The Plan's Loss of Control

"Kill these foreigners!"

The shouts from the crowd grew louder and louder. At first, people were a little confused. The Nagaril People didn't really have a tradition of resistance. Their religion always told them that patience was more likely to give them a better chance of being reborn than revenge.

The vast majority of people lacked the potential and intention to "take the lead." In fact, most of the people who gathered around were there to watch the spectacle and see if there was any opportunity to take advantage of the situation, just like when they stormed Lin Qi's workers' quarters or broke into a wealthy man's house to loot it not long ago.

They are ruthless against crimes committed by their fellow countrymen, such as petty theft. Once these people are caught, it is very difficult for them to see the police while they are still alive.

However, they do not yet have the courage to "kill" foreigners, because these foreigners have played the role of the Third Ruling Class for a long time, and their social and political status is far higher than that of ordinary people.

Ordinary people might dare to follow the crowd and reap some benefits, but no one would dare to stand up and shout "Kill them!" The nature of the situation is different, and it's too dangerous.

In Nagaril, the gods forgive the sins of the rich, but never spare a poor person.

But at that very moment, someone shouted out, seemingly intending to do just that.

A young Nagaril People climbed over the wall of a wealthy man's house, his face filled with rage. He waved his fists and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Charge in, kill these foreigners, and take back everything that belongs to us!"

Although he was quickly knocked down by a flurry of blows, a second person appeared, then a third, and people's faces revealed something they had never seen before.

"They're not our people." The leader of the Youth Party in the Mengwu Province, who had rushed over, looked somewhat grave. He was half-squatting on the canopy of a tree about twenty meters away.

The view here is excellent; you can clearly see most of the wealthy man's house, as well as the ever-growing number of fellow countrymen.

Some key members of the Youth Party were sitting next to him, and there were also some of their people under the tree.

From the moment they heard that a foreigner had tortured and murdered a local maid, they actively followed up on the matter and rushed to the scene immediately.

But what they didn't expect was that there were others who were even faster than them—those who were leading the charge in storming the mansions of the wealthy.

They hadn't been able to spot these people in the crowd before, but now they'd been exposed.

It was precisely because these people were not members of the Youth Party that the short young man felt things were getting complicated.

He knew the character of the natives of Nagaril, his fellow countrymen, very well. They would never and would never dare to do such a thing, especially since they had previously looted another wealthy man's house—they came empty-handed. As the first to storm into the house, they should have gotten more than the others.

Having acquired the goods, they shouldn't continue causing trouble. Instead, they should quickly return home, hide the goods, and sell them to consignors on the nearby black market after the commotion has passed, making a profit.

This is almost an unspoken tradition, a rule that everyone does. If you get caught, you can only say you're out of luck; if you don't get caught, you make a fortune.

But these people weren't. Their hands were empty; they weren't carrying anything. The anger on their faces was exaggerated, and their actions were... too purposeful. They weren't even members of the Youth Party. There was something wrong here, definitely something wrong! The other young man sitting next to him didn't seem to notice anything amiss, and even had an excited smile on his face. "It doesn't matter if they're our people or not. I admire their courage and determination. We should recruit them into the organization!"

He said, sounding somewhat eager, "We can't let others get the limelight in this kind of thing. We should also step up. This is a great opportunity for people to get to know us!"

Nagaril Youth Party is not very well-known, and the short young men believe that now is not the best time. They think it's best not to be too arrogant before they have some "real stuff" in their hands.

This will attract the attention of local officials, religious groups, and the Third Ruling Class. They also destroyed two temples, and now some guardians are investigating them.

So he didn't agree immediately, but was thinking and weighing the options. It was during this process that he saw those people climb over the courtyard wall and open the gate from the inside. People rushed into the courtyard like a tide, led by a few people. The thugs who were responsible for driving people away were also scattered and submerged by the crowd.

His companion jumped down from the tree, landed, grinned, and looked up at him. "Let's go too! It's time for people to know who we are!"

The short young leader hesitated for a moment, but as he watched the others rush into the house, he heard his companions say, "If we don't go now, it will be too late." He gritted his teeth and jumped down from the tree.

In fact, it wasn't just his cadre; everyone else was looking at him with excitement, a desire to do great things. But they didn't realize that the Youth Party wasn't strong enough yet, and that rashly taking on responsibilities that weren't theirs would hurt them.

Looking at his companions, the young man changed his tune slightly, "Our battlefield isn't here. Remember what I told you before? What we want is their industry, their wealth, not to kill them to vent our anger!"

"Killing them is easy, but their property will be confiscated by the government. You should know very well what kind of people they are. I demand that you immediately split up and go to other places to help those people make decisions before the situation escalates further!"

He looked at everyone around him and said, "I have a feeling this is going to blow up. Maybe you're right. Let's get started!"

Some major trends are irresistible. In fact, he is also confused now. He can feel a trend moving rapidly, and he can even feel that some people are "helping" them, but this feeling is not good.

As for what was wrong with it, he didn't know. The only thing he could do now was to speed up the plan. Their original plan was to have the foreign merchants who were preparing to flee die on their way out of Nagaril, so that their children, or their local families in Nagaril, could inherit their wealth.

This includes everything that can be inherited, such as cash and assets. The wealth of these rich people must be passed on through inheritance in order to better return to people's hands.

Otherwise, the government will find various reasons to confiscate the property and then evict the people living there, which they often do.

This was supposed to be something that wouldn't take too long, but it wouldn't happen right now either; it would require some planning, but there's no time for that now.

More and more people are pouring in from all directions, and some have already begun rushing into the neighboring yard. The police, who always arrive on time, have yet to show up. All of this indicates that a storm is brewing! Meanwhile, Simon has almost finished packing up and is just waiting for someone to take over his business so he can leave immediately, has also learned of this news through various channels.

He immediately ordered the butler to close all the doors, then took his hunting rifle and sat in the study with the fewest windows.

He was a little nervous. A friend of his had just been on the phone with him in a panic, saying that the locals had gone mad and were frantically attacking his house. The noise made it hard for him to hear what the other person was saying. Then, after a dull sound like a bone breaking, everything went quiet.

But soon, a Common Language with a local accent came through the phone—"You're next, sir!"

Simon was horrified. After the phone call ended, he ran to the edge of the yard and looked outside. There were already some locals on the street who didn't belong there.

It must be mentioned here that foreigners all have their own neighborhoods and communities. The foreigner neighborhoods and communities in each city of Nagaril are very bustling and lively places, but there are not many Nagaril People in these places.

The high cost of living here makes it ineligible for ordinary Nagaril People to even be present. The police also help the wealthy prevent those who might come in to beg or steal from entering the community.

When people simply look at the environment within the community, they sometimes don't realize that this is Nagaril and feel as if they are in their own country.

Everything was so beautiful and peaceful, there was no foul smell, and no ragged Nagaril People could be seen.

But now, there are already some outside, and it seems there are more and more of them.

Simon cursed the police officers who were supposed to be whipping and driving away the locals to keep them out, for failing to do their job properly, and abandoned his idea of leaving immediately.

He doesn't yet have the courage to hurt others before others hurt him. He's still a law-abiding citizen, so he suspects he'll be stopped if he drives. Staying home is the best option for him now.

He picked up his hunting rifle and sat in the study, examining everything about the rifle, including the bullets, with a sense of unfamiliarity.

Any noise around him could startle him.

He glanced out the window; there seemed to be some unusual noises outside. He picked up the phone, intending to dial the Police Station number again, but this time, there was no busy signal, no sound at all.

The telephone line was cut? He was terrified and even more nervous. He called out the butler's name loudly, and soon the study door opened.

"Master..."

"I'm a little thirsty. Also, send someone to check why our phone line is down. And are there many people on the street outside?" He wiped the sweat from his temples. "I find it a bit noisy; it wasn't like this before."