[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-shadow-empire":3,"chapter-the-shadow-empire-the-shadow-empire-chapter-982":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Shadow Empire",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2268602,4428,"Chapter 982: The Shattered Are Not Just Prejudices and Stereotypes","the-shadow-empire-chapter-982",982,"\u003Cp>Standing beneath the hotel, Ross looked up at the fifteen-story building, one of the tallest in Lapan, and felt a faint, inexplicable tremor in his chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a lowborn standing here, about to step into this hotel, had its owner, its operators, its managers ever imagined this day?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He felt every cell in his body quivering, rejoicing!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today he would do something extraordinary… no, not just one thing, but many.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among them: shattering the labels and chains this damned society had imposed upon them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A fierce longing surged through him—the desire to walk in right now, to soil this hotel’s pristine floor with his muddy, filthy boots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Destruction is humanity’s most primal desire, written as deeply into our genes as lust, carved into our bones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Boss…” A young voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see the youth beside him, holding several pistols.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What do we do with these?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their group had several pistols too. Ross pulled out his own, ejected the magazine, and saw only two bullets left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hesitated no longer, compared his pistol with the others, confirmed they were the same model, and ordered the bullets removed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Keep the pistols among yourselves. Hand over the bullets to us first. When we find more ammo, you can refill.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some of his coworkers’ faces lit up with surprise—pistols were rare in Lapan, too expensive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A single pistol like this sold for at least seven or eight thousand Pala on the black market; a good one could fetch ten thousand!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Giving them pistols meant giving them a fortune—how could they not be thrilled?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even without bullets, they were still worth a fortune.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unconsciously, Ross had won over these men.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those given pistols would now cluster tightly around him, becoming his loyal subordinates.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the factory, Ross had always been like this—he never deliberately tried to win anyone over. He simply acted according to his own instincts, and people naturally trusted him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wounded were now carried before him—over twenty injured, some critically, lying on the ground, their breaths growing shallower as they stared at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were gunshot wounds—bullets had pierced their chests; they were clearly dying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others had lighter injuries—struck by bullets in non-vital areas.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knelt before those on the verge of death, meeting their eyes. In their gazes flowed a desperate thirst for life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If they could speak, they would beg Ross to save them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I will take care of your families.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They died painfully—death from external trauma always was.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ruptured blood vessels filled their lungs with blood, or caused hemorrhaging and air leakage in the abdominal cavity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The former died by suffocation—the most terrifying way to die, for you feel every moment of terror and agony as you slowly, helplessly, approach death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The latter suffered too—ruptured organs, unbearable abdominal pain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If the organs ruptured completely, death came quickly through hemorrhagic shock, sparing further suffering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if the intestines or similar organs were hit, they endured prolonged agony before dying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One man gripped his clothes tightly, eyes bulging as if trying to speak, yet uttered nothing—his short, unhappy life ended.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another stared wide-eyed, face flushed purple, unable to die despite his agony.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing his suffering, Ross reached out and covered his mouth and nose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man struggled, but his strength was gone—now he could only watch helplessly as this horror unfolded before him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Less than a minute later, he was dead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross slowly stood, looked down at his hands, then at the others around him. “They died for us—for our cause. Remembering them and what they did is the greatest respect we can show ourselves!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused. “Record their names. We will care for their families.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He glanced at the other wounded, asked if they could keep up, then gestured toward the hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A large crowd surged into the hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the first time in their lives they had entered the Lapan Grand Hotel. They had heard stories about it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like how the second floor housed shops with imported goods—but only foreign currency was accepted; they didn’t take Pala.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This effectively barred all ordinary people from shopping here, since Lapan’s national bank never exchanged any foreign currency.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They’d heard the restaurants on the fourth and fifth floors served the best food on Earth, prepared by Lapan’s most famous chefs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They’d heard too much about this place—but they could never enter it… until today.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross’s muddy, filthy boots stepped onto the mirror-polished marble floor. A quiet smile crept onto his lips—the grief over his fallen comrades washed clean in this moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t even describe how it felt!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others stared at the floor, reflective as a mirror, unsure how to step. Some feared soiling or damaging it, hesitating to enter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross didn’t care. He strode into the lobby. Several female receptionists trembled behind the counter, heads bowed, not daring to look up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A few foreign tourists, still trapped, stood pale in the corners with their guides. Some feigned calm, sitting on sofas, convinced these people wouldn’t harm them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross’s gaze flickered over them briefly, then quickly locked onto a man who looked like hotel staff.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After extracting the building’s floor functions from him, Ross immediately led his group to the fourth floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fourth floor was the restaurant, with a large storage room said to hold vast quantities of food.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the stairs, Ross assigned tasks: some would search the fourth floor for food—anything edible, take as much as they could carry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others would go to the second and third floors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>According to the staff, those floors held multiple shops, including jewelry stores.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross wasn’t sure if he was Lans’s smartest student, but he knew he wasn’t the dumbest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The knowledge he’d absorbed over those seven days had opened a new door, revealing an entirely new world to him!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew: no matter what you did, you needed money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Doing good required money—you needed people to know you’d done good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Doing bad also required money—because evil isn’t done alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everything required money—including what he intended to do. He needed money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He went up to the second floor himself. As soon as he entered, he and his men were stunned by the dazzling array of goods.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They’d never seen so many imports. Each item bore foreign currency prices—each one a fortune to them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, Ross found the shop he wanted: a jewelry store.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several clerks were removing jewels from display cases, apparently preparing to lock them in a safe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Ross and his men, they moved faster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross frowned and shouted, “Stop!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one listened. The clerks moved even faster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had no choice—he drew his pistol and fired.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A gunshot rang out. One man fell. The rest froze like broken toys, hands raised, motionless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ross walked over, unfastened the grain sack tied at his waist, and began dumping trays of jewelry into it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those around him breathed heavily. The jewels glinted under the lights, their fire holding their gaze captive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Money. Wealth. For the first time, it appeared before them in tangible form.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Things they’d never dreamed of owning were now within reach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In just a few days, everyone’s perception of the world—and of themselves—had shattered and remade itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This… was awakening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After Ross and his group left the lobby, those waiting to scavenge rushed in. The people inside still celebrated having survived—unaware the true horror had only just begun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hand over everything you’ve got!” A young man, around twenty-four or twenty-five, waved a dagger at a foreigner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His face was fierce, yet nervous, eyes darting. He was terrified. “Don’t try anything!” He glanced at the man’s watch. “Take off your watch.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The foreigner looked at his watch and shook his head. “No. This… this was my mother’s gift.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I can’t give it to you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man glanced around. Sweat covered his face. He was alone. He didn’t know if someone else might come to steal his target.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped forward, grabbed the foreigner’s arm, trying to wrench the watch off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the foreigner struggled violently—he couldn’t get it loose. Seeing others turn their attention, he hardened his heart and plunged the dagger into the man’s body several times.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Instantly, the foreigner stopped struggling. He stared in disbelief at the young man, then let him try to remove the watch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His gaze fixed on himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wounds began bleeding. His white shirt soaked through with blood in moments. He slumped against the wall, sitting on the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man used both hands, but still couldn’t remove the watch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t know how to open the clasp—only pulled with force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, pulling wouldn’t work.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His actions drew attention. When others saw he was trying to steal a watch, more people gathered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watches were absolute luxuries in Lapan—even the cheapest, worth only ten or twenty Federal Sol in the Federation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lapan lacked the technology and craftsmanship to produce them. All were imported.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Import quotas were controlled by Diego. Even a ten-dollar Federal Sol watch sold here for tens of thousands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Too expensive?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Don’t buy it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These things were never meant for the poor. At least a middle-class person had the right to wear a watch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, some in Lapan made money smuggling goods back and forth—but after a brutal purge, they vanished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Here, you can do anything—just don’t touch the ruling elite’s interests.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, they’ll take care of you.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Getting this watch means he’ll have a long stretch of good days ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The more anxious he became, the harder it was to remove the watch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The foreigner was already on the verge of death, continuously pleading and promising to give the watch to them, but the young man only kept trying to tear it off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, several more people arrived. “Hand over the watch.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young man glared fiercely at the foreigner, then stood up and slowly backed away before leaving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The four young men crouched down. They didn’t know how to open the watchband. The foreigner continued begging, asking them to find a doctor or take him to the hotel’s medical room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But these men only cared about searching his pockets and dealing with the watch, paying no attention to his injuries.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire first-floor lobby descended into chaos. The brief gunfire outside the hotel had drawn more attention, and more refugees began flooding in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They took everything, stuffing anything they could into their pockets, and kept moving upward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They knew those living here were either foreigners or the wealthy—all premium resources.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>News of the attack on La Pa Grand Hotel and the influx of refugees spread quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The grand hotel was nominally a “private enterprise,” but in reality, it was a business owned by Diego and several ministers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>La Pa’s privileged and middle classes needed a place like this for consumption—it functioned as a combined commercial and residential hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had an opera house, shops, a swimming pool, a small amusement park, and restaurants serving delicious food prepared by foreign chefs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The profits here were extremely substantial.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, it had “fallen.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thought of his wealth inside being looted by refugees made Diego’s face twist with rage!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For the first time, he was this furious!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When will the army enter the city?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler glanced at his pocket watch. “Five more hours, Master.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler paused. “The federal diplomatic delegation and Mr. Lans White are still inside the hotel. Should we assign personnel to protect their safety?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The presidential palace still had five hundred soldiers guarding its security—there was certainly surplus manpower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Against rioters armed with only a few pistols, five hundred soldiers might not suppress them all, but holding a single location from disturbance was still feasible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even reducing some personnel would be fine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Diego shook his head in refusal. “Lans’s people look dangerous. They might handle those people without us lifting a finger.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just take care of our own. Even if they’re harmed, the Alliance will bear the blame—it’s none of our concern.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler bowed slightly and dropped the subject.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew his president had no fondness for federal people—he harbored a quiet hostility toward them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans was quietly reading a book on philosophy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a book written by a La Pa native, claiming “from the moment of birth, life is a ‘cultivation’,” and comparing existence to a lifelong process of diligent practice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The book also mentioned the concept of “reincarnation,” but not in the simple, clear way Lans understood it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this book, after death, a soul remained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The soul would be weighed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those whose weight met the required standard would be reborn as a new person.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who failed the standard would be judged, tortured, and tormented until all their sins were atoned for—or else suffer endlessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ruling classes always needed tools to deceive the masses; religion and faith were undoubtedly the most convenient and effective.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially in regions with low education levels, where people couldn’t explain or comprehend many things, blaming everything on “the will of God” was simpler and more convincing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading for a while, he shook his head. He’d thought it might be a book of some value, but halfway through, he saw its manipulation of values.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How’s it going below?” He rose and walked to the bookshelf, returning the book to its place, then asked casually.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ma Duoer’s voice was heavy and muffled. “All floors below the tenth have fallen. Some federal people have been injured. We don’t fully understand the situation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Should we intervene now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans shook his head. “As long as they don’t bother us, leave them be.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused. “Do you know who led the group that came in earlier? Where are they now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ma Duoer shook his head. “We haven’t made contact yet. Should I reach out?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans considered for a moment, then shook his head. “Never mind. We’ll find out soon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2297,"2026-06-19T21:10:31.886Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","e5cf1a7caa06d7ee43a8af9cc6ee4a2cb8ed0568bdad38cc639e4df77b53c786","the-shadow-empire-chapter-983","the-shadow-empire-chapter-981",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-shadow-empire-cover.jpg"]