"Kill those foreigners!"
The shouts from the crowd became increasingly louder. At first, people were somewhat bewildered. The Nagariel people do not have much of a tradition of rebellion, and religion has always told them that patience offers a better chance than revenge for a better reincarnation.
The vast majority do not have the potential or the idea to "lead" others; actually, most gathered around merely want to watch the commotion, and perhaps find opportunities to profit, like they did when they raided Lynch’s workers’ quarters or recently looted the mansion of a wealthy person.
They are extremely harsh on their fellow citizens when it comes to petty crimes like theft. Once such people are caught, it’s unlikely they’ll be seen alive again at the police station.
But against foreigners, they do not have the courage to "beat them to death," because, for a long time, these foreigners have played the role of a third ruling class. Their social and political status is far above that of ordinary people.
Ordinary citizens might dare to follow the crowd and take advantage but wouldn’t dare to be the one to shout, "Beat them to death"; the nature is different, too dangerous. This update is available on novel-fire.ɴet
In Nagariel, the divine will forgive the sins of the wealthy but never spare a poor person.
Yet at this moment, someone shouted it out, seemingly with the intention to act.
A young Nagariel man climbed up the wall of a rich person’s home, his face filled with anger, waving his fists and shouting with all his might, "Charge in, kill these foreigners, take back everything that belongs to us!"
Although he was quickly beaten down with chaotic punches, a second person appeared, then a third, revealing on their faces something never seen before.
"Not one of ours." The leader of the Mengwu Province Youth Party, who hurriedly arrived, looked solemn. He was half-squatting on a tree canopy about twenty meters away.
From the vantage point here, one could clearly see most of the wealthy residence and the ever-growing crowd of fellow citizens.
Some key members of the Youth Party sat beside him, and their people were also under the tree.
Upon hearing a foreigner tortured and killed a native maid, they actively followed up on the matter, arriving at the scene as soon as possible.
But unexpectedly, someone was quicker; those leading the charge against the wealthy mansion.
Previously, they couldn’t find these individuals within the crowd, but now, they had revealed themselves.
Because these were not Youth Party members, the short young man felt the matter was a bit troubling.
He understood the Nagariel natives, including his fellow citizens’ moral principles; they would not dare to do such a thing, especially when they had looted another mansion before — their hands were empty, being the first ones inside, they should have gotten more than others.
Having seized goods, they shouldn’t continue causing trouble but rather return home quickly, hide their loot, and wait until the storm passes to sell it to black market merchants and earn some money.
This has almost become an unwritten tradition, a rule, everyone does it, and being caught is just unlucky, while not being caught results in a windfall.
But these people did not take anything; their hands were empty, their anger exaggerated, their actions too purposeful, and they weren’t Youth Party members; there was definitely a problem here!
The young man sitting next to him was not that concerned, displaying an excited smile, "Doesn’t matter if they’re not ours. I admire their courage and determination; we should recruit them into our organization!"
He stated while itching to take action, "This kind of thing shouldn’t just let others take the spotlight; we should rush forward, too. It’s an excellent chance for people to notice us!"
The Nagariel Youth Party wasn’t very well-known, and the young man, not very tall, believed now wasn’t the best time. Before obtaining some "real deals," it’s best not to be too arrogant.
This would attract attention from the local officials, religion, and the third ruling class, and they already demolished two temples. Some enforcers were investigating them.
So he didn’t immediately agree, instead contemplating, weighing options. During this thinking process, he saw those people climb over the courtyard wall and open the gate from inside. People flooded in like a tide, led by several individuals, dispersing and immersing those responsible for driving them.
His companion jumped directly from the tree, landing and grimacing while looking up at him, "Let’s go as well; it’s time for people to know about us!"
The not-so-tall leading young man hesitated a bit, watching those people rush into the mansion while hearing his companion urging, "if you don’t go now, it’ll be too late." He gritted his teeth and leapt down from the tree.
Actually, not just his cadre, others were excitedly watching him, desiring to do something big, yet unaware that the Youth Party wasn’t strong enough. Recklessly taking on responsibilities that weren’t theirs could hurt them badly.
Seeing his companions, the young man slightly changed his wording, "Our battlefield isn’t here. Remember what I told you before? We want their industries, their wealth, not beating them to vent anger!"
"It’s easy to kill them, but the government will confiscate their properties. You should be aware of our... their morals. I require you to immediately head to other places and help those people make decisions before the situation escalates further!"
He looked at everyone around him, "I have a feeling this will escalate. Maybe you were right, so let’s start it!"
Some significant trends are unstoppable. Even he was confused now; he felt a tide rapidly pushing forward, and even sensed some were "helping" them, though it was not a good feeling.
As for what was wrong, he wasn’t clear; now the only thing to do was to accelerate the plan. Their original plan set for fleeing foreign merchants dying enroute out of Nagariel, allowing their children or local family members to inherit their wealth.
This includes cash, assets, all inheritables. These wealthy individuals’ wealth must return to the people through inheritance for a better outcome.
Otherwise, the government would find various reasons to confiscate these assets, then evict the residents, as they often do.
This should have been a not-too-long event but not occur now; some arrangements were needed, but it was too late.
More people surged from all directions, some already heading toward the neighboring courtyard. Those policemen always appearing in time still didn’t show up, signaling a storm forming!
Meanwhile, Mr. Simon had packed, awaiting someone to take over his business, ready to leave, receiving information through some channels.
He hurriedly ordered the butler to lock all doors, took up the hunting rifle, and sat in the study with the fewest windows.
He was tense, a friend just called him anxiously, saying the locals went mad, crazily attacking his house, an environment too chaotic to discern his words clearly. Shortly following a dull noise like bone breaking, silence ensued.
Yet soon, he heard a local-accented voice from the phone, "You’re next, sir!"
Mr. Simon was terrified; after hanging up, he hurried to the yard edge to look out. Some locals not belonging there were already on the street.
Here it’s worth mentioning that foreigners have specific districts and communities. Nagariel cities’ foreign districts and communities are bustling locations, yet few Nagariel people dwell there.
The high spending here disqualifies regular Nagariel people from appearing; policemen assist wealthy individuals in blocking those potentially begging or stealing from entering, keeping them out of the community.
Simply viewing the community environment, sometimes people wouldn’t think it’s Nagariel, even feeling like being in their own country.
Everything so beautiful, quiet, no stench, nor ragged Nagariel folks visible.
But now, they’re outside, appearing increasingly more.
Mr. Simon cursed those policemen originally tasked with beating and driving away locals, preventing entry from failing their duty, abandoning immediate departure plans.
Without the courage to harm others before being harmed, he remained law-abiding, suspecting driving would lead to being stopped, hiding at home was best.
He picked up his hunting rifle, sat in the study, and checked the unfamiliar weapon thoroughly, including the bullets.
Any noise made him panic.
Tilting his head to look out the window, hearing something less quiet outside, he picked up the phone to dial the police station again, but this time, no dial tone spoke to him, only silence.
Terrified, becoming more anxious, he loudly shouted the butler’s name; shortly afterwards, the study door opened.
"I’m thirsty, also, have someone check why our phone line’s cut, and are there many people on the street outside?", he wiped sweat from his temple, "I feel it’s noisy, it wasn’t before."