Blackstone Code-Chapter 697: The New Federation

For the general public in Nagaryll, the hottest topic was labor export.

Higher wages, better treatment—some literacy schools even promoted themselves with slogans like One Month of Literacy, a Lifetime of Happiness.

And all of it was free.

Anyone could attend literacy courses at these schools for free. As long as they completed the program and received a graduation certificate, they could apply for various jobs.

The cost of the literacy program would be deducted proportionally from their wages after employment. Initially, the deductions were higher, but later they decreased significantly. In one to three years, the tuition could be fully repaid.

Meanwhile, they could still earn a good amount of money.

All of this was clearly outlined in the contracts signed when enrolling. If someone opted for smaller weekly deductions, the repayment period would be longer.

Some had studied the contracts carefully and found that paying the full amount upfront was the most cost-effective. Stretching repayment over five years would mean paying more than three times the upfront cost. Still, many chose the three- or five-year plans, as the weekly deductions were low enough not to affect their daily lives.

Currently, only those who completed literacy training were eligible for overseas work, fueling a national craze for literacy. In addition, vocational schools offering low- to mid-level technical training were becoming popular.

Technical jobs offered higher wages, more subsidies, and better conditions. For example, operators and drivers of engineering vehicles had two-person rooms—or even private rooms.

That was far more comfortable than being crammed in with others.

To earn more and enjoy better conditions, one needed higher personal capabilities—starting with basic literacy.

Nagaryll was a classic case of social polarization. Apart from the elites, the rest were at the bottom. The once-existing middle class had been wiped out during earlier purges.

Now, over 95% of the population, the lower class, were talking about jobs and training—not the joint assembly that was currently in session.

In the royal palace in the capital, provincial governors from all over Nagaryll were gathered around a massive round table.

The former Crown Prince, now the King, sat at the head. He looked relaxed, showing no trace of anger or resentment—none of the negativity people had speculated about.

Even the Federation had been caught off guard by his cooperation. To put it plainly, it was like the guest had only just walked in and the host was already lying on the bed, cleaned up and ready.

His enthusiasm raised suspicions—some believed he must be plotting something. But after repeated tests, they realized he truly was cooperating, and only then did their doubts ease.

For the Crown Prince—now the young King—it was simple. He was just a placeholder. He had food, drink, and the Federation even paid into his social insurance, opened a bank account for him, and deposited money regularly.

He saw it as one of the best things in the world. If the Federation had agreed, he would’ve disbanded the monarchy altogether and gone to enjoy life in the Federation.

Compared to his leisure, the other attendees looked far less comfortable.

The meeting had two agenda items.

First, a formal shift in Nagaryll’s political system—from a feudal monarchy to a federal parliamentary system. All provincial governors would become members of parliament, rotating as chair. The King would hold one chair vote and three representative votes.

Also, hereditary positions would be abolished, replaced with an electoral system. Each province—now termed a state—would elect its own representatives.

Implementation might be shaky at first, but it would eventually take hold. This marked the countdown to the end of hereditary rule.

If the first item was about changing the country, the second was about ensuring it stayed changed.

The kingdom had announced the dissolution of 90% of its armed forces. Defense responsibilities would be outsourced to federal contractors.

Nagaryll would pay these contractors annually to guarantee national defense and domestic stability.

The only remaining armed force under local control was the police.

In addition to the rulers, several Federation personnel were present in the room, acting as aides to some governors.

“The time has come, Your Highness…” the Federation butler standing beside the King bent down and reminded him softly.

Snapped out of his pleasant daydream, the King straightened up slightly. “Everyone’s arrived? Then let’s begin.”

“I know all of you have thoughts. Whether you express them or not, I know you’re thinking. I even know what you’re thinking.”

“Some may laugh at me and call me useless. I don’t care. I don’t feel much attachment to this place.”

“Decay, backwardness, ignorance…”

He listed these flaws bluntly. The two Federation aides beside him maintained polite smiles. He wasn’t wrong.

The Crown Prince had long been seen as someone who studied abroad and never wanted to return. There were many like him—including children of provincial governors—who had settled abroad for a better life.

Everyone knew the King was right, but accepting it was still difficult.

“Enough. Let’s get to the point.”

Someone interrupted. The King cast a sidelong glance at the interrupter and sneered, “Alright, let’s get to the main topic…”

He casually flipped through some documents on the table, then closed them again. “Nagaryll has gone through a lot. It’s time we faced reality. Without immediate reform, we won’t be able to hold on.”

“From the bottom to the top, every social tier has deep-rooted problems. I’m not here to assign blame—we’re here to change things.”

“We may lack experience, but we’re not idiots. We can learn—learn from advanced, developed nations.”

“The Federation is a great example. In military, economics, politics, science, industry, and public welfare, they lead the world.”

“That’s not a coincidence—and that’s exactly why we must learn from them.”

Inside the room, outside the room, and even back in the Federation, many were watching this meeting closely. Voices from the chamber were transmitted directly through wires into the ears of those listening.

That included the President, members of the Cabinet, Mr. Truman, and anyone else even remotely involved.

From the beginning, the ending had already been decided. This meeting was just to let Nagaryll exit the stage with a shred of dignity.

Moreover, what the new king said wasn’t made up or false—almost everything he said was true.

Take the current situation: the lower class in Nagaryll, which had remained stagnant for over a century, had been fully revitalized under the Federation’s economic development, achieving results that left the ruling class dumbfounded.

People began to yearn for change, to reflect. New waves of thought surged through society. Even without pressure from the Federation to reform the political system, eventually, someone from within would have stepped up to push for transformation.

All the Federation did was accelerate that process. It wasn’t coercion, let alone invasion—it was the warm care of internationalist brotherhood.

As the lengthy discussion dragged on, time passed bit by bit. No one in the room looked pleased—after all, they were about to surrender their power. Who could smile at a moment like that?

“…Let’s vote.”

When the new king said those words, everyone inside and outside the room held their breath.

Silence. That was the first thing people noticed. It lasted two or three minutes.

Prompted by the butler, the king smiled. “You all seem a bit shy, so I’ll go first. I vote in favor of the first proposal: to reform and strengthen our nation by changing Nagaryll’s current political system.”

He raised his hand and looked around the room.

Some looked reluctant, others hesitant. Some were expressionless, others sighed.

“I agree…”

“Agreed…”

Everyone raised their hands. At this point, resistance was pointless.

Anyone who truly wanted to be a martyr had already died for their beliefs. Those who had held on to their power until now clearly had no such intentions.

The first proposal passed smoothly. The second followed—and passed just as easily.

The Federation’s defense contractors had already stationed their personnel throughout the country. At this point, to oppose the decision would be absurd. If someone voted against it, their family might get hit by a meteor the very next second.

In less than an hour, a country, in practical terms, ceased to exist.

That evening, what was a relatively unremarkable domestic story in Nagaryll sparked international headlines.

The new king’s cooperation helped soften the Federation’s image in the affair. It was obvious he wasn’t under duress. In the following press conference, he publicly condemned the old corrupt regime before a global audience.

He even reiterated his desire to dissolve the monarchy entirely, stating it would be the ultimate proof of his commitment to reform.

The name Kingdom of Nagaryll was now history.

From this moment on, it would be called the New Nagaryll of Federation.