After Governor Marsel and the garrison Commander left, Perfikot finally put away her cold expression, sat back on the sofa, and sighed helplessly.
Her gaze passed through the window, looking towards the city in the distance shrouded in the faint glow of the Energy Towers, and a tinge of complex emotions arose within her heart.
If possible, she did not wish to do this.
She was not a ruthless person; she once thought of using gentler means to acquire resources and avoid thrusting more people into hardship.
But now, she had no choice.
She knew that with her order, countless French people might die, their lives would become more difficult, and many unspeakable things might happen.
The lower-class populace, already living on the brink of poverty, would be forced to endure even greater oppression and possibly lose their last hope of survival.
Perfikot was well aware of all this.
