Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 163: Shot Fired
The oppressive heat of the Panamanian jungle seemed heavier in the days following the tense standoff with Captain Ramirez and his Gran Colombian soldiers. Despite the uneasy truce, the atmosphere on-site grew more charged. Amerathian troops remained vigilant, their presence a steady reassurance to the workers and engineers laboring to prepare the canal’s construction. But the tension that lingered after Ramirez’s warning was undeniable.
Matthew Hesh and his team pressed on, unwilling to let fear stall their progress. Surveying teams moved deeper into the jungle, marking potential lock sites and clearing paths for future excavation. Amber continued her efforts alongside Matthew, organizing logistics and ensuring the workers had what they needed. The project felt monumental, but the shadow of conflict loomed larger every day.
One sweltering afternoon, just as the workers began to break for lunch, a commotion erupted near the camp’s western edge. Shouts carried through the thick air, followed by the sound of horses and the sharp bark of orders in Spanish. Matthew, who had been reviewing maps with Bellamont, immediately straightened.
"What’s going on?" Amber asked, already on her feet.
Matthew didn’t hesitate. "Stay here. I’ll find out."
"No," Amber said firmly, grabbing her wide-brimmed hat. "I’m coming with you."
Realizing there was no point in arguing, Matthew nodded, and the two hurried toward the source of the disturbance. As they approached, they saw a group of Gran Colombian soldiers on horseback surrounding a cluster of frightened workers and surveyors. The soldiers barked orders, their rifles slung casually over their shoulders but held in a way that made their threat clear.
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Matthew’s stomach sank as he pushed through the crowd of Amerathian guards and workers. He raised his hands, keeping his voice calm but firm.
"What is the meaning of this?"
One of the soldiers, a younger man with a scar running down his cheek, sneered. "These men," he gestured to the workers, "are trespassing on Gran Colombian land. We are here to escort them off."
Matthew’s jaw tightened. "This land is not your territory. Panama is under the governance of the Panamanian people, and these workers are here as part of an agreed effort to develop this region. Your interference is unwarranted."
The soldier’s expression hardened. "Your so-called ’agreement’ means nothing. We warned you to leave, and yet here you are. Now we will take these men with us."
Behind the soldiers, Matthew spotted three foreign engineers—men from Europe who had joined the project for their expertise—being held at gunpoint. One of them, a Frenchman named Armand, looked particularly distressed as he pleaded with the soldiers in broken Spanish.
"Let them go," Matthew demanded, his voice sharp. "You have no authority to detain anyone here."
The soldier with the scar laughed coldly. "Authority? You think your Amerathian guards can protect you? They cannot stop us. We will make an example of these trespassers."
"Amber—call the troops now!" Matthew ordered.
Amber didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran toward the central camp, where the Amerathian soldiers were stationed. Matthew, his heart pounding, stepped closer to the Gran Colombian soldiers, his arms raised in a placating gesture.
"Let’s not escalate this," he said, his voice steady but firm. "These are innocent workers and engineers. They’re here to build, not fight."
The soldier with the scar sneered. "Innocent? They’re trespassers aiding a rebellion. They’ll answer for their actions."
The surrounding workers, visibly terrified, whispered among themselves. Some tried to inch backward, but the soldiers quickly barked orders to keep them in place. Matthew’s eyes flicked toward Armand, who was trembling, the barrel of a rifle still pointed at him.
The tension broke when the sound of boots thudding against the jungle floor reached the clearing. Captain Hayes, leading a contingent of Amerathian troops, stormed into view. Their rifles were raised, and their expressions were grim. Amber followed close behind, her face flushed from exertion.
"Stand down!" Hayes barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "This area is under Amerathian protection. Release the workers immediately."
The Gran Colombian soldiers shifted uncomfortably, their hands twitching near their weapons. Captain Ramirez, who had apparently arrived unnoticed, stepped forward from the shadows, his expression icy.
"You’re making a mistake, Captain," Ramirez said coldly, addressing Hayes. "These men are criminals on sovereign Gran Colombian soil. We are within our rights to detain them."
"This is Panamanian territory," Hayes shot back. "And any attempt to harm or kidnap civilians under our protection will be considered an act of aggression. Do you want to start a war here and now?"
"How many times must I repeat myself? There is no Panamanian territory! There is only Gran Colombia! Your so-called independence movement is nothing more than a farce, fueled by foreign interference!"
His words drew murmurs from his soldiers, their grips tightening on their rifles. Behind him, one of the younger soldiers nervously shifted his weight, glancing at his comrades for reassurance.
Captain Hayes didn’t flinch, his posture as rigid as steel. "Your opinions don’t change the reality on the ground. Amerathia recognizes Panama’s sovereignty, and we are here to protect its people and ensure the safety of this project. If you or your men take one step further, you’ll be the one escalating this into something neither of us can control."
The two captains stared each other down, their words cutting deeper with each exchange. The workers and engineers huddled nearby, trembling with fear. Matthew, standing between the groups, raised his hands again in a desperate attempt to defuse the situation.
"Gentlemen," Matthew said, his voice loud and clear, "there is nothing to gain from violence here. Let’s all take a step back and talk this through. We’re not enemies. We’re just men trying to do our jobs."
Ramirez’s jaw tightened as he turned his cold gaze to Matthew. "You may speak of peace, Mr. Hesh, but your actions are anything but peaceful. You bring foreign soldiers onto our land, build fortifications, and claim to be working for Panama’s benefit. All I see is another nation trying to carve up what doesn’t belong to them." Find exclusive stories on novelbuddy
Amber stepped forward, her voice steady but strained. "Captain Ramirez, if this canal is completed, it will benefit everyone in the region, including Gran Colombia. No one here wants war. Why can’t we focus on the potential for cooperation instead of conflict?"
Ramirez’s eyes flickered toward Amber, a brief flash of something unreadable crossing his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, one of his younger soldiers—his nerves clearly frayed—stepped forward, his rifle shaking in his hands.
"This is all a trap!" the young soldier shouted, his voice cracking. "They’re here to take everything from us!"
The sudden outburst drew the attention of everyone in the clearing. Hayes’s men tensed, their rifles aimed but still undischarged. Ramirez turned sharply to his soldier, his face darkening with fury.
"Stand down, Private!" Ramirez barked, his voice like thunder. "You will not act without orders!"
But it was too late. The soldier, his fear overtaking reason, gritted his teeth and raised his rifle higher, the barrel now pointing directly at one of the Amerathian guards.
"No one takes what belongs to Gran Colombia!" the young soldier screamed as his finger twitched on the trigger.
The crack of a gunshot split the air.