The major gave a bleak smile, puffed out his cheeks, and bit down hard on his molars. A faint bitter almond scent immediately wafted from inside his mouth. Instantly, his body convulsed violently like a person in the throes of neurosis, and thick, white, sticky foam oozed from the gaps between his tightly clenched teeth. In just a few seconds, his breathing was completely cut off at the mouth and nose, and the bloodshot eyes lost the light of life.

Isaac Carter calmly gazed at the dead major and slowly released his grip from the man's shoulder and neck.

At S12, he had heard many accounts about cyanide from veteran soldiers. Many assassins would install this deadly compound inside their molars. For torture or interrogations where the truth could not be revealed, death... was indeed a decent escape.

“Rather die than speak... In fact, the dead can't keep secrets either.”

A trace of ferocity flashed across Isaac Carter's lips. He picked up the combat knife, gripped the major's right hand, and forcefully sliced off the fingernails from the index and middle fingers, carefully placing them into his own inner pocket.

Very few people could slip through the supervision of the Earth Federation Census Bureau. Whether for internal control or external defense, the Federation required detailed population data. Clearly, the anti-Federation Pan-Union Army was unlikely to be involved in this matter. Although Isaac Carter currently lacked the authority to access the Census Bureau's records, that didn't mean there wouldn't be such opportunities in the future.

……

The main building of the Earth Federation Army Headquarters was a gray structure over thirty meters tall, covering more than six million square meters. Viewed from above, its shape resembled an ancient European bastion, yet it also clearly displayed traces of Eastern-style tiered eaves, and even had colonnades reminiscent of ancient Greek temples... In short, there was no dominant architectural style, but it incorporated details from various ancient civilizations. Complex and chaotic, it felt as if countless arrogant architects, unable to accept their peers, each occupied a corner of the building, racking their brains to pile up their favorite and most esteemed structures in their respective spots. In the end, these bricks and concrete, extending from countless corners and converging at the center, were forcibly kneaded together in a way that utterly defied aesthetics, resulting in this bizarre outlier that no one was satisfied with, yet no one could object to.

This, to a large extent, reflected the current state of the Earth Federation—each member region, evolved from former nations, wanted to dominate the alliance. Yet, there were always opposing voices. Endless bickering, ceaseless arguments, overt and covert checks and balances... Though the nation-state had disappeared, “regions” or “families” had become the biggest sources of internal conflict within the Federation. If one had to find a symbolic sign of human social progress amid this strange chaos... perhaps it would be the currency recognized by most people, with a pale green hue, blending the classic features of both the old US dollar and the RMB, known as the “Federation Yuan.”

A series of forceful, metallic footsteps echoed from the far end of the eastern corridor of the United Army Headquarters building. The pace was quick, clearly faster than a normal walk. Sunlight slanted through the windows, casting segmented beams of light on the floor, and as the sound of footsteps drew nearer, the approaching figure cast a long, swiftly moving shadow.

Gerald had never been this angry before. Flames burned in his eyes, and this barely contained rage made his already massive body swell even more beneath his specially tailored, extra-large uniform. Muscles brimming with explosive power bulged against the high-elasticity fabric, forming intimidating contours. Thick veins crawled across his slightly forward-leaning neck, pulsing with each heavy breath from his mouth and nose. Coupled with his height of over 2.2 meters and his tousled, tawny curls... he seemed like a furious, terrifying lion searching for something to unleash his wrath upon.

There were many civil servants working at Federation Army Headquarters; even during normal shifts, nearly twenty thousand staff remained in the building. It was now 11:26 a.m.—secretaries submitting documents, guards responsible for security, staff officers hurrying between rooms, and others in civilian clothes who were actually special members of certain departments... Many people saw Gerald, and all chose either to quickly duck into rooms to avoid him or to swiftly press themselves into alcoves by the walls and doors, keeping silent. Gerald's ferocious face and the prominent major general insignia on his shoulder were silently watched by countless eyes. His rank, arrogance, and mountain-like stature meant that those who couldn't get out of the way in time could only press their backs to the wall, puff out their chests, suck in their stomachs, and hold their breath, making way for him.

“Bang—”

He strode up to the door marked “Third Staff Planning Office” and, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, kicked it open with a violent motion.

This was Oscar Green and Hamilton Major General's office.