life copy game

Chapter 1766 The Hell Manager's 'Secret' (Long Chapter, Requesting Monthly Tickets)
“I’m just a soldier. I’m only responsible for proposing strategies that I think should be implemented,” Veslo said calmly, taking a sip of coffee and looking at the person across the sofa. “As for political issues, that’s your business. What I see now is that the conglomerates and the Central Army are coming on strong. They are more powerful than us. If we don’t seize the initiative sooner, the longer it goes on, the more passive we will become.”

“I think you want to start a civil war and sell war,” the figure who had just spoken leaned back on the sofa and straightened his pilling white silk suit. “If the civil war really starts, you, as the commander of the city defense army, will become the actual commander-in-chief and gain merit and fame. If you succeed, you will become the biggest beneficiary of the war.”

He slightly raised his gaze to look at Christos behind the desk. "But we are being dragged into the battlefield by you, facing the threat of death."

“I’ve said it before, I’m just a soldier. A soldier’s duty is to propose the right combat strategy at the right time,” Veslo said, taking a sip of coffee. “Clearly, the danger comes not from ourselves, but from our enemies. As for the political statements and maneuvering, I’ve said it before, that’s your business.”

“I don’t think you’re a soldier,” the man sneered, “but rather an ambitious man who wants to start a war. If the Federation really starts a civil war, tens of thousands of lives will be lost because of your decision.”

"You're just afraid of dying, aren't you?" A short-haired man in casual clothes said directly. "In the end, you still want to surrender."

"Aren't you afraid of death?" The man in the white suit raised his eyes and stared at the short-haired man. "You're so diligent, why don't you join the city defense army, take command of General Vislo, and launch a night raid outside the city tonight?"

“If Dawn City needs me, I’m ready to go to the battlefield anytime,” the short-haired man said, arms crossed. “I’m not like those people who are already transferring assets and preparing to flee before the gunfire even starts.”

"What do you mean?" The man in the white suit asked, his gaze darkening slightly.

“It’s nothing,” the short-haired man chuckled. “I just happened to notice that your family is selling off assets, and your youngest son has already left Dawn City, hasn’t he?”

"You investigated me?" The man in the white suit asked coldly.

As he spoke, he glanced to the side unconsciously, looking at Christos behind the desk.

At that moment, Christos was flipping through a document, seemingly oblivious to everything.

“I just happened to see it,” the short-haired man said casually, glancing sideways at Christos.

“Actually, I think General Veslow’s strategy is very feasible,” a figure in a brown suit sitting in the middle of the crowd said slowly. “In the short term, if this plan goes smoothly, it can indeed solve our current predicament.”

He looked up at Veslow, who was drinking coffee, and continued, "But this can only bring short-term victory. In the long run, being branded as the instigator of a civil war is extremely politically disadvantageous."

He raised his gaze, glanced at Christos who had stopped flipping through the documents, and continued, "Currently, the corporations and Graystone Palace are already stronger than us. If they succeed in portraying us as the instigators of the civil war, and drag those neutral cities into it as well, gathering the entire Federation's power to deal with us, then the situation we will face will only get worse."

Veslo sipped his coffee, and this time, he remained silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“They’ve practically pointed guns at our heads,” the short-haired man in casual clothes said angrily. “Are we supposed to kneel down and beg them? Isn’t this considered starting a civil war?”

"As it stands, they're making military movements within the bounds of the law," the man in the brown suit said slowly. "While they've effectively surrounded us, it's still understandable from a disciplinary standpoint."

"The conglomerate and mercenary groups have surrounded us several times already. Are they the only ones who can fight us?" the short-haired man said angrily.

“The previous few incidents were all minor skirmishes, and the conglomerate could easily explain them away as a mercenary group going off on its own,” the man in the brown suit said slowly. “Besides, the war didn’t escalate as the situation dictated. If we were to take action, they would only have something to hold against us.”

"So they can only hit us, and we can't hit them?" the short-haired man said indignantly. "What kind of logic is that?!"

This statement left the man in the brown suit somewhat helpless. "With the Central Army involved this time, perhaps we can observe their attitude."

“So, in the end, this war can’t be fought!” the man in the white suit interjected.

"Who told you to speak?" the short-haired man retorted almost instantly, glaring at the man in the white suit. "Who asked you?"

“Alright,” Christos said, putting down the documents in his hand as he sat behind his desk. “Let’s end the meeting here today. Everyone go back and rest. We still need to do the basic resettlement and publicity work. Production should continue as usual, and people should continue their lives. We need to keep trade routes running and avoid creating panic.”

"Okay." "Alright." ...

Everyone paused slightly, glanced at Christos, some nodded, and some remained silent.

Finally, everyone slowly got up and went to get the hats and clothes hanging to the side.

“Ultimately, we cannot bear the title of instigator of this civil war,” the man in the white suit said slowly. “Once a war begins, it cannot be easily ended.”

"Why can't it end so easily? Can't we still surrender?" the short-haired man retorted.

"Alright, alright, let's not argue about this now." The man in the brown suit quickly came over and pulled the two of them towards the office exit.

Veslo walked last, and after everyone else had left, he finally finished his coffee and placed the empty cup on the bar counter.

At that moment, he happened to see Christos walking over and placing his coffee cup.

"If a full-scale war really breaks out, what do you think our chances of winning are?" Christos put his coffee cup on the table and asked slowly.

"In the best-case scenario, if we unite with our allies, and if the Nolanca Group, the City of Ilan, and the City of Winter all participate, and we stand together, then we might be able to prolong the war, achieve a greater victory with a smaller force, and have a chance of winning."

Veslow didn't seem surprised by Christos's question. He continued in a low voice, "In that case, I think there's a 30% chance we can force them to sit down at the negotiating table and reach a deal that's relatively favorable to us."

He looked at Christos and said, “The worst-case scenario is that all our allies are cut up and defeated one by one, in which case the probability of us getting them to the negotiating table will be less than 10%.”

“If we don’t negotiate,” Christos looked at him, “what do you think our chances of winning are?”

Upon hearing Christos's question, Veslow paused for a moment, then sighed deeply, shook his head, and said...
"I see no hope of victory."

"As you know, the gap between us and the conglomerates and Graystone Palace is enormous. It's not just a gap in sphere of influence and population, but also a gap in technological level and industrial strength."

"The Ives Space System is our largest supplier. Our bullets and cannons are all made by the enemy. Once they cut off the supply, we won't even be able to find a place to maintain our weapons. The entire weapon system will even be regressed by an era, and we won't be able to resupply. We'll use a portion and then have less left."

"Although the Nolanca Group can handle some of the production capacity and has some cutting-edge technology, the gap in overall technological level is not so easy to bridge. Such a technological gap means the difference between life and death on the battlefield."

He paused for a moment, then said slowly and hoarsely, "The best outcome I can think of right now is 'negotiation,' but direct negotiation won't work. We need to achieve some results before we can negotiate."

He looked at Christos, "What you can't get on the battlefield, you can't get at the negotiating table either."

"I understand." Christos rubbed his temples and sighed softly.

He picked up a military cap from the coat rack and handed it to Vislo, saying, "Be careful lately."

“I know,” Veslow nodded, pulling his hat up over his head and looking at Christos. “The deputy mayor hasn’t returned yet?”

"It should be soon. I don't know where he's gone now," Christos said, shaking his head with a slight sigh.

He turned his gaze to the city standing tall in the light behind him.

Faintly, raindrops could be seen falling from the sky.

-

Vicar City
Tick-tock—tick-tock—tick-tock—

The pattering raindrops slid down the ribs of the transparent umbrella, dripping onto the small puddles formed on the dilapidated street, splashing up tiny, spreading droplets.

His bounty advertisement was playing on a large screen outside a shopping mall not far away. The bounty had increased from 100 million to 120 million.

Compared to the shock of the previous 100 million, the increase of 20 million seems less 'exciting'.

Pedestrians came and went on the road, but few even stopped to discuss the reward.

hum-

As the bracelet vibrated with an incoming call, He Ao raised his hand and answered the phone.

"Good evening, handsome old man." Medara's somewhat charming voice came from the other end of the phone. "Have you arrived in Vicart yet? I just got the latest news that Wilder left Vicart this morning. If you haven't arrived yet, you don't have to come over."

“I’m already here,” He Ao said hoarsely.

"What?" Medara asked with interest, "You came up empty-handed?"

“Not entirely,” He Ao said casually, “I dealt with some issues.”

Then he asked slowly, "Can you help me investigate someone? I can't contact my old intelligence network right now."

Medara laughed and said, "You're a hot commodity in the eyes of your 'old friends' now. One hundred million! That's cash! Even the big shots in our family might not be able to squeeze out that much cash all at once. I'm tempted just looking at it."

“The price has gone up,” He Ao said casually, glancing at the advertisement screen with the huge reward not far away. “It’s now 120 million.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a voice with a slight inhale, "Handsome old man, if you sold this by weight, it would probably be more expensive than an angel-level alien beast. What exactly did you do? Never mind, we can't continue this topic. So, who do you want me to help you investigate? Male or female?"

“A woman,” He Ao said hoarsely, “whose name is Morolin. She’s a black market dealer who used to work in Wetland for a while, selling supernatural items. Later she went to Serovice. She should be quite famous in the supernatural black market. Can you help me find out where she is now?”

“You still have female friends?” Medara’s voice trailed off slightly. “Who is she? Your ex-girlfriend? I thought you didn’t like women anymore.”

“I don’t like your type,” He Ao said directly. “Molorine and I have done business together. I have some questions for her. Get back to me as soon as possible. I’m leaving the city soon.”

“Tsk, what a heartless man,” Medara chuckled with a hint of reproach. “Fine, I’ll investigate for you. Wait for me, and I’ll get back to you in half an hour, whether I find anything or not.”

She immediately hung up the phone.

He Ao lowered his head, looked at the bracelet with the screen off, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

Mollorine was the black market merchant who sold the 'master ingredient' to Hawke's Hell manager back then.

To be precise, what she sold to Hawke was not the 'main material' of the Hell Manager, but a talent sequence fusion material extracted directly from the dead Hell Manager.

Hawke didn't care about these things, and he didn't ask where the main ingredient came from. According to the rules of the black market, Mororin probably wouldn't tell either.

After all, there are far too many superhumans who have died in this world. There's no need to try to figure out which talent sequence came from which superhuman. Sometimes, it just adds unnecessary trouble for yourself.

But now the situation is slightly different.

Heo not only saw part of Wilde's memories, but also the memories of the Death Priest.

However, the Death Priest's memories were erased even more thoroughly, and no memories related to this incident could be found at all. Moreover, the mark on the Death Priest's body was also stronger, and he completed his self-destruction almost the instant Heo touched his soul.

At that time, He Ao could only rely on some keyword indexes to retrieve all the memories he could get his hands on.

The retrieved memories were few, and most were fragmented and invalid. Only a small fragment caught He Ao's attention.

That is, this Death Priest had heard some gossip about the Death Cult.

There used to be a 'Hell Manager' in the Death Cult.

But for some reason, the Hell Manager died inexplicably, leaving only his talent sequence. Then a new person became the new Hell Manager, but he soon repeated the fate of his predecessor, dying inexplicably and leaving behind his talent sequence.

However, there are quite a few people within the Church of Death who follow the path of psychic-mortician, and many of them are exceptionally talented and have reached rank B. Through various means, they have obtained this talent sequence and completed their advancement.

And so, this talent sequence changed hands four or five times, each holding it for a different period of time, but all of them eventually died inexplicably.

Therefore, rumors began to circulate within the Death God Cult that the Hell Manager's talent sequence contained some kind of strange secret, but no one dared to attempt to advance in this talent sequence anymore.

Later, one day, this talent sequence mysteriously disappeared from the Church of Death.

Those who want to be promoted can no longer see this talent sequence.

I need some votes at the end of the month.