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For caution's sake, if they were to head to the "White City" of Flevance, they needed to make thorough preparations.
The first and most important thing was to find an excuse for going there.
Yahn had remained stationed in the North Blue for six years, rarely straying beyond the waters around the 521st Marine Base. To avoid arousing suspicion from the World Government, he needed a plausible reason.
Soon, under Yahn's careful arrangement, a Marine from a base near Flevance "happened" to desert, sneaking onto a merchant vessel bound for the small town near the 521st Base.
After a weary journey, the Marine—clothes ragged and body covered in grime—collapsed before the 521st Base's gates, crying out desperately:
"Lord Inspector, please avenge me! I formally accuse the commander of the 741st Marine Base!"
News of this quickly reached Yahn. As North Blue Inspector, he questioned the soldier before the crowd.
"Speak," Yahn commanded.
"Milord, I was but a humble private of the 741st Base. I had a modest post, a home, farmland, and a virtuous wife. But the base commander… he was merciless—he seized my house and stole my wife!"
With both Marines and civilians as witnesses, the soldier wept bitterly, recounting his misfortunes and the countless abuses of the 741st Base's commander.
Naturally, this incensed Yahn. Known for protecting the people and upholding justice, he declared furiously:
"Prepare a warship! I will personally investigate the 741st Marine Base."
The announcement sent the watching civilians into a chorus of cheers, their admiration for Yahn growing ever stronger.
But when he turned away from the crowd, Yahn's expression darkened. He muttered to a nearby Marine lieutenant—also a Revolutionary Army comrade.
"Whose idea was that ridiculous speech?"
The lieutenant shifted awkwardly and lowered his head.
"Lord Yahn… I adapted it from one of the folk songs I've heard you sing."
…
Yahn nearly choked. After a moment, he scolded with embarrassment:
"Idiot. Adapting is not the same as fabricating. Those are completely different things."
"Yes, sir. I won't dare again," the lieutenant stammered.
"Go, make the preparations for departure. And remember—this time, only use our own comrades for the crew."
"Understood," the lieutenant replied.
Thanks to days of prior arrangements, the 521st Base completed its sailing preparations at remarkable speed.
"Lord Yahn, come back safely!"
"Take care on the journey!"
"Big Brother Yahn, here—this candy's for you!"
As the crowd of citizens called out their farewells, Yahn's warship set out toward the "White City" of Flevance.
Even before the voyage began, the budding Revolutionary Army had already thrown its full effort into gathering intelligence on every aspect of Flevance.
Soon, a large map of the region—centered on Flevance—was pinned up inside Yahn's cabin.
"This is even more troublesome than I thought…" Yahn muttered, frowning at the map.
Flevance occupied a large island, but it wasn't the only kingdom there. Three other nations shared borders with it. On its seaward side stood the 741st Marine Base, guarding the coast.
In ordinary times, this meant Flevance was well-protected from pirates.
But with the World Government now baring its fangs, those same neighboring nations and the 741st Base formed a prison, sealing Flevance in a deadly cage.
"A caged bird," Yahn said grimly. "To save it from the World Government, we must create the illusion that outside forces never intervened. We must trick them into believing the bird has already died within its cage."
He glanced at Robin.
"With your ability, you can control enemies and make this feasible—but there are still many obstacles."
"What kind of obstacles?" Robin asked.
"The hardest part," Yahn explained, "is transporting and resettling Flevance's citizens. We can't use Little Gold. If even one person is traced back afterward, my identity will be exposed.
We need a practical plan to move and shelter them. Otherwise, leaving the bird in the cage is still certain death."
He began studying the intelligence on Flevance's neighboring states, weighing possible options.
The task was daunting: four nations, the World Government's involvement, and an ever-growing flood of reports from Revolutionary Army agents. The sheer volume of information nearly overwhelmed him, leaving little time even for nightly cultivation.
Fortunately, Robin was there. A prodigy who had become a true archaeologist at only eight years old, she tirelessly helped Yahn sift and organize the data. Together, they finally uncovered a potential solution.
In the northern kingdom of Forsena, there was an uninhabited forest region large enough to conceal tens of thousands of people for a time.
More importantly, the kingdom's system granted its border general immense autonomy. With his cooperation, the evacuation could be hidden almost completely.
Once Yahn decided on this plan, the Revolutionary comrades near Flevance sprang into action. They began preparing transport routes, stockpiling supplies, and seeking to either win over or covertly control that border general.
"Let's hope the World Government grants us a little more time…" Yahn sighed, tossing aside the last report. He raised a hand to massage his temples, only to feel a pair of soft, warm hands press gently against them.
Perhaps Little Gold's technique was more skilled, but the delicate fingers of a young girl were incomparable—like the brush of canary wings.
Yahn closed his eyes slightly, relaxing under the touch, and murmured with quiet gratitude:
"Robin, you're amazing…"
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