Chapter 100: Shadows of Control

The air was thick with tension as I stood before my growing faction. The recent confrontation with the resistance group had sent ripples through the survivors, and I needed to ensure that we kept our momentum. If the UNO wanted to use me as a tax collector, I would play the role—but on my own terms.

"James," Ray said, stepping beside me. "Word is spreading fast. Some groups are starting to see you as a hero, while others suspect something is off."

That was exactly what I wanted. Misdirection, control through perception.

"They need to see me as their best option," I replied. "Not as a tyrant, not as a slave to the UNO, but as someone who's looking out for them."

He nodded. "And the next collection?"

"That's what we need to discuss."

---

A New Plan Takes Shape

Inside the war room, a crude map of the surrounding territories was spread across the table. My inner circle—Ray, Daniel, Lily, and a few trusted fighters—gathered around as I outlined our next steps.

"The UNO expects another tax shipment by the end of the week," I began. "We'll give it to them, but at a cost."

Daniel, ever the strategist, crossed his arms. "They're already watching us closely. If we make a wrong move—"

"I know. But we're not going to resist them outright. We're going to make them look bad."

Lily arched an eyebrow. "How?"

I gestured to the map. "We visit the struggling groups first, offer them protection, and make it clear that any suffering is because of the UNO's demands—not ours. When we collect, we ensure that they see us as reluctant enforcers, not oppressors."

Ray smirked. "You're turning them against the UNO while doing their job."

"Exactly."

Daniel exhaled sharply. "That's risky. If they catch on—"

"They won't. Because we control the story."

---

The Tax Collection Begins

The first stop was a medium-sized survivor group struggling to keep their supplies intact. Their leader, a weathered woman named Marla, met us with cautious eyes.

"We don't have much," she said. "The last raid took half our food, and sickness is spreading."

I sighed, feigning frustration. "I understand, Marla. This isn't my choice. UNO demands a percentage, and if I don't deliver, they'll send someone worse."

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty. "Then why work for them?"

"Because if I don't, they'll put someone else in charge—someone who won't care if you live or die."

Marla exchanged looks with her people. They were scared, desperate. But I had to make sure they saw me as an ally.

"I'll tell you what," I said. "I'll take the bare minimum, just enough to make it look like we're following orders. But in return, we help each other."

Her jaw tightened. "What do you mean?"

I leaned in slightly. "You tell your people who the real enemy is. You let them know that I'm trying to keep you safe. When the time comes, we'll push back together."

She hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, James. We'll work with you."

I signaled my men to take only a small portion of supplies, leaving most of their rations intact. As we left, murmurs spread through the crowd. The seeds of doubt in the UNO's rule had been planted.

---

Unexpected Resistance

By the time we reached the third settlement, trouble was brewing. A small but well-armed faction was waiting for us. Their leader, a former military officer named Grayson, stood at the center of his people, arms crossed.

"You expect us to just hand over our hard-earned supplies?" he sneered. "You're no better than the UNO."

I met his gaze evenly. "I don't like it either, but the reality is that if we refuse, they'll send forces to take everything."

He scoffed. "Sounds like you're just another pawn."

Ray tensed beside me, but I held up a hand. "Think about it, Grayson. If I refuse to collect, UNO wipes me out and replaces me with someone worse. If you refuse to give anything, they'll send a full squad and strip you bare."

He narrowed his eyes. "So what's your solution?"

"We play the game until we can change the rules."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, with a reluctant sigh, Grayson motioned for his people to comply. "I hope you know what you're doing, James."

"So do I."

---

A Dangerous Meeting

The next day, a UNO representative arrived to inspect the collection. A sharp-dressed man named Cole, with calculating eyes and a permanent smirk.

"You've done well," he mused, checking the inventory. "Efficient."

I remained neutral. "Just doing my job."

His gaze lingered on me. "And yet, some of these groups seem… less resentful than expected."

I forced a casual shrug. "Fear makes people obedient."

Cole chuckled. "Indeed. But let's make sure they stay afraid, shall we?"

A subtle threat. I clenched my fists internally but maintained my composure. "Of course."

As he left, Ray exhaled. "He's onto us."

"Let him be. As long as we control the perception, we control the game."

---

James Reflections and Thoughts

I stood atop the watchtower that night, staring at the ruined landscape. The world had changed, and morality was no longer black and white. I had chosen a path of deception, of manipulation, because outright rebellion would be suicide.

But how long could I keep walking this line?

Was I truly better than the UNO, or was I just another player in their game?

And when the time came to choose between survival and morality—what would I become?

Author Thoughts:

James is navigating an incredibly complex world where morality is blurred. His choice to manipulate public perception is both strategic and dangerous. What would you do in his position? Would you try to resist outright, even at the cost of lives? Or would you play the long game, knowing the risk of becoming the very thing you hate?

The balance between power and righteousness is a thin one. Which side would you choose?