pinned down by Sabo. He then turned his gaze to the visibly shaken Diaz.
"You've never controlled this city," Oliver said disdainfully into the microphone before turning to address the soldiers below. "Now tell these useless fools loudly—who worked tirelessly to lift this country out of poverty? Who brought doctors into every household, ensuring health for all? Who made it possible for your children to learn to read and write, giving them a chance to change their fate? Who brought peace and stability to this land? Who is the true ruler of this city, this country? Who is your leader?!"
The soldiers roared in unison: "MORGAN! STOLT! WILLIAM!"
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