Chapter 122: A New Government
"Can anyone tell me how the hell this happened?" Snake asked, a quiet fury lacing his tone. The question had been the single biggest thought plaguing his mind for the past hour. Because somehow, in Outer Heaven of all places, his son had gotten into a firefight. Now, as he asked this question, the officers in front of him could flinch and gape. Alongside him inside the Command Center were Miller, Nezu, and All Might, the three other people responsible for this mission.
The Symbol of Peace and Principal both looked at the officers nervously, though Nezu's concern was hidden. It was their student who'd been involved after all. One of the officers soon stepped forward, the report already on a tablet in his hand.
"We're not sure-" the officer cautiously replied, before Snake's hand slammed against the table.
"Don't tell me you're not sure!" Snake furiously yelled, before pointing at the assembled officers, "I want answers, not excuses, damn it!"
Instinctively, the officers flinched as Snake yelled, and all of them slowly backed away. Few of his men had ever actually seen Snake angry. And even then, his anger was never really directed at them. Seeing this, Snake took a quick pause and slowly breathed in. These were his troops, his men. Unless they were responsible for getting his son hurt, his anger towards them was unjustified. So Snake calmed down.
"Two hundred and fourteen of these bastards somehow got into the country. Two hundred and fourteen," Snake stated with a grumble, as he lifted up an Idroid in front of him. There, it detailed the after-action report Victoria had sent in. Somehow, a group of two hundred and fourteen unknown men managed to sneak into Outer Heaven. All of which were heavily armed and bore no qualms over killing some teenagers.
It hadn't been confirmed if this random band of poachers was affiliated with anyone. In fact, considering it had only been a day since their capture, the MSF still didn't know who they were. They didn't know if this was all of them, or if more people had snuck into the country. And unless someone started talking in the next few hours, that's likely how it would remain for a while.
"We've got men working on learning the group's identity," one of the officers eventually explained, as he took a wary step forward. Placing the Idroid back down, Snake motioned for the man to continue.
"On our side of things, so far it… appears to be a failure from multiple government and military branches," the officer continued, while Snake internally grumbled. Calling it a failure was an understatement. This band of criminals had gotten past the MSF Army, Air Force, Marines, Outer Heaven Border Patrol, every layer of Outer Heaven law enforcement, and evaded detection of the Intel Team. Before that, they had to cross through all of Cameroon before even reaching Nigeria. They had to have been in the country for weeks. This was a full top-down failure.
Could some of these failures be explained? Sure. Snake doubted that the entire gang just showed up in one big group. With everybody just roaming together, where MSF satellites could see them. And so long as they behaved themselves, then local law enforcement wouldn't have had a reason to pull them over or investigate. They'd just be the most recent band of refugees. However, that didn't explain the Intel Team's failures. It was their job to keep an eye and ear out for anything.
A band of South African poachers, all moving toward Outer Heaven, would have garnered some attention. Especially with how well armed this group was.
"So, the cause of this failure?" Snake tiredly inquired, hoping someone would finally give him an answer. Hesitantly, one officer looked toward him before sighing.
"...A lack of manpower," the officer explained. The man held out an Idroid, then, its hologram lighting up and displaying a small map of Outer Heaven. More specifically, it was a map of the frontline, with small markers displaying divisions in key sectors.
"We've dragged at least eighty-five thousand personnel away from the home front. A fraction of our forces, sure, but that is a very major dent when dealing with a more than two-thousand-mile frontline," the officer stated, causing Snake to grumble. Of course, the issue was resource-driven. He'd taken thousands of troops from the front and brought them to Japan. Not just ground troops. No, Snake had redirected Intel Officers who were originally dealing with the warlords to dealing with the Cult.
As the officer soon displayed, part of the reason it took Spec Ops so long to arrive was that no one informed them they were needed. There just wasn't anyone communicating with them. There was only one Intel Officer in charge of monitoring both Midoriya and Uraraka. And that dude had been on a forty-eight-hour shift with no sleep. By then, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.
It took Victoria brute-forcing her way into Spec Ops' comms for them to finally realize "oh shit, there's a fight!". Normally, the MSF's AIs would keep this sort of thing from happening. They'd keep all the paperwork and data nice and tidy, to ensure there was no mix-up. But almost every AI had been reassigned… to Japan. In a sense, the entire thing had just become a jumbled mess.
They'd taken thousands from the frontline in such a short time frame that it left everyone trying to figure out what assets were and weren't being sent to Japan. Snake was astonished that it had gotten this bad. He was also quite horrified that he'd played a large part in everything getting that bad. All of this had to be rectified immediately.
"Should we call up reserves?" Miller piped up, the man turning toward Snake.
"Do we have the funds for that?" Snake asked in return, causing Miller to pause.
"If we cut spending in some areas… maybe?" Miller replied, his answer more of a question than something definitive. The only areas they could cut were in R . With the world taking such a rapid turn, Snake didn't want to risk the MSF losing its technological edge. Mumbling to himself, Snake slowly brought a hand to his chin in thought.
"With US forces showing up, we could start sending some of our guys home," Snake noted, only to spot All Might looking at him, surprised.
"And let up pressure on the cult?" All Might questioned, with Snake quietly agreeing. Night Owl was still out of action, preparing for something unseen. The MSF couldn't afford to give the Ninth Circle a moment to breathe. But that took away another option. So they needed something else. Slowly, Snake began to remember something; the longer he thought the idea over.
"...Some of our allies did offer military assistance," Snake noted aloud, the memory coming back to him. Days before Snake's meeting at the White House, Brazilian President Bruno Alves, Ukrainian President Yana Shevchenko, Colombian President Lucas Rojas, and Polish President Konrad Nowak had all floated the idea of possibly sending troops to Outer Heaven. They needed combat experience, and fighting in Outer Heaven would help out an ally. Ultimately, these talks had been somewhat postponed, but they could be brought up again.
"They only offered logistical support, unfortunately. Nothing involving combat troops," Miller soon replied, with Snake slowly nodding next to him.
"Then we'll see if they could be more open to full support," Snake commented, a few ideas running through his head, "I know the Poles have been wanting to see some action."
It'd be a win-win down the line. With the Russians seeming to get more aggressive, it would pay for more of Poland's ranks to have experience in the field. And with all allies effectively being miles away, they didn't have to worry about the warlords retaliating for their interference. With that decision now made for Snake, the man came to a quiet thought. He'd been avoiding the question for a while, a little afraid of what the answer would be. But he'd have to ask it eventually.
"Izuku and Uraraka, how are they?" Snake cautiously asked, not liking it when the intel officer gulped.
"We… uh," the officer began to say, as Snake slowly grew more concerned, "FOXHOUND operatives were unable to locate them when they arrived."
Snake's mind froze, his eyes shooting wide open. Seeing his rapidly changing expression, the officer quickly clarified.
"Satellite imaging later spotted them in Za-Ku-Na eating breakfast," the officer explained, soon calming Snake's worries. However, that answer brought up a whole new problem. Next to him, Nezu had begun to tap the table with his paw.
"So… your son, and our student both managed to slip away… from the MSF's best soldiers," Nezu noted aloud, the rodent surprised by the idea. Looking at the officer again, everyone just watched as the man nodded. And Snake? Snake was so unbelievably furious, terrified, and also shockingly proud. On the one hand, what was Midoriya thinking!? He'd gotten out of a second major fight, and when MSF forces arrived, he just… he just ran!?
Does he know how idiotically irresponsible he's being right now! It drove Snake mad. He could get killed, and Snake wasn't there. But on the other hand, his son had just snuck away from the MSF's best. He'd managed to avoid the best of the best. And this was after winning a gun fight that was similar in size to Tokyo's. He's come so far. Snake couldn't be prouder. Still, there were a few issues.
"Well, what are they doing now?" Snake tiredly asked, as the officer soon altered the map still present for everyone. Zooming in on their location, Snake now saw the teens had left Za-Ku-Na and were heading to one of the possible rhino spots.
"By the looks of it, they're following through with their mission," the officer cautiously explained, "So far, they've extracted another two targets, along with two dozen other animals."
Busy bunch, Snake mentally noted. Though he also should have expected the teens to keep working. Midoriya just wasn't one to give up, and considering Uraraka had been the one to ask for this job, Snake doubted she was one to give up either.
"Do you want us to pull them out?" the officer inquired, as Snake thought over the possibility.
"No," Snake hesitantly replied, "But keep a closer eye on them. It took FOXHOUND too damn long to get there."
Half of the problem was FOXHOUND, just not getting the word that the teens needed help. Once they did get word, it took ten minutes for everybody to move out, but that was half an hour after the fight started. The other half was the fact that said teens then got into a car chase. Meaning FOXHOUND had to run after them and catch up. So they arrived at the old location, found no one there, and spent twenty minutes looking for them.
It was just an embarrassment, one Snake that knew could not be allowed to happen again. Eventually, the officer's report was finished, leaving Snake in quiet annoyance. Next to him, All Might slumped into his chair, while Nezu pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it swiftly, the rodent soon took a long drag.
"...Well, at the very least, we know Ms Uraraka's training has paid off," Nezu cautiously noted, while Snake grumbled next to him.
"This was a bad idea from the start," Miller commented tiredly, as the man took off his sunglasses to rub his eyes.
"How the hell did this get so off the rails?" All Might questioned regretfully, as Snake merely shrugged. If there was one silver lining out of all of this, they at least managed to catch this security threat. Still, Snake worried there was more to this gang of poachers. They had heavy machine guns and grenade launchers for crying out loud. Next to him, All Might began to cover his face with his hands.
"You should have pulled them out," All Might muttered, and Snake shrugged back.
"I should have," Snake calmly agreed, before following Nezu's lead and pulling out a cigar.
"But knowing Izuku, he'd just run off again. I doubt either of them will want to come back until the mission's finished," Snake added, watching as All Might thought his reasoning over. Reluctantly, he sighed, knowing Snake was right. An annoyingly good-hearted person that boy was.
"So we're just letting them run off?" Miller questioned as Snake nodded in response. With a lighter in hand, he soon had his cigar lit and took a quick puff.
"Unfortunately," Snake replied, with the cigar in his mouth, "However, now we know that two drones weren't enough."
"How many should we send then? Three, four?" Miller asked, the commander now tapping on the holotable's screen. Lighting it up, Snake found a hologram displaying the nearest assets in the field.
"A squadron should be enough," Snake replied tiredly. Anything with enough ordnance to flatten a mountain. Maybe a couple bombers for good measure… and tanks. Lots of tanks-
"Who even were they?" All Might questioned, interrupting Snake's thoughts, "The report said South African poachers, but… two hundred of them? All in the same place? That can't be right."
Snake agreed. It just didn't seem right to dedicate that many men to killing off one rhino. Maybe if they were after the whole herd of them, but that was nearly eighteen people for every one rhino. And again, their equipment. Snake's mind just kept going back to it. It was all South African gear. The poachers themselves were all South African, with two or three Namibians or Botswanans mixed in.
It made Snake suspicious.
"I doubt it is. But we'll just have to wait for more intel," Snake noted tiredly, watching as All Might slowly sat back up. At the same time, the hero removed his hands from his face and carefully laid them onto the holotable. This entire meeting had taken a toll on all of them. But that felt wrong to even say. Snake hadn't been the one fighting these men, Midoriya had. And for All Might, his entire job was fighting villains.
He was supposed to protect his students. And yet they kept coming into conflict. It was disheartening. So, Snake thought it was time to move on. There were other, more positive things they needed to address.
"Now then… the party preparations?" Snake asked, his eye turning toward All Might again. The hero looked back at him, confused, while Snake took a puff from his cigar.
"You're still going on with that? I'd have thought Young Midoriya would be grounded for this little stunt," All Might told him, with Snake giving him a so-so gesture.
"I'm still contemplating that choice," Snake replied, as the thought crossed his mind. Again, he was both unbelievably proud and so incredibly furious. One of the two feelings would win out eventually. Seeing this, All Might thought about it for a minute before sitting up straighter.
"...Well, so far everything should be in order. Meal plans are being established, decorations have been ordered, events are being scheduled, and so far, guests are scheduled to arrive on time," Miller then piped up, before All Might could speak.
"Gifts?" Snake asked as All Might cleared his throat.
"Are coming along smoothly," All Might replied, a small smile forming on his face, "I managed to inform Class 1A discreetly enough… I hope."
That was good. Snake had no doubt they'd want to get involved… some of them at least. The blond spikey one seemed a tad too full of himself to ever join in. But hey, so long as they were in the loop and didn't give anything away, they'd be fine. There was just one more item. Slowly, Snake leaned forward onto the table, his eye darting from side to side.
"And… the magnum opus?" Snake then, as All Might widely smiled.
"It's almost finished. I just have to reach out to a…" All Might explained, the man pulling out his phone for a moment. He started to scroll through his contact list, the very act taking a comical amount of time. The longer it went, the more All Might's smile became strained.
"A lot of friends… it may be farther from completion than I thought," All Might eventually muttered, as he continued to scroll through his phone.
"That's fine," Snake calmly told him, "We've still got time."
You know, Wolfram was not having a good year. Actually, that statement was inaccurate. He wasn't having a good decade. For years, his little troupe of mercs had a good thing going. Villains and governments from around the world would come to him for his services. For protection services, black ops raids, sabotage missions, kidnappings, assassinations, and even a bit of animal rescue.
But ever since you know who arrived… work had just started drying up. And now for his most recent job, he was being forced to play a fake villain to steal some trinket from I-Island. A possibly lucrative job, sure. Yet there were a few problems. Number one, it was on I-Island. Even with Samuel giving him access to the island's security system, there were still a ton of heroes on board the place.
Number two was that this device was supposedly unfinished. So for all he knew, the device itself was possibly worth jack-shit. And worst of all, the entire plan was-
"Delayed!? What do you mean by delayed!?" Wolfram demanded as he paced about his makeshift command center. With so little work as of recently, he found himself being relegated to a small island in the middle of the Pacific. His command center had to be placed in a cave. Around him were scattered crates loaded with his men's gear. FN Scars, MP5s, H 33s, and other guns sat around them. Along with bits of old camping furniture, it allows people to sit or sleep somewhere.
"Look, I'm not pleased either. But David seems to be getting cold feet," Sam replied over the phone, as Wolfram grumbled. Across from him, Swordkil looked at him with a raised brow. He'd originally been playing cards with his other lieutenants, Nobu and Daigo. But now all three of them were watching him.
"Of course he is," Wolfram grumbled, bringing a hand to his scarred face. Continuing to pace around the cave, he turned toward all the gear they'd acquired for the job.
"We had an agreed-upon date. You'd let us onto the island, we'd grab the device, and everybody would get their money's worth," Wolfram tiredly stated, as he heard Sam sigh on the other end.
"And you'll get your pay. Lord knows I want mine too," Sam replied, to which Wolfram groaned. He needed money now. Not eventually, now. Wolfram had spent weeks gathering up ammo and arms. He'd spent weeks quietly going over the island's blueprints and internal systems. He'd gone over every part of this plan, right to the exact moment he'd betray Sam. And yet none of it mattered.
"The job is still on, but it's being pushed back a few weeks," Sam added, only souring Wolfram's mood, "Dave wants the heat from Japan to die down before we do anything."
"Are you kidding me? The heat won't die down! Unless that cult is annihilated by tomorrow, then the heat's gonna be there for months!" Wolfram angrily shouted into the phone. It wouldn't just go away. All Wolfram ever heard about the cult from the underground was about their unwillingness to surrender and their seemingly endless numbers. Wolfram swore, if this job ever happened, he would strangle David Shield the first chance he got.
"Either we go ahead as scheduled or we don't!" Wolfram yelled before he heard Sam grumble on the other end.
"You're being offered good money. If you don't want it, then I'll find another group more willing to follow along," Sam told him. Before Wolfram could even retort, the infuriating businessman hung up. The sudden end to the call left Wolfram stewing in rage.
"Damn it!" he yelled out, practically slamming his phone onto a nearby wall. All the while, his lieutenants watched on, worried.
"We lose the job?" Swordkil soon asked, as Wolfram breathed raggedly
"Something like that," Wolfram angrily replied, before turning and walking toward a large collapsible table in the middle of the cave. Once he was close enough, he placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. Sitting on the table was a large map of the globe, with hundreds of red Xs marking different spots. Walking up behind him, Swordkil carefully crossed his arms.
"The hell are we supposed to do now?" Swordkil asked, annoyed, as Wolfram's hands clenched together, "I don't know if you've seen our accounts, but we're running out of cash here, boss."
"I know, I know," Wolfram replied, the man now looking over the map.
"This was supposed to be our big score," Nobu muttered, causing Wolfram's gaze to snap up.
"I know!" Wolfram shouted, slamming his fists onto the table. Rather quickly, the metal legs began to bend and contort, stabbing through the hard rock below as the entire table sank downward. Regaining his composure, Wolfram had the table claw itself back up and ran a hand through his hair. At the same time, his lieutenants cautiously gathered around before they all looked down at the map.
"...We could head back to Africa. Warlords always have work available," Daigo offered, only for Nobu to scoff next to him. The bastard always loved the place. The constant war meant there were plenty of fights for him to get into. However, the others looked back at him, annoyed.
"Hell no, I'm not getting bombed to hell again by the MSF," Nobu retorted tiredly, as Swordkil nodded in agreement, "And if it's not the MSF, then it's us being forced to compete with every other major PMC on the continent."
Genuinely, the entire continent was swarming with mercs. From the north to the south, one could find some foreign PMC staking a claim. And Wolfram's crew didn't have the resources necessary for that kind of thing. They used to. They weren't as big as some other PMCs, like the Gold Coast and their damn aircraft carrier. But they had a lot of guys. Nearly two thousand personnel are all operating under Wolfram.
Now he was down to… sixty. Maybe forty. He wasn't even sure anymore. There were some guys out there who were MIA. And while Daigo might be able to handle the MSF's bunker busters, Wolfram knew damn well no one else would.
"South America?" Swordkil then inquired, only for Daigo to look back, unsure.
"Eh, pay's been lousy there for years. Hasn't been the same since the Brothers got busted," Daigo replied, causing the other two to grumble.
"...The Middle East?" Nobu asked cautiously, only for Swordkil to shake his head.
"They're already over-saturated with mercs as is. And any traffic there is through-" Swordkil began to say, before Wolfram tiredly cut him off.
"The MSF, because of course it fucking is," Wolfram muttered angrily. The MSF. It was always the MSF. Ten years ago, these fucks weren't an issue. Now Wolfram couldn't go five feet without running into one of them. And oh, how he despised them. The MSF constantly stole away contracts for missions Wolfram could easily complete. And on the contracts they didn't take, Wolfram always found them supporting the opposing side. So it meant dealing with their bombers, or their tanks, or their artillery, or fucking FOXHOUND!
It made getting any job impossible, and completing them just as difficult. Constantly, he was being overshadowed by Big Boss and his private army. Don't get him started on their little nation-state either. Now… now Wolfram was running dangerously low on everything. Whatever resources he had scrounged up in this cave were all that was left.
"Why are we even talking about this? We don't have the fuel to go anywhere to begin with!" Wolfram then angrily shouted, thoroughly tired of this constant back and forth, "We've barely got enough to reach Japan! Let alone Africa!"
Quickly, his lieutenants nervously stepped back, letting Wolfram fume. He tried to think up some new plan, yet nothing came to mind. Looking back down at the map, Wolfram's eyes passed over every red X marking it. Each X was a spot his crew could never return to. Simply because it had an MSF presence, was the location of a job gone wrong, or was filled up by some other rival. The Xs covered half the map. Tiredly, Wolfram's head drooped down, the man still trying to think of some plan.
Then someone spoke up behind him.
"Truly, a conundrum," a voice commented, as Wolfram briefly paused. Turning around, Wolfram found himself staring into the darkness of the cave, his eyes squinting into the dark. Slowly, a figure began to step forward, and Wolfram's eyes shot open. Before him was something ripped straight out of hell. For the thing in front of him wasn't a man, but a beast. It looked like a human but stood at seven feet tall. Its skin was a pale greenish grey. The thing's limbs were all freakishly long, and its brain was seemingly exposed.
It had eyes on the sides of its head and spikes lining its shoulders and back. But strangest of all was that its chest was glowing. Almost instantly, everyone began to move. Wolfram drew his M92 Beretta while the rest of his men grabbed rifles.
"What the fuck is that!?" Nobu cried out, while Swordkil's arms shifted into blades next to him. A dozen men stood ready to fire as the monster continued to walk forward. Stepping into the light, Wolfram soon got a better look at the monster.
"Gentlemen, there is no need to be alarmed," the voice said with eerie calm, as Wolfram's eyes fell to the TV screen grafted onto the monster's chest. A few sparks shot through the device, the inhuman thing somehow powering it up. Displayed on the screen was a more… normal-looking man. Though calling him normal was a stretch. Half his head was covered in scars, and the man didn't have any eyes or a nose.
He was also strapped to some medical device, with tubes covering his fine black suit.
"After all, I come bearing the opportunity of a lifetime," the man stated, a smug grin present on his face. It unnerved Wolfram the longer he looked at the unknown man. Without moving a finger, the metal hammer on his Beretta pulled back.
"And just who are you?" Wolfram questioned, as the man's smile somehow got wider. With a small bow forward, the man spoke again.
"I am All for One," the man introduced, instantly confusing Wolfram. All for One… where had he heard that name… before… Wolfram's eyes slowly widened, the merc turning pale.
"...The quirk thief," Wolfram muttered, as his lieutenants looked at him, shocked. That's how he remembered him. The mythical boogie man capable of taking away someone's quirk. There was always talk amongst the criminal underworld about his exploits. About how he reigned over Japan for decades, before All Might came and gave the HPSC dominance over everything. But Wolfram had never believed the stories.
"He's supposed to be a myth," Swordkil muttered, while Nobu grimaced next to him.
"So was the MSF," Nobu stated warily, the man taking a step back. Still keeping his gun trained, Wolfram took a cautious step forward.
"What do you want?" Wolfram demanded, watching as the monster's body shifted around. It looked unstable, as if its long limbs could barely handle its own weight. Hearing the question, All for One's smile shifted to a thin line, as the man clasped his hands together.
"I want to offer you a job," All for One replied calmly, "I'm currently in need of men with skills such as yours."
Somehow, that didn't feel like the gift Wolfram wanted it to be. A job from the quirk thief of all people… it felt worrisome.
"The job?" Wolfram inquired, while All for One began to shake his eyeless head.
"I'm afraid I cannot delve into specifics right now," All for One told him, causing Wolfram to groan. If you can't explain what it is, then I've no intention of joining, Wolfram thought to himself. Yet All for One had a very quick method available that almost instantly changed Wolfram's mind.
"However, I can offer you far more than your current employers," All for One explained, giving Wolfram a brief pause. How the hell did he even know about the I-Island job? Better yet, how did he know what Sam was paying them? Of course, those questions stopped once Wolfram noted the offer for more money. A payment bigger than what a billionaire of all people was giving him.
"Your offer?" Wolfram cautiously asked, just as the monster began to convulse and spasm. The disgusting thing opened its mouth before throwing up a full leather briefcase. Wolfram had no clue where it was keeping it. But then it threw up a three dozen more, one after the other. Still disgusted, Wolfram motioned for one of his men to grab the cases. One merc quietly did, and opened it up for everyone to see.
"Twenty million dollars, as an upfront fee," All for One told them, as Wolfram looked over the money, "All as separate individual payments, for all of you."
Twenty million USD, each. Not for the entire group, no. All of his men were being given twenty million dollars, separately. And All for One was somehow offering more. The small part of Wolfram telling him this was a bad idea was getting quieter by the minute. He was seeing dollar signs at this point. Still, the voice was getting quieter; that didn't mean it was gone.
"...I don't take jobs with so little info," Wolfram commented, causing All for One to chuckle loudly.
"Then take solace in what little I can offer you," All for One told him, his smile slowly coming back to him, "The chance to beat the MSF."
The MSF. It was always the MSF. At first, Wolfram found the idea to be an immediate no. He wasn't going to get bombed by those mercs again. But… Wolfram began to recognize this freakish monster. They were on the news a few weeks ago. One of them had supposedly torn the turret off a tank. A few more of those around… and the MSF won't stand a chance.
And wasn't that idea just delicious? The possibility of getting back at the MSF after all the years of pain they'd given Wolfram? It made the decision so easy.
"We're in."
It had been a hectic week for the MLA. For one sole reason. They'd won. The emergency elections Japan held couldn't have gone any better for them. It was a genuine landslide across the board. Dozens of their party members were elected to parliament, and dozens of government spots were now vacant and waiting for MLA appointees. What's the best of all? The Prime Minister's seat was theirs. As the now Prime Minister Hanabata Koku sat next to Re-Destro.
They'd won. And for the entire MLA, it was a time of grand celebration. All of Deika had been lit up with parties and music, food and fireworks. It was as if New Year's had come early. And then, slowly, the parties died away. The celebrations came to an end, and the MLA's leaders had found themselves with… a uh… a problem. Because you see… it's… well, the thing was… they were now in charge, and… the problem is…
"So… what comes next for the liberation of the people?" Curious asked brightly, her notebook already open on her lap. She looked at the others not with doubt, but with the anticipation of a reporter covering the first chapter of history. At the same time, she voiced the single largest problem the MLA had. What do they do now? None of them expected to gain such an overwhelming victory. Re-Destro himself had always believed the revolution would be the end goal. That the Hearts and Minds party would give them legitimacy, but that they'd come to violence eventually.
But now? Now they just control the government. They had a majority in parliament, and while it would be difficult to push some of their agenda through, Re-Destro was sure they could convince some other politicians to see things his way. So the revolution… wasn't exactly needed anymore. They'd trained up a hundred thousand warriors… kinda for nothing. Still, that didn't exactly explain what their next move would be. As Skeptic scoffed, his gaze barely shifted toward Curious.
"Is it not obvious to your dimwitted mind?" Skeptic questioned, while Curious tiredly rolled her eyes, "Now's the time we push through the Grand Commander's agenda."
Annoyed, Curious crossed her arms together as she glared back at Skeptic.
"I know that's our next move… but how do we show it to the people? Which law will be our opening headline, the bold lead that proves to the nation that Liberation is here?" she pressed, her tone more about messaging than logistics. Always focused on the story, on a narrative she could mold and create. Even in such dire times, all she saw was opportunity.
"All of them," Skeptic abruptly told her, "We push everything. Oversaturate parliament with bills, to the point they and the public will eventually forget or not care about whatever changes we instate."
Still typing on his laptop, doing some project he'd been on about for weeks, Skeptic soon looked up at his colleagues.
"Soon, everything we want will be at hand," Skeptic stated, while Re-Destro watched him carefully. Part of the grand commander agreed with Skeptic; however, he also knew politics was a dangerous game. There were many times Detnerat had to dance with the devil, if you will, to secure even the most basic of permits. So he doubted this would be as easy as Skeptic believed. But if anything, Re-Destro was no master of the subject either.
"I believe we should defer to the only politician amongst us," Re-Destro commented, his gaze slowly moving toward the new prime minister. Of course, it was hard to even see Trumpet. The man was surrounded by paperwork, tablets, and coffee mugs. None of this stuff was there the day before. Behind the large piles, Re-Destro spotted Trumpet going over a set of documents, his eyes wide and exhausted. However, he looked more panicked than anything.
"Trumpet?" Re-Destro called out, watching as the man slowly snapped out of his work.
"H-huh?" Trumpet asked, looking around the table, before he spotted Re-Destro, "I… I apologize, Grand Commander."
Rather quickly, Re-Destro held up a hand.
"It is alright," Re-Destro told him, before placing his hand back on the table, "Now, what do you believe our next course of action should be?"
For an unknown reason, the question made Trumpet freeze. It gave Re-Destro a brief, but much clearer look at the man. His suit was covered in wrinkles and what looked like spilled coffee. Bits of sugar from some donuts dusted his hands and pants, the Prime Minister having rather lazily used his clothes like a napkin. He was a tried and true disheveled mess. And it was entirely out of character.
"...Um…" Trumpet hesitantly began, the man's eyes carefully avoiding Re-Destro's, "N-nothing."
The room went quiet then, as Re-Destro quietly stared at Trumpet. Everyone stared at Trumpet. Curious looked at him, shocked, Skeptic looked disgusted, and Geten seemed angry under his hood.
"...Nothing?" Re-Destro asked suspiciously, while Trumpet nervously nodded.
"Nothing. I don't think we should do anything," Trumpet replied, as Skeptic slammed his hands against the table.
"Have you gone insane!?" Skeptic demanded angrily, the man now ignoring his project.
"I-I-I know I sound crazy… but a thread is holding this country together," Trumpet reasoned tiredly, gaining a confused look from Re-Destro. Skeptic merely scoffed, though, before he crossed his arms together.
"You've been listening to the news too much. Most likely hers," Skeptic muttered, while gesturing toward Curious. The reporter looked back at him with a more prominent glare.
"I only speak the unbridled truth," Curious retorted, causing Skeptic to grumble.
"And whatever negative stories we want you to spin," Skeptic countered, as Trumpet groaned, annoyed. The prime minister saw that this was going nowhere and tiredly shook his head.
"I'm not joking here. Just… look," Trumpet told him, before he started grabbing documents from his pile. There were so many that his attempts to move around were ultimately rather clumsy, and he nearly pushed his coffee mugs off the table. But soon, Trumpet managed and began passing out some small random papers to everyone.
"In my short time as now Prime Minister, I was given access to the country's recent financial data," Trumpet explained tiredly, just as he passed a new paper to Re-Destro. Looking down at it, the grand commander spotted a whole series of charts and economic reports. It took a second to know exactly what he was looking at, but soon Re-Destro realized. It was on Japan's shipping industry.
"Imports have dropped by nearly thirty-five percent in just these few months," Trumpet continued, causing Re-Destro to slowly go wide-eyed. He looked back at the paper, practically pale. Japan was a very important heavy country. In fact, annually, they were expected to import nearly nine hundred billion dollars worth of goods and services. With a thirty-five percent drop… that was three hundred and fourteen billion dollars worth of imports just gone.
That was fuel, food, materials, machinery, consumer goods, medical supplies, and a dozen other things just… gone. Yet of course, things got worse.
"Exports have dropped just as much. Crime is on a very rapid rise due to a shortage of heroes and police officers. Roughly a million people have already fled the country to seek refugee status elsewhere. And worst of all? We don't have the funds to solve any of these issues," Trumpet continued, exhausted, the man now leaning over the meeting room table. As he ran a hand through his ruined hair, Curious looked back at him, shocked.
"My word…" Curious whispered, though not in horror, as her eyes gleamed with fascination. "So if we enact our current plans, in the middle of all this chaos… We'll end up creating the greatest story of liberation ever told."
That got an exacerbated look from Trumpet, the man nearly clawing his hair out.
"Story? I'm saying we'd tear the country apart," Trumpet told her quickly, now stepping back from the table. He couldn't help but let out a dry, pained laugh.
"The previous Prime Minister didn't lose the emergency election. He was jumping ship!" Trumpet suddenly exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air, "We've spent years trying to become the conductor of this train, and now that we are, we find ourselves running dangerously out of track!"
Pacing around, Trumpet placed his face into his hands. All while Re-Destro began pulling over more of Trumpet's paperwork. It only got worse the more he read. The government still had basically no clue about the cult's full capabilities, and only learned some of them through the MSF. The majority of aid coordination was a long bureaucratic mess that had to be run through the HPSC and the MSF for security reasons.
There was also the issue of major transport infrastructure shutting down as employees refused to show up for work, hospitals quickly becoming overcrowded from continued attacks, and parts of the country falling into on-again, off-again blackouts due to the cult. And to top it all off, they now had China threatening regime change due to the Ninth Circle attacking Shanghai.
"So my recommendation? We do nothing!" Trumpet exclaimed with a mad laugh. Quietly, Re-Destro looked at the man, quietly thinking to himself as Trumpet walked over and sat back down. The more Re-Destro thought about it, the more he began to despise their situation.
"We just gained power. We can't lose it immediately," Re-Destro muttered aloud. There was a chance to gain everything the MLA wanted. And while the MLA had been ready for a revolution before… that more or less seemed off the table. Any more chaos, and the country would tear itself apart. And considering they were now in charge, that didn't seem all that appealing. With a tired sigh, Re-Destro sat up.
"The goals of the MLA will have to be shelved for the time being," Re-Destro announced painfully, not believing he'd said the words. It was unthinkable. Something his subordinates thought as well, as everyone looked at him, shocked.
"What!?" Skeptic exclaimed, standing up from his seat, "This was our moment! Our time of liberation!"
"I don't like it either," Re-Destro told him warily, "But liberation won't happen if we're ousted so soon."
And that was just the best-case scenario.
"Worse yet, we may all starve if things get worse," Re-Destro added, the man again clasping his hands together. Trumpet looked back at him with a thankful sigh. Geten seemed furious, but he said nothing. Skeptic now quietly fumed as he sat back down, and Curious looked back at him, unsure.
"For the time being, I want a competent cabinet assembled," Re-Destro decided reluctantly, his gaze focusing on Trumpet, "I don't care if they're loyal to the MLA or not. Just put the best of the best in charge."
Loyalty wouldn't matter if everyone were dead. And with imports already falling so low, it was a guarantee they'd have to enact rationing.
"I'd rather we not all go hungry in a few months," Re-Destro noted worriedly, before his gaze moved over his colleagues. Quietly, a plan of action was already working through his mind. Slowly, his eyes fell on each of them one by one, as he began to speak again.
"Curious, focus on keeping the public's morale up. Skeptic, bring me everything you can on this cult. You have both MLA and Government resources backing you. Use them. Trumpet, I'll trust you with managing political affairs; I will deal with economic woes. And Geten," Re-Destro ordered, before briefly pausing on the angry man.
"Start shaping the JSDF into something worthwhile," Re-Destro told him, "I don't like all the noise China's making. And I'd rather have something resembling a military-ready before they try anything."
He knew of no one else more capable for the job than one of the MLA's strongest warriors. Reluctantly, Geten nodded, the man making a quiet "tch". It was a pain to go through, but the MLA's goals would be achieved… eventually. They might just have to start small rather than with a full-blown revolution. Somehow, Re-Destro never imagined that liberation would mean ration cards.