Chapter 148

"Hahaha! Are those Europa's strategic air defense missiles? Then they are dead for sure! Hahaha..." Upon hearing this news, Sartori de' Medici suddenly went into a frenzy, seeming overwhelmingly delighted by the revelation.

However, before he could finish laughing, Nero Claudius kicked him flat onto the ground. "What are you laughing at? Do you have any idea what is happening in the capital right now? Because of your stupid joke, our Brussels has been plunged into a sea of flames." Seeing the current state of the capital, Nero Claudius was furious, yet she could not blame her younger brother Cole, who perhaps had been entirely unaware of the matter. Still, judging by the pilot's superb flying skills, they should be safe for the moment.

"What? Impossible! Is this retaliatory strikes from the United Kingdom? It must be, right?" Hearing this, Sartori de' Medici was completely dumbfounded.

"Hump! The missiles bombing our capital are our very own Europa missiles. Just look at the United Kingdom's pilot skills and you'll understand." With that, ignoring the ordinary soldiers present, Nero Claudius directly projected the live feed. In the footage, the aircraft piloted by the United Kingdom agent was executing hyper-sensitive maneuvers to dodge the high-speed missiles trailing behind it. Defying all convention, a civilian plane possessed no natural ability to perform such high-difficulty stunts. Yet this aircraft, while outwardly identical to the other planes assigned to transport the delegation, displayed the high-speed flight capabilities and stability of a fighter jet. Though the exact situation of those inside remained unclear, at the very least, the vast majority of Europa's anti-air missile reserves around Brussels had nearly been exhausted. Even if fuel reserves were in question, it was painfully obvious that the individuals from the United Kingdom had hastily modified the aircraft in a very short window of time.

"As a traitor to the country, you no longer have any right to live. Go to hell right now!" With those words, Nero Claudius drew her pistol on the spot and shot Sartori de' Medici dead. Yet, Sartori de' Medici held a position of considerable weight within the Holy See; despite this, Nero Claudius had executed him without a second thought. Conveniently, the attending guards and soldiers had all witnessed his crimes—crimes for which a death sentence might actually be considered merciful, and which, when taking his powerful family background into account, could potentially trigger severe repercussions for the entire Medici clan. Conversely, had he been handed over to the Europa Tribunal to face justice, the Medici family would undoubtedly have used every trick in the book to secure his acquittal.

"Hello? Is this the Europa Defense Bureau? Have you detected hostile forces invading Europa airspace and launched strategic air defense missiles?" Lacking the authority to issue direct commands, Nero Claudius had no choice but to utilize the Defense Bureau to regain control of the situation.

"Yes, what seems to be the matter?" The personnel at the Defense Bureau appeared completely unaware of the unfolding chaos.

"The missiles you are firing are targeting the delegation sent by the United Kingdom for this United Nations summit! Your actions have already plunged the capital into a sea of flames, cease fire immediately!" The Defense Bureau was not stationed in Brussels, but rather in Paris. "I am sending you the satellite imaging of the capital right now, make your decision immediately." As she spoke, Nero Claudius transmitted the imagery. Scarcely seconds after the transmission went through, panicked confusion erupted on the other end. Halting the ongoing bombardment would still take several minutes; while the anti-air missile reserves around Brussels were nearly depleted, today was Monday. Back in the capital, the President should surely be at work by now. Under a barrage of this scale, could the President possibly survive?

Brussels...

"Ah, this is perhaps the most shocking spectacle this old man has witnessed in twenty years. Never did I imagine that events from twenty years ago would replay themselves in this moment." In Brussels, at the intersection of the commercial and administrative districts—also the boundary between the old and new cities—mounted police had completely cordoned off the area. Yet amidst the lockdown, an elderly man flanked by a contingent of men in black stepped into the restricted zone.

"Mr. President, please do not advance any further. Ahead is the bombardment zone." It seemed almost inconceivable that this frail-looking man, well past seventy years of age, was the nation's President.

"It is fine. This old man has already lived past seventy; my years are already a bonus. But what about the others? Are there any survivors left?" High above the old city, an aircraft streaked across the sky at breakneck speed, pursued by a swarm of anti-air missiles launched by Europa.

The elderly man gazed up at the plane and the missiles trailing it, turning to question the man in black beside him. "The Defense Bureau claims that is the plane of the United Kingdom delegation, though for reasons unknown, it was locked onto by our own anti-air missiles. Judging by their movements, however, our missiles pose no genuine threat to them. As for survivors, it appears there are truly none left within this sector."

"How bizarre. That is clearly a Europa aircraft—how on earth are they managing to pilot it like that? Could it be that they genuinely count an ace pilot among their ranks?" The President was, naturally, aware of the summit. With his failing eyesight, he could barely make out the color of the plane.

"I never would have imagined that one day we would be bombed into such a wretched state by our own Europa missiles. Yet even after such a catastrophe, we must still offer formal apologies to the others. Issue the order to the Defense Bureau: shut down our nation's defense system immediately. Innocent lives must not be made to suffer any further. Once this ordeal is over, let everyone connected to this incident face punishment."

How should one put it? The President had escaped death purely due to his advanced age. Having just returned from the municipal administrative hospital where he was undergoing routine check-ups, he had abruptly canceled his examinations the moment word of this extraordinary crisis reached him. By the time he arrived here, the landscape before his eyes had already been reduced to a horrific, unrecognizable ruin.

"Reports from Nero Claudius's end indicate that this entire incident was orchestrated by Sartori de' Medici, who has already been executed by firing squad." At that moment, another man in black at the President's side stepped forward to deliver the latest update.

"Sartori de' Medici? If he is behind this, then it seems I, too, must resign in disgrace!" The reigning President of Europa was himself a member of the Medici family; if the clan was implicated in this affair, he bore inescapable culpability.

"Mr. President, a message has arrived from Bismarck of Germania. The Vice President of Germania sustained minor injuries, but managed to escape safely."

"Mr. President, Francia has also issued a bulletin. The Vice President of Francia was at the Presidential Palace when the incident occurred, and is believed to have perished."

Just then, two more men in black hurried over, reporting these two breaking developments in succession.

"Is that so? It appears this year is hardly favorable for us in Europa. Let us leave, let us depart from here." Confronted by such devastation, the President had no desire to linger any longer.

"Where shall we return, Mr. President?" the attendant in black instinctively inquired.

"Back to our cathedral, my dear children."