Who exactly Was Pei Ji?

He was the former leader of the Lugo militia, a long-standing adversary who pursued independence from the federal government.

For many years, he had led the Lugo militia to incite trouble, openly and covertly clashing with the federal government countless times, making him the most headache-inducing figure for the federation.

The perennial “bandit” at the top of the wanted list, yet affectionately referring to the federal president as “dear old friend,” raised many speculations.

Moreover, with the exposure of dozens of pages of transaction records, the private relationship between the two became even more worthy of scrutiny.

How many dirty deals had they made in private? The truth behind it might be a hundred times uglier than what was currently seen.

For a time, the credibility of the federal government plummeted to an unprecedented low.

Even though some clever people could figure out by analyzing recent events that this was probably a joint effort by the Danga State Government and the Lugo side to roast Reinis over the fire, the irate public was too preoccupied with their burning anger to delve into the deeper motives behind it.

They had only one wish at the moment—to never let a speculative executioner lead their federation.

Two hours after the evidence was revealed, some angry and radical citizens stormed into the properties and jewelry stores owned by the Reinis family, shouting “Down with the murderer” wherever they went, leaving destruction in their wake.

Some even took advantage of the chaos to loot, stealing a considerable amount of goods and engaging in clashes with the police who came to maintain order.

Protests erupted across the country, gradually escalating into uncontrollable riots.

The lights were on at the federal congress building, where an emergency meeting was convened overnight to discuss countermeasures.

News bulletins from various states were delivered one after another, and the air in the entire council chamber became increasingly cold.

On the contrary, Mo Xin, one of the members of parliament, lazily leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on the table, absentmindedly twirling a carbon pen, completely out of place in the tense atmosphere.

Chellensee, a conservative who had always disagreed with Reinis’s policies, saw that the situation was becoming increasingly unfavorable for Reinis, so he began actively pushing for the parliament to exercise its right to inquire into the president.

During his passionate speech, there was a loud bang, and a window in the southeast corner was suddenly shattered, with something the size of a palm trailing a white smoke tail being thrown in through the crack.

Someone shouted, “There’s a bomb!”

The stairway chamber instantly descended into chaos.

People near the door fled outside, while those farther away shivered under the tables, screams of terror rising one after another.

Mo Xin put down his pen with a “snap,” his lips tightly pressed to suppress the sneer in his mouth.

It was just a smoke bomb, and everyone was scared like this.

He calmly stood up, pulling Chellensee, who was hiding under the podium, up with one hand and settling him into a nearby seat.

Chellensee, uneasy and confused, wanted to stand up, but Mo Xin pressed his shoulder and made him sit back down.

Several MPs who had previously rushed outside suddenly returned, their faces still showing fear, with a hint of confusion upon closer inspection.

A fully armed squad of ten special police officers, brimming with momentum, surrounded the entrance of the parliament hall, their formation tight, making it impossible for even a fly to enter or exit easily.

Similarly dressed in military attire, Vincent strode over with a rifle in hand and performed a military salute next to Mo Xin.

“Report! There are protesters gathered outside the building, now subdued. Please give instructions, sir!” The volume was just right for everyone in the parliament hall to hear clearly.

Mo Xin waved his hand dismissively. “No rush.”

Vincent stepped back to his side, hands holding the gun horizontally in front of him, muzzle facing down, his posture as straight as a ceremonial soldier.

Mo Xin scanned the room, finally settling his gaze on Chellensee nearby and asked casually, “Where did you leave off just now?”

“…,” Chellensee swallowed nervously. “Voting.”

There was a ballot box nearby, and Mo Xin stuffed the pre-written ballot into it and gave it two firm taps.

“Cast your votes.”

With two thuds, everyone in the room looked nervously at the shattered window.

Mo Xin proposed calmly, “It’s still not safe outside. How about we finish the voting process first?”

“…Ah,” Chellensee was the first to snap out of it. He cleared his throat deliberately and echoed, “General Mo is right. The situation outside is dire, and we must give an explanation. Since we can’t reach a consensus, let’s decide by voting.”

He followed suit, marking the ballot and stuffing it into the voting box, and conservative members of parliament joined in.

Mo Xin walked to the shattered window, pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and stared expressionlessly at the bustling square outside.

Vincent, always by his side, stood guard by the voting box, his face stern, emanating a strong sense of authority.

Seeing the situation, previously hesitant MPs went along with the flow and cast their votes.

The Minister of Justice was in charge of counting the votes.

Because they had to display the ballots to prevent fraud, this process was a bit slow.

Mo Xin stood by the window, two fingers pinching the cigarette, listening with some distraction.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and the night wind, mixed with rain, blew into the window, dispelling the stifling feeling in his chest.

The night grew colder, and Mo Xin wondered if Liang Quichi needed an extra blanket in the cell.

It had been nearly a week since he had been locked up. They needed to find a way to get him out of Camp 17. Even if Liang Quichi could endure it, he himself couldn’t stand it much longer.

With light footsteps nearby, Mo Xin turned to see Chellensee shaking the lighter he held. Mo Xin noticed that the half-burned cigarette in his fingers had already gone out.

He shook his head to indicate he didn’t need it.

Chellensee put away the lighter, stood beside him at the window, and looked outside, saying softly, “It’s raining, and there are still so many people outside. They’re really determined.”

Mo Xin didn’t respond, tossing the extinguished cigarette butt into a nearby trash can.

The crowd of demonstrators downstairs continued to wave banners and protest loudly, almost drowning out Chellensee’s sigh.

“It’s almost nine years now. If there had been so many people protesting nine years ago, maybe Liang Yi wouldn’t have died.”

Chellensee looked away, straightened up a bit, and looked at Mo Xin again. “If there’s anything I can do to help restart the investigation into Liang Yi, I’ll do my best.”

Mo Xin stared at him with a scrutinizing gaze, trying to discern whether his words and expression were genuine or not. Meanwhile, the Minister of Justice on the podium suddenly raised his voice and announced the voting results.

“A total of 90 MPs, 87 present, with 67 in favor and 20 against. The vote is in accordance with regulations and is valid. The Federal Parliament will now exercise its right to inquire into the 23rd President of the Federation, McPherson Reinis, and will have the power to impeach and remove the President after the investigation concludes.”

Chellensee breathed a sigh of relief first, unable to conceal his smug smile.

The high-ceilinged parliamentary chamber buzzed with discussion, with no one noticing the two standing by the window.

Chellensee looked at the crowd outside again and said casually, “Actually, we don’t need them. The vote resolution was inevitable sooner or later. General Mo, why bother with all this fuss tonight?”

Since they had been found out, Mo Xin didn’t beat around the bush with him.

He replied bluntly, “I don’t want to waste time.”

Chellensee appreciated his frankness and nodded, “As I said before, I’m willing to do my part for the Liang family. Please ask Liang Qiuchi to be patient.”

Mo Xin questioned him, “Why?”

Chellensee replied, “Hm?”

Mo Xin’s gaze was deep and sharp, as if he could see through everything.

Chellensee lowered his eyelids. The excitement and pride he had shown after the voting results had disappeared, replaced by an inexplicable seriousness.

“Well, you could say…” he whispered, clasping his hands tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, “it’s a kind of compensation I owe to the Liang family.”