Munitions Empire

```

"Understood! I will arrange it right away. I personally..." The middle-aged man bowed his head firmly, as if he did not plan to return unless the task was accomplished.

Seeing the posture of his subordinate, the old man immediately scolded, "Idiot! Let Qiumuluo, that pawn, handle this! Besides revenge, there is nothing left in his mind anyway!"

"Understood!" The middle-aged man was taken aback and then bowed deeply with gratitude to agree.

The old man took a deep breath, seemingly calming his emotions.

Then, he continued with further instructions, "Also, for the choice of weapons, select from those of the Great Tang Group! Let them doubt themselves when the time comes...heh heh...hehe...hahaha!"

"Brilliant! Your method is truly... brilliant!" The middle-aged man offered a rather obvious flattery.

Then, their whispers echoed in the small secret chamber, with the fire from the torches flickering, casting two grotesquely distorted shadows on the wall.

...

At Brunas's passenger port, the entry and exit checkpoint for the Brunas region, a civil service employee was idly sitting behind a window.

She wore light lipstick, donned a uniform, and lethargically flipped through the record book, checking each tongue-twisting name.

"Your documents!" Another new traveler stood in front of the window, and the female employee drawled perfunctorily.

"..." The other party respectfully took out a small book from their pocket and handed it to the female employee on the other side of the iron bars.

The female employee opened the booklet, looked at the black and white photo inside, then at the middle-aged man across the iron bars and lazily verified, "So you are Franklin?"

This type of booklet was unique to Brunas as an identity proof for its citizens. Previous booklets contained only names, but the latest generation of ID documents included two-inch photos and anti-counterfeit steel stamps, making them highly advanced and difficult to forge.

Truthfully, finding a camera outside Brunas these days is not an easy task.

These gadgets are now considered state gifts, all registered by the Great Tang Group before being distributed. Each can be traced back to its origin, so using this kind of item for forgery clearly involves a great risk.

With the incorporation of photographs, the credibility of the documents significantly increased, which is another reason spies and stowaways found it difficult to infiltrate Brunas.

The middle-aged man was noticeably nervous and uneasily replied, "Yes, that's right, your honor..."

"Identification number 5170304172156... Did you arrive in Brunas last April?" After checking the code, the immigration officer continued her indifferent inquiry.

No one could read any joy or other emotion on her face. She was like a cold machine, instinctively causing the person in front of her to feel restrained.

"Yes, your honor," the man across the iron bars answered, nervously clenching the cap pressed against his chest, swallowing nervously while responding to the woman's question.

"No need to be so tense..." the woman, checking the anti-forgery watermark on the document without lifting her head, soothed him.

"Yes, your honor," the middle-aged man immediately responded, as though reluctant to admit his own nervousness.

The woman looked up, staring into the man's eyes, "Your reason for traveling to Dragon Island?"

"Job transfer, your honor. I am a fitter..." The man seemed confident in his skills, unconsciously straightening up while discussing his profession.

"Is it a permanent transfer?" the woman asked, closing the identity proof and handing it back to him.

"Yes, that's right. Here are my referral letter and work verification, my skill certification, and related medical health..." The man looked down, seemingly really wanting to rummage through those trivial items.

"That's enough! No need to look for them! I wish you all the best," the woman impatiently signaled that he could pass.

The man immediately expressed his gratitude, shoving a stack of documents back into his pocket and securing his ID as well, then he nodded and bowed towards the direction of the docks.

There, a ship was docked by the shore, a vessel heading to Dragon Island, a brand new... sailboat.

"Next!" The woman called out impatiently and then mechanically went through the routine, "Your documents!"

"..." A man in a respectable suit stepped forward with a smile, handing over an identification document.

```

The woman took the ID, skillfully flipped it open, and looked at its holder: "Your name is Adams?"

"Yes, my lord," the man smiled slightly, displaying his visage, perfectly matching the photo.

The woman glanced at the man's face, then looked back at the photo in the ID, casually remarking, "5170301021913... You've been here quite some time."

"You're right, my lord," the man continued to smile warmly, nodding in agreement.

The woman fell silent for a few seconds before seeming to remember she was still on duty and continued to inquire, "So, what about you, sir? Why are you going to Dragon Island?"

"I am going there for work, my lord. I am a salt merchant..." the tall, thin man politely replied.

"A merchant?" The woman was taken aback, then nodded slightly, but did not return the ID.

The tall, thin man's smile gradually became unnatural, and he asked somewhat worriedly, "Is there a problem, my lord?"

"Hmm, no problem. It's just... some people are very interested in your other identity." The woman behind the window released the button she had been pressing with her foot and shifted her gaze to a few uniformed men pushing through the crowd toward the front.

The businessman bound for Dragon Island was still puzzling out the situation and hadn't noticed the approaching police behind him. He mustered a strained smile and asked uneasily, "Your... meaning... I don't understand, my lord."

"No worries, no worries, you'll understand once you're there..." The woman smiled, closed the ID in her hand, and placed it on the desk.

At the same time, the man in front of the iron railings sensed the commotion behind him. He suddenly turned around to see the police who had parted the crowd, already within arm's reach.

With a sudden move, he flung his suitcase at the oncoming police and forcefully tried to break into the crowd to escape.

But before he could swing the suitcase, the charging policemen had already seized the more advantageous position. One officer bore the brunt of the suitcase, filled with clothes, while another swiftly tackled the tall, thin man from the side.

"Why are you arresting me! Why are you detaining me! I haven't done anything! I'm innocent!" The man pinned to the ground struggled fiercely and screamed madly.

Realizing he had no better recourse, the man started to curse loudly: "It's a cover-up! They're silencing me! They captured me because I sell cheap salt! I'm innocent! They forced me to raise prices and I refused; they are lapdogs of the Great Tang Group! They..."

Soon, a piece of rag was stuffed into the man's mouth, and he was clumsily dragged away by the officers.

Meanwhile, a group of travelers ready to head to Dragon Island watched everything unfold with cold indifference, calmly resumed their line, and proceeded one by one towards the checkpoint.

As if they hadn't seen a person being dragged away at all.

There was no use; framing the Great Tang Group in Brunas simply lacked traction. Among those queuing here, who wasn't a beneficiary of the Great Tang Group's ascendancy? Expecting them to believe Tang Mo was an infamous scoundrel was sheer folly.

...

In Tang Mo's office on Dragon Island, Li'ao handed him a list from Shireck: "This is the list of undercover agents from inside Shireck this month, complete with their detailed profiles."

Ever since the collaboration with Sofia began, capturing Shireck's spies had become a much easier task.

At the least, the lower-tier spies collectively dispatched by the Shireck Consortium were all on this real-time list.

"Sofia herself couldn't get the entire list, as the various board members have their secrets and guard against one another, placing their trusted people. They are unaware of this part of the list," Li'ao continued as Tang Mo perused the list.

"However, because our support greatly helps her, she gets access to more detailed intelligence," Li'ao didn't wait for Tang Mo's response and kept on with the report: "Our own sources, verified against hers, are highly accurate."

He then briefly mentioned Shireck's recent armament developments: "Shireck has been building some Ming Wheel Ships lately. These ships are equipped with larger caliber guns and are a new breech-loading design, armored for protection, quite dangerous."

"However, since they are Ming Wheel Ships, they don't pose a significant threat to us. Their speed is too low, their propulsion systems too vulnerable, their sighting systems outdated..." his tone became more relaxed as he spoke.

In comparison to propeller-driven ships, Ming Wheel Ships were far behind. These steamships would soon become obsolete. No matter how much Shireck treasured them now, they would only be the butt of a joke later on.

"Don't be complacent," Tang Mo cautioned while reviewing the names and undercover profiles, reminding his subordinate.

"Yes, Master! The work of rooting out spies is ongoing, and not just relying on intelligence from Sofia; we also have our own system for tracking and verification," Li'ao immediately adjusted his demeanor and bowed as he spoke. Enjoy new tales from empire

"That's good, not relying on others is a fine habit," Tang Mo closed the list and handed it back to Li'ao: "Verify thoroughly! Don't just take Sofia's word for it! Don't wrongly accuse an innocent person."