Jesse looked around the room at everyone's faces, noting their anxious expressions, then continued:
"Once news of my death is made public, we can pin all the blame on me. Simultaneously, we should launch a strong crackdown on several human trafficking groups. This will not only pacify public outrage but also lower that group's guard toward the kingdom.
After achieving that, we can extend an invitation to them under the pretense of gratitude, thanking them for helping the kingdom eliminate a 'cancer' like me. We can invite them to a banquet held in their honor. During the banquet, we could poison their food, set up an ambush, or even strike when they're drunk and vulnerable.
I will also contribute personally and help eliminate them during the event. That way, the threat will be completely removed. And sparing me won't damage the kingdom's interests — in fact, we could even shift the blame for everything onto them, preserving the kingdom's reputation entirely."
After hearing this, the room fell silent as everyone sank into thought, including the elder. Jesse's plan was undeniably tempting.
This method would not only eliminate an immediate and dangerous threat, but it could also contain the long-term fallout of the scandal, even enhancing the kingdom's standing. One plan, many gains. Everyone in the room was swayed.
"My lord, I believe this plan is feasible," an older councilor stepped forward and addressed the elder.
The elder glanced at him, then turned his gaze back to Jesse and said:
"You've done well. Your plan is indeed workable. Sparing you isn't out of the question. If you succeed in eliminating those people, I may even restore your rank and reputation.
But all of this depends on one thing — those people must die. If your actions during the operation satisfy me, and you accomplish your mission, I will uphold all of these promises. You may even be rewarded."
Of course, they couldn't let Jesse off just for coming up with the plan. His full value needed to be extracted. Since he'd devised it, and it hinged so closely on him, he would need to risk his life and contribute heavily.
The elder wasn't lying. If Jesse truly succeeded, restoring his position and granting rewards would be trivial matters.
"Thank you, my lord. I will do everything in my power to eliminate them. I will not let a single one escape alive," Jesse vowed, fully understanding the deeper meaning behind the elder's words — that this was a matter of life and death for him.
"Very good. We'll proceed with General Jesse's plan," the elder declared. "All of you present must do your part. First, use your influence to ensure all blame for the trafficking operation is placed on the late 'General Jesse.'
Spread the word throughout the kingdom. At the same time, dispatch agents to publish statements that benefit the kingdom and guide public sentiment. Quell their anger. Minimize the damage. I will handle everything that follows."
"Understood, my lord."
"Yes."
"Understood."
The meeting ended, and everyone quickly dispersed to begin carrying out their respective assignments.
Meanwhile, while the capital was in chaos, Buggy was already moving. He had stayed hidden within the city and immediately began searching for the trafficking contact mentioned by the old woman who had died.
After some inquiries, he arrived at an abandoned estate. The place was so dilapidated that it was hard to believe anyone had been active here recently — ruined walls, shattered buildings, and not a soul in sight.
Glancing around and seeing no passersby, Buggy walked in openly. There was no need to hide now — the capital was already in turmoil. Any noise here wouldn't draw attention.
As for the traffickers? Buggy didn't consider them a threat. If they spotted him, even better. That would save him the trouble of finding them. And as for danger, with his strength, he could leave unharmed even if he faced a horde.
Inside the estate, he encountered no traffickers, only decay and destruction.
Guided by the information from the old woman, he entered a secluded room. It was empty. He headed straight for a cabinet she had described — behind it was said to be the passage leading to the traffickers' base.
Sure enough, after opening it, he found a straight staircase descending into darkness.
Buggy judged that there was quite a bit of distance between the stairs and the ground below. Without hesitation — and not bothering with the stairs — he jumped straight down.
Taking the stairs would've been too slow, and the fall wasn't a threat to him.
Moments later, he landed on solid ground. The base lay about ten meters underground. The space was vast and empty — no furniture, no fixtures. Only a sturdy iron door stood ahead.
Without delay, Buggy approached.
He noticed the electronic lock — a surprisingly high-tech mechanism, similar to the electronic locks of his past life. A password was required to enter.
Unfortunately, the old woman hadn't given him the code. But Buggy had no interest in guessing like some drama character. He had no time — or patience — for that.
"Guess I'll just slice it open."
He drew Flame Sun, his blade, and swung at the lock.
The slash was controlled. He didn't want to collapse the underground base and bury himself alive. Even if he could survive that, it might kill any useful leads inside, making this whole trip a waste.
The strike landed precisely between the doors. The lock shattered, and the heavy doors slowly creaked open.
But what Buggy saw next wasn't what he expected.
He had imagined opening the door to find the traffickers inside, frozen in shock, eyes wide in disbelief.
Instead, the room was empty. The floor and walls were stained with blood. Tables and chairs were overturned. Everything else was gone — it was as if someone had swept the place clean.
Buggy immediately understood.
"Damn. I'm too late."
Whoever had been here was either dead or long gone. Anything useful about the organization had already been destroyed or taken away.