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Igniting a spark doesn’t mean the flames will always leap high.

However, without attempts and efforts, one cannot create fire.

“—Dodge.”

“What do you mean dodge?! Kahaaauuhh…!”

Only pain and endurance spark the embers, and once ignited, those sparks cannot be extinguished no matter how hard one tries.

“I feel like just a little more improvement would do. Haa… I wonder if there’s a magical tool that grandmother has never experienced?”

Once fire starts burning, it’s reluctant to extinguish.

Like a small flame inside a furnace spreading to a huge carbon, even a tiny ember is a flame that ignites.

“Hmm? Priest. Your punches have become much faster. Quicker than before.”

“Is that so? Thank you for the compliment. Mr. Akande, you’ve improved your agility quite a bit too.”

“Haha! I learned by watching the movements of monsters. Nature is the textbook of all things. Seeing the answers, it’s only natural!”

The unextinguished spark continues to blaze, and blaze again.

“-Flamma Pallida.”

“…….”

“How was that, Professor?”

“The child’s ancient magic has now reached a commendable level.”

“Hey~ Please give me more compliments. Don’t be shy—ah, wait! How can you attack sneakily like that?!”

Hoping that one day he too could become a flame.

“I’m coming.”

“Come on in.”

Thus, time flows on and on.

Before we knew it, we were left with only the final gateway.

Episode 18 – The Man Club

Humans are not born to be defeated.

The gods created humans to be free.

Wise one, awaken from your shell and seek freedom.

*

In the wilderness of dawn where darkness has not yet lifted.

The morning mist obscures sight and sound, and the wilderness is filled with unknown terror and fear.

Right there stood a candle.

Dispelling the darkness, the candle brightens the wilderness by clearing away the mist.

The seven branches stretched out like a candlestick, and the smoke rising from them reminded one of incense burnt for the gods.

“…….”

The Young Cleric, with hands raised in prayer, grasped steel.

At that moment.

-Slush….

The sound disappeared.

Hexagonal solitary cells split in parallel.

In the calm blue sea, the authority clouds formed pink ribbons.

Amidst the softly overlapping clouds against the deep dawn, the clear hexagonal sunbeams scattered, split, and collided.

Steel traversed freely through space.

Like light sharing and splitting waves, it advanced towards a side one could hardly imagine reaching.

Neither the winds of the wilderness nor the sun of the desert could restrain it.

Even the green flames blazing brightly fell like grass before the finely honed steel with hope.

Before the darkness realized it, the light was already there, and the liberated Young Cleric seized victory with a free body.

“…….”

Amidst the protective barrier that scattered like stars along the wind.

Just before touching the crown, a mace hovered precariously.

The Archmage, pushing it away with a finger, opened his mouth with a satisfied grin.

“Passed.”

*

Have courage.

Do not give up.

You might miss a miracle.

*

The sun blazes. The desert, revived with energy for the first time in a while, burned redder than usual.

Passion has the nature of igniting without one realizing it.

Once fire sticks, it rarely goes out, and hotness doesn’t easily dissipate.

The red desert and the black tattoos blaze more passionately than ever.

“K’ra-t-hama!”

The sand dunes parted to reveal the solid ground. Splash, cracks splitting in all directions, as underground water surged upwards.

With the wild horse’s kick and hoof beats echoing across the plains, as feet stomped on the ground, the desert trembled.

The stagnant water began to surge with a fierce flow, following the movements of the quaking earth.

A beast pounced toward its prey.

As fists and feet were swung, vibrant defense barriers from the protective academy unfolded.

With attacks changing every moment, precarious ruptures erupted from the various angles of the barriers.

Like thunder, sudden ambushes targeted the gaps and burrowed into the wounds.

With no forewarning, unleashed magic aimed directly at the vital points.

Yet, the beast, close to its prey, did not hesitate.

Duck to narrowly dodge the magic, the warrior struck back with a final blow.

“…….”

A kick soaring with the intent to crush the temple.

The Archmage, who blocked it with his arm, smiled as if he was impressed.

“Not bad. You also passed.”

“Shut up and keep fighting, ggrrhaaaah…!”

“Even if you passed.”

*

Magic transforms impossible things into possible ones.

Without attempts and effort, results do not exist, and without imagination, there can be no magic.

Thus, imagination is the greatest asset of a magician and at the same time, the mightiest weapon.

*

The twilight sky boasts a tranquil allure.

Rather than stiff and rigid scriptures, it’s like an epic awakening forgotten purity and childhood innocence.

And in battle, it calls back cherished memories buried deep in one’s heart.

On a desolate day, lush greenery replaces the sandy shores, and the bending pines surrounding the white sand are breaking apart.

In the melted snowfield, grass has sprouted. The parched land has cracked and torn, and soon it became desert.

Amidst the thick foliage, sunlight spills.

A purple flash shatters the air with a chilling cry.

—

Ancient magic is the root of all modern magic.

Language is the root of magic, and invocation words are the dance that delights the mana.

Tears of winter.

Breath of the typhoon.

The warmth of life and the sacredness of creation.

The blessings buried in gravity and swept away in oblivion became the key to unlock the tightly sealed box.

A world that existed only in imagination was summoned into reality.

With joy, the magical forces dance. The pain revealed by the clouds and the anger of the stones.

From thick authority clouds, hail pours down, and flashes of lightning flicker.

The green mirrors split through the scattering mana as if crashing like thunder.

It seems the surface is stained by breaths, and reflections of blue eyes can be seen in the sheen.

Mirrors embracing the midday desert sun emanate dazzling colors. In an instant, the entire area brightened.

Amidst the blades that seem just out of reach.

The wizard who climbed back through time closes his eyes to the flickering vision and concentrates.

-…….

The alarm rings.

Years of honed intuition cries out in unison.

Mana manifested without any previous warning.

As if ink were splattered on pristine white paper, the murky mana consumed the surroundings.

The wizard who lost his perception of mana unfolded a barrier. Green blades scattered in all directions without even brushing against his skin.

As the breath of the wilderness disrupts the remnant mana in the air.

The wizard who defied time prepared his counterattack, and an anomaly occurred.

Fallen blades soared upward in unison.

Noticing the reversed tune, the wizard swatted the blades aside, but before any magic could connect, three blades shot out everywhere.

“…Heh.”

Small blades storm like a tempest.

Even if pushed back by elemental magic, the blades return like boomerangs.

Witnessing this unexpected trick, the Archmage gave a wry smile.

“Was this old woman that troubling? You were so eager to devour me.”

Truly a personality that doesn’t want to lose. This is just like one of my ancestors.

Giovanni would have been thrilled to see this.

The Archmage smiled with utmost purity.

“You also passed, child.”

*

Three duels, three tests, and three victories.

Some seized it.

Some didn’t let go.

And some achieved it.

And now only the last turn remains.

“Are you ready?”

Alexandra Petrovna asks before the final gateway.

“You and you are the last. Already the final turn. Time is truly cruel…. Alright, let’s hear your impressions.”

Camila nervously stroked her wrist.

“…….”

Everyone fears failure.

Yet what one should truly fear, is not failure itself.

But rather, the absence of any attempts at all.

“Please don’t resent me too much if you pull a muscle while fighting, Professor!”

“That nasty….”

The Archmage clicked his tongue, watching his disciple tease him with a bright smile.

He thought he’d made a beast into a human, but it was all in vain.

“What sin did I commit to raise such a brat as my disciple?”

“…….”

“Don’t you have anything else to say?”

I who had been adjusting ‘Barbara’ silently, spoke up.

“Do impressions even matter?”

If there’s work to be done, then it should be done.

Having finished preparations, we advanced a step forward. The Duke also took a step forward.

Blue flames ignited at our fingertips.

Black armor resonated with a heavy clanging sound.

Long and slender fingers pointed towards the sky, whispering a short incantation.

In ancient times, humans regarded fire as a gift from the gods.

Lightning falling from the sky left fire in its place before it vanished.

Fire is a gift and grace.

Lightning is the prophet and messenger.

Fire is the child born from lightning, and lightning is the parent that gave birth to fire.

From the flickering fingertips, flames were born. Yet, despite consuming the air, the flames did not grow.

Instead, they only spat out purple sparks.

“…….”

Camila and I met eyes.

And we silently asked each other.

Can we indeed win?

Defeating the Archmage, passing through the gateway.

In the many battles we might face in the future.

Even if we reach the brink, lost and wandering.

Can we overcome it all and finally reach our destination?

It was a not-so-difficult question.

The answers were obvious.

It was the expected result.

We attempted and succeeded.

*

All members passed through the gateway.

With no dropouts, the furnace of human modification had no reason to continue existing.

We gathered around the campfire, huddled close.

Having just tasted sweet victory after a month of intense practice, one might expect us to celebrate noisily, yet surprisingly, the atmosphere was quiet.

“…….”

“…….”

The reason was clear.

Rushing to defeat just one duke was like a racehorse, for an entire month.

Initially, the duke had anticipated a training period lasting at least three months, but with his remark of ‘I’ll give you a chance once every 30 days, so put in the effort,’ it became problematic.

The moment we heard that, we reached an unspoken agreement: ‘We can’t repeat this for three months!’ and threw ourselves into practice like mad, determined to pass on the first try.

(Thinking back now, perhaps this was all part of the duke’s cunning plan. That mad wizard….)

To make matters worse, we didn’t even communicate with the outside world.

Though the duke had banned it, we only contacted once, then completely cut ties. At that time, I thought I had entered some kind of cram school.

Is this what’s called closed training or something?

Having rushed in without thinking of what’s next, how could the body remain unscathed?

Both body and mind were in a state of disarray, so indulging in victory felt ridiculous. We merely gathered like sick chickens around the campfire.

“Camila. Snap out of it.”

“I’ve come, I’ve seen, I’ve conquered.”

“What nonsense….”

First, it was clear she was not herself. Acting as if she were some Caesar or something. Saying “I came, I saw, I conquered” (Vēnī. Vīdī. Vīcī.)

“Haa….”

“I’m dead tired.”

Having resurrected faster than Jesus, at just three hours post-training, Lucia, complaining about being tired, attempted to wet her dry throat with Francesca.

“Where on earth is the water… Why are you hogging it all…?”

And then there’s Akande, who was happily munching away.

“Dinner. Very delicious meat. Perfectly grilled. Seasoned just right.”

Encountering a true barbarian (not kidding) tearing into a huge drumstick with both hands, a civilized person could only blink in bewilderment.

Lucia, who resurrected faster than Jesus (in just 2 days and 21 hours!), received water from Camila, but paused to tilt her head in confusion.

“Where did that meat come from?”

“I provided it.”

From where the sound came, stood Duke Alexandra Petrovna.

We all turned our heads in unison, and she drew everyone’s attention. To be precise, it was not the duke herself but the bundle she brought.

Sniff, sniff.

“…No way, this is!”

A cheer erupted from Camila, who began sniffing around excitedly.

“It’s food!”

The duke tossed the bundle of food to Camila with a swift gesture. What a delightful surprise! Camila gleefully began distributing the food contained in the bundle.

Seeing the reaction of his thrilled disciple, the Archmage chuckled lightly while brushing off his hands.

“Thank you, Professor!”

“Looks like the food is more welcome than your teacher.”

“Ah~ No way! Do you have any idea how much I love you, Professor? Don’t say such things, or I’d feel hurt.”

“Enough. It’s over with the training, so why nitpick. Just eat well.”

Duke Alexandra Petrovna officially declared the closure of the ‘Human Modification Furnace’.

Truly heartwarming news, and it was the second most satisfying piece of news I had ever heard in my life.

(For the record, my absolute favorite piece of news was the report of Kim Jong Il’s death. There may never be another piece of news as heartwarming and lovable as that.)

There was more than enough food. We had enough for the five of us and even the duke herself.

From local Mauritania dishes to delicacies from overseas, there was a variety of culinary delights prepared. Thanks to that, we could fill our empty stomachs leisurely.

“Uhtcha.”

As I unwrapped the bundle, wondering if there was anything more, I thought a drink would be nice.

“…Hmm?”

As I rummaged through the bundle, some strangely shaped bottles appeared. Picking one up revealed a transparent liquid sloshing inside, producing a clear sound.

The moment I opened the lid and caught a whiff, I easily realized it was alcohol.

But why would alcohol be here?

“Where did you get this from? If it’s something you drank at a foreigner-exclusive bar, that’s one thing, but alcohol sales are prohibited here.”

“It’s moonshine.”

“…Excuse me?”

The duke, with complete nonchalance, divulged the source of the alcohol.

“The embassy wizards said there’s a diplomat making moonshine to sell. So, after a lot of digging, I found him.”

“….”

I was left speechless by such brazen confidence. How could someone commit such an illegal act and still carry themselves so nonchalantly?

Of course, Alexandra Petrovna was a legendary brigand who had kidnapped a diplomat from the embassy, so buying moonshine was nothing to her.

Anyway.

Having eaten and drunk our fill, the atmosphere grew quite merry.

The group that had finally managed to escape from the hellish human-reengineering foundry celebrated their victory all night, and even the Archmage seemed unbothered today as he let loose.

“Wow, you’re really stuffing your face there. Slow down!”

“Uuuhbuhbuh!”

“Oh dear….”

Camila and Akande devoured their food as if they were being chased. Lucia and Francesca busied themselves seemingly organizing their mace and magical tools before quickly returning to sip on their drinks.

The Duke watched the scene with a smile, like a grandfather enjoying the antics of his grandchildren. Then, as if suddenly reminded of something, he posed a question to us.

“Right. With training complete, what do you all plan to do next?”

“Plans?”

Camila, who was eating chicken wings without using her hands (how does she do that?), stammered her response.

“Hmm…. Well, there’s not much of a plan. We’ll just keep saving people as usual. Deal with arms dealers, catch criminals, and hunt down those shady mages.”

“Tsk tsk.”

It seemed like Camila thought that was a pretty decent answer, but the Duke clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.

“Is that really all you aim for? Just to catch the bad guys?”

“Hey, that’s a pretty important task, you know.”

World peace!

Camila, clenching her fist in determination, shouted that out. Such a bold declaration, but sadly, she was holding a chicken leg, making the whole thing less impactful.

I had no clue what “world peace” truly meant, but at least the desire to catch the bad guys resonated with Lucia and Francesca. Naturally, Akande shared a similar sentiment but….

“Criminals. Strong enemies. Breaking skulls is not a crime. A very beautiful act.”

“…Why are you breaking heads, you lunatic?”

I still couldn’t believe he was the one among us (besides me) who had caused the least trouble.

As everyone presented similar viewpoints, the Duke softened his stance. Or perhaps he was merely poking for the sake of inquiry.

Alexandra Petrovna felt proud that their goals were lofty but also expressed concern over the perilous road ahead.

“It’s good to have grand dreams. I’m glad you have the right intentions, but I do worry you might find yourselves in great danger.”

At that moment, as the Master’s concerns pricked at the pupils like a sharp jab, the Saint and the Alchemist suddenly interjected into the conversation.

“Um….”

“Grandmother….”

“What’s going on?”

“…Wasn’t it you who created the dangers, Grandmother?”

Lucia and Francesca exchanged serious looks, as if they had just bitten into something bitter, and stared intently at the Archmage.

Because it was the truth.

1. You threw everyone into a pit of monsters, placing every conceivable restriction upon them. (??: Where is this…? / ?? : This is where a giant omelet is being created.)

2. Just when it looked like monster numbers would decrease, you filled the space with specially selected monsters. (??: I am known as Lizard. I shall take my revenge as a friend of the roasted turtle for dinner and as the husband of the tricked salamander!)

3. Without any real duel practice, if one loses, you toss them right into a pit of monsters. (??: This is the final act sequence, right? / ??: Yep, but why aren’t you dead when I’ve taken your HP down?)

Was that all there was to it?

You even ignited a diplomatic incident by breaking into residences to catch runaway students (not students at all) and turning the entire diplomatic realm into a blaze.

The Abas government, whose embassy was assaulted, must have been furious, threatening to demolish the Kien embassy stationed in their country. Of course, they didn’t actually carry it out.

Thank goodness they got word out in time; otherwise, many would have faced serious repercussions, starting from the Imperial Foreign Ministry.

While the Kien Foreign Ministry diplomats were left to plead for their lives, Lucia and Francesca were completely unaware of the extent of chaos.

They only sighed heavily when they witnessed the Kien ambassador shed tears, face aged by fifty years, during a meeting with the ambassadors dispatched to the Jamria Federation…

(For the record, this guy had been blasted by the Abas ambassador just moments before.)

Everyone likely guessed something ominous was afoot, descending into sorrow.

Oh, woe!

“…Hearing you say that is a bit—”

“Um, I hate to say this, but it seems you’ve lost your sense of propriety.”

“Yes. You’re lacking in decency, or wait. What did you just say?”

A truly shocking, outrageous joke! Francesca felt she might faint from the sheer audacity directed towards the Grandmother (not really). The Duke himself was unfazed, as though nothing had happened.

“…Ahem.”

To be honest, I acted rashly without thinking of the consequences. No matter how urgent things were, how could one just raid an embassy?

The Duke expressed his sincere regrets, realizing the situation’s gravity only thanks to the Chancellor’s phone call and the Foreign Minister’s plea. But from Abas’s standpoint, that was merely a mosquito buzzing in their ear. (??? : Give us back our civil servants;;;)

The Defense Ministry, now in chaos, stirred up further, saying, “Alright, we’ve caught wind of this. Let’s see how far we can push it.’ and made noises about rolling tanks to crush the embassy completely.

Ultimately, it was only when a certain someone, caught in a predicament between desertion and running away, contacted their parents that the situation finally calmed down.

(Though their identity was unconfirmed, someone from Colonel Frederick’s family had warned they’d “break every bone upon return,” so running away for a while was wiser than revealing oneself.)

The Duke coughed repeatedly to mask his embarrassment. But no amount of coughing could diminish the matter at hand.

One cannot escape the responsibilities brought about by their choices. A true man (or woman) must not flee but stand and face it!

Thus, Alexandra Petrovna had no choice but to admit her blunder.

“…My shadow is deep indeed.”

“I’m glad to hear you understand, Your Grace.”

The Saint scolding the Archmage; what a miraculous scene it was!

Should they let this outrageous misdeed slide or intervene? The Alchemist’s dilemma deepened like a smoldering, fading campfire.

Meanwhile, the despicable disciple didn’t even spare a glance at her master, who was being verbally thrashed by the young lady. (????? : The child deems me useless, so what joy is there in living any longer?) Yet something far more vital was being discussed.

“Where should we start when we go out?”

“The warlords first. Just before we came in, I noticed the minor warlords were scheming together.”

The spies and wannabe spies engaged in a marathon of meetings!

It was time to draw up the exhilarating ‘treasure map’ (or what might be called a human hunt).

“Warlords coming down south were all smashed and retreated. Asen and Sanya signed a ceasefire, so right now, they’re being absorbed around Hassan….”

“Leave Hassan be. So, we take care of the lesser warlords one by one?”

“Yes. They are manageable for me. It’d be better to push away the ones we can’t control.”

This was reminiscent of Western European imperialists eager to overpower the Arabian Peninsula by propping up bandits. It was also like the Western powers of the past drawing borders across Africa. Both were things the British had acted upon, and coincidentally, Camila was British.

Indeed, humanity never learns from its mistakes, and Britain exemplifies the source of all wickedness!

Oh, woe! Of all the vile ones, the British are here stirring trouble on other’s lands like their forefathers.

The spy scratched his cheek as he drew maps in the sand.

“From the intel network, there are rumors of red goblins stirring again, but that’s uncertain. We don’t have complete information yet.”

Regardless, we’d agreed to tackle the warlords first once we went out.

It wasn’t hard to gain the group’s consent. Both Lucia and Francesca were indifferent, seeing them as the bad guys, and Akande was excited about the prospect.

Oddly enough, the one worrying was not one of us but an outsider.

That is, the elderly Alexandra Petrovna in the back room.

(Now that she’s finished her training, the Duke treats her like a useless old crank. And may she remain useless from now on. For eternity, please….)

“Warlords… you’re choosing quite challenging opponents. They surely have shamans among them. You all know well just how troublesome those warlock-affiliated shamans can be.”

“….”

“Even if you’ve gained enlightenment, it could still be a tough battle. So….”

The Archmage, with a worried expression but no hesitation, added.

“Take care and return safely.”

Camila responded with a smile.

As always, with vigor.

“Yes!”

*

The campfire cast warm shadows. Crackling and popping, sparks soared into the air.

The sounds of laughter and chatter continued for quite a while.

I tore off a piece of bread and reached for my device, questioning the Duke.

“What time shall we depart tomorrow?”

“We’ll leave when you wish. Choose a convenient time.”

The sooner we leave, the better.

“Everyone should get some rest. Otherwise, you’ll end up with a headache from the drinking.”

The Duke lightly scolded the rowdy children chugging their drinks. Still, he couldn’t stop them.

The tipsy Akande sprawled out on a rock and snored, while tired Francesca leaned against a log, nodding off.

A dazed Camila played with fire near Lucia, claiming to show her something fun, and ended up setting her clothes ablaze, prompting the Duke’s “Stop!” to echo through the night sky.

I lay down under a gnarled tree and powered up my device, eager to catch up on pending messages.

“…?”

No response.

“What’s going on?”

As I tapped the device, the previously silent screen lit up, but that was where it ended.

No response, no matter how much I pressed or tapped. I couldn’t open documents or view photos.

What is, like… what’s going on here?

It felt like when I turned on an old flip phone after a year of neglect, with the screen lagging and unresponsive.

“…….”

As I stared blankly at the device, the screen suddenly shifted.

Messages from various places flooded in like mad updates. It filled the bottom left and swiftly climbed up as if hundreds of texts had arrived all at once.

Military Intelligence Agency, Royal Intelligence Department, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Embassy….

By merely glancing at the headers, one could grasp what the contents were likely about.

《 Leaders of the Eastern Region warlords gathered at a safe house in Songpundu: HUMINT (Human Intelligence) → Confirmed through All source (Intelligence based on various sources, including human and technical intelligence). 》

《 Jamria Federation Ministry of Defense issues orders for heightened surveillance and alertness to Southern Regional Federation forces. Appears to be in anticipation of possible clashes following a ceasefire agreement between Asen and Sanya. : SIGINT (Signal Intelligence) 》

– Following this, multiple regional military forces moved to the south.

– Recognized as units drawn from the East and West, raising concerns among local figures regarding security vacuums due to these movements.

《 Large-scale bloodshed occurred in Kafuyambe, Western Region: OSINT (Open Source Intelligence) 》

– Local media reports, deaths range from a minimum of 21 to a maximum of 80.

– Confirmed casualties of 6 regional police stations and 2 military observation posts.

– Suspected remnants of explosives found on-site, revealing sugar content. Analyzes it was an improvised explosive device using a dehydration reaction between sulfuric acid and sugar.

– Some local media reports claim attackers were suspected shamans based on residents’ testimonies.

《 Eastern and Western warlords released statements claiming responsibility for the Kafuyambe bloodbath: OSINT. 》

– Considering the capabilities of the Eastern and Western warlords, there appear to be no armed groups with the potential to carry out surprise attacks on 8 hard targets (Well-fortified governmental facilities, military bases, embassies).

《 At 2140 local time on the 26th, a skirmish occurred between armed groups presumed to be warlords and federal troops on the outskirts of Umsalga: 》

– A third secretary returning to accommodations witnessed the gunfight. Both groups reportedly wore military uniforms.

《 A military rebellion has broken out in the Jamria Federation. 》

《 Continuous gunfire and explosions reported within Umsalga. 》

《 PFF Communications: “Umsalga city experiencing disturbances”: OSINT. 》

《 Analyzing the actions as the work of military officers dissatisfied with specific ethnic favoritism. : SIGINT. 》

《 28 hard targets including the Central Court, Presidential Palace, and Main Foreign Ministry were attacked: OSINT. 》

《 Many military personnel and bodies received at hospitals in Umsalga, presumed to belong to federal security forces responding to the coup: HUMINT. 》

《 A vehicle departing from the Presidential Palace is headed towards the eastern highway of Umsalga. Identified as belonging to the President’s security detail: IMINT (Imagery Intelligence) 》

《 Rebels have detained government ministers of the Jamria Federation and declared a suspension of the constitution. Until further notice, martial law is declared, borders closed, nighttime curfew in effect, and all state institutions disbanded. : All source. 》

“…….”

A chilling silence fell over the place.

Camila, who had approached my side, read the text on the screen with a very serious expression.

《 Captain Kasim, a key figure in the Jamria Federation rebellion stated, “The capture of criminals by foreign individuals without jurisdiction is a violation of constitutional order. The traitor ‘Ayad’ is conspiring with foreign forces to undermine the security of the Federation…” : OSINT. 》

《 PFF Communications “Captain Kasim of the Jamria Federation military declared, foreigners who have engaged in illegal vigilante activities in the Jamria Federation have 24 hours to leave the region…? Final warning? ” : OSINT. 》

《 PFF Communications “Wanted: 5 fleeing foreign individuals.” : OSINT. 》

《 President Ayad of the Jamria Federation successfully escaped the rebels, fleeing to a neighboring country. : All source. 》

《 “The president should not flee like a coward but return and fight… Armed members of both ruling and opposition parties clashed with the rebels in the Federation Congress.” : OSINT. 》

…What is the meaning of all this?

Episode 18 – Man Club – END –

 

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