Restart:Untalented Man

A few days later, as Agent Nerdwolf expected, a new order arrived for him and his fellow agents. The days of uncertainty and inaction finally came to an end.

While the assignment wasn't particularly hard or complicated, it did require a significant amount of manpower.

It seemed that the government had finally decided to respond to the succession movement that had been gripping the eastern provinces.

Inside their base in Vofors, the atmosphere was filled with tension and busyness despite the time being eight in the morning.

The large room was abuzz with activity as agents scurried around, sorting through bulks of paper that had been brought in.

Desks were piled high with documents, and the walls were adorned with maps and charts, detailing the regions affected by the succession movement. The maps on the wall were marked with various symbols, denoting areas of concern and potential hotspots.

The air was thick with the smell of ink and the sound of shuffling papers.

Agents moved around the base with a sense of urgency. Every single one of them understood the gravity of the situation.

Rows of meticulously organized wooden desks were filled with agent. Each one was equipped with a lamp to provide the necessary illumination for their work.

As the agents continued to sort through the documents, their conversations were hushed, filled with codes and references to locations and individuals.

"Alright, listen up!" a voice began to cut through the hustle and bustle of the base, forcing all presence there to pay attention to him.

The voice belonged to the [Secret Spy] rank agent, the highest-ranking agent available at the moment. He had been entrusted with the responsibility of leading this operation.

Naturally, the said agent purposely speak with an authoritative tone as he addressed the assembled agents.

"There are two objectives we have to accomplish. The first is to divert the anger of the people in Vofors away from the government and onto the grain producers and the former Republica leaders. The link between them must be clear to the public. This mission is relatively straightforward, rated as a D-rank mission, so I will leave it to the [Informer] agents."

He continued, "Once we successfully divert their anger, the next mission will begin immediately. I will leave the elimination of former Republica leaders in the capable hands of our [Assassin] rank agents."

His piercing gaze fell upon Nerdwolf, Wheatman, and the other [Assassin] rank agents in the room. He then turned his attention to the rest of the [Recruit] ranks agents who were not directly involved in the mission's execution.

"The rest of you, the [Recruit] agents, will spread out throughout the city. You will become our eyes and ears. Some of our targets might attempt to escape, and we're counting on you to prevent that. Is everyone clear?"

A resounding chorus of "Yes, sir!" filled the room.

--- A/N---

SIN's ranking system

[Recruit]->[Informer]->[Saboteur]->[Assasin]->[Secret Spy]->[Deputy Director]->[Director]

------------

With a shared understanding of their roles and responsibilities, the agents dispersed to carry out their assignments.

Under the cover of night, as the chaos of the day began to wane, the agents finally emerged from their concealed positions, each holding a stack of printed papers.

The headlines on these pamphlets were designed to grab the attention of the public and provoke curiosity and anger such as "They Plan to Screw You Over!", "Unmasking the Culprits Behind the Grain Crisis!" and "Your Real Enemy"

The content within these pamphlets aimed to reveal the root cause of the grain crisis and to redirect the public's anger away from the government and towards the grain producers. 

Both simplified and detailed versions of the information were prepared, ensuring that the message could be accessible to all. 

They also exposed the connections between the leaders of the revolution and these merchants, adding a layer of distrust toward their leader. 

In the silence of the night, they worked quickly and meticulously. As stealthy as they can be, the agents affixed this damning information in every possible nook and cranny throughout the city. Alleyways, lampposts, public squares, and even the grand facades of prominent grain producers' offices were not spared.

Every agent knew the importance of this first step. They needed to ensure that by the first light of the next day, the people of Vofors would wake up and meet with a different perspective on their predicament. 

....

The next morning, as the sun began to cast its gentle glow over Vofors, the city's usual routine of protests and gatherings began.

However, today was different.

As the protesters marched through the familiar streets, their eyes were met with an unexpected sight.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of papers covered the streets, plastered on lampposts, walls, and even the cobbled walkways.

Curiosity piqued, and many people paused in their tracks to read the content written on these papers. Their expressions ranged from shock to disbelief as the truth revealed itself on the pages before them.

"What the..." one protester muttered, baffled and outraged.

Some reacted with anger, their fists clenching involuntarily. These were the same people who they thought to be their leaders in the fight for justice, or so they had thought.

Now, it appeared that they had been used as pawns in a larger game.

Regardless their thought process were, the sense of betrayal was indeed very overwhelming.

Anger surged through them, like a storm gathering on the horizon. A deep, burning resentment begin to brewed from within.

The atmosphere crackled with outrage. Their furious expressions demanded answers and they were not willing to accept silence as a response. 

The city's usual noise was punctuated by discussions, arguments, and furious exclamations as the people grappled with the shocking information before them.

Amid the tumultuous sea of emotions, one voice rose above the rest.  "We should directly ask these people!" the individual declared, their voice carrying an undertone of rage.

"You're right!" The words seemed to resonate with those nearby.

A collective decision emerged. They had marched together countless times before, but today's march held a vastly different purpose.