"Commander, the system just gave us a new mission." Layla said.
Mission? I thought I was free to do whatever I wanted?
"There's no such thing as free, you should practice using your brain, comrade commander. We didn't invest a lot of resources in you for nothing!!!!!" Layla replied in a sarcastic tone.
"Wait, the system can issue missions, I thought you were the one working directly with me? Why are you only saying this now?"
Layla looked away, scratching her cheek. "Ah... that... you know, sometimes I'm so busy managing the commander's work that... I forget a little... Besides, I'm just the messenger...."
I glared. "FORGET? You forgot about a mission system!!!!!
"Um... actually, the mission system isn't managed by me." Layla smiled wryly. "It's the artificial intelligence supercomputer that automatically assigns tasks based on your situation and the timeline you're thrown into. I can't control it either!"
I rubbed my forehead. "So tell me how this system works?"
Layla rolled up her sleeves, her face full of confidence as if she was about to explain some profound truth. "Okay, listen carefully. Occasionally, the system will throw out random tasks based on the actual situation to push you to achieve the goals that the supreme soviets want. If you do well, you will be rewarded. If you do poorly…"
She paused, shrugging.
I crossed my arms. "What?"
"The system will deduct your trust points."
I frowned. "Trust points? What the hell is that?"
"Think of it like loyalty in a game." Layla explained. "If this point drops to zero then…"
I swallowed. "Then what?"
Layla smiled nonchalantly. "Then the system will abandon you."
I was stunned. "You mean… it will throw me out on the street like an old doormat?"
Layla nodded firmly. "Exactly."
I held my head in despair. "I thought the system was there to support me!"
Layla patted my shoulder. "It supports you… as long as you don't turn into a useless person."
I sighed. "Great. So what's my first mission?"
Layla turned on the screen of the tablet she was holding, her voice filled with excitement. "Mission: Expand the territory to the sea! We need to turn the coastal area of Basrah into a developed settlement."
I muttered. "So from a domineering transmigrator, I'm now a construction engineer…"
Layla laughed. "Commander, do you want to do the mission now, or should I take note that you want to experience the feeling of being thrown out onto the street by the system?"
I glared at Layla, feeling like my brain was about to explode. "You guys are crazy! Do you know how many kilometers it is from Baghdad to Basra? How could I build it in time?!"
"Not to mention where the population comes from! Each summoning can only be 10,000 people a week! I'm not a wizard to make an entire city disappear in three months?!"
Layla coughed a few times, acting extremely calm as if I wasn't screaming right in front of her. "Commander, calm down. Everything has a solution. Have you heard the saying 'little by little makes a big'?"
I shouted: "STORE A SMALL MONEY, YOUR HEAD! STORE UP ENOUGH MONEY FOR THE PEOPLE WITHIN 3 MONTHS, ISN'T IT LIKE STORING SAND TO BUILD A MOUNTAIN?! ARE YOU PLANNING TO SQUEEZE ME TO DEATH!!!!!!"
Layla sighed, crossing her arms. "Then you should start right away, instead of standing here yelling."
.....................
Clack, clack, clack.
I slammed my shovel down on the ground, panting, sweating like a real farmer. "Layla! I'm the commander, not a worker?!"
Yes, I had ordered the construction of a wide highway from Baghdad to Basrah, straight along the Tigris River. Build the road first, then do other things, I hate to admit it, but the Chinese are right.
I sent out engineers to scout each section of the road to make sure there were no problems, I wanted to build this section of the road to the highest quality, I hated the idea of having to repair another section after finishing one, that would cost me even more money than it already did.
Layla, who was filling the dirt next to me, looked up, her face full of amusement. "Oh? So who was the one who just shouted 'Hurry up and dig! We have to finish by tomorrow morning!' with that loudspeaker?"
"I'm just saying that to motivate myself! I'm not going to jump into the hole and dig myself!" I replied bitterly, continuing to scoop up another shovel of dirt and tossing it aside.
Layla smiled slyly, brushing the dust off her cheeks. "Commander, what's there to complain about? We're making history! Don't you want to be recorded as 'The man who dug civilization with his own hands'?"
I snorted coldly. "I just want to be recorded as 'The man who survived this exploitative system'!"
The soldiers around tried to hold back their laughter, not daring to speak up. They were too used to seeing me doing hard labor while cursing the system.
However, they also knew an important truth: Don't be foolish enough to anger the commander, or you might find yourself being sent to work overtime tomorrow morning.
I mobilized all available resources to clear the road, requiring all residents to work overtime during their free time. "Comrades, remember! We're not just building a road! We're building a dream, a future!" I shouted.
A worker muttered, "Well, that's true, but why does a dream require night shifts like this...?"
I ignored him and continued my speech. "Every brick laid today is a step closer to glory! One day, we'll look back and see that we changed history!"
Layla applauded. "That's touching! If you ignore the fact that you're exploiting their labor."
I shouted, "I WAS EXPLOITED BY THE SYSTEM TOO! DO YOU THINK I LIKE DOING THIS?!"
I started building a cement factory, because obviously if you want to build something you need materials, otherwise I'm just going to put sand and spit together. Luckily, asphalt is a byproduct of oil refineries, which saves me a lot of money.
But don't get me wrong, I'm still dirt poor, the size of my army is currently pitifully small, even smaller than the police force of some neutral country. Oh, and they've given up that title now, I bet no one wants their money to be blatantly robbed legally, you know which country I'm talking about.
My subordinates have been grumbling when they see me for the past month, they act like I'm happy, but in reality, I'm the one being exploited! The only difference is that I'm being exploited by some invisible system on a higher level. What an endless chain of exploitation!
The construction machinery is truly a money-sucking monster. In just this month, I've burned through 121,000 gold, my spending speed is even faster than my resource extraction speed. This isn't economic management, this is organized bankruptcy! "Fuckkkkk this damn system!" I shouted in my head as I shoveled dirt.
Next to me, several soldiers were digging the road with resigned expressions. One of them whispered to the person next to him: "Hey, don't do anything to provoke the commander. If he gets mad, we'll have to listen to a whole speech about slavery!"
I glared at them. "I heard that!"
Everyone was silent, but I swear someone was snickering!....
"I know what you're going to say, Layla, but before you open your mouth, let me just say one thing: THIS MISSION IS FUCKING RUDE!!!" I was talking to Layla in the command room inside the base vehicle.
"Do you know why I have to use human power instead of machines? It's not because I like watching people carry rocks, but WHERE DO I GET THE MONEY TO BUY MACHINES??? You think I'm an oil tycoon?!"
"Not to mention that if I dare to sell oil now, those capitalists will come here in droves and tear me to pieces."
"I even set up a construction company to handle this, and summoned all kinds of people from engineers, masons, excavator drivers (even though there were no excavators yet) to foremen to look professional. But Layla, do you know how it feels to see 10,000 people digging hard and still see this road as endless?"
"600 kilometers from Baghdad to Basrah! I've exhausted myself and only completed 150 kilometers in a month!"
"Just do simple multiplication, that means there are still two months left and I'm only halfway done?! If this isn't exploitation, then what is?! No, I'm the victim of exploitation!"
I waved my hand in the command room, pointing southward to where my workers were digging as if this was a competition to see who could dig the fastest. A construction worker raised his head, wiped his sweat and shouted:
"Leader, can you reduce the working hours? We are working too hard!" Yes, he seemed to be stressed!!!!
Layla coughed softly. "Ahem, I can try negotiating with the system to reduce the difficulty of the mission…"
"Oh, you said that so early?!" I glared at Layla. "What do you think I've been whining about all this time for? For entertainment? Go ask for it for me right now!"
Layla pretended to think, then sighed. "I'll try… but the system has its own rules…"
"I have my own rules too!" I pointed down the long road ahead. "Rule number one: I'm not a slave!"
"Rule number two: Workers can work hard, but leaders can't be exhausted! Rule number three: I don't want to die before finishing this mission!!!"
Layla was silent for a moment, then turned away. I heard her mumble:
"… Sometimes it's harder to beg than to let you do it yourself…"
I crossed my arms and glared at Layla. "What did you say?!... I quit, @%%#(*&(@&....system, you guys go do it yourself!"
Layla blinked, clearly still not digesting my turn of the wheel. "Huh?"
"Huh, what?! Do you know how miserable I am? Six hundred kilometers of highway! I'm not a saint to build it in time!"
"Where's the money to buy enough machinery? Where are the people to dig? Only 10,000 people can be summoned in a week, and most of them have never seen a shovel, let alone asphalt!" I waved my hand and pointed to the distance, where a few workers were holding hoes and arguing over which end should be used to dig the soil.
Layla smiled wryly. "Ah… well… the system believes you can do it okay—"
"BELIEVE WHAT?! I believe I can fly too, but it's obvious that if I jump from the tower, I'll become a fried main character!"
"Is the system the worst boss in history?! It doesn't give me enough resources, it doesn't give me enough manpower, it doesn't give me vacation, and all it gives me is a three-month deadline to do something that would take a country years to complete!"
Layla was silent, looking at me as if she was thinking about something. Then she sighed. "Okay, I'll try to negotiate with the system for you."
I almost cried with emotion. "Really?"
"But it's not certain that it will agree."
"Whether it agrees or not, we have to try! If it doesn't reduce the difficulty, I swear I'll go on strike, go on a hunger strike, go on... a total despair!"
Layla pouted. "Okay, okay, let me try..."
Watching her walk away, I sighed deeply. If this doesn't get any easier, I might have to prepare myself to live the life of a construction worker for the rest of my life...
.........................
Two months later!
The roar of the engines echoed throughout the construction site, mixed with the rumble of the excavators. I was sitting on a steel "beast," controlling it like a professional worker—or so I thought.
Beside me, dozens of other mechanical vehicles were also working at full capacity: road rollers rolled back and forth as if massaging the road surface, trucks were competing to dump materials, and concrete mixers were spinning like giant washing machines.
Today was March 29, 1919. The fateful day. The day I would officially escape the life of a road-building buffalo.
"Oh my God! It's really done!!" I shouted, throwing my hard hat into the air like a college graduate.
All the workers around me also exploded in joy. Some jumped for joy, others hugged each other and cried as if they had just escaped from a re-education camp. A worker was still rolling around on the newly paved road, whispering: "So smooth… as smooth as a baby's skin…"
Layla, the girl who had been mercilessly exploited by me for the past two months, suddenly rushed forward and hugged me tightly.
"We escaped! FINALLY ESCAPED!!"
"Of course, thanks to whom?" I looked up at the sky, trying to look cool.
Layla nodded repeatedly: "Yes, thanks to me!"
I almost choked. "What? YOU were the one holding the hoe? Who was the one who almost died from lack of sleep?"
Layla pouted. "I was the one who negotiated with the system to reduce the price of machinery and manpower! Otherwise, you would still be dredging sand by hand!"
…Well, she was right.
Boris, the Russian mercenary, stood in the distance, raised a bottle of vodka and shouted:
"Za dorogu! For this glorious road!"
Then he took a long drink, his face red as a freshly steamed bun.
The workers around him also cheered loudly:
"For the road!"
"For sleepless nights and meals of dirt!"
"For a brighter tomorrow (and no more hoes)!"
Everyone shouted, celebrated, some even danced on the newly made road. One guy carried a wheelbarrow and ran around like a Roman warrior celebrating his victory.
I stood in the middle of that chaos, smiling with satisfaction. Two months ago, Layla had successfully negotiated with the system, helping me reduce the cost of purchasing machinery and summoning manpower by 50%. Thanks to that, today, instead of seeing people digging with their bare hands like in primitive times, I got to witness a brilliant construction site with excavators, rollers, and even large trucks.
But it's done. The highway is finished. And most importantly…
I can SLEEP WELL.
"After a long sleep, I woke up in a daze and immediately realized that something was wrong—my hand was heavy and almost numb."
I tried to move my fingers but almost lost feeling in my left hand. "Wait. Something is pressing on my hand." I frowned and looked down and…
"OH SHIT—it's Layla." She was lying on my arm. In a split second, a million chaotic thoughts ran through my head:
"What have I done? I don't want to be a father at this age! *I still want to enjoy a free life! But then I suddenly realized."
"Wait…"
We were both still dressed.
"Phew…" I breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time I felt a little hurt. At least I was hoping for a more dramatic story, right?
But no, I definitely didn't do anything. Wait, why is Layla sleeping in my room?!
"WAKE UP, LAYLA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I shook her awake in a panic.
Layla opened her eyes blearily, looked at me, then looked around, and then…
"AAAAAAAAAAAA!!"
Layla screamed, startled, clutching the blanket as if I were a monster.
"PERVERT! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!!"
Then she started sobbing. I froze—what? I didn't even understand what was going on
"What?!"
"Wait, wait! I didn't do anything!" I raised my hands like a criminal who had just been caught by the police.
Layla looked down and saw that she was still fully clothed, but she was still hugging the blanket and crying miserably. "Huhuhu… My life is over…"
I scratched my head, trying to stay calm. "Look closely! We're both wearing clothes!"
Layla blinked, stopped crying for a second, and then continued: "But how do I know you didn't do anything while I was sleeping?!"
I rolled my eyes, looking around the room in frustration. The clock on the wall read March 31, 1919. Wait…
I HAD BEEN SLEEPING FOR TWO DAYS?!
What the hell?!
Looking down at the floor, I saw a pile of beer cans lying around. Some were still unfinished, some were crushed as if someone had used them as tools to vent their anger.
At this point, a faint memory began to return…
That's right. After the celebration, Layla and I returned to the dressing room. But since we had drunk quite a bit earlier, we were both a bit tipsy. Layla—in the euphoria of escaping forced labor—kept insisting on drinking two more. I was too sober to object, so we just kept drinking.
And then… we both fell asleep.
I told her the whole story, hoping Layla would understand. But she didn't.
She glared at me, her face as red as a ripe tomato.
"You… YOU'RE STILL PRETENDING?!"
"What am I pretending about?!"
"YOU STOLE MY FIRST KISS!!"
…...
I blinked, taking three seconds to process the information.
"Ah… just a kiss?"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK IT IS?!"
"Uh… Nothing…" I muttered, feeling relieved but also a little—well, I don't know how to describe it.
But wait…
"Why would I kiss you?!" I stared at Layla.
She screamed, "HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!"
Just then, in a corner of the room, Boris—still snoring in his chair—suddenly stirred, muttering something vague:
"Drink too much… then kiss… it's nothing…"
Layla and I both turned to look at Boris, then at each other. "WAIT, WHEN DID THIS BASTARD GET HERE!!!!!"
Layla and I replied in unison. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
"OH FUCK! DON'T THROW A CHAIR AT ME! THIS IS YOUR OTHERS' BUSINESS."
"I'M JUST SAYING THE TRUTH AS I SEE IT!!!" Boris replied innocently.
........................
After everyone returned to their rooms, I sighed, looking around the room, which was as messy as if it had just been swept through by a storm. With a still-heavy head, I slowly cleaned up, the beer cans scattered on the floor like remnants of last night. When I was done, I trudged into the bathroom, turned on the water to a very hot temperature, and sank into the tub.
The steam rose hazily, but my mind was unable to lighten. Layla... what had she and I done? I tried to remember, but everything was a jumble. This feeling of losing control was uncomfortable. But more than that, there was something else weighing on my heart.
The people summoned by the system... they weren't normal individuals, they were clones born from a production line, with no past, no memories, only a single pre-programmed mission. Part of me wanted to think that they were just tools—biological machines designed to serve. But I couldn't.
They laughed, they talked, they worried, they suffered. They were more human than anything I had ever known. And no matter how they were made, they were still lives. Once they were under my command, they were no longer anonymous ghosts, no longer emotionless products of a cold system.
They were mine. Not as tools or property, but as people I was responsible for protecting.
I closed my eyes, letting the hot water soothe my troubled thoughts. None of them had the right to choose their fate. But I could choose how I treated them. And I vowed that, as long as I lived, they would be more than just pawns on a chessboard.
They deserve to live as real people. And I will make sure of that.
In the following days, I devoted myself to the construction, trying to ignore everything else and focus on the main goal. But the more I did, the more I realized a harsh truth: I was too distracted!
If this continued, let alone develop the army, I might not even finish building a public toilet. The pressure of a leader was really no joke.
Today was April 5, 1919, and I had just let out a long yawn when Layla appeared before me with a mysterious smile.
"Congratulations, Comrade Commander! You are receiving a reward today!" She handed me a tablet, her tone not hiding her excitement.
I squinted at the screen, my heart filled with anticipation. After three months of grinding away, the system should have thrown me a fat pile of resources or at least some fancy building, right? But why did it pay me on the 5th, as if I was getting paid!!!
[Satellite Reconnaissance Technology]
[Research Progress Bonus +100% (Research Completed, Can Be Built Immediately)]
Explanation: Unlocks the construction of the super-giant Rarda building with a soccer field that connects to the reconnaissance satellites in the Red Alert world that have been launched to this timeline. Can spy anywhere in the world you want.
Disadvantages: Can only be seen in the area you want to scout, limited by trajectory and weather. [Defense Radar Technology (Can be applied in many fields)][Research Progress Bonus +50% (Needs further research to unlock)]
Explanation: Artillery guidance radar, fire control radar, altitude reconnaissance radar, navigation radar, etc.
Disadvantages: Depending on the type of radar, you can see specific parameters.
I blinked. Looked again. And then again.
"...What the hell is this?" I turned to Layla, my face full of disbelief. "Three months of hard work, sweat and tears, building like a slave, and this is all I got?!"
Layla shrugged, looking innocent. "Um, what do you expect?"
"I'm not saying I want something big..." I gritted my teeth, "BUT THERE SHOULD BE AT LEAST SOMETHING WORTH IT?! SURVEILLANCE TECHNOLOGY WITH DEFENSIVE RADAR?! Is this a reward system or are you feeding me watery porridge?! I don't need any of this right now!!!"
Layla crossed her arms, calmly replying. "Well, who told someone to ask the system for a mission exemption? It's only reasonable that it would exempt you from the reward now."
My mouth dropped open, my eyes rolling.
"Is there anyone who's that stingy?!" I shouted. "Does my humanity have no value?!"
"Do you think the system is a charity?" Layla laughed, patting my shoulder. "There's no such thing as freebies or money falling from the sky. Take it, it's better than losing credit points."
I held my head in despair. That's right, I didn't lose credit points. That was the only bright spot in this situation. But honestly, if this 'rewarding as if not rewarding' style continued, should I consider suing the system for exploiting labor?
"Alright,... alright,... I know!! Comrade Commander, please stop whining and get back to the main problem you're facing. It seems like you really need someone to run the government for you, your work is about to be overloaded."
I sighed, knowing that she was right but couldn't help but feel a headache. Layla continued to suggest:
"We can hire an expert in the field of ideology and administration to help you run the state apparatus. After all, they have much more experience than us."
It sounded reasonable, I nodded and opened the list of experts that Layla gave me. But as soon as I looked at the price column, I felt like someone had slapped me. The lowest price was from one million gold and up!
"Layla, is this a list of experts or a list of legal bandits? A million gold? Do they write their orders in ink mixed with pure gold?" I exclaimed helplessly.
Layla chuckled, as if she had anticipated my reaction. "Well, brainpower is sometimes more expensive than dirt. So what do you think?"
At the bottom of the list, I glanced at the summoning fee and saw that it was only 100,000 gold, and it was possible to pay in installments. Too cheap!
Why was this guy so cheap? I curiously clicked on the details, and my eyes immediately widened—it was Yuri, the most dangerous villain in Red Alert 2.
What the hell was going on? Someone who could manipulate people's minds was priced the same as a ballistic missile launcher? Something was wrong!
I looked at the detailed profile and couldn't help but frown. He was an economist, a politician, a psychologist—impressive, but the last line of the note made me cringe:
"Extremely hot-tempered, avoid provocation." Damn, if I hired him, would I end up getting stabbed in the back or hypnotized into signing papers to sell my entire fleet?
Layla chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Trust me, I've met this guy once. If you knew why he was so cheap, I bet you'd not only laugh but sympathize with him!"
I raised an eyebrow at Layla. "Hey, why don't you just tell me?"
Layla crossed her arms, her expression serious. "Confidential. If you want to know, ask Yuri yourself when he comes here for an interview."
I sighed. "Okay, call him."
Layla picked up the phone on her desk, dialed a number, and spoke briefly to someone. Less than five minutes later, the doorbell rang. A man in a formal suit walked in, his face exactly like Yuri from Red Alert 2.
He handed over his resume and began to introduce himself. I listened attentively, but I didn't find anything unusual. After thinking for a while, I decided to ask directly:
"I know this question is a bit sensitive, but why is your rent so cheap? Not to mention that you allow installment payments?"
His eyes twitched, his face darkened and red with anger. Despite trying to stay calm, he couldn't help but scream: "It's the capitalists in other worlds who created these damn games and turned me into a villain!"
He held his head and sighed in frustration: "Yes, my luck is so bad that up until now I still haven't found a parallel timeline where I'm not a villain, or at least... not in the game."
He waved his hands helplessly: "Those games have given commanders in other worlds a bad impression of me. Now no one wants to hire me anymore! I just want to be a normal person, but even that can't be done?!"
"Rotten capitalists! They only know how to exploit and plunder!" Yuri roared, her face red with anger. "They only think about their own interests, never caring about the poor workers! What a bunch of bloodsuckers!"
Before he could calm down, he continued: "Money?! Do they think we need that piece of paper? We don't eat money, we eat bread! We don't drink checks, we need clean water! ...!@##$%%&&%*(#@@!&#"
I tried to hold back my laughter to keep a serious face, and together with Layla, I reassured him. After a while, Yuri finally calmed down, although he was still panting as if he had just cursed at an international trade conference.
Layla and I glanced at each other, trying to hold back our laughter. Our expressions made Yuri immediately notice, his mouth twitching as if he was about to explode into another half-hour anti-capitalist speech. I quickly raised my hand to stop him before his rage could sweep the atmosphere:
"I'll hire you."
Yuri immediately fell silent. Layla covered her mouth and giggled, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I had managed to put an end to the revolution on the spot.
After half an hour During the meeting in the room, he outlined a clearer development plan for Layla and me about this Iraqi region. With eyes shining as if he had just invented something great, he passionately and eloquently spoke in the meeting room, waving his hands in the air like a revolutionary calling on the masses to rise up.
Yuri: "Comrade! This is the time for us to overthrow the oppression of the capitalists! We will build a new economic system where everyone benefits equally! No more exploitation of people, only people helping people!"
Layla crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows at Yuri as if assessing whether he was running a fever because he was so enthusiastic about his speech.
I nodded seriously, but in my mind there was only one thought: "Whatever, as long as your plans run smoothly without any problems. After all, I'm an outsider in this field, I'll rely on you for everything."
I rubbed my forehead, thinking to myself: "Is this guy trustworthy!!!! But oh well, I'll just keep going, I don't have the money to hire someone else anyway....."
Since Yuri started working, I've never seen anything unusual. He's a true workaholic, always full of energy as if he was running on nuclear power.
At first, I thought he might get tired sometimes, but who would have thought... He just kept working, working, to the point that I felt tired for him.
Then what had to happen happened. One day, while I was standing watching the construction site, Boris ran over in a panic.
"Comrade Commander! Something's happened!"
I frowned: "What's going on again? Who dares to cause trouble?"
Boris swallowed, pointing towards the control tent. "It's Yuri... He's fainted!"
I almost spit out the water in my mouth. "What?! He gets tired too?!"
Hurriedly running over, I saw Yuri lying on the table, face down on a pile of papers, next to Layla with a helpless expression.
Layla crossed her arms: "I told you, if he keeps working nonstop, he'll collapse one day!"
I sighed, patting him on the back. "Hey, wake up, man. I haven't let you die yet! You still have to work for me for a long time!!!!"
Yuri stirred, eyes opening lazily. "No... I still have to finish the plan... Can't rest yet..."
Boris angrily knocked on the table. "The plan, your head! If you work any longer, we'll have to dig a hole to bury you!"
I crossed my arms and looked at him, thought for a while, then made a decision. "From now on, I'll limit your working hours, no more than 10 hours a day! If you violate this, your coffee will be confiscated and you'll be banned from using it for a month!"
Yuri's face immediately turned pale. "Comrade Commander! Please reconsider! I swear I can balance work and coffee!"
Layla crossed her arms and sneered, "If you knew how to balance, you wouldn't have had to go to the emergency room for overwork last week."
Yuri let out a breath, looking at me in despair. "Impossible... coffee is my life! How can I survive without it?"
I shrugged. "Then obediently follow the rules. As long as you don't work overtime, your coffee is safe."
Yuri looked at me, then at the coffee, then back at me, clearly struggling with a mental crisis. Finally, he sighed and muttered, "This place is really too cruel..."
Yuri, who had finally regained his senses, immediately sat up, eyes wide. "No! How can I live without coffee?! Comrade Commander, please reconsider!"
I laughed coldly and patted him on the shoulder: "What are you thinking? It's too late. This is an order. If you don't obey, don't blame me for being harsh!"
Layla immediately clapped her hands: "Too good! That's the way to deal with this addict!"
Boris laughed happily, while Layla nodded in satisfaction. As for Yuri, he could only hold his head and sigh, as if his world had just collapsed. "Sigh, what a workaholic..."
Under Yuri's tireless work, Layla's devoted support, and Boris's indomitable spirit, a young nation gradually took shape on the barren land of Iraq.
It had been eight months since I set foot in this world, eight months of labor, struggle, and hope. Now, I knew that it was time to give this country a name—a name that could represent the future I wanted to build.
I stood in front of a large map, spread out on the table in the conference room. Layla stood beside him with her arms crossed, her eyes filled with thought.
Boris leaned against the wall, a bottle of wine in his hand, listening. Yuri, still holding his coffee, stared intently at the tablet screen with its pile of numbers.
I spoke, my voice calm but no less determined.
"From today onwards, this land will be called the United Arab Republic."
The room fell silent for a moment. Layla blinked a few times and nodded.
"The United Arab Republic... Are you sure? This title means a lot, it's more than just a name."
"I know," I replied, my eyes scanning the room. "We're not just building a settlement. We're creating a new people, a nation that can stand up to the great powers of the world.
We're not alone—hundreds of thousands of people have placed their trust in us. This is not a momentary decision, but the future I have chosen."
Boris chuckled, raising the bottle of wine as a toast.
"Ha! Then let's drink to celebrate, right? It's a waste to not have wine for a new nation!"
"If you drink any more, your liver will go on strike, Boris," Layla gave him a sidelong glance.
Yuri, who had been staring at the screen, finally raised his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"That's a nice name. But if we're going to have a nation, we're going to need a formal administrative system. I'll sort out the paperwork to set up a more complete government. Oh, but first, give me another cup of coffee."
I laughed, feeling a little lighter.
"Then let's get started. From today on, we're no longer mere survivors. We're citizens of the United Arab Republic."
Everyone in the room nodded. A new chapter had officially opened in this land.
...............
The late winter sky was a dull gray, but inside the command center, the air was hotter than ever. I stood in front of the map hanging on the wall, my eyes scanning the borders where we had established ourselves for the past eight months.
Now, I was no longer a stranger in this strange world—I was the leader of a growing nation.
Yuri sat across from me, a cup of coffee in his hand, his eyes focused on his notebook. He still looked the same, still the workaholic who forced himself to sleep on schedule.
"Four months ago, we had a series of plans," I said slowly. "But at that time, we didn't have the conditions to carry them out. What about now?"
Yuri put down the notebook, took off his glasses, and rubbed his temples.
"The population has reached 300,000. It's not a small number, but it's not big enough to be called a great power. However, it's enough to form a solid foundation. The point is..." He paused, taking a sip of coffee. "
"...our army has reached 40,000 men, with two infantry divisions, an armored brigade, and three artillery regiments. Accompanying them are logistics and engineering units."
Layla, who had been following the conversation from the beginning, folded her arms and leaned against the window, frowning slightly.
"Enough to defend, but not enough to expand."
I nodded. That's right. This military force helps us maintain order and protect the territory, but to expand, to become a real power, it's still not enough.
"It's not just a matter of numbers," I continued. "We need an industry strong enough to maintain this army. Food, ammunition, vehicles, infrastructure. You can't just rely on population expansion and hope everything will work out."
Boris, who had just entered the room, sneered.
"So what? War is always the quickest answer to industrial expansion. If we have more territory, resources, and manpower, these problems will disappear."
"And it will create a whole bunch of new problems," Layla countered. "War will drain us if we don't have a clear plan."
I was silent for a moment, then turned back to the map.
"They're both right," I admitted. "We'll have a war, but not now. First, we have to make sure our economy can support our army. War without a strong rear is just a risky gamble."
Yuri smiled slightly, turning the notebook to another page.
"I thought you would say that, so I prepared an industrial development plan. If approved, we will focus on expanding our military in the next two years."
"In the first year, we will focus on producing weapons, ammunition, and vehicles to stockpile in order to expand the military at any time, and most importantly—a railway system to connect strategic areas."
I took the plan, my eyes scanning each line.
"In the second year, we will focus on training and expanding our military and at the same time be ready to announce our new nation in this world." Yuri continued.
"Two years... Okay, we will do that." I looked at everyone, my eyes determined.
The next day, inside the conference room, Yuri and I sat in front of a detailed plan spread out on the table. Layla stood beside me, her arms folded, listening to the discussion between Yuri and I.
The atmosphere in the room was quite tense—not because of disagreement point of view, because we both understood the importance of this decision.
"We're ready to accept more outsiders," I said, staring at the map of Mesopotamia. "But the problem is how to do it in an organized way."
Yuri put down his coffee cup and rubbed his temples. He looked less haggard after I forced him to cut his work hours down to... ten hours a day. Still insane, but at least it kept him from fainting in the middle of the meeting room.
"We need a strict immigration control system," Yuri said, his voice somewhat tired. "Not everyone can enter our territory without being checked. We need to classify immigrants, ensure their security, and most importantly, ensure their ideology is not distorted."
Layla nodded.
"We also need a clear propaganda mechanism. Not all Arabs outside trust a brand new government like ours. They are used to village life."
"Satellite reconnaissance images show that the peninsula is quite sparsely populated, and most of it is desert. Only the place we are standing here and the Iranian side have quite good natural conditions. They are mainly concentrated in this area."
"But the important thing is to have someone who can convince them."
I sighed.
"And that's our biggest problem." I leaned back in my chair, my eyes scanning the room. "We have a plan, we have the infrastructure, but we lack a real politician to take charge of this. Someone who can persuade, negotiate, and promote."
Yuri shrugged.
"We can train our own people, but summoning them from the system would be too expensive, we can't afford it."
"No time," I shook my head. "We need experienced people now, not in a few years, remember, World War II is only 19 years away."
Boris nodded.
I thought for a moment, then looked at Layla and Yuri.
"Okay, I agree. Layla, you'll be in charge of researching and suggesting suitable names from the computer system. I want the list within a week."
Layla smiled, tilting her head.
"Leave it to me."
After Yuri reviewed the suggestions on the list Layla provided, we decided to hire an additional political ideologist to assist me in shaping the direction of the country.
And then, I found a suitable candidate—Karim Al-Hassa.
Once again, the financial issue surprised me. He was even cheaper than Yuri. At first, I thought he might be incompetent or have something fishy, but when I read his profile and dug deeper, I realized that the main reason was… his political leanings.
When I read his profile and dug deeper, it was because of his political leanings. It was Islamic Socialism.
I cursed in my mind. "Damn, I hope he's not a radical terrorist." But anyway, meeting him in person was the best way to judge.