Ming East India Company

"Ah!" Upon hearing this, the Spaniards in the room all gasped in shock.

Private negotiations are already a serious crime, but killing the governor would send everyone in this room to the gallows.

"Mr. Sanchez, is there any other way? Could we try to negotiate with the Ryukyuans again? Even if it's just some compensation?"

"The archbishop said anxiously."

"This is the best condition. You killed tens of thousands of Ming Dynasty exiles in the Eighth Company. You must offer some heavyweight heads to atone for your mistakes."

Sanchez smiled and looked around at everyone.

Garcia thought for a moment:

"The problem is that according to the kingdom's laws, if we kill the governor sent by the king without authorization, we'll be executed if it's discovered!"

Sanchez's smile vanished:

"You can rest assured about that. The entire city of Manila now knows that negotiation is the only way out, and His Majesty the King is thousands of miles away. As long as we keep it a secret, no one will find out."

"Moreover," Sanchez changed the subject, "I have reached an agreement with the merchants in the city that as long as the Ryukyuans can lift the blockade, the merchants will not only keep silent about what you have done."

Furthermore, each of you will receive an additional reward to compensate for the losses you suffered in this war.

After Spain began colonizing the Philippines, many Spanish officials stationed in the colony began to amass wealth by abusing their power. Those like Acuña, who anonymously invested, were relatively restrained.

Some Spanish officials even established plantations in the area, employing local natives and enslaved people to grow crops such as sugarcane for profit.

During the siege of Ryukyu, many Spanish plantations were destroyed by Lynn.

Wherever Lynn's rebel army went, crops in the fields were forcibly harvested, and natives and black slaves were either freed or simply joined the rebel army.

Spanish officials suffered heavy losses in the process.

Therefore, they are eager to end this war as soon as possible, especially since the Ryukyuans have not yet become angry.

Sanchez's allure of profit, coupled with the threat of being cannon fodder by the Ryukyuans.

Those present quickly reached a consensus to murder Acunia and surrender the city.

Even Archbishop Benavides offered psychological counseling to everyone:

"Although what we did was illegal, our original intention was to save God's chosen people in Manila. If God knew, He would forgive us."

You need not be afraid. As the archbishop, I will spend the rest of my life praying for you devoutly. I can assure you that you will all ascend to heaven after you die.

After listening to the archbishop's words, the Spaniards present were completely relieved and began to plan their actions.

"We need to carefully plan how to send the heads of Acunia and his nephew over there; it has to be done neatly enough."

A smile appeared on Sanchez's lips.

For him, killing Acunia would not only solve the current trade crisis, but also allow him to take over Acunia's shares, which would be a rare opportunity to make a fortune.

……

A few days later, Archbishop Benavides knocked on Acuña's door, who had been drinking for several days.

From inside came Acunia's drunken, extremely irritable voice: "Get out! I told you, I won't see anyone! Anyone who dares to disturb me will be met with my whip!"

The archbishop did not back down; his voice, gentle yet steady, penetrated the wooden door and clearly entered the room:

"Your Excellency, it is I, Benavides. I am here as the Archbishop of Manila to see you, solely for God's will, not for worldly disputes."

There was a moment of silence in the room, followed by the sound of clinking bottles, and then the door was suddenly pulled open.

Acuña stood inside the door, his clothes disheveled, reeking of alcohol, his eyes bloodshot, his face swollen and haggard, his gaze toward the archbishop filled with impatience, irritability, and numbness.

"Archbishop, I've already said I won't see anyone. I absolutely will not agree to negotiations, and you don't need to try to persuade me anymore." Acunia's voice was hoarse as she turned to retreat back into the house. "I'm tired, I need to rest."

"Sir, I have not come here today for these matters." The archbishop stepped forward slowly, gently closed the door, and blocked the view from outside.

He looked at the dejected and alcohol-destroyed governor with a hint of pity in his eyes, his tone devout and solemn.

"I have come only for the souls of adults, for the souls of tens of thousands of believers in Manila."

Acunia paused, but without turning around, she spoke coldly:

"My soul is none of the archbishop's concern. If God has eyes, He should let the Spanish reinforcements arrive sooner, instead of watching us be trapped and die here."

"God's salvation never comes to those who give up on themselves and close their hearts."

Benavides slowly walked up behind him, his voice gentle yet firm, without a trace of coercion, only the admonition and compassion of an elder.

"Governor, I know that you are in pain and resentful after the disastrous naval defeat, and you spend your days drinking to escape your current predicament and inner torment."

"But you are the Governor of Manila, the secular leader of tens of thousands of Spanish expatriates, and God's secular guardian in the Far East."

You now shut yourself away, wallowing in alcoholism and despair. This is not upholding dignity; it is abandoning your soul and allowing despair to devour the mission God has given you.

Acuña's body trembled slightly, and the hand gripping the bottle tightened unconsciously, but she still did not turn around.

The archbishop watched his retreating figure, his tone growing increasingly earnest as he slowly revealed the true purpose of his journey, his voice devout and flawless:

"The people and parishioners in the city are now living in constant fear. They see no hope and can only pray to God. They need their governor to step forward and pray with them, asking God to send down a miracle to end the war and quell the calamity."

Tomorrow evening, Manila Cathedral will host a citywide Expiatory Mass, inviting only key city officials and devout parishioners to participate solely for prayer and blessings.

In my capacity as the Archbishop of Manila, I implore you, Your Excellency, to set aside your anger and despair, put down your wine glass, and go to the Cathedral to preside over this Mass, joining the people of the city in prayer.

Benavides' words struck a chord with Acuña's numb and vulnerable heart.

Already gripped by self-doubt due to the defeat, he spent his days drinking to escape, yet deep down he still harbored a reverence for religion. For him now, going to church was indeed an outlet for escaping reality and seeking spiritual solace.

After a long silence, he spoke in a hoarse voice, his tone tinged with a weary resignation: "I understand. Tomorrow evening, I will go to the cathedral to preside over Mass."

"Thank you, Your Excellency. God will surely bless you and Manila." The archbishop bowed slightly, his expression devout, but a cold resolve flashed deep in his eyes.

He turned and left the study, gently closing the door behind him without saying another word.

……

Manila Cathedral at dusk.

This most solemn Catholic church in the colonial Far East, with its melodious bells and hymns, is a spiritual haven for the Spanish expatriates and a symbol of the intertwining of colonial authority and religious divinity.

Today, however, the church doors were tightly shut, and the stained-glass windows that were usually open were all drawn. The heavy curtains blocked out all the light, leaving only a few candles on the altar, flickering in the dim light, casting the huge shadow of the cross onto the cold stone floor, making it look solemn and eerie.

The archbishop, dressed in a plain bishop's robe with a silver cross on his chest, stood below the altar, his face solemn and his eyes heavy.

Behind him stood the cathedral's priests and monks, all bowing their heads; among the crowds on either side of the altar, most of Manila's high-ranking officials stood praying devoutly.

The governor's carriage slowly came to a stop in front of the cathedral.

The car door opened, and Acuña stepped out.

He had long lost the imposing presence of a former governor; his tuxedo was rumpled, his hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, and he reeked of alcohol. Even standing before the solemn church doors, his gaze remained unfocused, and his steps unsteady.

"Your Excellency, you have finally arrived! The entire city has been eagerly awaiting this Mass, praying that God would grant a miracle and avert this calamity."

The archbishop stepped forward slowly, his expression devout and gentle, his tone earnest. He bowed slightly, making an inviting gesture.

"Please follow me inside. The altar is ready, and the Mass will begin immediately."

Acuña glanced at the solemn church doors, then at the serene-faced archbishop, and sauntered up to them.

Inside the church, all was silent except for the crackling of the candlelight and the echo of their footsteps on the stone floor.

Acunia followed the archbishop step by step toward the altar. He glanced around and noticed something was amiss.

Normally, such Mass events would invite many people, but now only a few high-ranking officials he knew were present. He couldn't help but frown, his tone tinged with a drunken confusion:

"Archbishop, why is the church so deserted today? Where are the believers you invited?"

"Governor, the war is critical and people are in a state of panic. In order to avoid causing riots, this Mass will only invite the city's core officials to pray together, so that God may bless His Majesty the King's achievements in the Far East and make them last forever."

The archbishop spoke calmly and reassured him without stopping, leading him to the center of the altar.

Just as Acuña stood still, preparing to bow to the cross according to ritual, the archbishop suddenly took a step back, raised his hand to hold up the cross to his chest, and his voice suddenly turned cold, breaking the deathly silence in the church.

"Pedro de Acuña, as the Governor of Manila, you refused to flee after the defeat in the foreign war, disregarding the interests of all the true Spanish expatriates in the city, pushing Manila towards annihilation! You are a sinner to the entire city, and a sinner to God!"

These words, like a thunderclap, resounded throughout the church.

Acunia looked up abruptly, his face full of astonishment. His eyes instantly changed from confusion to shock. He looked at the archbishop's cold expression and then at the crowds approaching from both sides. He instantly understood something, his expression changed drastically, and he sobered up considerably in an instant.

"What...what do you want to do?"

He roared and instinctively stepped back, trying to reach for the sword at his waist, but it was already too late.

The moment the archbishop finished speaking, the Spaniards on both sides of the altar surged out like a tide, surrounding Acuña in the center of the altar.

"Acuña, you are a sinner in Manila. Today, we will end this calamity for all the Spanish expatriates in the city!" Garcia, the city's defense commander, spoke in a deep voice, his tone icy, and he drew the short blade hidden at his waist first.

Acuña tried to call for help, but the church doors were already locked tight, and he was surrounded by officials. He was all alone, unarmed, and had no way to escape.

"I am the governor personally appointed by the King of Spain! If you kill me, you will be guilty of treason, severely punished by the royal family, and condemned by God!"

No one gave him another chance to say a word.

Someone rushed forward first, and the short blade in their hand plunged fiercely into Acunia's chest.

Blood gushed out instantly, splashing onto the cold stone ground, onto the solemn altar, staining the stone slabs beneath their feet and the huge cross beside them.

"ah--!"

Acuña let out a piercing scream. His eyes widened as he stared in disbelief at the short blade piercing his chest, and at the officials and generals who usually treated him with utmost respect and obedience. His eyes were filled with anger, fear, and resentment.

But this is just the beginning.

After the first person made a move, everyone else stopped hesitating. As if a fuse had been lit, they all raised their short blades and daggers and rushed forward, stabbing fiercely at Acunia, who was surrounded in the center.

One stab after another. Everyone was involved in this murder.

According to their previous plan, each person needed to stab Acunia to prove their resolve.

Acunia's body was pierced by countless blades, covered in blood, and lay motionless in the pool of blood beneath the altar.

This once arrogant governor, who held absolute power over Manila's colonial rule, ultimately died at the hands of all the officials under his command.

"Gentlemen, things have come to this point, and we have no way out."

The archbishop stood on the altar, his voice calm and solemn, suppressing everyone's emotions.

"As agreed, take his head and send it to the Ryukyu Allied Forces camp in exchange for the safety of the entire city."

Two soldiers stepped forward, took out a white cloth that had been prepared beforehand, bent down to treat Acunia in the pool of blood, cleanly and neatly removed her head, wrapped it in layers of white cloth, and placed it in an exquisite wooden box.

As for Acunia's body, it was secretly collected and quietly buried in the cemetery behind the church, leaving no trace, as if it had never existed.

Meanwhile, on the other hand, the death of Acuña's nephew Diego was much simpler.

The city's defense commander, Garcia, recruited several soldiers and tricked them into gambling at a casino. Late into the night, the frustrated Acuña, having lost so much, refused to accept defeat, and the group went out to arrange a fight.

Upon arriving at the destination, Acunia was cracked open in the head during a fight.

As darkness fell completely, the church doors slowly opened a crack, and Sanchez, carrying a wooden box containing the heads of Acunia and Acunia Jr., quietly left the cathedral. Under the cover of night, he boarded a small boat and silently sailed out of Manila Harbor toward the Ryukyu Allied Forces fleet.