Munitions Empire

In the former City Lord's Mansion of a small town in the southern part of the Tang Kingdom, the office, now retrofitted with glass, was exceptionally bright.

Sunlight fell upon the original City Lord's vast desk, warming its surface and making it extremely comfortable to rest one's elbows upon.

A young man and an older man sat facing each other, a large stack of unprocessed documents lying before them. However, one was reviewing the files while the other was talking.

"My lord, please be mindful of your safety. You've impacted these people's interests, and they definitely won't leave you be," an official who served as the deputy warned gravely, a native of Zheng Country.

As an experienced official of Zheng Country, he knew the ropes. He was aware that if someone didn't play along with the script of the powerful clans, they were likely to make the non-cooperative individual suffer an "accident."

Just yesterday, their governing council had unilaterally begun to audit taxes, and half a month prior, they had forbidden local clans from keeping slaves, simultaneously issuing orders to confiscate weapons from the hands of the local nobility and to disband their private guards.

This series of executive orders caused almost every person who wielded real power locally and influenced the economy to suffer.

The former Zheng Country official, who had served in this place for years, heard some rumors last night. He learned that the local clans and magnates were already impatient and prepared to show the new, merely twenty-three-year-old governor a lesson.

"I didn't come here to haggle with them. If they cooperate, I will share profits with them. If not, they can piss off!" the young man replied without lifting his head from the accounts, "This is Great Tang, not Zheng Country. It's about time you old-timers changed your way of thinking."

"My lord, your safety is crucial. Having served as an official for many years, I've seen my share of superiors, but never one quite like you. I truly admire a young man like you, so..." The nearly fifty-year-old deputy continued on and on.

"Hand me that," the young man said, raising his head and pointing to a regional production report beside him, then giving the order.

The deputy sighed, picked up the report, and passed it to the young man, opening his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately holding back.

"I know what you want to say." The young man continued without looking up, pointing at his own head with one hand, "The situation here is already quite complex. Had I taken it slowly, it might take ten years to deal with these entangled nobles... but I don't have time to waste on them."

"If they wish to kill me, then you'll witness an immediate and dramatic change here. If they don't dare, then I can save a lot of time," the young man concluded, then lowered his hand from his head and tapped on the report, "Quite daring, aren't they!"

After speaking, he took up a pen and circled a figure in the report. "Missing at least 350 Gold Coins."

The old man quickly took the report and compared it to the data before him, also showing surprise, "This is too, too audacious. What do you intend to do, my lord?"

"If they disband their private troops, surrender their weapons, and are willing to cooperate with the subsequent regional reforms, I might let this sum go," the young man said, standing up with a smile, "Let's go. The local police are hardly reliable; we'll borrow some manpower from the stationed troops. In any case, we need to cleanse the police of corruption first. Otherwise, how are we going to use these lazy bums later on?"

Upon hearing the young man's words, the old man's arm hairs stood on end: from his experience, once the military was involved, matters would be difficult to calm down.

It seemed to him that the young man before him was not a fool; having heard some rumors, he planned to strike first by deploying the military to cleanse the police forces, thereby securing an armed force that he could rely on.

The other party had been operating here for many years and were clearly adept at infiltrating officials. They had captured the original City Defense Forces, thus they also had significant influence within the reorganized Security Bureau forces.

"Do you know why I look down on these trash?" the young man said as he put on his coat, walking toward the door but looking back with disdain, "If you put this lot in Brunas, they're nothing but a bunch of gangsters who think they're above the law..."

The old man also took off his coat and followed his superior officer down the long corridor, nodding to the secretaries and officials who met them. They walked straight out of the front door, approaching the car parked at the entrance.

Just as they were about to open the car door, a muscular man suddenly burst out from the side, drew a Left-Wheel Handgun, and pulled the trigger at the young man.

"Bang!" The young man was slightly stunned; he hadn't expected these people to be foolhardy enough to attempt an assassination on the governor right at the entrance of the governor's hall. He was shot in the chest and staggered, trying to steady himself.

The old man, who had been an official here since the time of Zheng Country, stepped forward to block the attacker, shouting loudly, "Assassin! Assassin! Help! Help! What kind of people are you?"

"Get lost!" The muscular man kicked the old man in the stomach, sending him flying to the side, "The higher-ups said to spare your life, so don't be ungrateful! Remember this lesson! Tell the next pup that comes here to keep in line—don't lose your life over it!"

Just as the burly man shouted loudly, a thug burst out from the rear of the car, reaching for the dagger at his waist and stabbing it into the back of the young official.
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Afterward, he pulled out the dagger and stabbed another spot, blood splattering onto his body, but he continued his actions, seemingly indifferent.

The guards at the door had already rushed forward, but upon seeing the two thugs, their steps slowed. They shouted for them to stop but made no move to intervene.

Soon, the two assailants left the scene briskly, leaving behind only an old man calling desperately for help as he clung to the young man's body.

Turning his head back in despair, the old man looked at the guards who arrived too late and the officials running out from their offices, feeling the liquid on his palms thick and suffocating.

"Quick, find a doctor!" a female secretary screamed in terror. Some hurried to the car, while others pushed aside the somewhat dull-witted police, urging them to disperse and secure the area.

"What about the murderers? You just let them get away?" a young man asked angrily, his eyes wide with disbelief, but the guards instinctively averted their gazes.

The atmosphere suddenly turned eerie as the young man in the old man's arms raised his head, his face bearing a smile.

He murmured words of comfort between spitting out blood, "It's crazier than I imagined. But this time, they won't escape. Cough cough cough!"

"Sir, Sir, save your energy! We're, we're going to the hospital right now," the old man, already in tears, shouted loudly.

"Too late..." the young man, smile still on his face, muttered as his consciousness began to blur: "Didn't let it be in vain..."

He closed his eyes and his body went limp, no longer supported by strength. Quickly a car arrived to take him to the hospital, and more people gathered, adding to the chaos.

The telephone rang insistently in the office. A military officer lazily picked up the receiver, listening to the voice on the other side.

His expression turned ice-cold as he listened in silence until the person paused, then he said, "Stop crying, and explain the situation clearly. I'm listening, take your time."

"I understand. All of you, don't act rashly. I will report this incident. You can be sure that Sun Ze won't have died in vain," he said before hanging up.

Then, he picked up the receiver again and said somberly, "Hello, connect me to the Security Bureau, thank you."

After getting through, he reported the situation. After a long pause, he said, "That's the situation. Yes, leave it to me. No one will get away."

After ending the call, he immediately picked up the phone again, "Hello, it's me. Sound the combat alarm, troops assemble."

"Woo!" Seconds later, the piercing alarm echoed throughout the entire barracks. Soldiers grabbed their weapons and helmets and hurried out of their barracks to form squares under the commanding voices of their officers.

Then, they climbed aboard trucks. Lastly, an officer with a wide-brimmed hat and his aide got into a jeep at the front, and the roar of the engines stirred up the camp once more.

It was late in the evening, and with headlights on, a column of military vehicles rumbled into the city. Civilians returning home late saw soldiers erecting barbed wire at the intersections.

"Curfew tonight! The whole city is under martial law! All citizens must immediately return to their residences! Anyone who disobeys will be shot on sight!" shouted a soldier, his chin raised, standing in the middle of the street with a submachine gun, announcing the citywide curfew.

Some, upon hearing about the incident, hurried away from the fierce-looking soldiers, who seemed to be holding back anger.

Others tried to inquire but were pushed away by the soldiers, who then sternly warned them to go home immediately or face the consequences.

Soon, streets that had returned to a semblance of prosperity were deserted, filled with military trucks and armed soldiers. In the shadows, one could make out .42-caliber machine guns mounted at street corners.