First Light of a New Age

Chapter 182: The Great Krarga

Let's keep the massive power scaling and overpowered BS for now and go back to the good ol’ Street-Level Fights, shall we?

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Third Civilization Zone, Austronesia People's Empire, Imperial Majahapit, Surabaya City.

4th Year of the New Age, Thursday, 1st Week, 10th Month of The Father.

The lights of Surabaya never really sleep. Even after the Empire’s reconstruction from the New Year Tragedy since their first arrival in the New World, the whole city still felt like a beating artery.

Down on the streets, life went on as usual with markets opened before dawn, trains disgorged tired workers, and law enforcement on patrol, all part of the great machinery that kept the Empire alive.

And somewhere in that machinery are people whose job it is to make sure it never broke.

The Golden Rafflesia Casino sits on one of those arteries and calls itself a cathedral of vice. Its façade glitters like a slice of sunrise with columns of glass, gold filigree, and a pair of enormous doors that look meant for kings. 

Inside the ceiling were a constellation of chandeliers that threw sharp reflections across lacquered tables. Perfume and cigarette smoke mix together with the sweet smell of spilled liquor while somewhere a piano plays a lazy jazz line while people are speaking carefully among themselves.

The crowd was a mix of bureaucrats, corporate figures, and military men pretending to be harmless.

Chloe Mangahoc looked stunning in a deep crimson gown along with her shiny sunglasses and rainbow-dyed hair pinning high so the colors flash when she turns, and a silver Imperial brooch pinned near her chest, enough to make any man feel tempted to gawk at her. 

Beside her was her partner, Officer Rafael Villanueva solidly built like a soldier who learned manners in parliament with a suit that could pass for a corporate executive if you didn’t look at the way his jaw tenses when something smells like trouble.

The two were currently disguised as affluent socialites, but their real role was tracking down traitors and rebel cells within the city, tracking money, following favors and favors-for-favors through the rooms. 

Tonight’s list includes city officials and a couple of senators suspected of secretly supporting and funding one of these organizations, and one big name, energy magnate Esteban Cruz, whose ledger keeps a suspicious number of anonymous transfers.

As they crossed the gaming floor with the patience of people who can wait and watch, Villanueva leaned in and his words barely moved his lips as he whispered to his female partner.

“Intel confirmed that the target is in the VIP room, including several city officials and certain senators, plus that energy magnate, Esteban Cruz. All on our list.”

Chloe didn’t look at him as her eyes moved casually across the room like a surveillance sweep, catching reflections in glass, the tilt of shoulders, and the small betrayals a man makes when he thinks he’s unobserved.

“Any sign of suspicious activity?” she asks low enough to be mistaken for private conversation.

“Not directly, but Cruz’s name keeps coming up as he’s tied to the funds that backed last year’s violent ANTIIMP riots. He’s our link.”