At X113 Branch, the atmosphere in the commander's office was as heavy as the sea before a storm. The windows were tightly shut, yet the subdued clamor drifting from the harbor outside could still faintly be heard, different from the usual noise-the invisible pressure brought by the Dark Bird Battleship, and the confusion and unease permeating the branch.
Liu Bei sat upright in the guest chair, a long-cold cup of tea beside him, his expression as calm as still water. Commodore Bastille, meanwhile, paced anxiously behind his desk like a caged beast, the tension in his muscles making the scars on his face look even more savage. The document laying out the negotiating terms lay open on the desk. Hua Country's terms were remarkably generous: those who submitted would retain their ranks and benefits, and their families could be brought over and settled; those unwilling to stay would receive travel money and be courteously escorted out of the country; the branch base's functions would remain unchanged for the time being, with reorganization proceeding gradually.
The terms were good-unbelievably good, and that only weighed more heavily on Bastille's heart. He abruptly stopped pacing, planted both hands on the desk, and fixed Liu Bei with a burning stare.
"Pacification Commissioner! You make it sound wonderful! But how can I trust you? How can I trust that ruler far away in Chang'an? If I lead my men in surrender, how can you guarantee that Mary Geoise won't brand us traitors and send an army to wipe us out? Wouldn't we be fish on a chopping board then, at their mercy?!" His voice was hoarse, filled with the despair and doubt of a man driven into a corner. "And there are thousands of people in this branch! How can their futures and their lives