[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-shadow-empire":3,"chapter-the-shadow-empire-the-shadow-empire-chapter-992":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},2268612,4428,"Chapter 992: Those Damned Federals","the-shadow-empire-chapter-992",992,"\u003Cp>Pedro demanded the removal of many things; if his requests were followed, the entire camp would be dismantled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For instance, he wanted all the tents taken down—these large pieces of cloth were excellent material for storing wheat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He also demanded all door panels and round objects that could serve as pulleys or wheels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were the primary materials of the camp and tents; once removed, the camp would have nothing left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro demanded this solely to achieve one goal—taking away more grain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Using the tent fabric or other materials, they could carry more grain, then use wooden planks for support, combined with logs or wheels, to transport it more easily through the jungle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many people gathered around; though the camp had existed for only a short time, it had given these people something profound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Home was not merely a place to relax, but an essential emotional anchor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this terrible environment and context, home meant more to some than food.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This word was easy to spell, but the emotion it carried was not easily gained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had spent only a short time together here, yet it ran deep—so deep that merely thinking of dismantling the camp made them feel uneasy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was as if Pedro had suddenly demanded they tear down their own homes; they could not do it—not until they were convinced otherwise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro looked at the gathering crowd and knew he had to say something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After ten seconds, he raised his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet. “This grain is a trap.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone around him instantly widened their eyes, as if unable to believe what he said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only a few showed expressions of understanding or realization.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were not teachers, but parents of students—they had encountered higher social structures and already grasped something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro looked at those still unaware, and spoke softly enough for everyone to hear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This grain comes from the Jede Republic—it is part of the five hundred thousand tons of aid Jede provided to Lapa.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Federals destroyed the railway, derailed the trains; we are, in effect, stealing this aid grain.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Undoubtedly, this grain belongs to Diego!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he spoke Diego’s name, the previously restless crowd fell utterly silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Zolan Massacre had occurred not long ago; perhaps the stench of blood still lingered near Zolan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The psychological trauma from that bloody massacre was not easily healed; its lingering manifestation was fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deep fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had they stolen Diego’s wealth?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some trembled, gripping nearby objects, unable to stand steady.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their faces showed shock, disbelief, unease, and terror.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some even spoke out: “Maybe… we should return this grain?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some turned to the speaker—a man of fifty or sixty, hunched and emaciated, as if he might collapse at any moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro shook his head. “Even if you return the grain, Diego will still kill you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“His brutality—I’m sure you all know it. Do you think he’ll spare you because you returned the grain, or because he didn’t find it in our camp?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He won’t!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He’ll ask you: Why didn’t you stop them? Are you one of them?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then he’ll kill you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice was loud—this time, everyone heard it. He looked at the dark sea of faces around him; he didn’t know exactly how many had gathered, only that there were many.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So many that he felt—if they united, they could overcome any hardship!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It reminded him of Lans’s words during those seven days: “Unity is strength.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes—if they united, they gained the power to break the class structure!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And can you continue enduring hunger?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Can you endure it while your family, children, parents, partners starve?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hunger’s damage will haunt you for life. Even if you survive today, what about tomorrow?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And the day after?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You can’t endure it forever!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Someone says, ‘Wait until autumn—it’ll get better.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But among these thousand brothers and sisters, among the old and the young, how many can wait until autumn?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What if things don’t improve by autumn?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A string of questions silenced everyone. The situation was truly dire; no one dared claim they could survive until harvest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had also heard rumors: some places had eaten their seed grain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like digging up potatoes from the ground—so long as they weren’t too green, they’d toss them in a pot and eat them anyway.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to death, hunger was far more torturous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one spoke. Silence reigned. But Pedro knew: this was an opportunity—a chance to solidify his authority.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Now, the choice is in your hands.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Will you choose to avoid provoking Diego and his army, to endure hunger, and wait—unknowing—until your organs fail and you return to God’s embrace?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Or will you choose to live, to survive, to fight for your future—to take this grain and tell Diego and his army to go to hell?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The choice is yours.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you want to leave, leave now—I won’t stop you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But those who stay, I won’t tolerate talk of giving up, of surrendering, of abandoning this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you wish to submit, if you wish to give up, you may leave at any time.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I won’t beg you to stay—but I ask you not to spread despair or panic before you go.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Otherwise!”—his gaze swept the crowd—“I will punish you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned to those he trusted in the group. “Boil the wheat. Cook all of it. We eat first, then move out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His colleague was confused by his sudden decision. “Won’t this waste time?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Cooking will take at least thirty to forty minutes…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro shook his head. “Thirty or forty minutes won’t let us make a round trip—and I have no intention of staying here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He spoke loudly, not hiding his words from the crowd; he openly declared his intent to leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This place was too close to the scene. The military might discover them and bring utter ruin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rather than stay here, praying Diego’s men wouldn’t find our traces near the railway and track us down,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s better to leave quickly. At least now, our danger is greatly reduced.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a moment’s thought, his colleague stopped opposing and chose to support him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During this process, some indeed could not bear the terrifying consequences and left voluntarily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro respected their choice; no group could ever have only one voice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People come, people go—that is normal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who come and never leave? Unrealistic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who left were only a small fraction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire camp fell silent until the cooked wheat was carried to the center.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Large pots of wheat porridge firmly held everyone’s attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wouldn’t fill them, but it was enough to give them something before they departed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No strange or mixed foods—only simple boiled wheat kernels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet precisely this simplest thing radiated the most deadly allure at this moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The boiled wheat had no additives; its pure, rich aroma alone made many squirm in their seats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They took whatever containers they had and began lining up spontaneously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ladle stirred the pot; wheat kernels mixed with water, churning and boiling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wheat kernels burst open, many splitting, continuously churning, their scent spreading—now it was porridge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its thickness and rich aroma held everyone’s gaze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since last November, they had not eaten such a “proper” meal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most meals mixed in other foods to increase fullness, prolong hunger resistance, and reduce grain waste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>How long had it been since these people—or most of Lapa—had eaten a normal lunch or dinner?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro took a bowl for himself and savored it slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The humble aroma of the wheat kernels carried an unimaginable, irresistible power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone ate in silence—this was the best meal they’d had in days.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only wheat kernels—no stones, no sand, no weeds, no broken wood fibers, no…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just this simple bowl of boiled wheat kernels was enough to make a decision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Someone asked, “Will we always have wheat to eat?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro clenched his fist. “Not just wheat—vegetables and meat too!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd’s mood surged visibly after his words; they ate faster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did a better tomorrow lie just ahead?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching them eat so intently, Pedro shook his head slightly and began enjoying his own portion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He could sense people’s confusion—he himself was just as lost.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lunch took exactly one hour to finish; then everyone began moving. The entire camp was dismantled. Pedro had said that after receiving the food, they would never return—this place was abandoned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Standing outside the camp, Pedro cast one final look at the ruined encampment and walked away without turning back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At dinner that night, Diego remembered this matter. As he savored his seared beefsteak, he asked his butler, “I recall Jide said their food aid was supposed to arrive today, correct?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler bowed slightly. “Yes, Master.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler’s confirmation made Diego set down his knife and fork in confusion. He glanced at the clock, then turned to look at the butler. “But it’s already seven—why hasn’t anyone told me the train has arrived?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wasn’t a question asking the butler to explain what had happened—it was an order: go find out what happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler answered immediately, “I’ll find out at once.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Diego nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Do it quickly. I dislike feeling out of control.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He picked up his knife and fork again and began slicing the freshly seared beefsteak.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Being president is exhausting. Things never unfold, develop, or end as he wishes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like the sudden appearance of the Federals!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their presence has made Diego lose his appetite more and more—especially Lans’s group, who dared to threaten him!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he had absolutely no way to respond, and it left him seething with frustration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only food—only food was good for him. It never troubled him and always satisfied his appetite.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The steak was tender; with the coordinated motion of knife and fork, it sliced easily. Diego’s movements were remarkably agile—this was one of the few things he did exceptionally well.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His fork speared a piece of beef, coated it in the sauce on the plate, and slipped it into his mouth. The exquisite sensation brought a faint smile to Diego’s face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In that moment, all his troubles vanished!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No fat man is born from hunger—he’s built by food, and Diego was no exception.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others might be satisfied with one serving of steak; he needed a “large portion”—at least a pound, possibly more.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Add to that other foods, and he easily consumed far too much during what he considered “not a large” lunch or dinner. He didn’t feel he ate much—but he truly ate a great deal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Budebushuo , dining was joyful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After about fifteen minutes, the butler returned to the table with a serious expression. He walked to Diego’s side, bent low, bowed his head, and said nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Diego noticed the butler’s demeanor—he had already prepared himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After swallowing the juice in his mouth, he asked without turning around, “Well?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Where is my food?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After two seconds of silence, the butler said, “They departed from the border region’s… supply depot this morning. At the train’s speed, it should have reached the transfer station by afternoon, and arrived in Zolan before dawn tomorrow.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Diego set down his juice. “Should have?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The butler bowed lower, head down. “They’re gone now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No train has been seen at the transfer station so far. Perhaps something happened on the way!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Diego’s expression darkened sharply. “Then send people to find it!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The army moved quickly. Though they had yet to locate the train or determine its condition, Diego had a feeling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Someone had stolen his food!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Always this. Always this!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since those damned Federals came to Lamen, nothing has gone right for him!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He slammed his fist onto the table, making the empty plates jump.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn Federals!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1935,"2026-06-19T21:10:31.886Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","dbfa7938940c2eb9ceed8b6d2d2d5cd5cd5c440b165955968944cfb8fb4da6db","the-shadow-empire-chapter-993","the-shadow-empire-chapter-991",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-shadow-empire-cover.jpg"]