212: Those scumbags who are getting in our way!

(Two-in-One)

What did it mean for several First-Class Citizen families to want the Marshal to be "easily soluble in water"?

What did it mean for the Marshal to want to sweep away the First-Class Citizen class?

Celius watched the footage repeatedly, trying to understand something,

but it was clear that as a military man, he was not skilled in power struggles and could not fully grasp the intricate twists and turns within.

He only managed to discern two points.

First, the Marshal of The Consortium was fighting the Empire and was short on money, so he wanted to tax those categorized as First-Class Citizens.

However, those people were unwilling to pay taxes, so they joined forces to trip up the Marshal's subordinates.

Second, while The Consortium appeared to be the Marshal's one-man show, he seemingly lacked the final say in many areas.

Take this conscription bill, for example. On the surface, it looked like a few high-level officials had signed and stamped it, launching a vote that was essentially a formality.

In reality, this bill was tied to dozens or even hundreds of interest groups, large and small; if one looked closely, it could involve thousands or tens of thousands of organizations.

Celius was at a loss—

Initially, he thought the culprits behind the inhumane treatment of those scholars were The Consortium officials who had signed this document.

So, he wanted to seek revenge against those officials, thinking that by capturing them, he could make the masterminds pay the price.

But reality told him that he had been thinking much too simply—

The true enemies were hidden deep away, and he had merely fired a shot at their shield.

Even if his infiltration mission captured all The Consortium officials, the only one with any real connection would be the Marshal. The other true masterminds would only have their clothes slightly dirtied; they effectively paid no price at all.

The more he read, the darker Celius's face became.

In the end, he simply stuffed the datapad into the arms of the operator beside him and said,

"These twists and turns are so damn troublesome—"

"Report it. This is no longer a problem we can solve."

The operator was stunned.

"Then what do we do now..."

Celius straightened his collar, adapting to the body of The Consortium Colonel. His expression regained its previous decisiveness as he continued:

"Now?"

"Now is the same: go capture The Consortium's Marshal!"

"The target is set, and it's unrealistic to change it now. We'll decide everything else after the mission is complete!"

With that, he began to confirm the identification and documents on his person.

Those were the key props he would need to sneak into that office shortly.

First were the documents in his hand.

Two were battle reports between the Empire and The Consortium. One used formal language, filled with terms like "shifting battlefronts," "reinforcements," and "redeployments." On paper, it was all "win, win, win," like some sort of propaganda pamphlet.

The other was the real front line. Contrary to the first, this report used casual and colloquial language, and it was entirely filled with "loss, loss, loss."

There was also a completely sealed file that could not be opened for inspection.

The documents were correct. According to the memory extraction file he had just read, these were the papers he was supposed to hand over.

Next was the identification... Officer ID, correct; pass, correct; access card... where's the access card?!

To enter the Marshal's room, one had to pass through three levels of authentication, and the access card was the first!

Suddenly, Celius broke into a cold sweat.

Where was this guy's access card...? He hurriedly searched his other pockets while looking at the rest of the combat team, asking:

"When we carried him over just now, did the access card fall out of his pocket?"

The other nine people looked at each other. After ten seconds, one team member slowly raised his hand, holding two black magnetic cards, and asked:

"Are you... talking about these?"

Immediately following that, except for the operator, the other eight members of the squad silently pulled several magnetic cards from their pockets—some black, some silver, and even some dark gold.

"You can stop looking... if you need this kind of card, we have plenty."

Celius locked eyes with them. Looking at the handfuls of magnetic cards everyone was holding, he asked with a bewildered expression:

"Did you guys go and loot the lockers of this space station?"

"No," one team member replied, "we wouldn't stoop to rummaging through trash."

"We just picked these up."

Celius: ...When did this happen? How did he not know?

"What else did you pick up?"

*Cough, cough—*

"Didn't we think they might be useful?"

"We just brought a few things back while we were scouting."

"Don't worry, we were careful. night lamp confirmed the targets would stay in one place for two or three days."

"At least until the mission is over, there won't be any trouble."

Celius massaged his forehead and said:

"Just use some discretion. Whatever you do, don't alert the enemy. Understand?"

"Don't worry, understood!"

Looking at this group of teammates, Celius didn't know what to say for a moment.

Fine, at least the access problem was temporarily solved.

He took the thick stack of access cards. With night lamp's identification, he pulled out a black one, tucked it into his uniform pocket, checked his implanted personal terminal once more, and turned to walk out—

"I'm heading out now. Stay ready to support me at any moment."

...Walking down the hall, "Celius" felt a strange sensation surrounding him.

The sentries on duty were fine; they just checked his ID and saluted like usual.

But those patrolling guards—though they were clearly unfamiliar faces—always gave him a strange sense of familiarity.

Were his senses deceiving him? Or was it the original muscle memory of this body?

Forget it, it didn't matter.

Soon, he reached the end of the corridor, his destination—

The Marshal's office.

Two well-trained sentries stepped forward, briefly checked him for hazardous items, and then casually asked:

"Colonel Garna, aren't you a bit late today?"

"Celius" shook the documents in his hand and replied just as casually:

"There's a lot of stuff today, so I'm a bit late."

"Also, call me Karl."

"Understood, Colonel Garna."

The sentry smiled, stepped aside, and let "Celius" inside.

That bit just now was a small habit of the original owner; specifically, he didn't like people calling him by his surname.

Celius only knew this after seeing the memory summary provided by night lamp.

Was that a test?

No, the sentries here shouldn't be that bored, and they wouldn't use such a simple method for a test. That was probably just a bit of idle chatter.

"Celius" thought to himself while expressionlessly following the standard procedure, inserting the access card and activating the biometric authentication.

A white light emerged, scanning his retinas repeatedly, and then—

"Verification successful. Welcome, Colonel Karl Garner."

Upon entering, there was a small vestibule. Once the rear door slowly closed, a nozzle suddenly extended from above, spraying a pungent white mist.

It took nearly ten minutes for the disinfection to complete.

"Celius" waited with a speechless expression—

Is this really necessary? He's that afraid of dying!

*Beep, beep, beep—*

Once the mist had mostly dissipated, the high-hanging red indicator light finally turned green with a "click." The heavy inner door made a hissing sound as it slowly slid open to both sides.

The "office" finally appeared before him.

The first thing he saw were two guards wearing powered armor, standing on either side like door gods.

The memory extraction from Karl was clearly not that complete; at the very least, he didn't remember the layout of this office or the distribution of personnel.

He only remembered that a Marshal sat at the desk on the left.

He didn't look around but simply took the documents in his hand and walked straight toward the Marshal.

Stepping up to the desk, "Celius" stole a glance at the "Marshal"—

He didn't look very energetic; his face was pale, his skin was loose, his eyes were bloodshot, and his dark circles were deeper than those of a corporate slave who had worked overtime for over a decade.

If one looked closely, they could see his fingertips trembling slightly.

Was this the man known as the brightest sun of The Consortium—Marshal Dietrich Claude?

Suddenly, the Marshal, who looked as if he might drop dead at any moment, looked up and toward "Celius."

"Karl? You're here?"

"Put the things here. I want to ask you something—"

"I've treated you well, haven't I?"

Before his mind could react, his body moved in the next second, relying on muscle memory—

He first began to cry "emotionally," then wailed with a heart-wrenching voice:

"Marshal—my beloved Marshal!!!"

"To me, you have always been like the kindest father, a person worthy of eternal remembrance!!!"

"At the same time, you are that eternal red sun that guides my way!!!"

"Alright, stop it."

Dietrich waved his hand irritably, interrupting him.

"No need for acting or being flamboyant."

"I'm not going to eat you."

With that, he raised his still-trembling hand and picked up the documents on the desk, asking casually—

"Strange, why is there an extra battle report today?"

"Have those people finally finished regrouping and advancing, and are now willing to begin the offensive?"

"Celius" was still using his peripheral vision and reflections in the glass and mirrors to observe the layout of the office, thinking about how he would deal with this guy later.

When he heard Marshal Dietrich's words, he thought to himself: this is bad.

Things were going to go south! He had wondered why there were two battle reports!

It turned out one of them wasn't meant for the Marshal at all!

"Why is it still 'advancing'?"

"Cosmic Army Legion A-2284-87 advancing toward Ursa Major V14.87? Legion B-787-9921 continuing to regroup the main force in Ursa Major V12? Concentrating resources from Ursa Major V12.38 for transfer?"

"Why is it all 'advancing'! All 'regrouping'! Is The Consortium's Cosmic Army really so loose and undisciplined!"

"A mere provocation from the Empire! Have we been running for so long that not even a single fleet is willing to take the initiative to engage the enemy!"

As he spoke, he desperately flipped through the battle report in his hand, trying to find one that looked slightly better.

But not a single one satisfied him.

Soon, Dietrich finished reading the first battle report and picked up the second one, but he didn't open it yet.

He first looked at the standing "Celius" and said in a relatively relaxed tone,

"Don't worry. You were adopted by me as a child and raised until now."

"You should know that our great Consortium is not like this—"

"She just hasn't turned for a long time."

"And these so-called 'advances' and 'regroupings' are just re-oiling this ancient war machine."

"Our Cosmic Army still has countless powerful A-class Legions. Once they have accumulated enough strength, they will strike like a powerful fist, smashing into the Empire's face."

"Just wait—as soon as our elite fleets in the Ursa Major region launch their attack, the Empire's ridiculous offensive spearhead will be crushed by us in no time!"

After speaking, he opened the battle report in his hand.

"That damnable Ministry of National Defense."

"Every day they bring a bunch of retreat reports disguised as 'victories' and dare to send them up as good news."

"I want to see what kind of world-shaking thing they've written when they're allowed to write independently."

With that, he flipped open the real battle report—

*Pfft—!!!*

Before he had even looked for a second, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

On the first page of that battle report, it was written clearly: Legion A-2284-87 was surrounded and annihilated today at Ursa Major V14.85.

"Im-Impossible!"

Dietrich suddenly acted like a gambler who had lost everything, violently slamming the battle report in his hand onto the floor.

Then he immediately glared at "Celius" and said viciously:

"Karl! Is this you! Did you come up with this—"

"No, why! Why would you forge this kind of battle report and bring it here!"

"Celius" was startled by Dietrich's sudden outburst, but he still feigned composure and replied:

"My Marshal! I accidentally saw this report at the Ministry of National Defense—"

"I felt you had the right to know, so I brought it over."

Dietrich fell silent for a moment, and then his anger subsided.

He sat down tremblingly, took off his glasses, and tried to place them on the desk.

But he tried several times, and each time he couldn't place them correctly or let go of them.

In the end, he simply swung his hand violently, smashing the glasses onto the desk, and shouted:

"Damnable Ministry of National Defense!"

"Things that deceive those above and below!!!"

"The scum standing in my way!!!"

Saying this, he looked at "Celius," pulled him close, and said with great emotion:

"Think about it. Our Consortium started during the time of the Great Restoration."

"Relying on the efforts of three generations of the Claude Family, we successfully stood at the pinnacle of the sea of stars."

"It was me! It was my family! It was the efforts of our three generations!"

He stood up shakily.

"And those scum in the Ministry of National Defense!"

"They only know how to trip me up! Fighting for power! Deceiving those above and below!"

"Damnable fools!"

"I am absolutely furious!!!"

Suddenly, he grabbed Celius's shoulder and said in a low voice:

"Since you chose to bring this to me,"

"There is no doubt that you are a truly loyal official—"

"I am giving you a power now!"

"I give you the supreme command authority of the Imperial Guard Legion!!!"

"And you! Right now!"

"Take those damnable high-level officials from the Ministry of National Defense and whatever other mess!"

"Shoot them all! All of them!"

"Execute those damnable Traitors!"

...