Novel Full Chapter 926 - 926: Implementation
The order was implemented as soon as Youssef relayed it to the relevant agencies. The wormholes were closed across the network, only allowing ships currently outside their home systems to return. After that, even those vessels would be denied access. But half an hour before the lockdown, the Empire sent out a civilization-wide announcement through the VR network.
The message clearly explained what was happening, why the punishment was issued, and what actions Kumakar needed to take to have the restrictions lifted. The Empire justified the thirty-minute grace period as a final opportunity for Kumakar to resolve the situation before irreversible damage was done to his civilization’s economy. But Kumakar took no steps toward reconciliation, and when the countdown reached zero, the Empire enforced the punishment.
What Kumakar did instead was turn the Empire’s own infrastructure against them.
Using the same VR communication channels the Empire had provided to each civilization’s government, for official announcements and direct citizen outreach, Kumakar broadcast a passionate message to his people: “The Empire is distorting the truth. Even when the truth is suppressed by tyrants, it will prevail. We must stand and defend it. Neither I nor our civilization will bow to those who seek to bury the truth, and we will fight to reveal it and ensure that those who hide behind deception are punished.”
He went on to label the Empire as a suppressive force, positioning them as the true aggressors in the unfolding crisis.
And it worked.
Kumakar’s citizens, who had yet to feel the consequences of the Empire’s order, immediately rallied behind their leader. With the restrictions not yet in effect, the outrage was still abstract and easily fueled by emotion. Cries of condemnation against the Empire flooded communication channels. Only a few, those capable of calmly analyzing the situation and foreseeing the devastating effects of the sanctions, refrained from joining in. These individuals quietly urged Kumakar to meet the Empire’s demands and defuse the crisis, but the overwhelming tide of support for defiance quickly drowned out their voices.
It’s often said that a crowd of smart individuals becomes foolish when riled up, and that controlling a large group requires only a handful of vocal agitators. Once a few loudly push for a specific course of action, others soon follow, not necessarily out of belief, but out of a need to be seen, to avoid being labeled weak or cowardly. Kumakar understood this well. And he exploited it expertly, using the Empire-provided VR communication channels to stir nationalistic fervor and solidify his image as a leader standing tall against oppression.
There were even public calls to boycott the Empire’s products. But notably, and somewhat ironically, no one mentioned the VR itself, despite the fact that their protests were being organized and broadcast through it. As for the other major imperial services within Kumakar’s civilization, they were limited to logistical delivery (which would naturally be cut off once the wormholes closed), VR connectivity devices, and mana stones.
Even the most vocal of Kumakar’s supporters didn’t dare suggest boycotting VR access or mana stones. VR has become deeply integrated into daily life, work, education, entertainment, and even political mobilization, all now depend on it. And the mana stones? Their importance couldn’t be overstated. All previous means of generating mana canisters had become outdated and were only being maintained through expensive government subsidies. Rebuilding those systems to match the current levels of mana consumption, now ten times higher thanks to the cheap, abundant imperial supply, was both economically unfeasible and logistically impossible in the short term.
In the end, their boycott amounted to little more than symbolic posturing. There was practically nothing they could truly cut off without severely harming themselves. But still, the calls persisted, because in their minds, it wasn’t about impact, it was about pride. They needed to show resistance, even if only in appearance.
The more rational members of Kumakar’s government quickly recognized the full weight of what he had done. A situation that could have been resolved with a superficial, non-apology apology had now been transformed into a matter of pride. By involving the general population and rallying them emotionally, Kumakar had turned what could have been solved fast before being dismissed or quietly suppressed into a national cause.
If he were to back down now, it wouldn’t just harm his personal reputation, but it would crush his prestige, erode his citizens’ pride in their civilization, and potentially plant the seeds of generational resentment. There was a real risk that future children would grow up with the will from their angry parents to correct this perceived national humiliation, possibly even targeting him as the one responsible for it.
Although Kumakar’s government was not a democracy and his approval ratings held no legal sway so long as he retained control over the military, the consequences of mass discontent couldn’t be ignored. Any policies he tried to implement would meet resistance from the very beginning, forcing him to rely on brute force to govern, an approach that would only further alienate the public and increase the chances of a future uprising. He had, in essence, escalated what could have been a quiet knife fight into an open battlefield of tanks. And that led many within his inner circle to question his true motivations. There had to be something deeper driving this, they thought. Kumakar was too rational, too calculating, to let pride alone guide such a self-damaging course.
When the timer finally hit zero and the Empire’s sanctions came into effect, the initial impact was subtle. Most daily necessities were still available in sufficient quantities, so the public didn’t feel the effects immediately. The most noticeable change was within the VR shopping experience. Until now, users could purchase items through the VR and not only receive physical deliveries in the real world but also enjoy virtual representations of their purchases instantly. With the new restrictions, real-world deliveries were now limited to vendors located within the same star system. For all shops based elsewhere, users could still enjoy their goods virtually, but the real-world delivery option had been suspended.
Customers with outstanding orders from other star systems were informed that their products would still arrive, as they were being brought back via the final permitted use of wormholes by returning ships. This temporary grace period helped dull the public’s initial outrage, but it was clear to those watching closely, this was just the beginning. The deeper effects, economic, social, and political, had yet to take root.
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“Your Excellency, this is going to harm us if it lasts even a single day. If it stretches beyond a week, the recovery will take a very long time,” said the Trade Minister-equivalent, his holographic figure flickering in front of Kumakar. The minister’s tone was grim, every word weighed down by the implications of the empire’s sanctions.
Kumakar stood inside his ship, still docked in the hangar of the Trade Hub, waiting for the rescheduled Conclave meeting to begin. Without looking directly at the hologram, he replied, “It won’t last that long.” A strange smile crossed his face, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t elaborate further, offering no explanation for his confidence.
They’re not planning their next move yet, they’re waiting. Watching how things unfold before choosing a side, he thought, his mind returning to the moment he saw the Conclave’s meeting postponed by five hours under the pretext of reviewing evidence and allowing each civilization leader time to reflect.
“Do your best to make sure the worst effects aren’t felt for at least three days,” Kumakar instructed. “If the situation persists beyond that, I’ll try another way.” With that, he ended the call without waiting for a reply, his decision final.
He turned toward the transparent wall of the Trade Hub, watching ships come and go against the backdrop of distant stars. “The more damage you try to cause me,” he muttered to himself, “the deeper the hole you’re digging for yourselves.”
Despite the potential for escalating tension and the worsening diplomatic rift between the Empire and the Conclave, Kumakar didn’t seem worried about his own safety. In his mind, harming him would turn a bad situation into something catastrophic, something he firmly believed the Empire wouldn’t dare risk.