Blackstone Code-Chapter 212:

On November 21, negotiations between the mayor of Sabin City and representatives of the striking workers made no valuable progress. The workers' demands exceeded the bottom line of the mayor and the capitalist representatives involved in the talks.

They were asking for higher wages, fewer working hours, and better benefits.

If the negotiations had focused on a single demand or if the demands were more modest, then an agreement might have been possible, as was the case with the water company's workers whose modest demands paved the way for an agreement.

However, the demands of these striking worker representatives were too excessive. The most laughable was one worker representative's demand to reduce the weekly working hours from sixty to fifty, with a five percent wage increase, and a requirement for meat and fresh fruit at lunch every day.

Such demands were utterly unacceptable to the capitalists, no matter what. Consequently, the fifteen worker representatives maintained a unified front, even though some workers were open to negotiations. For the sake of unity, they refused to compromise.

The ongoing disagreements turned the negotiations into a farce, ending in mutual accusations and insults between the worker representatives and the capitalists.

This convinced the workers that the mayor had no genuine intention of negotiating, believing he sided with the capitalists. Coupled with the provocation by a small group and the escalation of the Bupayne shooting incident, the unrest in Sabin City and throughout the state escalated once more.

People began openly engaging in looting, arson, and vandalism, even shouting slogans like "Who dares to shoot me" as they broke the law, expressing their dissatisfaction with the current situation.

Some people understood that this behavior was wrong, but chose not to speak out, as doing so was not wise at the moment.

On November 23, seeing the situation spiraling out of control, the governor delivered a public speech, urging all citizens to return to their homes and secure their doors and windows to protect their safety and property.

He also urged those engaging in the vandalism and looting to turn themselves in and demanded an immediate end to the out-of-control demonstrations.

These commands, seemingly dictatorial, had no effect. People's freedom was precious, and despite their hunger and physical exhaustion, they continued to march with banners, weakly shouting slogans.

At 7:30 PM on November 24, the governor personally signed the year's first gubernatorial order and notified the Ministry of Defense and other relevant agencies. The state would enter a state of military control starting at 5:30 AM on November 25.

A gubernatorial order was an executive order issued during special periods, granting the governor temporary supreme authority over military and political affairs within the state when the situation was too severe to wait for presidential or congressional approval.

Of course, after the situation ended, the governor would be subject to joint investigations by the National Security Council, the Federal Internal Affairs Committee, and other federal security departments, and would attend congressional hearings.

If it was deemed that the governor's decisions were appropriate, the matter would end there. If issues were found with the governor's actions and handling of the situation, an investigation may be launched.

This time, the governor ordered that anyone outside the specified time frames should not be on the streets, should not approach or confront the military personnel on duty, and should cease all acts of looting, arson, and vandalism, or face the severest consequences.

At 8 PM, this announcement spread rapidly to every household in the state via television, filling people with fear and anger.

This was seen as an insult and trampling on human rights and freedom!

It was a desecration of the precious spirit of federal freedom!

That same night, the mayor announced a second round of the negotiations to begin on November 27, which he would still preside over.

Also that night, the workers' union held an emergency meeting to discuss their strategy.

The rapid spread of this strike wave across the federation was largely due to the crucial role played by the workers' union.

Simply put, workers in one city wouldn't know about strikes in a city thousands of kilometers away, but the union did.

Driven by their interests, the union began to relay messages and connect worker organizations across the country, turning what could have been minor, frequent local strikes into a massive, nationwide strike. 𝘳аNỔᛒËṣ

With the situation now so dire and some demands unmet, the union was unsure if they should continue.

After an all-night meeting, they decided to gauge the authorities' attitude before deciding their next steps.

To do this, they sent people to test the waters.

At 5:30 AM on November 25, with the city of Sabin still shrouded in darkness in the late autumn and early winter, soldiers fully armed began to enter the city along major routes.

At that moment, a group of workers with varying expressions blocked their path. They linked arms, standing tall and fearless, singing the famous song "Long Live the Free Federation," staring directly at the soldiers to prevent their advance.

A car at the front of the convoy came to a stop. A blond, blue-gray-eyed major, around thirty years old, stepped out and leaned against the car door, looking at the ordinary people blocking their path. His impeccable appearance and uniform gave him a heavy aura.

However, because he was standing behind the car's headlights, the people could only see two very bright headlights and a somewhat blurry shadow; they couldn't make out his appearance.

The major checked his watch. "There are five minutes until 5:30. According to the governor's order, everyone must be home and under military control by 5:30."

He lowered his wrist, coldly staring at the workers. "You have four minutes left. If you are still in my sight after four minutes, you won't be going home."

Among the striking workers blocking the soldiers' path, some had already started to feel their legs go weak. In fact, those who dared to test the situation at this moment, knowing they could agree to the union's demands (represented by worker representatives, not direct contact with the union), were very brave people.

But when facing these indifferent soldiers, their courage for vandalising and looting seemed to be rapidly disappearing.

The loss of courage also made the song they were singing sound less majestic and more dispirited and timid. This was not the style in which "Long Live the Free Federation" should be sung.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

The major stood calmly in front of the car, hands behind his back, his blue-gray eyes coldly observing the people.

After a moment, he spoke again. "Three minutes left…"

The singing weakened further. If they weren't arm-in-arm, some might have already fled.

Despite both having guns, soldiers instilled more fear than police.

"Two minutes…"

"One minute!"

As he counted down to one minute, the major raised his wrist again, watching his watch. "You have forty-seven seconds, now forty-three seconds, forty-two…"

His countdown, though not loud, silenced everyone. The singing stopped, and the atmosphere grew tense.

Some workers broke away and ran toward their homes, while others believed the soldiers were bluffing, thinking the troop wouldn't attack them.

Seeing the diminishing crowd, the major smirked. "Ten…"

"Nine…"

"Forget it. It looks like you won't leave, so I won't continue counting…" He stopped, turning to a nearby soldier. "Didn't you find my joke funny?"

The soldier, sweating in the chilly morning, nervously chuckled, "Very funny, Major."

The major, staring at him until he felt uncomfortable, finally said, "Too exaggerated. Double the basic training when we get back." He then re-entered the car, issuing an order to the soldiers, "Arrest these troublemakers. Use lethal force if necessary."

Instantly, the soldiers charged like unleashed wolves, applying their professional military skills to the helpless civilians.

The major, sitting in the car, watched as the civilians were beaten, bloodied, and forced to the ground with guns pointed at their heads, satisfiedly put on his lambskin gloves.

He knew his actions would be reported to his superiors and even the Ministry of Defense, but he didn't care.

He understood the federation was shedding its harmless facade under pressure. The next decade, at least, would be a haven for hawks and radicals, the era soldiers loved most.

He hoped his tough, radical stance would catch the eye of the high command, wanting to lead troops abroad and show the world the power of the Federal Army.

He wanted to demonstrate that the federation's isolation wasn't out of fear but a desire not to harm others!

In less than a minute, the workers who had stymied the police were bloodied, their wrists bound with thick ropes, linked to an armored vehicle.Please vote for this novel at /series/blackstone-code/There are advance chapters available nowAccess will be granted 24 hours after the donationTier 1: 7 Advance chapters Link

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