Jonas's words had etched themselves into Noel's mind. Even without deliberately recalling them, she kept remembering them and could not help unconsciously repeating them.
In Noel's bedroom, the points of light representing Federation camps flickered constantly. Some went gray outright, while others lit up again, indicating newly occupied camps.
"How can I make it turn out like last time?"
Use that same tactic again?
That wouldn't really work.
For Noel, mobilizing Psionics was now rather difficult-or at least, it was difficult for her. News of her defeat on the battlefield had spread, and Dorothy was now the only one who trusted her. The other families were unwilling to entrust their high-caliber Psionics to her again.
Even if Dorothy committed all the Misen Family's Psionics to the battlefield, it would not be enough to destroy the Federation's core forces in one blow. They would have to stake everything at once.
"We need bait, but it has to be something the Federation is interested in enough. And we have to get those families Dorothy has already scared out of their wits to contribute enough Psionics."
Noel pondered quietly. Precisely because she was from the Federation, she understood the character of those upper-echelon families. Even after Dorothy had scared them out of their wits, they would conserve whatever they could-or, to put it another way, preserve some of their so-called military strength for their own families.
It was completely different on Jonas's side.
Over there, Jonas's word was practically law.
"District 25 will definitely have to provide the bait, and it has to tempt the Federation into committing enough Psionics and Fourth-Generation Tactical Mecha."
Just as Noel was agonizing over this, a message suddenly arrived on her communicator.
It was a call from Dorothy.
"Dorothy, what's wrong?"
"Noel, something isn't right. The technical