After hanging up, Frank wore a teasing smile. Just as Feng Shan was about to explain, Frank spoke.

"Feng, you’re becoming more and more like a hypocritical politician. It’s a good look."

"That’s..." Feng Shan didn’t want Frank to get the wrong idea.

Frank once again flashed a relieved smile, like a doting aunt. "No need to explain. You’ve grown up!"

"!!!" Feng Shan was speechless.

Just then, an announcement came over the gymnasium’s PA system, informing the Indigenous chiefs from all regions that the meeting was about to begin and asking them to take their seats.

"Come on, let’s get to the meeting."

Frank didn’t give Feng Shan a chance to speak. All signs indicated that the Wild Bull Tribe held no malice toward Feng Shan; on the contrary, they seemed to be helping him at every turn.

’As for why, if Feng Shan doesn’t want to talk about it, there’s no need to pry.’

’Kids always have their own secrets when they grow up.’

As the Indigenous chiefs began to take their seats, Feng Shan’s Wolf Fur Coat stood out, looking particularly conspicuous.

’Where am I supposed to sit?’

’There’s no seat number on the invitation card.’

Just as Feng Shan was wondering what to do, Louise stood up from her chair and waved him over.

"Feng, over here!"

Frank had intended to have Feng Shan sit with him, but an invitation from the Taiga Alliance was a good thing. ’It means the Indigenous People of the Far North Region have accepted Feng Shan, and by extension, the Crown Territory.’

After bidding Frank farewell, Feng Shan made his way to the seating area for the Indigenous tribes of the Far North Region. It was tucked away in a corner of the venue. Apparently, the destitute folks from the Far North weren’t highly regarded among the other Indigenous People.

"Feng, sit here." Louise pointed to an empty seat next to her, the second one in the front row. It seemed she had saved it especially for him.

In China, seating arrangements at meetings are a big deal. For many formal occasions, they often follow strict rules and traditions.

Things weren’t so different abroad, where unwritten rules also governed seating, with arrangements often reflecting hierarchies and status.

Take the seat Louise had saved, for example. As the current leader of the Taiga Tribe Alliance, she occupied the first seat in the front row. The second seat should have gone to the alliance’s deputy chief. By offering it to Feng Shan, the alliance members were signaling their recognition of his status.

The surrounding chiefs of the alliance turned to look at him, their gazes a mixture of expectation and scrutiny.

Feng Shan wasn’t a fool. He understood the significance and responsibility that came with the seat. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked over and sat down.

The moment he sat, the members of the Taiga Tribe Alliance broke into relieved smiles.

The 2017 Alaska Indigenous Elders and Youth Conference officially began.

A stage was set up at the front of the hall. Seated on it were a dozen or so people, including representatives from Alaska’s three largest Indigenous tribes, the CEOs of twelve Indigenous Companies, and a representative from the State Indigenous Management Committee.

What followed was a series of long-winded speeches about this year’s welfare measures for Indigenous People and the development outlook for the coming year.

It was enough to make anyone drowsy.

Many of the tribal chiefs weren’t listening at all, instead staring down at their phones.

Feng Shan wanted to slack off too, but playing on his phone felt inappropriate for his first formal meeting. He fought back his sleepiness, forced his eyes wide, and put on a look of rapt attention.

Louise, sitting beside him, noticed and smirked. "Feng, you can relax for a bit. This is just the warm-up. The real show is about to start."

"How exciting!" Feng Shan’s interest was piqued.

Louise kept her eyes on the stage and whispered, "At last year’s conference, the Southern Meadow Lake Tribe and the Vasila Tribe got into a dispute over hunting grounds. They drew weapons right here. The Vasila Tribe Chief was injured. This year, the Vasila Tribe brought a dedicated Hunter, preparing for an honor revenge. Look over there, seventh row on the right."

The seventh row on the right!

Feng Shan quickly turned his head. Sure enough, in the seventh row, he saw an Indian whose face was covered in dark, bluish-black tattoos. The man’s fierce gaze was locked onto a seat further ahead.

"Don’t the organizers do anything about it?"

"If they’re fast enough, no one can stop them in time. And there are other disputes between tribes, too."

’It gets that intense?’

Feng Shan was suddenly wide awake. Just like the other tribal chiefs, he was now eagerly waiting for the droning speeches on stage to end and the next part of the program to begin.

Soon, the bigwigs on stage finished their speeches. The security guards posted around the room began to stir restlessly. Since this was an internal Indigenous meeting, the guards were also Indigenous People. They were unarmed and instructed to rely mainly on persuasion.

As the final speaker from the State Indigenous Management Committee concluded his remarks, the host announced it was time for the chiefs to present their questions.

The words had barely left his mouth.

Feng Shan immediately whipped his head around. At the same time, as if by telepathy, the other tribal chiefs did the same.

The tattooed Hunter from the Vasila Tribe pulled a nearly two-meter-long Long Spear from under his seat. Shouting something in an Indian language, he charged toward the seats ahead of him.

’Holy cow!’

’A Wooden Spear that long... how did he get it into the conference hall without security noticing?’

Feng Shan’s eyes went wide.

Seeing what was happening, the other tribal chiefs quickly got out of the way, clearing a path.

The man from the Meadow Lake Tribe was prepared. He raised a Cleaver in one hand and snatched up a chair to use as a Shield.

The Long Spear struck the chair and glanced off. The Vasila Tribe Hunter then drew his own Cleaver, and the two began a fierce hacking match.

In an instant, blood flew through the air.

The crowd in the hall—whether they were Indians, Inuit, or Aleut People—raised their arms and cheered.

The dignitaries on stage stood up, shouting for security to intervene, but none of them dared to step down themselves.

It looked like if they kept at it, someone was going to die.

Feng Shan grabbed a chair and hurled it with all his might.

The chair whistled through the air, slamming into the two men and sending them both flying. They landed on the floor, twitching.

’Crap, I forgot to hold back!’

Looking embarrassed, Feng Shan hurried over to check on them and found they were only unconscious. ’Thank god. If I’d actually killed them... I’d be the target of honor revenge for two tribes at the next conference.’

The security guards pushed through the crowd to the two men’s side.

"They’re just unconscious. Take them to a hospital," Feng Shan said as he stood up.

’To knock someone out with a single chair... how much strength would that take?’

The guards looked suspiciously at the strange Indigenous man in the Wolf Fur Coat. They had never seen him before. ’Which tribe is he from?’

A Wolf Fur Coat, a Black Wolf Head Hood...

’Wait a minute!’

’He’s Feng! The Crown Lord, the Carnation Knight, the Fenrir Terminator!’

At the same time, other Indigenous chiefs also recognized Feng Shan, and a wave of whispers immediately swept through the hall.

"What’s he doing at this conference?"

"I knew it was him the moment I saw the Black Wolf Head."

"Forget Feng, his name is Khilla! Haven’t you seen Facebook? He’s one of us, an Athabasca."

"Khilla’s an Athabasca? I’ve never heard that!"

"That’s not right. Khilla is an Inuit, born on the Tundra."

"He’s Aleut."

Upon learning Feng Shan’s name was Khilla, the chiefs of the Athabasca tribes surged forward to speak with him. Not to be outdone, the chiefs from other tribes rushed in as well.

On stage, seeing how popular Feng Shan was, the representatives of the three largest Indigenous tribes did nothing to stop the commotion. Seeing that their bosses were silent, the twelve Indigenous Company CEOs kept quiet as well. Only the representative from the State Indigenous Management Committee looked completely dumbfounded.

’What is going on?’

’These three main Indigenous groups are usually at each other’s throats. The committee’s primary job is to fan those flames and keep them from getting along. A chaotic Indigenous population is one the state government doesn’t have to worry about.’

The committee’s director, Jasper, called over his assistant. With a dark expression, he demanded in a low, angry voice,

"Who is that Indigenous man?"

"Why don’t I have a file on him?"

The young assistant replied, looking aggrieved, "I don’t know either. We weren’t the ones who issued the invitations."

"I need all of his information, now. Go to the investigation bureau, get it from the FBI. You have five minutes. Go!"

After his assistant scurried away, Jasper turned back to the Indigenous representatives, a genial smile now plastered on his face as he lavished praise on Feng Shan’s earlier actions.

Meanwhile, Feng Shan was surrounded by the tribal chiefs, struggling to keep up with the deluge of greetings from all sides.

Voices buzzed in his ears from every direction. Feng Shan felt his head starting to spin, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He felt like he was about to be overwhelmed.

Louise and the other chiefs from the Taiga Alliance stepped in to help extricate him, and the hall finally quieted down a little.

Just then, the representative from the Wild Bull Tribe took the microphone on stage.

He told the chiefs to return to their seats so the meeting could continue.

The Wild Bull Tribe was the largest of the Athabasca tribes, so their words carried weight. The Athabasca chiefs returned to their seats, and seeing this, the chiefs of the other two groups did the same.

The meeting resumed.

It was now time for the chiefs’ open-question session.

Amid the expectant gazes of her alliance members, Louise stood up and took the microphone.

"We, the Northernmost Taiga Alliance, hereby formally announce the appointment of Feng Shan as the VPSO Sheriff for the Far North Region. He will be responsible for investigating and apprehending criminals in all communities and villages within the region."

The moment she finished speaking...

The hall erupted once more. The tribal chiefs from the other regions all snapped their gazes toward the Far North Region’s seating area.

Or more precisely, toward Feng Shan.

Every remote tribal community and village was short on the VPSO program.

Furthermore, the state government’s policy of turning a blind eye to crime in Indigenous areas had led to a yearly increase in cases. Yet, the corresponding security agencies were being cut. This year, the number of state troopers had been reduced from 330 to 230. Expecting just 230 troopers to handle all crime across the entire state was a fantasy not even the Grimm’s fairy tales would dare to write.

"Ms. Louise, my apologies, but I haven’t received any application to that effect," Director Jasper from the State Indigenous Management Committee said with a nodding smile. "After this conference concludes, I will convene a meeting to discuss it. It is an excellent suggestion, one that could greatly improve safety in your communities and villages. Our committee is very supportive."

*Heh.*

Louise’s lips curled into a cold sneer. She raised the microphone, showing him no quarter. "Convene a meeting? To do what, share sugar-dusted donuts?"

BOOM!

The hall erupted in laughter.

There wasn’t a single one of the two hundred-plus tribal chiefs present who didn’t get the joke.

Director Jasper’s smile froze on his face, his eyes flashing with anger and embarrassment.

He never imagined Louise would air their dirty laundry in a setting like this, and with such biting sarcasm.

"Mayor Louise, what is the meaning of this?" Director Jasper asked, suppressing his rage.

But Louise was fearless. She stared straight into his eyes. "What’s the meaning? You know damn well what it means. Don’t play dumb with me."

"One-third of the communities and villages in Alaska have no local law enforcement. No state troopers to stop active murderers, no village police to prevent domestic violence, not even anyone to patrol the streets! Your Management Committee should be held responsible for this."

"When a crime was reported in Kivalina, it took state troopers 24 hours to respond because they had to be dispatched from Fairbanks! In 24 hours, a criminal could fly halfway around the world!"

"Even in the villages that do have local police, the communities are forced to hire officers with criminal records, which violates federal standards. But what choice do they have? Someone is better than no one."

Louise’s impassioned voice echoed through the hall. The other tribal chiefs, sharing her sentiment, rose to their feet.

"That’s right! My son was murdered by poachers two years ago! Why is the case still unsolved?"

"A girl in our community was raped, and the state troopers claimed there were no leads, so they couldn’t even open an investigation!"

"Why is it that when a white person calls the police, they show up right away, but we’re forced to wait ten, twenty, even thirty hours?"

"No one gives a damn if we Indigenous People live or die! To them, we’re just meant to die!"

...