Blackstone Code-Chapter 611: Everyone Has Their Own Way

“When do we act?” someone asked. “I think the time is almost right. We just need to give it a little push.”
As he spoke, he made a simple pushing gesture. Some others nodded in agreement, but a few shook their heads.
An older man in the room chuckled. “Wait a little longer, there’s no rush. Haven’t you read the paper?”
“The federal government says it will never interfere in another country’s internal affairs. So everything here must appear to happen naturally.”
The first man shook his head. “That’s unnecessary. It’ll waste a lot of our time.”
“But it ensures people in other regions won’t resent us. Gentlemen, our interests aren’t limited to Nagaryll—they’re global. That’s why others’ perceptions of us matter.”
“No one—person, organization, or nation—wants a
conductor
as a partner. We need to make our stance clear. Just wait. What we want will come soon enough.”
With the capital in chaos and local regions declaring independence, if the capital doesn’t come up with an effective response, things will spiral out of control.
To those still on the fence, the royal family’s inaction breeds disappointment, pushing them toward the opposition.
But for the royal family to take a stance is easier said than done.
The Joint Development Company has planted many locals within the protest crowds. If the royal family takes action, those people will lead the charge on the palace, silencing it entirely.
If the royal family sends the guards or the army, it will trigger even bloodier conflict. Whether they win or lose, the result will be the same: defeat.
And as more local leaders are persuaded, the nation’s collapse enters its final countdown. It will be dismantled. No region will recognize the monarchy’s legitimacy. The Kingdom of Nagaryll will disappear from history.
It will all appear as the will of the people—a country dissolved by public sentiment.
Years later, people raised under federal culture, speaking its common tongue, will forget this place’s past. This land will become just another federal state—a large autonomous one.
Of course, the federal government won’t acknowledge any of this. But it will be true.
While these gentlemen dreamed and discussed their vision of the future, a conversation that would decide the nation’s fate was unfolding in the royal palace nearby.
The old king looked more frail than ever. His back was hunched, and every attempt to straighten up brought searing pain. He could no longer stand straight—just like most elderly people outside the palace.
But he was lucky. He still had everything—unlike those outside, who never had anything to begin with.
He stood by the window, holding the railing and staring out at the blue sky. After a few minutes, he sighed heavily, then turned to look at his eldest son.
His eldest son rarely appeared in public—especially in recent years. People had almost forgotten that the king even had a firstborn.
Whenever someone mentioned him, the king would say he had sent him abroad for school, and the
bastard
refused to return. People would laugh awkwardly, realizing they’d asked a foolish question.
Life abroad was far better than at home. Unless one was drawn by power, most preferred to live overseas.
As members of the ruling class, they were wealthy and could indulge in luxuries extracted from the people. Many of their families lived abroad long-term and didn’t want to come back.
That the royal family did the same was not a good look—and inevitably sparked public debate when magnified.
But no one knew the truth: the king’s eldest son had returned long ago. He changed his appearance and became the leader of the Nagaryll Youth Party.
Initially, this Youth Party was the king’s weapon against foreign powers. When someone needed to disappear, the blame was simply placed on the Youth Party.
Because of its extreme political stance, it became a sharp tool. The king needed someone trustworthy to control it—his eldest son was the perfect choice.
Then the federals arrived—and things changed.
The king’s original plan was for his own son to overthrow him. But the federals showed no interest in using the Youth Party. Now, with growing troubles, it was time to decide.
“This is our last chance…” the king said as he walked over to his son, gently touching his hair, his face, and finally taking his hand. “Only this way can our bloodline survive.”
“The federals are the most despicable, cunning, and malicious people I’ve ever met. If we don’t act, we’ll be overthrown by those lowlifes. The whole country will become their toy.”
“They’ll probably prop up some commoner. When that happens, we’ll all die—I’ll die, you’ll die. They’ll hunt you around the world. Your brothers and sisters will all die. To the federals, only a dead royal is a good royal.”
“You must act before they can install their puppet. That way, I may die, but your siblings will live.”
If the federals wouldn’t use the Youth Party, then let the Youth Party act first—let his son overthrow him.
If someone else strikes the fatal blow, they’ll aim for the heart. But if it’s your own, the wound may hurt but won’t be fatal.
The king’s eyes were cloudy as he looked at his son. “Just create the momentum and lead the charge into the palace.”
“Your mother and I will commit suicide. You won’t need to do anything yourself. Your siblings will survive. You can try them later. Don’t the federals love talking about the rule of law?”
“Then use the law to judge their crimes. They may lose their freedom for a time—but they’ll live.”
“With such achievements, even if the federals don’t like you, they can’t ignore you. Whoever takes the throne after won’t be able to avoid you. Your voice will matter.”
“Even if you can’t rule in my place, you’ll still be the most important person in the country. Still a ruler.”
“As long as you show loyalty to the federals and prove your value, one day, you’ll take it all back.”
The king’s reasoning was sound. The biggest hurdle in regime change is how to handle the former rulers.
The federals didn’t want to play the villain. They needed a proxy to wipe out the monarchy’s influence. Better to let the crown prince step up before they picked someone else.
He would be the hero who overthrew a decaying monarchy and judged its members according to the law. No one could ignore his achievements—not even the federals.
That was why the monarchy had remained silent lately. The king had already realized he had lost—ever since the provincial governors declared independence.
The people opposed him. The local rulers opposed him. And worst of all, the federals hadn’t even sent anyone to negotiate—meaning they wanted him as the scapegoat.
He didn’t even have the chance to surrender. The federals would never let him go. His fate was sealed. So he had to seek survival in death.
He gripped his son’s hand tightly. “You have no choice. Do you understand?”
“Even if you can’t sit on the throne—at least you’ll protect our family.”The crown prince gave a heavy, slow nod. “I know what I have to do.”
The old king let out a sigh of relief, his whole demeanor easing. He released his son’s hand and paced a few steps. “How long will it take you to gather enough men?”
“No more than three days.”
“Good. I’ll wait for your good news.”
Short in stature, with thick eyebrows and large eyes—if he appeared in a film, you’d instantly know he was a protagonist—Akumari, whose name had long been forgotten, was reading the newspaper.
His brows were tightly furrowed. With Nagaryll’s political situation continuing to deteriorate and the Federation remaining indifferent, the Valier exchange rate, after nearly six months of rising, had begun to nosedive.
Yesterday, the Valier was trading at 97 to 1 against the Federal Sol. Today, it had plunged to 121 to 1.
While exchange rates may seem distant from the average person’s life, for the people of Nagaryll—who were effectively using two currencies side by side—it was very real.
You could see it in the desperate workers waving their Valiers, trying to exchange them for Federal Sols; in their panicked faces, drenched in sweat, on the verge of tears. Their suffering was clear.
“Akumari, there’s a call for you…”