Drag, the leader of the Nagariel Youth Party in Mengwu Province, was attempting to master complex driving techniques in a driving school with a car that had been sold to Nagariel over a decade ago and was too decrepit to transport, when a major event was unfolding.

In the Royal Capital of Nagariel, Provincial Governors from all over the country's provinces gathered together. Even the Federation people were curious about what changes their meeting might bring, and sent reporters to dig for information.

Sometimes reporters are more useful than Special Agents, at least in situations where a disturbance is not being caused, reporters are more practical.

In the resplendent hall, the most distinguished people of Nagariel were gathered; these Provincial Governors and the King, in reality, did not outwardly resemble the tyrants and dictators imagined by the ordinary citizens of the Federation.

Each one of them was actually quite "cultured." Although the word does not exist here, the meaning is indeed accurate.

They did not have menacing appearances, no aura of being the greatest in heaven or earth. They were all very gentle, which in fact relates to Nagariel's religious culture.

In countries with faith, it is difficult for the ruling class to produce outward tyrants. Even if there were, they would be changed by religion when they were young, and Nagariel's religious forces have always been the ruling power's greatest enemy.

When facing an enemy very skilled in packaging themselves, Provincial Governors must also learn this skill, at least to avoid appearing like the bad guys in mythical stories, to better govern the populace.

"The last time we met was at your coming-of-age ceremony…" The King of Nagariel looked at Provincial Governor Drag, feeling somewhat nostalgic, "I didn't expect thirty years to pass in a flash. You look well."

The King of Nagariel appeared to be a man about sixty years old, very kind, speaking slowly and softly, leading many to believe that the actual "division" of Nagariel now is due to his weakness.

Only the Provincial Governors in this room knew that he was an old con artist who has been performing for decades; ever since he executed his own siblings and let his humble mother hang herself, everyone just wanted to stay away from him.

Yet even so, there are said to be connections between two Provincial Governors' deaths and him. He is a seemingly friendly but cruel and deceitful King with qualified political acumen. How do the Federation people put it?

Ah, yes, he's a qualified Best Actor.

Provincial Governor Drag slightly bowed and kissed the King's hand, after which the King drew back his hand, moistened his tongue with his fingers, and traced an invisible mark on Drag's forehead.

This is a typical religious act symbolizing the cessation of calamity upon seeing this mark, yet it made Drag feel a bit gross.

The old King seemed to have foul breath, and perhaps it would even remain so for a while, which annoyed Drag, though he couldn't express it.

He looked at the old King, studying each wrinkle seriously on his face, finally displaying a smile. "Yes, at that time you were very young, not like now..." His expression of a half-smile contained an indescribable provocation, perhaps schadenfreude, as he shook his head, "...aged, you have aged."

Words that initially seemed ought to lament the ruthlessness of time, ended up making the Provincial Governor convey a sense of "serves you right," yet the King's expression remained unchanged.

"Time spares none of us, just as it will not spare you; it is fair to everyone." In the King's foggy eyes, there seemed to be something called wisdom.

Provincial Governor Drag held a different view, "You know, those foreigners outside have investigated our life expectancy here. They say most of us can only live to sixty."

"But we all know some can live longer; time seemed less fair in the face of power, nothing is absolutely fair."

"Maybe I can live a bit longer, what do you think?"

He was clearly implying that he could outlive the old King, but the King remained unflustered, as he used to disguise until the last moment before revealing himself, now with the Federation people watching, he was even less hurried.

His somewhat loose eyelids blinked, giving the impression of struggling to open them as he looked at Drag, gently shaking his head, "You're quite right, but perhaps I will live a little longer..."

By this point, there was virtually no need to continue the conversation. Both laughed briefly, then bid farewell and left. From a distance, Drag glanced back at the old King, his eyes showed a mocking expression.

For years, the old King has been committed to reining in the power held by Provincial Governors, ever since he reconstructed the military system, seeking to unify all of Nagariel.

But this idea, this action was destined to fail; he was contending against the entire ruling class of Nagariel without support, he could not win, especially now that the Federation people are here.

The Federation people would not allow the old King to continue his plans, nor would they permit any meaningful unification of Nagariel. A lifetime of effort, finally reduced to a mirage, and Provincial Governor Drag merely wanted to laugh.

As time passed, even the Provincial Governors, whom people rarely had the chance to meet, were all present, and the meeting began.

In fact, everyone was well aware that being able to sit together today was thanks to the significant efforts of the Federation.

Once the meeting started, unrelated people were expelled, and the old King was the first to highlight the main topic, "The Federation wants us to demonstrate how important we consider this matter. That's why I see all of you here, and I must say the Federation is truly remarkable; they've performed astonishing feats!"

The people sitting here were no ordinary individuals; they immediately recognized the mockery and sarcasm in the old King's words.

If not for the Federation's support and assurance of their safety, they wouldn't dare come near the Royal Capital, let alone sit here.

But with the Federation's backing, their courage had grown, albeit pitifully, the old King genuinely had no recourse against the Federation, which precisely laid the foundation for today's meeting.

Someone rudely interrupted the old King at this moment, "Stop with the useless talk; let's discuss what the Federation wants us to talk about—what are everyone's thoughts?"

With one sentence, the scene became quiet again, and the interrupted old King wasn't angry; he just silently watched these "subjects."

Nobody took the initiative to speak; everyone knew initiating speech equated to being a "traitor," unless the opinion expressed was exactly opposite to what the Federation wanted them to do.

But how could that be possible?

It's as though everyone knows there are some traitors disguised as patriots here. These traitors surely collect information on certain "patriotic individuals" to sell to their Federation masters. The Federation is far more unscrupulous than the old King; they dare to take action when necessary.

So the eerie silence in the meeting lasted over ten minutes, with no one speaking as everyone used their gaze to secretly observe the expressions and actions of others, hoping to discover some clues therein.

In the prolonged silence, the old King's mouth curved slightly as he sighed softly, "I heard some of you used to curse me daily, but look at you now, not daring to say a word."

"Indeed, you are still young; you can't afford the consequences of misspeaking. I am old, and I dare to speak."

"I don't know what purpose the Federation has in insisting we raise the Nagariel currency rate, but they surely have their own intentions. From my standpoint, I won't agree to their request, yet..."

He laughed as he spoke, "If I say no, some of you will surely try to persuade me and convince those opposing."

"This will create discord among us and provide amusement for others."

"Everyone, we face an unprecedentedly severe situation where the Federation is silently seizing the power that belongs to us, and we are powerless to do anything about it."

"I know there are some here already serving the Federation, but I'm not afraid to tell you that the Federation values not you personally, but your position here."

"When one day the Federation decides they no longer need you to obscure their ambitions or serve them, what you've received from them will be taken back."

"Don't think everything is secure; a flock of sheep raised by wolves will never find true safety."

He smiled and fidgeted with the incense burner beside him before looking at the Provincial Governors deep in thought, "I know the appreciation of Nagariel is inevitable—I don't mind agreeing to this matter. Meanwhile, I'd like to offer gifts to those who've already found new directions."

"You can tell those behind you that it was you here who exhausted every conceivable means to persuade me and all those opposed. We will publish this to the outside world."

"Our sole purpose in doing so is to ensure you remain valuable, that the Federation won't discard you when done, and that we too can ensure Nagariel remains under our control, with a chance to break free from the Federation's control in the future."

He raised his teacup, gulped a sip, and wiped the residue from his mouth with a gold-threaded, cloud-white handkerchief, "This benefits both you and us, with no downsides!"

No one expected the old King to say such a thing at this moment, in this setting; it was astonishing.

Admitting one's failure is a challenging endeavor for rulers. The old King did just that, discarding even the last shred of dignity.

His statement was extremely insulting to the Provincial Governors, yet it perfectly met everyone's needs, and once again, the room plunged into silence.

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