Gilan saw things very clearly.
Once he realized that no one in the mortal world could restrain his strength, he pushed that advantage to its limit.
By threatening and intimidating the Federation's ruling class and conglomerates, while launching relentless attacks on its key facilities, he kept Ovena running itself ragged until it was finally dragged down.
Though such methods were hardly honorable, they were extremely effective. Gilan could not be bothered with schemes; if he could act, he would never waste breath.
After all, when he had been weak, he had witnessed the Federation's bombardment of the Empire's border. The friends he had just made had suffered because of it. He had long wanted to answer tooth for tooth and violence with violence.
Now, the time had simply come.
"...All military districts, armories, and major meeting venues in Jacobin have been sealed off. The public's travel rate has dropped sharply, and panic is widespread."
"Across the Federation, demonstrations, strikes, and unrest are breaking out everywhere. Criminal cases are increasing by the day, while the number of military deployments to suppress disturbances has risen severalfold compared to three months ago."
"On the two major frontlines, Ovena has drastically contracted its defensive lines and begun avoiding battle. Morale is low."
"..."
Dressed in a black wool overcoat, a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of dark red round sunglasses, Gilan lounged beneath a parasol outside a café.
He sipped hot coffee while flipping through the intelligence dossier in his hand.
The intelligence in this dossier had all come from the "secret committee members" planted throughout the Federation by the Mystery Investigation Committee.
Gilan's gaze swept across the dossier from behind his sunglasses, and the corners of his lips unconsciously curled upward.
Clearly, he was in quite a good mood.
"Mm..." Gilan raised his