Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 823, Section 33: Dying is something to be happy about.
Although Akechi had previously held supreme command authority, that was ultimately a temporary authority granted to him by Hanako Arasaka while he was imprisoned.

At that time, he was like a man in shackles—although he held military power, he had to deal with the commanders of the Pheasant Faction. Every decision had to be made under the supervision of the 100 Ninjas, discussed with the Pheasant Faction members, and he even had to endure their questioning and overt and covert obstruction.

But now, everything is different.

The command granted by Hanako Arasaka herself was like a demonic sword, 'Muramasa,' unsheathed, radiating a chilling sharpness.

This power, personally bestowed by the leader of the Pheasant Faction, instantly transformed Mingzhi from a 'temporary commander' into a true 'spokesperson for Hua Zi'. Those Pheasant Faction members who could previously question and inquire about him have now completely lost this power.

There will be no more opponents or questioners; now, the wise ruler holds the power of life and death—he can send these pawns to their deaths at will.

Even if they were ordered to confront Adam-Hammer's steel body head-on with their own flesh and blood, or to investigate Takemura Goro's whereabouts alone, they would not dare to disobey, because refusing wise orders would be an open betrayal of Arasaka Hanako's will.

And the will to resist Arakawa Hanako? The Pheasant Faction has never had such an ability.

In the past, they were firmly bound to the power network of their families, with no room for struggle. Now, even with the turbulent situation and factional infighting, they are still trapped beasts, locked in Hua Zi's shadow, with even breathing becoming a luxury.

From the time of Saburo Arasaka to the time of Hanako Arasaka, the Pheasant Faction has always been like a flock of domesticated birds—with bright feathers and a loud cry, yet forever imprisoned in a gilded cage.

They cannot learn the eagle's arrogance, let alone the soaring flight of a pigeon; they can only obediently lower their heads and spread their magnificent tail feathers on the floor designated by their master.

Saburo used power and tradition to tame them, while Hua Zi continued to tighten the chains with an iron fist and a combination of kindness and severity.

They might be able to flaunt their feathers at a banquet and win a few compliments, but once they try to break free of their cage, they will find that their wings have long since atrophied—they can neither fly over the impenetrable walls of the desolate tower nor escape the invisible reins in Hua Zi's hands.

Wise has obtained the chains that imprison them.

Since Arakawa Hanako has already given him absolute authority, wouldn't it be a waste not to make the most of that authority?
He recalled the battle plan, and the conservative defensive deployments seemed full of loopholes to him—the scattered firing points and the timid blocking positions revealed the usual cowardice of the pheasant faction.

Now, it's time to reinvent everything the way he did.

"Dismantle the multiple blocking formations." His voice was neither loud nor soft, but the command he gave froze the entire Pheasant Faction command room at the rear. "Everyone on the first blocking line, move five meters to the right—I want them to be on the high ground and give the enemy an unforgettable greeting with bullets."

Hearing wise instructions, the air in the command room froze like lead.

The commanders of the Pheasant Faction struggled to speak, their Adam's apples bobbing, cold sweat trickling down their temples, yet none dared utter a single word of dissent.

The invisible chains seemed to click in the silence, tightening painfully in their chests, yet they didn't even have the courage to loosen their ties or take a deep breath—as if such a gesture would be seen as a sign of rebellion.

A wise battle plan is blatantly obvious to a professional commander: a defensive tactic that disregards casualties and uses flesh and blood to build a defensive line.

Every adjustment of the coordinates conveys the same message—their lives are merely consumables, and as long as Miss Hua's safety is ensured, it is worth sacrificing as many as possible.

How ironic.

Just recently, when Mingzhi was only a temporary commander, they could still use the excuse of tactical flexibility to leave themselves room to maneuver in their defensive arrangements. Those carefully designed crossfires and tiered defenses were less about blocking the enemy and more about preserving their own lives. But now, with Hua Zi's appointment, the scales have tipped completely.

Every location that Wisely points out will become their graveyard, and all they can do is stand tall and face death—after all, from a tactical perspective, the plan is indeed flawless; the only 'flaw' is that the executors may have to pay with their lives.

But who cares? In the corporate game, human lives are nothing more than numbers that can be erased at any time.

These commanders knew all too well that if they were in charge, they would also not hesitate to sacrifice others.

After all, compared to a few lives, gaining Miss Hua's favor is the most important thing. As long as it's not him who dies, those lives thrown into the meat grinder are just necessary bargaining chips on the road to promotion.

Only today, when a cold, sharp knife is held to their own necks, have they finally tasted the bitterness of being discarded like pawns.

Even so, they still couldn't truly understand the fear that their subordinates, who had faced death under their casual orders, had felt.

At this moment, what filled their minds was not guilt towards the victims, but rather an epiphany about the game of power:

Being wise is simply doing what we would do.
Blame yourself for not climbing high enough.
This is Arasaka's survival rule.
They would never question the cruelty of the system until their deaths, because in this power cage personally built by Saburo Arasaka, cruelty was never a mistake, but the rule for survival.

Decades of domestication have ingrained this logic into the very marrow of every Arasaka person—and the commanders of the Pheasant Faction are no exception.

So when it was wise to move them to the front lines, no one was surprised.

These pampered commanders were forced to pick up their guns, not for any of the sole strategic value of 'buying time,' as Wise, or rather Karl—knew better than anyone else—that they couldn't gain even a minute.

These pheasant-affiliated commanders might think this command was just to buy a few seconds of time, but Karl knew what his real purpose was.

This was just an execution.

Carl was just sending them to their deaths.

Karl understood the true nature of these people.

They will never learn to cherish other people's lives, and they will never understand why they are dying. They will only be like domesticated poultry, thinking about the feed in the trough before the butcher's knife falls.

Therefore, Karl no longer intended to value their lives.

Carl certainly doesn't like seeing people die, but some people will never change.

For such a person, the mere thought of death is enough to make Karl happy.

(End of this chapter)