"Welcome, Great General. I am Gordon, Commander of the Indhy Base. Please follow me—I'll give you a tour of the base."
Jack waved his hand impatiently.
"No need for the formal bullshit next time. I just came to see how the people of Indhy are doing. So—have the casualties hit three million yet?"
Gordon lowered his head in shame.
"I deeply apologize. We've been incompetent. Facing the Indhy Army, we are somewhat overwhelmed. At present, we've only managed to stir unrest in a few remote regions."
Jack frowned.
"So how many deaths so far?"
Gordon lowered his head again.
"The chaos we caused has resulted in… only twenty thousand casualties."
Jack let out a long sigh.
"You should be ashamed. What about our losses?"
"Twenty-two accidental deaths and three mission-related fatalities," Gordon replied carefully.
Jack nodded.
"That's cautious enough. Keep it up. Prolonged unrest is fine—given time, shit will rot on its own."
He paused, then asked, "How's the assassination plan going?"
This time, Gordon answered with confidence.
"Great General, I altered the assassination plan into an arrest-and-exploitation plan. They now perform fourteen hours of physical labor daily."
"Since you're here, you can personally decide whether these pieces of trash live or die."
"As for the women we detained, they've all undergone strict training. They're ready and can be deployed at any time."
"Also, none of the relevant beneficiaries escaped. Not a single one."
Jack looked at Gordon with new interest. Capturing everyone alive with only three deaths was no small achievement.
"Well done," Jack said. "Take me to see what kind of labor they're doing."
Holding a jasmine flower in his hand, Jack followed Gordon forward.
"Great General, we've arrived."
Jack soon saw more than a hundred men constructing crude housing under armed guard.
"Not bad," Jack said. "Now take me to see the women."
Gordon chuckled and eagerly led Jack toward a facility he had specially prepared.
The next half month became Jack's personal brainwashing marathon.
During this time, Jack successfully reprogrammed seventy-five sinful beneficiaries into loyal servants.
[Thousand Gullies and Ravines: 238/1000]
Jack's brainwashing method was brutally simple—endless repetition of input and output until their minds weakened.
Once their resistance collapsed, he applied the mental manipulation technique he had comprehended from the Mental Barrier.
A small amount of neural stimulation, followed by command injection, was enough to complete the process.
Within those fifteen days, Jack "saw blood" five times a day. The strain nearly made him anemic.
Meanwhile, Gordon's operations in Indhy became noticeably more aggressive, though they remained small-scale and hadn't yet escalated into open war.
When the fifteenth day ended, Jack finally lost patience.
"Find the largest military base in Indhy," he ordered. "Send me there."
"Great General," Gordon protested, "you don't need to do this personally. Give me more time—I can handle it."
Jack shook his head.
"I said I'll handle it. My hands are itching. I haven't killed anyone properly in a while."
Soon, intelligence officers delivered detailed information on nearby Indhy military bases.
"Great General," an intelligence officer reported, "these bases are heavily defended. They're also covered by U.S. military missile systems. A direct assault would be difficult."
Jack studied the map briefly, then made his decision.
"This one," he said. "You people stay hidden and provide perimeter support."
Right in front of them, Jack casually pulled out a Jericho missile that looked like it had been collecting dust.
Gordon and the soldier froze, their brains completely short-circuiting.
"Great General…" Gordon muttered, touching the missile. "Are you a magician?"
Jack's face darkened.
"Don't ask questions that'll get your cock cut off. Perform well, and maybe you'll learn tricks like this someday."
Both men were instantly fired up. If they could do even a fraction of this, logistics alone would become a gold mine.
Jack pointed at a base on the map.
"Get someone to fly me there. Prepare support from the outskirts."
Gordon stared at him in disbelief.
"Great General… you're going alone?"
Jack put away his tablet and smiled coldly.
"It's time you see what real power looks like. I've been bored for too long."
Gordon had never witnessed Jack's true strength, but he knew one thing—Chief Sebas and Officer Puri-Puri Prisoner were basically immune to guns and artillery.
And Jack was far worse.
Through the aircraft window, Jack spotted the distant military base.
"Open the hatch."
Before anyone could react, Jack jumped—no parachute, no equipment.
Gordon stood frozen, holding the unused parachute like an idiot.
Even as a seasoned HYDRA branch commander, he had no idea how to process what he'd just seen.
Back in the command room, Gordon launched more than a dozen drones to track Jack.
The cameras soon locked onto him.
Jack continued falling at high speed, angling directly toward the Indhy military base.
This was an Indhy-controlled base, not a U.S. installation. Attacking an American base would be stupid—it was their supply line.
Both sides usually just fired a few shots or shells for show, just enough to justify budget requests to Congress.
Recently, the U.S. Army's procurement prices had gone insane.
A $1 bullet became $2.
After "special customization" by HYDRA's Commissioner Smith—$5.
By the time it reached the battlefield—$10.
Then it would be logged into U.S. inventory… and quietly stolen back into HYDRA warehouses.
The bullet factory? Also HYDRA-owned.
A perfect closed loop.
Only Congress got fucked.
As Jack reached a certain altitude, he activated Telekinesis, halting his fall two meters above the ground.
The HYDRA personnel watching through the drones were utterly speechless.
Jack landed gently.
"Wayne," Gordon suddenly said, "come here. Let me slap you."
Wayne immediately backed away.
"Sir, I really don't think that's necessary."
Gordon's face went cold.
"Get over here—or I dock your salary for the month."
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