In the state of Mexica, Governor Benito Diaz sat in his office, the weight of recent events still pounding in his head.


    Hours ago, he''d watched the new king execute the Governor of Colombia.


    The image wouldn''t leave his mind.


    Since the king''s decree just a few hours ago, the government offices were swarming with officials, their voices shing in heated debates over how to respond.


    Papers piled high, phones rang without pause, and the tension was thick enough to choke on.


    It was clear they were in for a long night-every light in the building would burn until dawn, because by tomorrow morning, the press would demand an answer.


    "Sir Governor," a secretary stepped in, voice tight.


    "The people are waiting for your decision. Will we keep producing weapons like we have for thest two hundred years... or stop and switch to farming?"


    Benito''s eyes hardened. "Call everyone here. I''ll speak to them directly." Momentster, about ten of his most trusted officials filed into the room.


    Benito rose from his chair, cigar unlit in hand.


    "The Diaz family has been making weapons for generations," he said, voice low but firm.


    "That doesn''t end with me not now, not ever."


    He knew the profits were too great to abandon.


    He wasn''t about to throw them away just because a young king thought he couldmand him.


    But open defiance would mean sharing the Colombian governor''s fate-public execution.


    “But, sir... the king''s order?" the secretary pressed.


    Benito''s tone sharpened.


    "We''ll still make weapons. We''ll sell them outside the country, and to the gangs within. Colombia''s stopped production, and soon all the other states will follow."


    "We''ll have the market to ourselves."


    He leaned forward, a thin smile curling on his lips. "While others are too afraid, we''ll be the ones to strike. If you want the tiger, you go into the tiger''s den."


    A senior advisor frowned. "And the king''s inspection?"


    "We''ll make farming equipment too-just enough to keep up appearances."


    The secretary hesitated. "Sir, are you sure this is wise?"


    Benito lit his cigar, the me reflecting in his eyes.


    "We have to change the people''s minds. The king''s turning this country into herbivores-farmers. We''ll remind them we''re carnivores."


    "A great nation. We''ll wake them from this hypnosis."


    "What should we do?" the secretary asked.


    Benito exhaled smoke. "We''ll flood the state and national news with propaganda. We''ll say the king''s n will weaken the country and drag it backward."


    "Day by day, we''ll shift public opinion until they believe us."


    He looked around the room. "Do you understand?”


    "Yes, Sir," they answered in unison.


    "Good. If we y this right, we could be the number one state-and maybe, just maybe, take the king''s ce." Heughed, a dark, satisfied sound.


    "But keep this between us. No one else can know."


    "Yes, Governor."


    Benito turned toward the window, staring at the night sky. "Tomorrow, Mexica leads this country."


    The next morning, Alex walked into the kitchen and found Josephine already serving breakfast, her eyes glued to the news.


    "Something interesting?" Alex pulled out a chair. "You look locked in."


    "Alex, you need to see this." She turned the screen toward him.


    The anchor''s voice filled the room:


    "The Governor of Mexica, Benito Diaz, was arrestedst night after ordering continued weapon production in defiance of the royal decree."


    "He also nned to spread false information about the king to incite rebellion. He now faces a death sentence, along with several of his highest-ranking officials."


    The broadcast continued coldly:


    “His entire family, the Diaz line, will be exiled from the country. All property and assets will be seized by the crown."


    "And for this troubled state," the news anchor''s voice rolled through the room, the king and his ministers have appointed Alfred Kingston to gover Mexica for the next five years, before returning control to its own people. This measure is to ensure no rebellion rises from Mexica."


    Josephine frowned at the screen.


    "What''s with the look, Jo?" Alex asked, setting tes on the table.


    fet


    She sighed. "I don''t know much about politics... but don''t you think the king''s being cruel? First the


    mbian governor gets executed, now the Mexica governor too."


    Alex handed her a te of scrambled eggs. "Between the Colombian governor''s family and Benito Diaz''s people, that''s about forty dead. You think that''s a lot?"


    "Of course forty''s a lot," she said, stabbing her fork into her food.


    Alex leaned back. "In thest thousand years, our civil wars and state wars have cost this country around fifty million lives."


    "Thest civil war alone imed two million. And the lowest death toll in all that bloody history was still a hundred thousand."


    He sighed.


    "The new king just wants peace. But some governors don''t. Without war, they can''t profit from the weapons they make."


    "They keep the blood flowing so their weapon factories keep running. Every civil war in this country? Triggered by them."


    Josephine''s eyes widened. "Really?"


    "Why do you think the wars never stop? You think people just... can''t get along?"


    "No. Three states keep fanning the mes because they''re the biggest arms dealers. Two of them are Colombia and Mexica."


    Alex smirked. "The king saw iting before he even gave his first order."


    "He knew some states would fight him on it, so he put eyes and ears so close on them he could hear them breathe at night."


    Josephine froze. "You mean...?"


    "He set the trap. Made them jump. Then cleaned them out before they could rally


    their armies, bribe the people, and spark rebellion."


    "In a thousand years of history, this might be the most efficient civil war ever- stopped before it could even begin."


    "Fewer than fifty people killed, and that was all it took to prevent what could have be thergest civil war in our history, one that might have imed millions of lives. I think the king''s doing the right thing."


    "Still," Josephine muttered, "killing is never good."


    Alex paused, nodding slowly. "Maybe you''re right. Letting them live out their days


    in prison, rotting away behind bars, might''ve been the better punishment.”


    The phone rang, slicing through the moment. Alex picked up. "Yes, Lyra?”


    “Sophia just asked me to transfer five million dors. Are you approving it?" "Yes. Has all of our winnings been taken over?"


    "I''ve seized every Guisepany, including the banks they owned, and everything else they had to cover the winnings. Except for one thing."


    "What?"


    "The Bitcoin. Digital currency Guise owned-it''s vanished."


    "You got a lead?"


    "Do you know someone named Charles Kingston?"


    Alex frowned. "Charles... the son of Alfred Kingston."


    "He was thest person seen with Gilbert. I''d bet my neck Gilbert gave him the


    Bitcoin as ast stash."


    "Do you have him?"


    "I did," Lyra replied. "But I had to let him go. No proof he''s holding Guise''s Bitcoin.


    From what I''ve heard, it''s a lot of money."


    "Any rumors?"


    "One rumor says that when Charles and Gilbert met, they got close-like brothers. So close that Gilbert might''ve trusted Charles with his Bitcoin stash."


    "Another rumor? Guise asked Charles to kidnap his own sister, Jasmine, and pay


    for it with that Bitcoin."


    Alex''s stomach tightened. Jasmine had called him just yesterday, saying she


    needed to meet about something important.


    She hadn''t called since.


    He cut the call with Lyra and immediately dialed Jasmine''s number.


    "The phone you are trying to reach is not active."


    Alex''s face went pale. In all the years he''d known her, Jasmine''s phone had never


    been off—unless something had happened to her.