Blackstone Code-Chapter 620: That Fast

He had heard the phone ringing for a while but didn’t want to get up because he was fed up.

Since becoming governor of the Amellian province, his mental state had deteriorated day by day.

At first, the resistance was sporadic—people refusing to exchange currency, tearing Gephran textbooks, burning their flags. Bad behavior, but manageable.

The response was simple: arrest them and publicly whip them until they complied.

But the situation rapidly worsened. Even enforcing collective punishment—“one person crimes, whole family punished”—failed to curb the rebels.

Many innocent civilians were executed due to association, fueling greater resistance. Now the situation was deeply chaotic with no easy solution.

Enemies were inside and outside the city; insurgents could be anywhere—old, women, even children.

He had personally ordered the hanging of a boy of twelve or thirteen and his entire family in the square. The boy had poisoned Gephran water tanks, causing over twenty people to be sick, five dead, and seven disabled and sent home crippled.

The resistance was everywhere. Patrols once maintained by three to five soldiers plus local auxiliaries were gone.

Patrols now wouldn’t even go out without armored vehicles—who knew when a bullet or bomb might strike?

Chaos spread through the city. Civilians often blamed all attacks, looting, and violence—even those by their own—for the Gephrans. This blind hatred only worsened the situation.

The governor was already considering applying to return home. Even as a wealthy civilian, it would be better than the constant mental strain here. He felt he wouldn’t last much longer in this state.

The phone kept ringing, already for a minute. He didn’t want to answer, but the ringing persisted.

His temples throbbed painfully, his eyelids twitched uncontrollably, his pinky twitched, and his stomach hurt.

A long, persistent call at this hour was never good news.

Still ringing.

He sluggishly got out of bed, glared at the relentless phone, walked over, and answered, “It’s me…”

“Governor, a group claiming to be Blackstone Security personnel have just brought in Swallow and some members of the Independence Front…”

The governor seemed to hallucinate. He frowned, “They attacked? How many? How many do we have? Can we hold?”

The rebels had become reckless, somehow acquiring knowledge to make homemade explosives. Even behind defenses, safety was no longer guaranteed.

If defenders were too few or attackers too many, he would order an immediate retreat.

Even if these insurgents took a defensive point, they wouldn’t occupy it. The city was still Gephran territory.

They could quickly regroup and counterattack. Most rebel actions were harassment—a psychological tactic.

Both sides understood this. When defenders faced attacks, if outnumbered, the governor allowed retreat.

Sometimes, he even hoped the rebels would seize some land, giving them a target to attack, instead of scattering like now.

There was a pause and heavy breathing on the other end as the caller caught their breath.

After a moment, the voice resumed, “Governor, I’m a sentry at the outpost. A group calling themselves Blackstone Security mercenaries brought Swallow and key Independence Front members here. They have…”

The voice paused again amid other background noises, then continued,

“They operate under the Emperor’s lawful authorization to conduct military operations in Amellian province, dismantle the Independence Front, arrest leader Swallow and others, and confiscate important supplies…”

The governor’s breathing quickened. He paced, grabbed a pen, opened a book at random, and ordered the caller to repeat everything.

As the information was repeated, he took detailed notes and instructed soldiers to treat the captives well, allowing them full use of the outpost facilities, and to send supplies to the sentries.

After hanging up, the governor’s headache eased, and his nerves relaxed. Whoever could solve Amellia’s problem was his ally.

He couldn’t keep the good news to himself; he had to inform others, especially the emperor.

The emperor was still awake. Lynch’s performance gave him a strange sense of hope. If Amellia’s crisis could be solved so easily, he wouldn’t object even if Lynch’s demands were a bit much.

Amellia was crucial. Its development meant expansion southeast, gaining vast inland territory, transforming Gephra from a small island nation into a vast continental power.

All Gephra’s problems—population, resources, strategic depth—would vanish.

Even facing the Federation, they would dare to challenge them. Without decisive power, no one could wipe out the other; population and depth advantages would show.

Only then could Gephra truly become the world’s strongest nation. And it might happen today.

The emperor’s excitement kept him from sleeping—his worst insomnia in two years, anxiety making him restless nights and slow mornings.

Just as he prepared to take sleeping pills with strong liquor, the phone rang again.

After two rings, he answered.

Calls transferred into the palace required multiple manual steps, so the emperor knew this call wasn’t ordinary.

On pickup, he heard the Amellia governor’s voice.

“Your Majesty, forgive the late hour. I have excellent news I’m eager to share—we have captured…”

Before the governor finished, the emperor interrupted, “You caught Swallow, right?”

The governor was surprised. “Yes, we caught him. May I ask how you knew?”

The emperor stood abruptly, paced excitedly, “Of course I knew… is he alive or dead?”

“Alive. I’ve arranged for medical care. Perhaps we can extract important information from him.”

“Good. You did well. Appointing you as governor of Amellia was my best decision. Arrange those Federation people properly—they’ll help us deal with these troubles.”

“Federation people?” The governor didn’t yet know they were from the Federation. Curious, he asked cautiously, “Your Majesty, was all this arranged by you?”

The emperor slightly raised his chin. “Indeed. Now, I’m going to rest.”

After hanging up, the emperor chuckled twice. His annoying headache vanished. He jumped back into bed, tossed around briefly, then soon fell into a deep sleep.

Early the next morning, the chamberlain and the band opened the emperor’s chamber door and were shocked to see him fully dressed, doing final preparations.

“You’re late…” The emperor turned from the full-length mirror and glanced behind him. “Some spots back there I can’t see. Any problems?”

The chamberlain quickly stepped forward, adjusted the details the emperor missed, then asked, “Your Majesty, didn’t you sleep last night?”

“I did. I had a good rest. How about Lynch? Is he up?” The emperor asked as he walked out.

The chamberlain shook his head. “It’s not even five yet, Your Majesty. If you want to see Mr. Lynch, the latest would be 9:30.”

“9:30 is too late. I’m eager to see him. Can you arrange to wake him earlier?” Lynch was now the person the emperor most wanted to meet.

It had happened so fast—this huge problem solved in less than a day. The emperor now truly believed Lynch could fix Amellia’s issues, including follow-ups.

As long as the price was right, he could outsource all these tasks to Lynch’s company. For a powerful, wealthy emperor, anything solvable with money wasn’t a problem.

If it was a problem, then finding a way to eliminate a minister wouldn’t be one either.