The council members under Ye Xiao's command were also being targeted—witnesses claimed the assassins wore uniforms of the upper city's military forces.
Wealthy merchants, mid-level officials, and even quartermasters of the upper city fell victim to a series of assassinations one after another. No matter how heavily guarded their high-rise hideouts were, the killers slipped through with ease, employing poison gas, hand-to-hand combat, and brute force that even reinforced vault doors couldn’t withstand. The evidence left at the scenes pointed unmistakably to their origins—the lower city.
These relentless assassinations indirectly pushed the war to its boiling point. Both sides deployed every last card in their hands, but this time, without Fang Zhiyi and his allies, Ye Xiao was clearly at a disadvantage.
Marilyn remained carefree, indifferent to the chaos outside. As long as her steak and wine kept coming, nothing else mattered.
Watching the tall, unwavering figure before her, she knew—he would protect her well.
Yet, the protagonist remained the protagonist. Even when cornered, he made a decisive move: leveraging exorbitant bounties to rally the lower city’s drifters, thugs, arms dealers, and human traffickers, molding them into a makeshift army to reinforce his front lines.
Faced with Ye Xiao’s offer—one hand holding cash, the other a blade—they had no choice.
In the end, even the workers were handed guns. This battle, Ye Xiao was determined to win. He would be that girl’s knight, no matter the cost.
Through near-suicidal tactics, cracks began to form in the upper city’s defenses. Ye Xiao had prepared for this day, albeit hastily. But he was confident—those upper city parasites, rotted through by greed and power, were no match for him. Besides, he had been laying groundwork there for a long time.
"Today marks the thirtieth day." Mia approached Fang Zhiyi with a glass of water, concern in her eyes. He had been standing there for days, gazing at the distant battlefield.
"You’re a strange one," Mia remarked after taking a sip, then handed the glass to him.
Fang Zhiyi accepted it and drank. "Why do you say that?"
"I thought you were just a runaway kid. Didn’t expect you to have such... grand ambitions." She gestured widely with her hands.
"But I’m not sure—will this really make the world better?" In these days, Mia had followed Fang Zhiyi, witnessing every shade of human depravity. The guilty lived without care, while the good suffered endlessly.
Fang Zhiyi paused, a phrase flashing through his mind: "A single spark can start a prairie fire."
Mia’s eyes flickered with surprise. "That... doesn’t sound like something you’d say."
Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "It’s not mine. I heard it somewhere."
The roar of artillery gradually faded, replaced by faint cheers from the battlefield.
Fang Zhiyi picked up a communicator. "Begin."
The upper city had lost—inexplicably. Some of their officials suddenly defected, those who had taken Ye Xiao’s bribes long prepared to switch sides. But what they hadn’t anticipated was the sudden withdrawal of the upper city’s Second Corps. No one knew where they had gone; communications were dead. Panic spread like wildfire—rumors claimed the Second Corps had walked into an ambush and been annihilated.
Ye Xiao emerged victorious, though at great cost. But he didn’t care. With Marilyn in his arms, he stood atop a vehicle like a king surveying his newly conquered territory as they entered the upper city’s streets. The fear in the eyes of the onlookers pleased him—this was the respect he deserved, the status he had earned!
From this day forward, he would be the undisputed ruler of the entire ruined city!
All would bow to him—and to his beloved Marilyn! He would hold a grand wedding, a celebration of his triumph!
But then, an ambush shattered his fantasies. A force emerged from the supposedly pacified upper city, striking without warning.
Ye Xiao shielded Marilyn, shouting for his armed units—only for explosions to erupt behind him.
A remaining loyalist rushed to his side. "Boss, it’s bad! The lower city scum have turned on us!"
"What?" Ye Xiao couldn’t process it.
"They’ve rebelled! They’re attacking our rear!"
Ye Xiao whirled around, though he couldn’t see the chaos. The sounds of explosions and shouts grew louder, spreading disorder even among his own troops. But he had no time to dwell on it.
"A trap?" The possibility struck him. Of course—this had to be the upper city’s vile rulers’ doing!
Meanwhile, the advancing force was recognized by the defected officials—it was the missing Second Corps.
"This scent... so sweet..." A hyena soldier wearing goggles collapsed, legs giving out.
"Hey! You—"
A girl stood holding a spray device. "Take their weapons!"
Her followers surged forward, discarding clubs and pickaxes to seize guns.
"Requesting backup! Third line under attack!"
"Damn it! You can’t even handle a bunch of peasants?"
"Not peasants—their leader’s a monster! He doesn’t even—" A blade swung, embedding itself into Wang Meng’s shoulder, drawing blood but nothing more.
Wang Meng grinned, his expression unhinged. "My turn now?" Born with a manic disorder, he had always been restrained under Fang Zhiyi’s command—until now. This was the first time Fang Zhiyi had permitted them to kill on the battlefield.
"The battlefield is different from peacetime," Fang Zhiyi had said.
Meanwhile, the system voiced its disbelief. "You... you actually sent these people to lead a civilian uprising?"
Fang Zhiyi barely lifted his eyelids. "Uprising? More like reclaiming what’s theirs."
The system pressed on. "You’re oversimplifying this. These civilians won’t obey you!"
Fang Zhiyi smiled. "I never expected them to. Remember the survivors who lost everything?"
The system paused. It had been so focused on persuading Fang Zhiyi to cooperate that it had ignored the others.
"You mean those helpless ones? Children, women, frail men?" It recalled the struggling underclass, certain its host had lost his mind.
"Let me teach you something. Power isn’t always the ultimate advantage—ideas are. Even in a lawless place, thought takes root." Fang Zhiyi tapped his temple. "People die. Ideas don’t."
The system didn’t understand. "So what? The upper city won’t recognize them."
"Won’t they?" Fang Zhiyi laughed, genuinely amused.
At that moment, the upper city’s fleeing elites heard the distant sounds of battle—from Ye Xiao’s direction. Seeing a glimmer of hope, they halted their retreat.
This displeased one man.
"Hey. Who gave you permission to look away?"