Infinity, The Arcade Age

It had only been a few days since they left, but when the Modern Forces returned, they suddenly realized the world had changed—it felt unfamiliar now.

The citizens in the desert city no longer seemed so hostile toward the government troops, and nearby government forces had suddenly become much more capable fighters.

Without support from the locals—when they were already losing to the enemy—the Modern Forces found themselves in an even worse position, overwhelmed and scrambling.

The local rebel leader immediately dispatched agents to gather intelligence. But once the information came back, he stared blankly at the report in his hand, completely dumbfounded.

What the hell?! What the hell is all this?!

What do they mean the government troops are distributing supplies to the people? Since when did they become so generous?

Even if they were suddenly kindhearted—where did they get all those supplies from? Could they magically produce money out of thin air now?

Oh—turns out the money came from looting the local bigshots. They raided the mansions of the wealthy, taking anything of value.

As long as someone stepped forward and identified a bigwig who'd been lording over others in the area, their home would be raided on the spot… Wait a second! Something's not right here! Isn't that our job?! Weren't we the ones sent here to protect those bigshots?!

We're supposed to be the ones raiding their homes! What are they doing raiding them?!

We're the rebels! They're the government forces!

We stand with the people to resist oppression! They stand with the elites to enforce oppression! That's how it's supposed to go!

So why the hell are they attacking their own allies now?!

Staring at the intel in his hand, the rebel commander was utterly confused.

And they weren't the only ones left in shock—those wealthy bigshots who got looted were even more baffled, completely dumbstruck.

They were the ones who had pulled strings to call in the Hound Corps, their supposed elite bodyguards, to ensure their assets wouldn't be taken by rioting commoners.

They had paid a huge sum to bring in that so-called elite force.

And now that same Hound Corps, originally sent to suppress rebellion, was using their money to win over the commoners? Then why the hell had the elites brought them in to begin with?! Weren't they basically just another rebel group now?!

Why were they getting beaten up by the rebels and the government troops? Whose side were these guys even on?!

Realizing something had gone seriously wrong, the panicked elites scrambled to make phone calls.

In the middle of the night, high-ranking federal officials who had business ties with them were woken up and quickly briefed on the situation.

Then they were stunned too.

As news reached them of the three corps commanders, along with their subordinates, who had supposedly "committed suicide by shooting themselves in the back a dozen times," everyone fell silent.

No one in their right mind would believe that crap. Seriously—try shooting yourself in the back a dozen times and see if you live. Or even die properly.

It was blatantly obvious the other side didn't even care to hide what happened. They weren't bothering with excuses—just tossing out a half-assed pretext and calling it done!

And after killing their people, those lunatics even turned around and started messing with federal assets—killing their business partners! That was outright rebellion!

So...

"Ahem! General Jemifors! That Hyena guy—he's one of yours, isn't he? Would you mind reining him in? Tell him to stop stirring up trouble everywhere! Behavior like his could cause serious social unrest!"

Several senior officials all turned to look at Jemifors.

But old General Jemifors simply lowered his head, casually trimming his fingernails, and replied without even looking up:

"Can't control him."

"You—!"

"I really can't. That little bastard even dared to hit me. I've completely lost control of him. Why don't you go try managing him?"

General Jemifors spoke as he lifted his head with a cheerful grin.

Upon hearing his words, the other senior officials showed awkward expressions and all looked down.

Manage him? How? Everyone knew by now just how formidable the Hound Corps was.

They had the guts to kill even the top commanders of other legions, brushing it off with a flimsy excuse, and showed no fear of consequences being exposed.

Faced with a force like that—if they tried to rein them in too hard, what if they ended up "committing suicide" with a dozen bullets in their backs?

And if they pushed too far and actually provoked a rebellion, what would they do then?

Dealing with one Modern Forces was already hard enough—if a Hyena joined the fray too, how would they survive?

If the Hound Corps used to make them wary, then now—with their increasingly reckless actions—they had begun to genuinely scare the high-ranking officials.

They had grown too powerful to control, completely slipping out of federal hands.

And it wasn't as if the Federation hadn't tried reclaiming their authority over the past year. But no matter the excuse, every attempt to rein them in had been met with fierce resistance.

Send people over? "Suicide by gunshot to the back."

Send in troops? They'd end up getting absorbed into the Hounds instead.

This bunch of hard-nosed lunatics didn't listen to anyone—and worse, they were fiercely loyal to their own.

Those among the higher-ups who knew that the Hyena Major General possessed special powers were now genuinely at a loss as to how to deal with the current situation.

But of course, anyone who had climbed to their level couldn't be a complete idiot.

They might be old, and maybe even corrupted by money, but their intelligence was still intact.

As thoughts raced through their minds, one of the high-ranking officials suddenly raised his head, speaking in a low, deliberate voice:

"He wants to take control of that region? Then let him. But we can't just hand over regional authority for nothing, can we, General Jemifors?"

Hearing that, Jemifors couldn't help but furrow his brow.

"And what exactly are you suggesting?"

"Let him handle Modern. Let him crush the rebel forces. If he can eliminate Modern's troops, then we'll grant him autonomous control over that region—and promote him to Five-Star General. But let's make it clear upfront: if he fails, he must withdraw from the area and follow all future government orders. No merit, no reward—that's the rule."

The official's reasoning was sound, and it made Jemifors frown a little deeper.

Being an old fox himself, he could easily hear the hidden meaning behind the man's words.

If both sides were too difficult to handle, then let them fight each other.

One dead would be one less problem. And if they both ended up destroying each other, even better.

Either way, the Federation would come out ahead. If Hyena won, the government gained; if he lost, they wouldn't be any worse off.

Jemifors looked up and gave the others a long, penetrating stare. Faced with such a proposal, he really couldn't object.

After all, the offer technically followed the rules. As a soldier of the Federation, it was perfectly reasonable for him to fight for the Federation—and it wasn't like they weren't offering anything in return.

And this particular "carrot" they were dangling was a big one: a Five-Star General title and regional autonomy. If he really got all that, he'd basically become a local warlord—just like the rest of them!

That's right. Including Jemifors, every senior official present already had their own autonomous territory—and their own personal army under exclusive command.

If Qin Ming succeeded in this mission, he'd truly become their equal.

But whether he could actually digest this massive piece of pie—or whether it would even taste good in the end—was anyone's guess.

(End of Chapter)