Chapter 371

Upon hearing Nestor's request, Brook frowned in hesitation.

"We currently hold only an advantage, not a true victory; this is not the time to push for the Charter Movement."

"Let us first honor the agreement and complete your assigned duties; once the new nobility recognize your power, the rights you demand will naturally come to you."

Nestor's face remained tense, unmoved by Brook's reply; he continued:

"Sir Brook, since we've mentioned the agreement, I must restate its terms to you."

"I, representing the Lantern and the Charter Movement, helped you generate momentum and secured industrial oversight for you; in return, you recognized the Charter Movement and delegated part of that oversight to the unions."

"Yet in truth, we have done far more—we've sparked multiple large-scale worker uprisings, and even to fulfill this agreement, Henry died in the Great Stink. Meanwhile, I've seen no effort from you whatsoever."

In Stilran, the working class is exceptionally large; though they currently hold no power, some laborers and black-market workers lack even the most basic human rights.

Yet their vast numbers represent equally vast potential.

The Lantern and its three founders are the soul of the Charter Movement; no faction dares ignore this force.

Lacking deep roots themselves, the three founders of the Lantern must rely on external power to achieve their goals amid the shifting alliances.

Henry was the most extreme—he cared only for capability, not motives, so he allied himself with the Steam Council.

Nestor too is a militant, but less radical than Henry; adhering to the principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, he chose to cooperate with the land nobility to oppose Prime Minister Ron and the liberals.

After reaching an agreement with the land nobility, he intended to bring Henry into the fold, but through the land nobility's transcendentals, he discovered Henry had transcendentals of his own working with him.

Nestor feared Henry might ally with dangerous elements—the Quiet Church, extremist followers of the Holy Lord, even foreign powers like Fran—so he closely monitored Henry's actions.

Seeing Henry's activities remained minor and never crossed the line, he chose not to confront him.

Who knew Henry's partner was even more dangerous than he imagined—he pulled off something massive all at once.

Having foreseen Henry's anomaly but failed to stop it in time, Nestor blamed himself for Henry's death and felt he must do something about it.

What he intended was not revenge, but to inherit Henry's ideals and fulfill their shared goal.

Brook sensed Nestor had come prepared; he shook his head slightly, took out his pipe, and spoke slowly:

"It's not that we haven't contributed—we simply lack the ability to do so."

"It's depressing to admit, but we must acknowledge that as Your Majesty Olivia has elevated industry to another level, our legislative power is losing its effect."

Nestor replied without expression:

"Yet according to my knowledge, to ease the general strike, Prime Minister Glad proposed further refining the Factory Act—but the Conservatives and the Upper House have consistently refused."

Brook showed no embarrassment; he said matter-of-factly:

"Workers are short-sighted—you know that better than we do. If conditions improve slightly, they'll abandon resistance and even thank Glad."

Nestor nodded: "So this time, I too will be short-sighted."

Brook looked disappointed. "I thought we had a relationship of mutual trust; I never expected you'd make this choice at the critical moment."

Facing Brook's pressure, Nestor did not retreat:

"Sir Brook, so what is your answer?"

Brook fell silent for a moment, then said:

"As you wish—I will move swiftly to pass the Charter Movement."

Nestor rose and bowed slightly to Brook. "Thank you."

After Nestor left, Brook took out a cigar, lit it slowly, and when the tip burned fully, he drew twice, exhaling a plume of smoke.

His expression vanished into the smoke as he murmured:

"A disobedient tool must be replaced in time."

Before the Great Stink, Nestor's demand might have troubled him.

But now, the tide has turned; those fools have become irrelevant.

They were nothing but lowly rabble—how dare they threaten him? It seems I was too polite; they've forgotten their place.

The smoke slowly cleared, and Brook's grim face suddenly twisted into a smile.

Whatever. They never intended to honor any promise from the start.

Nestor stepped out of the estate and said to his waiting coachman: "Sorry to keep you waiting."

A plain-looking, slender man with the typical face of a lower-class worker replied:

"No problem. Protecting and recording your movements is my duty."

Nestor understood the man's meaning and said: "Don't worry—I'll report everything today to Sir Xiao En."

As he stepped into the carriage, Nestor's face broke into a relieved smile.

On the surface, threatening the Conservatives at this moment seems unwise—but in truth, it's my only chance.

Threats only work when they truly endanger the target.

I once couldn't threaten anyone—even though my pen could stir tens of thousands of workers, it couldn't save my life against transcendentals.

Now it's different: during the Great Stink, Sir Xiao En, while investigating Henry's behind-the-scenes forces, worried for my and Connor's safety and assigned me a transcendent bodyguard.

The coachman driving me now is Sir Xiao En's personal choice.

Though only one transcendent bodyguard, he represents the entire Anquan Force.

I believe that as long as the Conservatives retain reason, they won't dare strike at this powerful, rising transcendent force.

As for whether, after the Chief Justice becomes Prime Minister, they'll retaliate against me and the Lantern and revoke our agreement—I'm not worried.

This morning, when I tried to meet Sir Xiao En, I "accidentally" learned he had visited Minister Anderson. I heard they're close friends.

When he tried to meet with Sir Xiao En this morning, he "happened to" learn that Sir Xiao En had gone to visit Minister of Internal Affairs Anderson, and the two were said to be on very close private terms.

Your Majesty Olivia and Sir Xiao En will never hand the Prime Ministership to those decaying land nobles.

I didn't try to shake off the transcendent bodyguard—I let him drive me to meet Brook—because this was my response to that signal.

The land nobles are careless; they've left me plenty of leverage—for example, the malaria ravaging Grimlan had land nobles behind it.

The landed nobles were not careful in their dealings and left many handles against themselves in his hands; for instance, the great malaria ravaging Grimland had the shadow of the landed nobles behind it.

As long as these intelligence reports are handed over to Xiao En, the Chief Justice's attempt to return to power is nothing but a pipe dream.

This would not only ensure they escape retribution, but also guarantee the success of the Charter Movement.

As Nester pondered how to expose the Conservative Party's crimes to Xiao En and strip the Chief Justice of public support, a player atop a tree near the carriage aimed at the vehicle.

The player was a hundred meters from the carriage—a distance that, in a normal instance, would be no different from face-to-face combat for any player ranked in the top three hundred on the Power List.

But in this instance's realm, steam rules flooded everywhere; unless one possessed Root Power, not even perception could function, let alone projecting energy beyond the body.

Even Jian Xing and Leng Shan would struggle to pierce through a hundred meters and strike a target.

The player on the tree dared to act because his entire right arm now glowed with metallic sheen, transformed into a massive firearm.

His player name was Gun God; his ability was simple—he could turn any part of his body into a firearm.

He ranked 289th on the Power List; in absolute strength, he was weaker than Booker and White Horse, making him the weakest among the players entering the Steam Phantom instance.

Yet under steam rules, untouched by them, he was confident he could challenge any player except those ranked among the elite.

The reason was simple: he could use anti-magic bullets that no other player could deploy.

He grabbed the "material" provided by Brook beside him—a comatose secret police officer—prised open the man's mouth, and shoved dozens of anti-magic bullets inside.

Then, with his left hand, he plunged it into the "material's" chest; his left hand voraciously devoured the "material," whose flesh and blood flowed into his arm, forming a basketball-sized tumor that writhed beneath his skin before finally filling his right-arm firearm.

This was his transmutation skill: "Flesh Bullet."

It could transform a transcendental's flesh into bullets, enhancing their power and imbuing them with certain traits of the original transcendental flesh.

The instant the bullet load was complete, he pulled the trigger; his right-arm firearm fired without sound, but he voiced the effect himself:

"Bang!"

The basketball-sized flesh bullet crossed a hundred meters toward Nester's carriage. The driver, Ma Jia, had been the same man who infiltrated the Gernal Chemical Plant that day; though he could not sense the shooter, when the flesh bullet drew within twenty meters, he immediately sensed its approach.

For other skills, he might have struggled to intercept—but flesh-based techniques? He could block them blindfolded.

In the Wasteland Realm, when it came to flesh techniques, even ranked players were useless.

Today, he would show this opponent the true worth of the "Flesh Invader."

He released his grip on the carriage reins; his left hand elongated into a supple whip and lashed toward the flesh bullet.

The instant his hand touched the flesh bullet, it liquefied into a pulp, fully enveloping it.

When the flesh bullet was five meters from the carriage, ninety percent of its flesh had already been corroded, leaving only a small core.

Just as Ma Jia believed victory was assured, the final core exploded like a grenade—but instead of shrapnel, dozens of triggered anti-magic bullets sprayed outward.

Damn it!

By the time Ma Jia realized, the bullets were less than two meters away; the combined speed of flight and explosion meant, in a blink, he and the entire carriage were riddled with dozens of anti-magic bullets.

A dozen fully armed soldiers slowly approached from both sides, inspected the scene up close, then told Gun God, who walked up behind them:

"They're dead."

Gun God nodded and waved them off: "Clean up the scene is your job."

As a player with mechanical abilities, he loved the Steam Phantom instance—especially now, when steam rules were thick.

With steam rules active, his ambushes were not only hidden, but he had zero fear the victim could transmit any intel to allies.

In past instance runs, he'd always been the firepower dealer; he never imagined he'd one day awaken an assassin talent.

Hands in his pockets, he parted from the soldiers cleaning up, lit a cigarette, and walked toward the city district.

He noticed nothing: within the fog of steam rules he loved most, a tall figure shrouded in a black robe had already locked onto his silhouette.

Thick mist surged from beneath the black robe, engulfing everything within a kilometer.

Soon after, faint screams echoed from within.

That afternoon, the wreckage of the carriage was found on the southern bank of the Hill River; the horse, carriage, driver, and passenger Nester had all been riddled with bullets.

From the scene's traces, a band of mad criminals had fired hundreds of rounds at the carriage.

Based on the trajectory of most bullets, the firearms used matched the model favored by Gail gangsters.

This made sense: the strike's spark was the Sloan Textile Mill incident, and among the most furious groups were textile workers.

Due to Ming Deng News' reporting, many factories in the southern textile district shut down, causing massive losses; it was only natural that some individuals, filled with resentment, hired Gail gangsters for revenge.

The next day, Connor held a funeral for Nester.

Wu Chang and Ma Jia's true bodies both attended the funeral; they stared at Nester's gravestone, solemn, lost in thought.

After the funeral, Connor did not return to Ming Deng News; instead, he said he wanted to be alone, and went to his usual bar.

He ordered three drinks at the bar, but soon found the noise too overwhelming and returned home alone.

He quietly closed the door, did not light the oil lamp, because on the living room sofa, he saw a seated black shadow.

He gritted his teeth, nearly growling: "Who did this?"

A lazy voice emerged from the shadow: "Unless something unexpected happened, it was the Conservatives."

"Nester's body was found on the southern bank of the Hill River, but according to our people, the last place he was seen heading was the West District."

"Every time he went to the West District, he visited a secluded manor—it's one of Justice Gasco's properties. I suspect he went there this time too."

Connor took several deep breaths, trying to quell the fire in his chest, then asked:

"Do you know why?"

The shadow replied: "Nester went there accompanied by transcendental agents from the Anquan Force. Ask me? Better ask Xiao En, or that Peace."

Connor said: "No matter the reason, no matter who stands in my way, I will make those people pay."

The shadow clicked his tongue:

"Your Majesty isn't planning to stop you. She asked me to convey her condolences for Nester, and to remind you—if you want revenge, Nester's home likely holds what you need."

"Thank you." Connor finished. Suddenly, his vision blurred; when he looked again, the black shadow on the sofa was gone.

He lit the oil lamp, walked into the living room, and found the shadow had vanished.

Twenty meters from Connor's house, Wu Chang, Shen Zhi She, and Ma Jia lay hidden in the distance, watching Connor's home.

Not long after Connor returned home, the three of them saw a black shadow leap out through the window of Connor's house.

God's Tongue frowned and said, "What incredible speed — so fast I couldn't even make out what that person looked like."

Ma Jia shook his head as well and said, "I couldn't make it out either."

Although Wu Chang also hadn't been able to see clearly who the black shadow was, he had seen the Origin Power swirling around the figure's body.

"The one who came out of Connor's house was Phantom — why would he have any dealings with Connor?"

As a ranked Player, although Wu Chang wasn't afraid of Phantom, he wouldn't ignore any intelligence concerning him either.

Based on what he had learned earlier, on the day of the Transcendent Gathering, after he left, Phantom had gotten in touch with the chairman of the Trade Committee.

The chairman of the Trade Committee was a core figure of the Liberal Party and a firm supporter of Glad — could it be that the force behind Connor was the Liberal Party?

That didn't add up. In the Charter Movement, Connor was only a Conservative, not a Surrenderist — he shouldn't have been secretly in contact with the Liberal Party behind Henry and Nestor's backs.

Interesting. Once Nestor's matter was settled, he'd ask Connor what was going on.

Wu Chang pulled his thoughts back and asked, "Did they all confess?"

Ma Jia nodded. He glanced at God's Tongue with a hint of wariness and said, "No one can withstand God's Tongue's Truth Serum."

Wu Chang continued, "Confirmed they're Conservatives, right?"

Ma Jia nodded again.

The moment Nestor's clone died, Ma Jia immediately informed Wu Chang of the situation. Wu Chang at once arranged for people to stand guard around Nestor's house and netted every thug who had come to commit arson in one sweep.

After drinking the Truth Serum, they laid everything out crystal clear — the masterminds behind it were Brooke and the Grand Justice, Gascoyne.

They thought that with the Steam Rules as cover, killing to silence witnesses could be done flawlessly. They never expected that the Transcendent escort guarding Nestor that day happened to be Ma Jia, who liked to use parasitic bodies.

According to Ma Jia, the one who struck was a Player, but the opponent could drive Magic-Breaking Bullets through some special method. Under the boost of the Steam Rules, a Player simply couldn't withstand Magic-Breaking Bullets.

The opponent's moves were impossible to guard against. Fortunately, the one following Nestor that day was Ma Jia — if it had been anyone else, apart from God's Tongue and Killing Intent Fluctuation, the others would probably all have had a hard time surviving.

The reason they hadn't told Connor directly was simply to take the opportunity to probe Connor's background — it wasn't that they were truly in the dark.

The Conservative Party killing Nestor was none of his business, but laying hands on his people — that was a slap in his face.

A force built up by a single Player was doing things by the rules, yet a bunch of native-plane aristocratic nobles were the ones ignoring the rules and playing the game of silencing witnesses — that was truly turning heaven and earth upside down.

Since they liked to play, then they'd play it big.

Wu Chang said:

"Tell Shadow and the others to record every high-ranking land noble who supports Gascoyne, and monitor their locations in real time."

"Once Connor publishes his report here and drives down their approval ratings, pick an auspicious day and send them all off together."

(End of Chapter)