Perhaps because of Jiang Fu’s added push as base commander, the aftermath of the public execution cases had grown far more serious than before—far more exaggerated than Jiang Fu herself had imagined.
At first, it was just people talking. Within a few days, administrative halls across various districts were packed inside and out with crowds accusing the base of fabricating wrongful convictions. Soon after, groups began staging sit-ins outside the courthouse.
Then factories began going on strike, claiming their owners had been wrongfully executed.
After that, several ability-user teams spoke out, arguing that some of the executed ability-users had been falsely accused. As a result, certain ability-user organizations even refused to take on routine missions such as clearing and patrol duties outside the base.
Then representatives from a certain chamber of commerce publicly demanded retrials. Worker representatives from some districts, district-level people’s representatives, and even a retired senior official all stepped forward to voice their opinions. Even the well-regarded head of a civilian charity foundation made a public statement, calling on the judicial authorities to respect life and demanding that the base commander give everyone an explanation, and so on.
Later still, large-scale protests broke out in certain areas.
Jiang Fu watched the situation unfold with cold detachment. By the end, even she felt confused.
She began to recall the early days of her succession. Had she truly been so unpopular? Looking around, it seemed as if every voice was one of opposition.
Forget it. No point thinking about it. If these people oppose her, it must be their fault. She might as well curse a few more of them to vent her irritation.
She continued working diligently.
But Jiang Fu was beyond furious.
Smack!
Everything on the desk was swept to the floor as Jiang Fu flew into a rage. “Good! Very good! I merely gave it a push, and every single one of them couldn’t wait to jump out! Protests, slogans about ‘inhumanity,’ ‘the darkest hour,’ ‘the base at a critical moment of life and death’—they’ve thought of everything! What heinous crime have I committed? The ones I killed were scum, not four thousand saints!”
The mental storm of a seventh-tier powerhouse swept through the office. No one present dared utter a word, afraid that even the slightest sound might ignite this tyrannosaurus.
Jiang Fu stared coldly at the intelligence reports scattered across the floor. “Jiang Shiyue!”
Jiang Shiyue stepped forward. “Present.”
“Record every location where protests have taken place. Any local administrative office that failed to discourage, report, or restrain them—strip them all of their posts later. The factory leaders organizing strikes, the heads of ability-user organizations refusing missions, those leading the sit-ins and protests—investigate every last one of them. I want to know exactly what they’re made of!”
“And those people’s representatives and worker representatives—I promote democracy so they can even be representatives in the first place. Do they really think they can speak for entire groups? And that foundation director—they’ve done some good deeds, sure, but have they received any fewer hidden benefits from the base? Eating my food while smashing my bowl—how impressive of them!”
“Every single one of these people—investigate them all!”
“Yes!” Jiang Shiyue responded.
Jiang Fu continued, “Shen Muyun!”
Legion Commander Shen Muyun stepped forward. “Present!”
“Strengthen security at all base entrances and exits. Prevent anyone from stirring up trouble during this period. Station five thousand troops in each district and assume direct vertical control over all local armed departments.”
“Yes.”
“Song Xiaoxiao!”
Song Xiaoxiao, council member of the Ability Users Association, stepped forward. “Present.”
Jiang Fu frowned at her. “Does the Ability Users Association still have any authority over ability-users?”
Song Xiaoxiao replied, “Since the former governor’s passing, the position of association president has remained vacant. Recently, both vice presidents have fallen ill…”
“They just happen to be too sick to manage anything at a critical time? What use are they then? If they’re ill, let them remain ill. You will act as interim president. Go and ask those ability-users causing trouble what exactly they think they’re doing!”
Song Xiaoxiao hesitated. “But I’m only sixth-tier…”
She glanced toward a silent short-haired woman nearby. If the governor was unwilling to concurrently serve as association president, there was still a seventh-tier here…
Jiang Fu said, “You have me backing you. What are you afraid of? I’ll temporarily transfer command of the Ability Users Special Combat Unit to you. Go. Tell them this—don’t think being ability-users makes them precious. Fu’an Base doesn’t lack ability-users, and the military factories don’t lack bullets that can blow an ability-user’s head open!”
“Yes!”
After the others had gradually left, Jiang Fu fell silent for a moment and looked toward the short-haired woman.
She was already in her fifties, yet appeared only in her early thirties—an exceptionally heroic-looking woman, though her demeanor was overly stern.
This was Liang Xie, the only other seventh-tier ability-user in Fu’an Base besides Jiang Fu.
Jiang Fu handed her a proposal. “Aunt Liang, I’ll leave the Special Administration Bureau to you.”
Liang Xie flipped it open, glanced at it once, then looked up at her. “Entrusting something this important to me—you’ve got nerve.”
Jiang Fu smiled. “You weathered decades alongside my mother. You were her most important partner. Naturally, you are also the elder I respect most. Only by giving this matter to you can I feel at ease.”
Liang Xie looked at her with complicated eyes for a moment, then stood. “I will handle this properly.”
Jiang Fu watched her departing figure, her gaze deep. At last, she let out a soft sigh. “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”
…
Soon, news spread throughout the base:
The base had established the Special Affairs and Special Situations Administration Bureau, abbreviated as the Special Administration Bureau. It would accept appeals and re-examine the four thousand public execution cases. If anyone possessed new evidence, they were encouraged to submit it actively.
Should a case be overturned, not only would the executed person’s family or legal representative receive compensation, but those providing new evidence would also be rewarded. Officials who assisted in overturning cases would likewise receive merit credit.
For a time, the newly established bureau was flooded with visitors. Countless people submitted supposed new leads—most notably, original plaintiffs personally coming forward to reverse their own cases.
Because the matters were numerous and complex, requiring extensive investigation manpower, the Special Administration Bureau began large-scale recruitment as soon as it was established. Within just a few days, it had taken shape, and case reviews proceeded at remarkable speed. Soon, preliminary investigations had been completed on over a thousand cases.
In the blink of an eye, the day arrived for the Special Administration Bureau’s first public trial.
That day, the gates of the Special Administration Bureau stood wide open, and countless people went to watch.
Jiang Fu went as well. Blending into the crowd, she watched as the Bureau staff set up tables and chairs directly on the open ground. It was obvious they were going to hold an open-air trial.
People nearby whispered among themselves.
“Where did this Special Administration Bureau even come from? They’re straight up snatching the court’s work.”
“More than just the court’s. They’ve grabbed all kinds of responsibilities. Special matters, special circumstances—they’re handling everything. How much authority do they even have?”
“Jiang Fu is setting up a ‘mother-in-law’ department above all the others!”
“‘Mother-in-law’ would be putting it nicely. I think she’s trying to hollow out certain departments.”
“Like they say, that woman is ruthless. If people won’t listen to her, she’ll just pull the rug out from under them.”
Jiang Fu glanced over. The ones speaking were a few men—coincidentally, the same ones she had secretly watched plotting that night.
In just half a month, they had turned pale, dark circles hanging under their eyes. One was supporting his lower back, another clutching his abdomen, another pressing at his head as if nursing a headache.
There was none of the high-spirited confidence they had shown when they were plotting major plans before.
Especially the refined-looking man who had led them—his complexion was bloodless, his face puffy and haggard. Even under the blazing sun, he was wearing several layers of clothing.
“Brother Wenbo, are you afraid of the cold?”
Li Wenbo replied irritably, “No.”
“Come to think of it, I’ve been having diarrhea lately. My stomach always feels like it’s dropping. I don’t know what’s going on. Even medicine doesn’t help,” a burly man said weakly.
“I’ve broken out all over my face. And I’ve been so irritable lately. It’s really strange.”
“You’re all fine compared to me. My lower back and knees ache all day. I can’t muster any strength.”
“Could it be kidney deficiency?”
“Screw you!”
Jiang Fu calmly withdrew her gaze.
His body was simply adjusting to the new hormone levels. Perfectly normal.