[TN: Lol sorry been very busy with school here all the chapter I own]

The boss of Roxxon Energy wasn't a fool—he was a greedy and cunning man.

He monopolized all oil, so of course, he wanted everyone to be almost addicted to oil, never able to escape from it.

But technically speaking, the cost of oil would rise as reserves dwindled, and sooner or later, humanity would have to seek alternative energy sources.

That's why CEO Dario chose to register his company as an "energy company" rather than just an oil company.

Oil was only the choice of the present era. What he really wanted was to monopolize all energy, the very power that kept society running.

If this were the Stone Age, Dario would definitely have tried to monopolize every torch the cavemen held.

[Leo: As it turns out, our opponent isn't addicted to oil. After consolidating, this company has already begun trying to monopolize nuclear fuel sources.]

[Leo: We have support from the African Union, but Uranium-10 is a state-owned enterprise, and that country may prefer to build good relations with Roxxon.]

[Leo: In a bidding war, the most dangerous thing is when you and your opponent are both very rich—because then the winner will never be decided by money, but by… other means.]

[Otto: You mean they might directly attack us over this? But…]

But that didn't make sense!

Wouldn't they be afraid of public backlash?

That was Otto's first thought—but then hesitation made him stop. Were they really afraid? Did that logic really make no sense?

In virtual space, Leo lowered his head slightly, pacing back and forth.

[Leo: I've already emailed Uranium-10, but their reply wasn't very friendly.]

[Leo: On the other hand, because uranium prices hadn't met expectations, they decided years ago to delay mining. To this day, no formal extraction has begun, so they also haven't paid the related fees.]

[Leo: Which is why the African Union and Tanzanian government are considering revoking their mining rights.]

The situation was clear.

Everyone's expressions grew complicated—

As Americans, they suddenly realized why they felt conflicted:

Technically, following national law wasn't wrong. It was all written in the contracts.

But when one company failed to meet quotas, rights usually just passed to the next company to keep things running. Now Leo had stepped in, and of course the African Union would back him.

It felt like using government power to bully a private company. On American TV, cases like this were shown all the time—and usually the public ended up sympathizing with the companies that got crushed.

Leo was being very open about what might happen, but the researchers found themselves thinking: This world is so complicated… maybe it's easier just to do science.

Noticing their thoughts, Leo stopped pacing and looked at them:

[Leo: If you don't object, the company will begin the takeover. The Tanzanian government may compensate Uranium-10, and we'll cover part of that.]

They exchanged looks, but all shook their heads.

Overall, they didn't see Leo's actions as wrong—just not quite what they imagined "a society ruled by law" to look like.

In these circumstances, the once "supreme" law felt… frail.

It left them with subtle, uneasy feelings.

[Leo: Good. Then I'll notify Frank to change course. Dr. Toomes, we'll need temporary modifications to our equipment. I'll need you online during this period.]

[Leo: Meeting adjourned.]

Boom, boom, boom.

Suez Canal.

Two-meter-tall unmanned mechs patrolled the docks, their heavy footsteps intimidating onlookers.

These steel soldiers marched according to orders, ready at any time to intercept and inspect passing ships.

Weeks earlier, the U.S. Sixth Fleet had dispatched several units from Naples, Italy, to Africa.

Their official orders were straightforward: strike Somali pirates and locate the missing warship.

But behind the scenes, only high-ranking officers knew the truth—Africa Command had just stumbled into a goldmine:

Their real mission was to seize a zone in Somalia and establish a permanent base.

Since 1991, Somalia had basically been in a near-anarchic state. For the Sixth Fleet, taking control was as easy as snapping fingers.

Once they stabilized the region by force, skimming profit would be effortless.

Without this excuse, they'd never have gotten the chance.

And whatever method the Pentagon used to convince the Egyptian government to let them conduct these "inspections," it was lining their pockets nonstop.

At the port, an officer watched as robots and soldiers once again inspected a ship. His expression remained calm, but inside, he was ecstatic.

He never imagined he'd get such an opportunity in his lifetime.

The stronger the military's control, the easier it was for soldiers like him to earn side money.

But soon, a new order came in:

[HQ: Second Armored Battalion, prepare to board. You're being deployed to Tanzania.]

Somalia.

In a shabby hut, a young boy was glued to the radio, listening to world news:

"The Sixth Fleet is preparing to land in Somalia and occupy the region."

"Vice Admiral Kenway, commander of the Sixth Fleet, stated they will locate the missing warship and strike hard against terrorists."

"He added that Somalia has been in a state of anarchy for decades, posing a huge threat to the safety of civilian shipping and severely harming Africa's economic development."

"If possible, they will maintain stability in Somali waters and help develop the region."

"Roxxon Energy Group has expressed strong interest in this proposal…"

The boy jumped to his feet, bolting outside barefoot.

"The Americans are coming! The Americans are coming!"

Outside, the elders who had been dancing around the fire instantly froze, their faces changing. They scattered in a panic—

Strangely, although they looked like a chaotic swarm, they were all running in the same direction.

As if assembling.

Beyond the woods, the coastline wasn't far.

Moored in a fjord-like inlet was a battered old destroyer.

The cries of the tribesmen echoed through the jungle—

"The Americans are coming!"

Tanzania border.

A convoy rumbled through the mountains.

Drones buzzed overhead, providing surveillance and guidance.

Splash—

Vehicles marked with the Atlas Corporation emblem splashed through wetlands.

Inside, fighters in exoskeletons rested in their seats.

Frank drove, his HUD displaying the combat AI's reports—

Everything normal.

They had already traveled hundreds of kilometers and been attacked several times, but most enemies just shot and ran. None dared to hold their ground against Atlas firepower.

In the passenger seat, Captain Carter had draped himself in a tattered cloak with distinct African flair.

"…Sometimes I feel like I'm still fighting in Europe."

"Europe has jungles like this?"

"Not really." Carter sighed at the scenery outside. "But after that, America fought a few more wars."

Frank shrugged. "Just because I was in them doesn't mean that's all of them."

Through the trees, Mount Kilimanjaro loomed faintly in the distance.

"Frozen for nearly 100 years, only to wake up and get shipped straight to Africa…"

"Trust me," Frank chuckled. "You wouldn't want to go back."

"Why not?"

"Look, I heard some college kids take a year off after graduation to adjust. You, on the other hand, were fighting a world war before you went under. Think of this as your break."

"You call war a break?!"

Frank nodded—before, maybe not. But now? Yeah, sort of.

Truthfully, he only thought that way because he underestimated how smoothly Carter had dominated the European frontlines.

Frank had served for years, watching countless comrades die or get maimed. But Carter?

Maybe fewer than ten.

Before he could say more, a new message came in:

[Leo: Change course.]