Dimitri’s tall, thin figure was very striking in front of the phalanx. He was a division commander, but he planned to "set out on the campaign" in person tonight.

  He hadn’t fought a war in three years. His hands were itching!

  Thinking that tonight’s opponents were just a bunch of unarmed reactionaries, Dimitri grew even more excited.

  Dimitri didn't think he was thin; he just hadn't grown fat. A self-disciplined life allowed him to maintain a physique comparable to Antonio’s.

  He could "easily pin down" his wife almost every other night. He felt that pinning down those homeless people sleeping on the streets tonight wouldn't be a problem at all.

  Bernardo was giving him a chance to earn credit.

  Antonio, that pervert! That idiot! Actually letting this opportunity slip right into his hands.

  "Report the situation!" Dimitri stood tall and issued the order.

  "Reporting to the Division Commander. Three thousand soldiers of the First Brigade are ready. We can complete the coordinated encirclement of a 10-square-kilometer area around West Gate Street with the Second Brigade within thirty minutes. Additionally, the City Power Management Office just called; they are ready to cut the power on schedule."

  "Very good. What about the Second Brigade? Are they ready?"

  The Second Brigade Commander stepped forward: "Reporting to the Division Commander. News from the front says the two protesting sides are still pushing each other. There are small-scale brawls. Our troops have finished scouting the routes. Sniper points and sandbags are in place. We can set out at any moment."

  The Third Brigade consisted of men Dimitri had personally selected. They were hot-blooded, warlike, and dared to get their hands dirty.

  "Soldiers of the Third Brigade, are you ready to kill the enemy?"

  The 3,000 soldiers of the Third Brigade then shouted together in perfect unison: "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

  "Remember, West Gate Street is now a malignant tumor of this country. It must be cut out! Anyone wandering West Gate Street after the midnight curfew can be treated as an enemy of the state. Do not be soft with enemies."

  "The police have given multiple warnings. Now that our army is taking the field, there is no need for further warnings."

  "However, there is one principle: do not fire at residential buildings. Do not give foreign journalists any incriminating evidence. Do you understand!"

  "Understood!" Nearly ten thousand men answered in unison.

  When the army set out, Dimitri led the way in a jeep. He was actually standing inside the jeep, sticking his tall, thin body out of the sunroof.

  When the communist camp across the border held parades, didn't their chairmen use this posture? Dimitri wanted to experience that parade posture tonight too.

  How majestic!

  Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!

  The ten thousand troops advanced with steady steps. Every step seemed to make the entire city tremble.

  As they passed through the streets, terrified residents turned off their lights. Windows slammed shut with a clatter.

  Finally, they reached the dispersal point.

  The driver braked. Dimitri shouted to the men behind him:

  "Attention!"

  As his voice fell, the street that had been deafening with footsteps a moment ago instantly became silent.

  The soldiers stood perfectly straight, holding their guns.

  Dimitri heard a baby crying in a residential building nearby, but the mother didn't dare make a sound to soothe it. She seemed to be covering the child’s mouth with her hand.

  "Disperse and execute the mission!"

  The three brigade commanders stepped forward together: "Mission guaranteed!"

  Dimitri nodded with satisfaction. He watched the soldiers run toward their planned routes.

  About fifteen minutes later, the silhouette of the last soldier disappeared around the distant street corner.

  The city lights suddenly all went out.

  "What's going on?" Dimitri shouted. There were still fifteen minutes left before the execution time.

  The power department cut the electricity fifteen minutes early?

  Wouldn't that cause total chaos?

  "Drive forward! Go to West Gate Street and see what’s happening," Dimitri ordered. The driver didn't hesitate, floored the gas, and charged ahead.

  After passing a corner, the headlights illuminated dozens of people fighting in the middle of the street.

  "Stop, stop, stop!"

  Dimitri called out a bit late. When the driver stopped, he happened to park right under a residential building, directly facing a lit window.

  "I'll get out and check the situation, Commander."

  The driver finished speaking, immediately got out, turned off the engine, and locked the car doors.

  "Hmm?" This was the first time Dimitri had encountered a driver acting on his own without permission. But thinking about the current chaotic situation, it was understandable.

  Without the car lights, the surroundings were almost pitch black.

  Dimitri felt it was safer to sit inside the car. He pulled his body back in.

  But then came the sound of glass bottles breaking and instant flares of fire that lit up the street corner again.

  Outside his car, a dozen guards raised their guns, blocking his front to keep the "enemy" away.

  Clink!

  A glass bottle smashed right into Dimitri’s car. The smell of gasoline was choking.

  Damn it!

  Dimitri tried to open the car door, but it wouldn't open.

  He thought about climbing out of the sunroof. As he poked his head out, he was hit directly by a gasoline bottle.

  "Snap!"

  Hot blood flowed down from his forehead.

  More gasoline bottles rained down from the sky. Torches were flying through the air.

  Among the guards in front of him, several had been hit by gasoline bottles and torches at the same time. They were desperately tearing off their uniforms or rolling on the ground.

  "It's a mess, damn it!" With gasoline all over him, Dimitri shrank back into the car, planning to close the sunroof to shut out the flames.

  Thump, thump, thump!

  He pushed the sunroof with his hand.

  No, he pounded the sunroof with his fist, but the sunroof wouldn't budge.

  A torch was thrown into the car. Flames instantly surged up his body. Dimitri felt extreme despair. The only thing he could do now was rush out of the sunroof.

  But as soon as he poked his head out, someone smashed his head with a wooden club.

  The massive impact, the concussion, and the buzzing sound—like ghosts in the dark or demons in his heart—along with the searing pain and suffocation of flames burning his mouth and nostrils, made Dimitri’s mind spin into chaos.

  "Am I going to die? I can't die!"

  This was Dimitri’s last bit of consciousness.

  ...

  Antonio was asleep. He had fallen asleep face down on a table in the officers' dining hall after eating his fill.

  His forehead was resting on his right hand.

  When he woke up, he felt his hand being held. A thumb was gently stroking the back of his hand.

  Damn it! Old pervert!

  Antonio didn't dare look up immediately. He was afraid the old man would see his angry face. He glanced at the back of his left hand resting on his thigh. There was a watch.

  Time: 0:36.

  By this time, things should be almost finished. Antonio believed Rocco would definitely not mess things up.

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  Besides, Ricardo and the President's special political assistant would surely take action too. Each of the three had their own plan. They wouldn't lose.

  Thinking of this, Antonio felt balanced. So what if the old man felt him up? What’s a little touching anyway?

  In fact, he had purposely fallen asleep in front of the old man to see what he would actually do.

  Only by falling asleep in front of him could he keep his own hands clean of any responsibility.

  "What happened? How did I fall asleep in the cafeteria? Did you drug me?"

  When Antonio looked up, his face wore a playful smile.

  Jax and Lito, forced to work overtime, leaned against the serving window, whispering about the old man and his ambiguous behavior.

  Antonio only looked at them once, then pretended to be flustered and pulled his right hand back.

  Bernardo turned angry from embarrassment.

  "Jax!"

  "Here!" Jax didn't know why the Commander called him, and called so fiercely. He rushed out of the kitchen in a panic, stood at attention, and saluted.

  "Starting tomorrow, you are transferred to the warehouse to move iron bed frames."

  "..." Jax almost cried.

  He really shouldn't have peeked at the Commander "doing his business." He regretted it to death.

  He couldn't understand what was wrong with him this year. He had fallen straight from an intelligence officer to a military cook, and now straight down to a warehouse worker.

  He was going to suffer in the future! Oh my god!

  In the kitchen, Lito turned his back and pretended to cook, but who would be eating at this hour?

  Through the glass window, Antonio looked at Lito’s back and really wanted to laugh out loud.

  There was a black-and-white TV in the officers' kitchen. it was broadcasting the progress of the battle. Ten thousand soldiers were caught in the fire of "people's war." They were either on fire or being hit with stones and broken bottles in the dark. They hadn't hit a single enemy.

  Antonio frowned.

  "What's wrong? Commander? How did it turn into this?"

  "Stop talking!" Bernardo was very frustrated. "Dimitri messed everything up. He hasn't come back to report yet. I think he’s hiding because he’s afraid I’ll scold him."

  "This..." Antonio pretended to be shocked and confused.

  "I should have sent you to handle this, Antonio."

  Antonio nodded. "True, I should have fought to go at that time. Sigh! I didn't expect this either."

  ...

  Knock, knock, knock!

  Urgent and powerful knocking.

  Vivienne turned on the bedside lamp and glanced at the clock: 2:35.

  At this hour, what could be happening? But she still forced her sleepy eyes open and got up.

  "Who is it?"

  "It’s me, Mistress." It was Terrence’s voice, sounding like he was crying.

  "Mistress, he insisted on coming up to find you. We couldn't stop him."

  "Yes, yes."

  Those two voices belonged to the butler and the night maid.

  Vivienne, wearing only her pajamas, had no choice but to open the door: "Terrence, what on earth is wrong? It’s the middle of the night, can't you let people sleep?"

  Terrence wiped away a tear and knelt down.

  "Mistress, please save my son. The soldiers on the street are killing people. Ten thousand soldiers! I heard they are shooting everywhere. Will my son die in the church? Boohoo... I borrowed a lot of money to let him finish high school. My family can't be without this son."

  "..."

  Vivienne was speechless. What could happen to someone hiding in a mortuary?

  But seeing the man so agitated, she couldn't say anything too harsh. She helped Terrence up.

  "Stand up and talk."

  "Yes, Mistress!" Terrence stood up submissively, his head still hanging low. He had completely forgotten the "sexy" standing posture his son had taught him today.

  Then, Vivienne finally thought of the key point.

  "What? You said the army is on the streets killing people? West Gate Street?"

  "Yes, yes, yes!" The three people in front of her nodded at the same time.

  Vivienne rushed down from the second floor to the first-floor hall. She saw the TV was on. The live broadcast showed that not many civilians had died; instead, the army had suffered heavy casualties. A faint, unnoticeable smile appeared at the corners of her mouth.

  "Mistress, please save..."

  "Enough!" Vivienne was disgusted by this persistent and spineless man. She gestured for Terrence to shut up.

  She walked to the telephone and dialed the church on speaker, but no one answered for a long time.

  Then she dialed another number.

  "Vance?"

  "It’s me, Mistress..." The man’s voice on the other end sounded sleepy.

  "Which brother is closest to the church? I can't remember. Quickly find someone to go to the church mortuary and see if Fabian is safe. His father is anxiously waiting for news. It’s best to have him call back."

  "Also, the army has clashed with civilians. Be careful. If the situation is dangerous, don't force it. Wait until tomorrow."

  "Yes, Mistress. I will call you back in a while no matter what."

  Terrence originally looked concerned and leaned in to listen to the call. Seeing Vivienne glancing at him, he lowered his head in embarrassment again.

  "Just wait." Vivienne, sitting on the sofa, gestured for Terrence to sit at the other end.

  Terrence didn't dare disobey. He sat in the corner farthest from Vivienne, his elbow resting on the sofa arm, staring blankly with his palm supporting his chin.

  About half an hour later, the call came back.

  "Mistress, Fabian is right next to me. Talk to him."

  Vivienne irritably threw the phone to Terrence, who was leaning right next to her. This man had bad breath; she felt even more disgusted.

  Terrence: "Son, are you really okay?"

  "..."

  "Good, good, good. You're okay, so I'm relieved. Be good and don't run around. Just hide in the mortuary and come back early tomorrow morning, you hear me?"

  "..."

  "Good, good, good. Do you still want to talk to the Mistress?"

  The phone was handed back to Vivienne. Fabian on the other end had lost all sleepiness:

  "My dear, there were a lot of gunshots earlier, but it’s over now. Don't worry about me. You guys should sleep early."

  "..."

  Vivienne didn't speak; she was still angry.

  That damn Terrence.

  "My dear, you must be angry at my father. I apologize to you. I’ll make it up to you properly when I get back."

  "Fine. What time are you coming back tomorrow?" Vivienne replied irritably.

  "Tomorrow at noon at the earliest. Many doors and windows in the church were smashed. I have to help them fix them tomorrow."

  This guy actually learned to do good deeds?

  Vivienne’s anger faded quite a bit, and her tone became neutral.

  "Got it. Go to sleep. Come back as soon as you fix the doors and windows tomorrow."

  "Okay, my dear."

  Vivienne hung up the phone. Maintaining her sitting position, she turned around to tell Terrence, who was leaning close to her: "Your son said tomorrow after he fixes..."

  Vivienne stopped mid-sentence. Terrence was staring at her chest in a daze. Leaning forward as he stood, he gazed through her loose collar with greedy eyes.

  "Don't you know you have bad breath?"

  Vivienne pushed the man away. Just as she was walking toward the second floor, she caught a glimpse of Terrence’s face turning bright red from the corner of her eye.