179: Chapter 179 Blood and Fire Burn the Power, the New Emperor Establishes His Authority

What appeared on the screen was neither a dancer nor a landscape, but a cold, stern face.

Zhang Cheng.

He was not on his way to the hotel, but sitting in the command room of the field camp, holding a cup of tea, coldly watching this group of "dignitaries" making fools of themselves.

"Everyone, is the food to your liking?" Zhang Cheng's voice echoed throughout the hall via the surround sound system, carrying a chill that made people's spines tingle.

"Zhang Cheng! What the hell are you playing at?!" Zhao Han, emboldened by the alcohol, pointed at the screen and cursed, "Is this your way of treating guests? Turn the lights on immediately!"

Zhang Cheng smiled, and that smile, set against the eerie blue light of the screen, appeared particularly sinister.

"Elder Zhao, didn't you say you wanted to teach me a lesson? I think you're right; I really should learn."

Zhang Cheng set down his tea cup, leaned forward slightly, and his eyes instantly turned ferocious, "Don't you all like to band together? Don't you like playing at 'democratic voting'? Don't you love having 'autonomy' on the tip of your tongues?"

"Then I will grant your wish. Tonight, right here, you shall 'govern yourselves' properly and eternally."

As soon as he finished speaking, a strange hissing sound suddenly emanated from the ventilation ducts around the banquet hall.

A pungent odor quickly filled the air.

"This... what is this smell? Gasoline?!" someone screamed in terror.

"The door! The door won't open!"

"The windows! The windows have been sealed shut too! It's steel plating!"

Panic erupted instantly like a plague. These big shots, who usually lived in luxury, were now crashing about like headless flies, desperately pounding on the heavy doors.

"Zhang Cheng! How dare you! This is a massacre! This is a crime against humanity!" Zhao Han finally realized what was happening, the alcohol completely drained from his system by fear, and he roared at the screen, "If you kill me, my one hundred thousand subjects in Shan State will not let you get away with this!"

"One hundred thousand subjects?" Zhang Cheng sneered, "They are dying for you to die. Only when you die can they divide the land and live a good life. As for a massacre..."

Zhang Cheng pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it open; the flame danced on the screen.

"I call this—clearing out pests. For the health of the nation, someone has to be the villain."

"Old K, do it."

Following Zhang Cheng's order, several fully armed Death Soldiers on the perimeter of the hotel pressed the detonators in their hands.

"Boom—!"

On the walls surrounding the banquet hall, the pre-planted incendiary bombs detonated simultaneously!

It wasn't a violent explosion, but the instantaneous release of napalm at thousands of degrees of heat!

Fire!

Monstrous flames instantly swallowed the entire perimeter of the hall, like fire dragons roaring as they surged toward the crowd in the center.

"Ah—!!"

"Help! Help me!!"

"Zhang Cheng! I won't let you go even if I become a ghost!!"

Screams, wails, and curses instantly pierced the sky.

Those usually well-dressed dignitaries were now struggling and rolling in the raging fire. Some tried to rush the doors, only to be instantly ignited into human torches by the heat; others hid under tables, only to be crushed by melting chandeliers; even more suffocated in the thick smoke and were burned to charred remains in despair.

This was a purgatory.

On this side of the screen, Zhang Cheng watched it all with an expressionless face.

Li Lanzhi stood behind him, her face pale, and she turned her head away, unable to bear it.

"Do you find it cruel?" Zhang Cheng asked calmly.

"A little..." Li Lanzhi's voice trembled.

"Lan Zhi, you must remember." Zhang Cheng pointed at the distorted faces on the screen, "Every one of these people has hands stained with the blood of the common people. As long as they live, the country will always be a scattered mess, forever a paradise for drugs and fraud. Their 'democracy' is a democracy of dividing spoils; their 'autonomy' is an autonomy of preying on the people."

"If we want to build high-rise buildings on these ruins, we must first dig out these rotten roots, along with the soil, and burn them clean!"

Zhang Cheng stood up and turned off the screen.

"Notify the fire department; wait until the fire has burned out before going to 'extinguish' it. Issue a public announcement: The Golden Royal Hotel suffered a massive fire due to aging wiring, and all the attending representatives... unfortunately perished. The government expresses its deepest condolences and will hold a state funeral."

"This... this is politics." Zhang Cheng adjusted his collar and turned to walk out of the command room, "Let's go, there's a more important meeting to hold tomorrow."

...

That night, the fire in Naypyidaw lit up half the sky.

The entire city was trembling.

Everyone knew that it wasn't some "aging wiring"; it was a blood sacrifice before the new emperor's ascension.

The next morning, when the first rays of sunlight fell upon the hotel ruins, the air was still filled with a nauseating smell of burnt matter.

Hundreds of charred corpses were carried out and laid out neatly in the square.

Those survivors who had originally been watching from the sidelines, hesitating, or even planning to make some small moves, looked at this scene and felt a chill shoot straight from the soles of their feet to their scalps, their very souls trembling.

They finally understood one truth:

In this country, Zhang Cheng's word is the law of heaven.

Whoever dares to block the way, this is the end they meet.

The second "National Reconciliation and Development Conference" was convened again on the third day after the "fire accident."

The location was still the Parliament Building.

Only this time, the venue was empty; many people were missing.

Those faces that had once spouted nonsense, slammed tables, and glared in the hall had all turned into ashes in urns.

The remaining representatives were all submissive, sitting on their chairs without daring to breathe loudly, not even daring to sit fully, only perched on the edge, terrified that the chairs might also be rigged with some trap.

The entire venue was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop; only the "whooshing" sound of the air conditioning vents could be heard, sounding to everyone's ears like the breath of the Grim Reaper.

Nine o'clock in the morning.

The doors opened.

Zhang Cheng walked in.

He was still wearing that Zhongshan suit, his stride steady, his expression normal, as if the earth-shattering fire from three days ago had nothing to do with him.

But with every step he took, the heartbeats of the representatives present quickened.

He walked to the center of the podium and did not sit down immediately, but instead swept his gaze across the room like lightning, slowly surveying the audience.

Those swept by his gaze all lowered their heads, cold sweat breaking out all over their bodies, wishing they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

"Everyone."

Zhang Cheng spoke, his voice gentle, even carrying a hint of a smile, "How unfortunate. That accident three days ago caused us to lose many 'old friends.' Elder Zhao and the others... passed away very peacefully."

Hearing the word "peacefully," a few representatives with poor nerves nearly slid off their chairs.

That's called peaceful? That was a barbecue!

"However, those who are alive must continue to move forward. A country cannot be without a leader for a day, and the constitution cannot be left undetermined for a day."

Zhang Cheng tapped on the table, "Regarding the 'Draft New Federal Constitution' from last time, the one about centralizing power and unifying the military and government—everyone has had three days to think about it, surely you've all figured it out by now, right?"

"Now, we shall vote again."

Zhang Cheng waved his hand, and the large screen lit up again, still displaying that familiar draft.

"I am a very democratic person. Who is in favor, and who is opposed?"

Zhang Cheng asked calmly, then pulled a black pistol from his jacket and, with a "clack," gently laid it on the table.

The sound was not loud, but in the deathly silent venue, it was deafening.

"I... I am in favor!"

A minor warlord who had originally been in the opposition camp jumped up as if electrocuted, raising his hand and shouting, his voice cracking, "Chairman Zhang's proposal is brilliant and formidable! It is for the good of the country! For the good of the nation! Whoever opposes it is a sinner of history! I firmly support it!"

With the first person taking the lead, the others instantly reacted.