A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 211 Cloud surge
Thursday, July 17th, foggy and rainy.

This sweltering and annoying season won't end until September. The pervasive smell of rain in the city makes everyone miss the refreshing sunny days of just half a month ago. If only the college could dispel the dark clouds every day.

The magnificent Baroque-style building of the Eswell Parliament stood in the rain. The city's flags were soaked and looked as if they were stuck to the flagpoles. Everything seemed to be drooping under the ravages of the rain. But the two rows of soldiers stationed in front of the main entrance of the Parliament building were not like that.

They stood in the rain, their backs straight as javelins, their entire bodies clad in top-quality composite leather armor produced by the Dongguo Military Industry Group. The muskets, shields, bayonets, and batons they carried gleamed silver, their eyes scanning the rain and mist with sharp, piercing intensity.

A closer look reveals the peculiarity of their weapons. Unlike the bolt-action muskets of the law enforcement officers, their muskets are shorter and thicker, with two barrels running side by side. This type of musket sacrifices firing range and accuracy in exchange for a larger gunpowder charge and shotgun shells that no one can dodge at close range. This is the latest type of musket in the Eastern Kingdom, which they proudly call "the most solid cornerstone of the defensive empire," and only the Kingdom of Ron has a very limited distribution rights in the Southern Continent.

But each of these soldiers had one.

Their shields, bayonets, and batons were not large and not suitable for battlefield combat. Their leather armor was also clearly insufficient for protection against blunt weapons. However, these weapons were surprisingly effective in the complex urban environment. These soldiers were armed purely for urban warfare.

It is obvious that they are not law enforcement officers.

The black and brown-faced people of the Western Continent, the orcs with furry faces, and the exceptionally robust people of the Northern Continent.
The law enforcement officers in Ishvale have strict requirements. Apart from "instructors" planted by neighboring countries, they only recruit local citizens. Moreover, they must be authentic Ishvales whose ancestors have been white for three generations and who must eat barbecue with sweet and sour barbecue sauce.

Their hat brims bear a unique emblem: a tower symbolizing Grindelwald's Eye, and two wings resembling the sails of an airship.

These two rows of soldiers standing in front of the Eswell Parliament Building are the newly formed Eswell Air Transport Corps.

The reason they stood in front of the building instead of going inside to take shelter from the rain was simple—it wasn't for any kind of training, but because the law stipulated that only law enforcement officers could be stationed at Parliament, and if they carried weapons and stepped onto the Parliament steps, it would be considered an attack on Parliament.

However, the law does not stipulate that these people cannot stay outside of parliament.

They stood in two rows, facing outwards and inwards, staring at the law enforcement officers stationed atop the building. The thick rain couldn't conceal the defiant glint in the airmen's eyes, which the officers pretended not to see, their eyes vacant as they waited to clock out.

The law enforcement officer knew very well that the airmen were different from them. They had not grown up in comfortable and peaceful cities, but in the war-torn West Continent. Their daily work was not catching thieves or making things difficult for Westwellers trying to enter Eastwell at checkpoints. Before they put on this gear, they were all genuine outlaws.

The most vicious bandits, the most notorious mercenaries, the pirates who ravaged shipping routes, and the adventurers who fought monsters—all from the northern continent had heavy tattoos on their faces that couldn't even be completely concealed.

The council's draft regulations for the airborne troops stated that they would be selected from the public, with background checks to be relaxed, requiring good character and no criminal record. Before anyone even understood what the airborne troops were, or even before recruitment posters were distributed, recruitment was quickly closed. It's unclear where Elon suddenly pulled up this force of 500 men; even opening the gates of Eswell prison wouldn't necessarily yield that many high-profile criminals. The Speaker waved his hand, approving them all.

The strangest thing is that these people don't look like they've only been training for two months. You can tell from their simplest posture—shoulder to shoulder, step to step, each person's area of ​​alert is different yet complements each other. You can't even tell who the leader is. They can perform their duties without any instructions.

The law enforcement officers pretended not to see anything. Anyone would have reservations about having such a force guarding the city in their place, and they ultimately opposed it—the law enforcement officers had excellent benefits, and if the air force expanded, it would inevitably squeeze their benefits and size.

Judging from the occasional arguments emanating from inside the parliament building, the lawmakers are relentlessly attacking the paratroopers.

They even attacked that acting congressman, Mr. Elon, a man who had recently been making headlines in Eswell.

His approval rating was 84%, and that was without even considering the residents of Seaville. He had almost unanimous support from the city's ordinary people. The few objections were against his plan to grant residency to refugees, which stemmed from the discrimination locals faced against outsiders begging for food.

This meeting has been going on for four hours since this morning, and the members of parliament are practically hoarse from shouting.

"Damn it, Ron is incompetent. It seems I have to come out of retirement!"

Member of Parliament Oliver, representing Britain, slammed his fist on the table and pointed at Elon, who was resting with his eyes closed across the Parliament's circular hall.

"I only have one question! Where's your dad? You're not a congressman yet! Let old Branson speak! What right does this brat, who hasn't even grown his pubic hair yet, have to sit here and talk about reform? Get out!!"

It has to be said that being a senator requires some skill. This verbal battle lasted for four hours, and Oliver still had plenty of energy. His spittle almost flew across half the hall and landed on Elon's face.

Elon smiled and waved without the slightest annoyance.

His secretary, carrying a thick stack of documents, stepped forward and began repeating the same thing to the arcane microphone for the fifth time:
"By the witness of the Holy Spirit and the Goddess of Order, I, Reeve Branson, am now unable to perform my duties as a Member of Parliament due to intermittent coma syndrome. In accordance with Section 162 of the Elswell Parliament Act, I hereby entrust my son, Elon Branson, to act in my stead."

The power of attorney in Elon's hand bore his father's fingerprint and the seal of the White Church bishop. Oliver couldn't question the document's validity, so he could only approach it from another angle, beginning to interrupt with a cold smile:

"Oh, has any of you seen Mr. Reeve in the last two years?"

He glanced around at the members of parliament. "You? You? Or you? Have you seen him before? Very well, no one has. Who knows if this little bastard has imprisoned his father—"

Elon said calmly, "After Parliament ends, you will receive a lawyer's letter regarding defamation."

"Slander? You dare bring your father out here!"

Speaker Warren, seated at the head of the parliamentary seats, raised his hand and said calmly, "I've met him. Mr. Reeve is in good health and he fully supports Mr. Elon's decision."

Oliver glared at him: "You dare swear on your loyalty to the Emperor?!"

Valen snorted coldly, admitting that he had been deflected by the opponent.

"Still support his decision? Don't you see what kind of shit is in his head? Have you even read his bullshit 'Social Security Law'? I've already given my employees jobs, why should I pay their insurance? What does this have to do with me?"

"Paying is one thing, but paying so much, and then there's unemployment insurance? Even if it's the highest heaven of the gods, if they lose their jobs, it's their own business. The minimum weekly wage is one silver coin and six pence! Even the damned cleaners and kitchen helpers have to pay, how many businesses will go bankrupt?! Don't you know how many employees your Branson family has?"

It's normal for Oliver to be so excited.

Britain's main industries in Eastwell were iron smelting and the railway transportation industry, which it almost monopolized downstream of iron smelting. They employed a large number of basic laborers, especially porters and ironworks workers in Westwell. Elon's Act would have been fine if it had only been implemented in Eastwell, but he included Westwell as well, which meant that Britain's upstream and downstream industries had to pay for the labor of hundreds of thousands of workers.

Of course, the Branson family has quite a few employees, and a simple accounting check would reveal the enormous expenses that accumulate over the years.

Elon's father, Mr. Reeve, was no philanthropist—a man who was too kind to his employees could not have built the Branson family into the richest family in Ashwell in just twenty years. Everyone here was a capitalist; who had a cleaner genitals than whom? So Oliver simply did not believe that Reeve would approve of his son's actions.

Elon pressed down on the case on the table, the parliamentary spotlight fell on his head, and he began to speak:

“If you say this is a crumbling city, a city on the verge of collapse, then it is indeed unreasonable to suddenly burden businesses with a large expenditure. But Eswell, huh.”

Elon's forced smile:
"Bankruptcy? It's just giving up some profits. Do you think Eswell is Britain? Instead of worrying about our company's bankruptcy, you should worry about your own country. Don't wait until the company's management changes and you don't even know it. Oh, so the king is going to be replaced too." Bavarian MP Eugenia giggled, "Oh dear, Mr. Oliver, your blushing is so cute!"

Oliver was immediately choked by the red light and almost passed out.

"Britain has been at war for half a month now, what, hasn't the little Lawrence Territory been taken yet?"

Oliver took a deep breath and straightened his tie, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Lawrence and the rebels are stubborn and refuse to budge from the city. War is no joke. If we launch a full-scale attack, there will be devastation. Our king loves his people like his own children and cannot bear to see such a scene. We are still negotiating."

"Can't bear it? Are you afraid the Eternal Church will use the massacre of believers as an excuse to defect, and then the Kingdom's army won't be able to defeat them? Hahahaha."

"You fucking bitch—"

Speaker Warren struck the hammer at the opportune moment, forcibly stopping Oliver.

"Congressman Oliver, this is the third warning you're issuing. Stop using vulgar language. If it happens a fourth time, you will be expelled from this meeting according to the rules."

"Haha, how cute! Mr. Oliver's face is as red as a tomato—"

Oliver inhales, exhales, inhales, exhales
"Everyone."

He looked around, casting a sincere glance even at his arch-rival, Congressman Ron: "Do you really completely agree with Elon's new legal reforms?"

Everyone fell silent, even Senator Eugenia stopped smiling.

“Once the new tax law is implemented, most of the high taxes will fall on your shoulders in Bavaria’s tobacco, luxury goods, and livestock industries.”

He looked at Kaf of the Alexandre family and continued to incite, "Just like I've been telling you all this time."

“I know you’ve resigned yourself to your fate, and your family has accepted the prospect of losing their parliamentary seats because you believe that even without being a member of parliament, you can live comfortably on the real estate accumulated by your ancestors. There are many people in the government who listen to you, and you can still make a fortune in Ashwell.”

"But have you considered that the Branson family's peace with you is just a way to keep you in line right now? Once you're no longer a congressman and his anti-corruption law is implemented, do you think officials will still listen to you? With so many complicated taxes, in less than ten years, the Branson family will have swallowed up all of the Alexander family's wealth accumulated over thousands of years."

"You've seen those airmen; they're basically Elon's private army. Do you really believe they can enforce the law impartially?"

Kaf's face grew increasingly grim.

Oliver then looked at Representative Inamori and Wada from the East and said bluntly, "I know that the East's zaibatsu don't have many employees in Eswell. You're in the trading business, so Elon's tax law and social security law don't have much impact on you. But have you ever thought about—"

Oliver pointed to Speaker Warren on the platform.

"For the first time in so many years, our Governor has taken sides—do you think there's nothing fishy going on between Elon and the Empire?"

Inamori Wada looked at Elon, the refined, black-haired middle-aged man, whose eyes held a questioning gaze. Elon offered no explanation, maintaining an upright and righteous demeanor.

“To be honest—” Oliver gave a wry smile, “as you know, our country is in a state of chaos right now, and the situation is not optimistic. If the Misty Sea opens up and the Emperor sends his troops south, Britain will not be able to step up and help immediately.”

"And Ron, who seems to have been watching the show all along, surely recognizes the leather armor and muskets worn by the airmen, right? Don't think that just because of the marriage alliance with Lord Cavendish, Ron and the Eastern Kingdom will always maintain a close cooperation. The best weapons you sold to Ron all ended up in Elon's hands. Why?"

Oliver spoke with eloquence: "If the Imperial fleet sails south, the Eastern Kingdom, situated between the north and south, will be the first to suffer. You don't really think that muskets and cannons can stop the Imperial heavy cavalry, do you? They have the only army among humankind capable of achieving a one-to-one casualty ratio with the Demon King's army! What does your Eastern Kingdom have? Black and white comics, or idol groups?"

He raised his left hand.

"Now I will make the proposal."

"Pursuant to the amendments to Section 162 of the Elswell Parliament Act, I question Elon Branson's performance of his duties as acting member of parliament and request a hearing in which Reeve Branson must appear to defend his chosen representative."

The lights flickered and dimmed at that moment.

The second person to raise their hand was Kraft.

He gritted his teeth: "I agree."

Oliver was right. If they lost their seats in Congress, the Alexandria family would be at Elon's mercy.

Rather than waiting to die, it's better to fight for your life.

Eugenia glanced at Elon, who was sitting to her right, and the still-charming noblewoman sighed softly.

"Eron, you're being too radical. Bavaria still has faith in you, but only if you make concessions."

After a moment, she shook her head.

"Abstain".

Speaker Warren raised his right hand expressionlessly.

"be opposed to."

After seeing the speaker raise his hand, Representative Inamori Wada, who had been hesitant, finally expressed his opinion: "I agree."

Elon raised his right hand. "Objection."

The third dim spotlight shone, and the council had a total of nine votes, now three to three, with one abstention. The academy representative no longer tacitly abstained, so everyone's eyes fell on the face of the last member of the council, Ron.

Is Ron, as rumored, a behind-the-scenes supporter of the Branson family?
(End of this chapter)