Shadow Empire

Chapter 1011 Car Accident and Materials

The massive march and demonstration was moving forward along the road. The person at the front would wave his fist from time to time and shout a few slogans, and the people behind him would follow suit.

As a social activist and public intellectual, organizing such events is actually quite enjoyable.

This is a very refined "job"—easy, leisurely, and prestigious.

These social activists often have titles such as scholars or experts in certain fields, but it's actually difficult for ordinary people to tell whether they are scholars or experts.

However, these identities carry great authority in the eyes of ordinary people. The less educated a person is, the narrower their access to information, and the more they believe these people and everything they say.

This is why the primary target group of social activists has always been the lower classes with low levels of education, rather than the middle and upper classes.

The middle class of the Federation is the most difficult group to deal with. They have their own thinking abilities, and their understanding of the world may be clearer than that of the upper class. It is possible to fool them.

But it's only temporary; it can't last long.

For those in high society, figuring out whether these people are genuine or not is all too easy.

Therefore, regardless of the region, social activists all target ordinary people and those at the bottom of society.

Only in these lower strata of society do their status as scholars and experts carry sufficient authority.

The supporters and fans they've swayed are their wealth.

In Jinzhou, a public intellectual with a certain social influence is invited to organize some social activities.

The price can range from a few thousand to tens of thousands of yuan, and for some very famous people, it can even be hundreds of thousands!
This job is unlike that of an assembly line worker, who has to sit in one place and repeat the same action all day long.

Their work has no fixed time, no fixed place, and no fixed content; often it's like today.

Leading a group of people to the streets for a demonstration, or giving a speech in a public place to attract onlookers, can earn thousands or tens of thousands of yuan in "sponsorship fees".

So this is a very comfortable job. You can earn a lot of money while chatting and laughing. All you need to do is show your face around and maintain your "fan base".

The people walking at the front are today's "protagonists," and behind them are their fans, or rather, their followers.

They used persuasive words to seduce these people, turning them into their loyal "listeners," and then whenever they organized an event, they would bring these people to participate.

Of course, participating doesn't mean getting nothing in return; they can get some benefits from these social activists, sometimes something worth two or three yuan.

Sometimes it might be two dollars or one dollar in cash.

Opportunities to give cash directly are rare; it's mostly about giving gifts.

This is also a form of giving back to these believers and fans.

They support these social activists, and the activists, in turn, remember them when organizing their activities, ultimately creating a closed loop.

In order to gain more benefits, these fans will be highly attached to the events organized by these social activists. The more people participate, the greater the influence of these social activists.

Their immense influence allows them to access more and better opportunities, and employers who need them are generous with their wealth, ensuring their followers reap even greater benefits.

This is a continuous cycle.

One of the blond activists, who was waving his fist and shouting slogans, asked another activist he knew after he finished, "How much money did they give you?"

Demonstrations of this scale and theme typically cost at least seven or eight thousand dollars.

The person he asked about had a good relationship with him; the two often organized various marches and demonstrations together, and could be considered friends.

His friend smiled slightly. "This client was very generous; they gave me 12,000."

Actually, it was 15,000, but he understated it by 3,000 to avoid making his friends jealous.

He hadn't taken on such a large order in many years. Fifteen thousand yuan was enough for him to go two years without taking any work and still maintain his dignity. So he didn't care who was behind the client or why they were pushing this anti-war protest.

Anyway, it happens every year, and more than once, so he doesn't think it's a problem. Besides, there are indeed some people in society who are averse to war.

The blond activist smiled faintly after hearing this. "You also got 12,000?"

"What a coincidence, me too."

In fact, the offer he received was also 15,000, but he didn't reveal the actual amount. From his perspective, telling the other party how much he could get with reservations was an important way to maintain the relationship.

But as he was talking, he asked again, "I heard that this client is backed by foreigners, Dantra people, who want to put pressure on the federal government through this method."

Others noticed their conversation and joined in.

A stylish woman in her late thirties casually remarked, "I don't really care about that. As long as they pay me, I don't care what they need me to do for them."

“People are dying in large numbers during the war, and we have no reason to participate in such a war.”

"The federal government, driven by its own ambitions and desires, is forcing our soldiers to fight and even die far from home. This should all stop!"

It is clear that this female social activist had made some preparations after accepting the job, and her words were enough to move some of her followers and inspire their continued support.

Another person said, "I heard they have a few more events at the end of this month, on the last day of this year, and on the first day of next year."

This person was clearly well-informed, and since some others were unaware of these things, they were compelled to explain in more detail.

The activist who revealed the news wore a somewhat boastful smile, and then he went on to talk about what he knew.

"They want to do something disruptive on the last day, so they'll give us much more money this time than they're giving us now."

"I heard that they'll give about 30,000 to 40,000 yuan per person!"

Everyone looked surprised when they heard the number, but quickly became excited.

Thirty or forty thousand yuan—this was the largest job opportunity they had ever encountered in their lives, and they couldn't possibly give it up.

However, some people are more concerned, saying, "The destructiveness they want refers to..."

The man lowered his voice, "What else could it be? Only vandalism, looting, and arson can attract public attention. That's what they want."

"Overturn some cars parked on the side of the road, or set fire to some garbage heaps, or do something else."

"They hope more people will pay attention to this issue and the anti-war movement. If you want to follow up on the specifics, they will let you know."

This is no longer a march; it's a chaotic demonstration, an aggressive protest that could harm or plunder others—a despicable event, which is why they gave so much money.

However, it was clear that they were not interested in the consequences, but only in whether they could get the order.

In the words of the blond social activist, even if they don't do it, someone else will.

Instead of letting others do it, they should do it themselves.

At this moment, they didn't care whether their employer was a hostile foreign force, nor did they care whether their actions would cause unrest in federal society. This is one of the biggest drawbacks of a capitalist society.

Money and wealth supersede morality!
They were discussing industry matters, such as a company CEO encountering trouble and wanting to pay people to spread rumors about him. These kinds of exchanges are rare, and everyone seemed relaxed, considering the 15,000 yuan involved.

Just as the group was passing an intersection, the woman in the group suddenly widened her eyes and looked to her left, then stood there frozen.

The others looked at her with some curiosity, but before they could turn their heads to look to the left, it was as if a gust of wind blew by.

The next second, a truck sped past like a bowling ball, and the people blocking its path were the pins that were knocked over.

The onlookers and the participants in the demonstration seemed to have been put on pause at that moment.

The truck, which was clearly out of control, left several bright red tire tracks before crashing into a roadside phone booth.

The phone booth did not collapse after the violent impact, but was tilted. The phone booth was of good quality and the construction was also quite strong. The truck was forced to stop as a result.

It wasn't until then, with a scream from a passerby, that the pause seemed to be lifted, and people began to flee in panic, while others rushed over to check on the casualties.

Some people were calling the police, some were calling for emergency medical assistance, and others were just standing around in circles, seemingly at a loss.

The entire street descended into chaos in an instant. The corpses lying haphazardly, the bloodstains on the ground, and the tire tracks silently told the surrounding people what terrible things had just happened!

Seeing this, Lance tossed the half-smoked cigarette out of the car window, patted the back of the driver's seat, and said, "Go back."

The convoy quickly turned around on the spot and left.

On his way back, he heard the sirens of police cars, ambulances, and even fire trucks. This was definitely a serious traffic accident!
Later that day, the police department disclosed the extent of the damage caused by the accident: seven people died at the scene, four others lost consciousness on the way to the hospital, and about ten others were injured.

The entire intersection was completely blocked by police and ambulances...

Senator Porter was sitting on the sofa chatting with several visitors about recent events in Congress. As one of the leading figures in the anti-war movement, he was just like the social activists on the streets.

He understood the benefits of war better than anyone else, but it had nothing to do with him. He couldn't directly benefit from the war like other senators. On the contrary, his anti-war stance brought him more social attention and some sponsorship.

So, it seems there's no need to think too much about what to do.

It's actually quite interesting how some rulers, as they're about to leave the stage of power, do some incredibly foolish things that are hard to believe.

These were terribly stupid things, but they did them anyway, as if they had suddenly lost the ability to think.

This situation is not surprising. When the only option they have is to become stupid in order to obtain the benefits they want, they can only act incredibly stupid.

Furthermore, their time on stage is running out, and they have neither the inclination nor the opportunity to seek better solutions.

Their goal was to make a killing before leaving.

“Mr. Porter, Mr. Green hopes that you can continue to amplify the anti-war voice. We need more people to hear your voice, to think about and see the pain that war brings to people.”

"Let people, let society, all reflect on whether it is necessary to continue this war."

The person he was talking to took a thick file folder from his briefcase, placed it on the table, and pushed it over.

Mr. Potter glanced at the file folder on the table, then at the other person, who gestured for him to open it and take a look.

He sat there for a moment, about ten seconds, and then decisively picked up the file folder and opened the "lock" that was wrapped with string.

Mr. Potter was somewhat disappointed to find that there was no money inside; it was all documents.

He took out the documents, unfolded them, glanced at them briefly, and his expression became more and more serious as he read. He took out his reading glasses, put them on, and began to read the reports in his hands carefully.

These are all military reports from Dantra, early military reports that mention the results of every early battle with the Federation, all of which were "great victories".

Among them were some great victories such as "annihilating 30,000 to 50,000 enemies," which Mr. Porter was unaware of.

Or perhaps some people are aware of the situation, but they are unaware because they have left the core of Congress, and there are certain things they might not let them know.

Upon seeing these reports and the figures above, he gasped in shock.

Seemingly satisfied with Mr. Porter's performance, the "contact person" sitting opposite him wore an unsettling smile. "According to incomplete statistics, the Federation has already lost more than 700,000 troops in this war."

Do you know what this means?

Mr. Potter took off his glasses and nodded. "It means we suffered at least a huge defeat and incurred unimaginable losses!"

He couldn't resist picking up one of the military reports, which mentioned that nearly 40,000 federal soldiers had been killed in a battle.

Forty thousand young children were left forever on that land, but Congress and the Department of Defense never said anything about it.

He didn't pay much attention to the reports from within the Federation, but he had a vague impression that even the deadliest war they reported on had only about 6,000 deaths.

This is still the worst-case scenario. In normal battles, the death toll might be a few hundred or a couple of thousand people. This is the limit in normal times.

Now it seems they were lying, they were talking the whole time, and he knew perfectly well why they were talking.

If the people of the Union had known that the Union was clearly at a disadvantage from the start of the war, the anti-war sentiment among the people would have arisen on its own without anyone having to push it.

It was precisely because they concealed these truths that people believed the losses were not so severe, and only after comparing them with what they gained from the war did they accept the war.

"You mean you want me to disclose this data?" Mr. Potter's expression remained grave.

Before the other party could nod or agree with his point of view, he shook his head and said, "That's very difficult to do. This data and intelligence are too sensitive. There are probably fewer than ten or twenty people in the entire Federation who are qualified to know this data."

“I am now a marginal figure in Congress. I am not qualified to access this data and intelligence. Even if I disclose it, it may not have the effect you want.”

“They can say that these are all made up and have no factual basis, after all, the Ministry of National Defense and the military are on their side.”

"And they will tear me to pieces!"

How did Mr. Potter obtain this kind of intelligence that only "enemies" could get his hands on?
He couldn't explain it at all, and even if he could, telling the truth wouldn't yield any good results; he would definitely be labeled a traitor or a collaborator with the enemy.

As a politician, although he will soon be leaving politics, it doesn't mean he's about to die.

With his current wealth and status, he should be able to live for at least another ten years or so without any problem.

He didn't want to die young, so he rejected the suggestion.

The contact sitting opposite him did not give up. "Mr. Potter, you've actually misunderstood something."

"You don't need to disclose it yourself. Just give some material that doesn't seem too outrageous to someone who can disclose it, like a journalist."

"Then society and public opinion will question the authenticity of the data released by the federal government, and then we'll find a way to spread this material. Wouldn't that achieve our goal?"

He placed a check on the table and pushed it over, it had a long string of zeros on it, "This is your payment if you're willing to cooperate with us."

Looking at that long string of zeros, Mr. Potter was slightly tempted.

Just then, the telephone on the table suddenly rang, startling him...

(End of this chapter)