When the Possessive Omega Fell for Me - Chapter 59

“Mahira?” Yi Jing was startled, abruptly raising her gaze to meet Yu Miao’s.

Had the Yi family’s influence already penetrated to this extent? Was this person also compromised?

She wasn’t surprised that Mahira had abused her power for personal gain or engaged in underhanded dealings in governance—after all, she’d long known Mahira was backed by the Yi family. But she never expected Mahira to be involved in such egregious misconduct.

The old faction hadn’t even taken office yet. Wasn’t she afraid of being held accountable if the election failed?

As Yi Jing processed the situation, she grew increasingly frustrated to realize she hadn’t even noticed the issues between Heng’en Group and the medical system.

For one, her tenure had been short, and civil affairs were largely handled by the legal-political branch, outside her jurisdiction. She’d had neither the time nor the opportunity to investigate the medical system. Secondly—the original novel hadn’t mentioned any of this at all!

Just how much had happened outside the plot?

Why did they only write about useless things!

Suppressing her irritation and self-reproach, Yi Jing silently cursed the original story. After a moment of frowning contemplation, she had to admit Yu Miao’s revelation wasn’t unreasonable.

Before running for mayor, Mahira had been the head of the medical department, overseeing healthcare regulations and market supervision. Reporting directly to the mayor, she’d had ample opportunity to interact with the Yi family.

If Heng’en Group, specializing in pharmaceuticals, wanted to manipulate the industry’s rules and secure market dominance, they couldn’t have bypassed Mahira and the mayor.

Add to that the openly acknowledged collusion between the mayor and the Yi family, and Mahira’s replacement of the former mayor as the Yi family’s supported candidate only confirmed that these three parties were a single interest group…

She’d been far too negligent.

She should have realized the Yi family wouldn’t stake their deep-rooted dominance in Jing’an City on just one sector—they’d naturally drag as many people into their orbit as possible.

The more entrenched they became, the more unshakable their position, until they were an inseparable part of Jing’an’s foundational infrastructure.

By then, even if someone uncovered concrete evidence of the Yi family’s corruption and held leverage over them, the staggering cost of a full investigation would give higher authorities pause. They’d proceed with extreme caution, never daring to fully dismantle the Yi family.

What a ruthless clan. No wonder they’d endured in Jing’an for so long, becoming the shadowy antagonist no one in the novel dared name openly.

But Yi Jing would never—could never—back down just because the price was high. If the Yi family wanted to secure their eternal reign, she would refuse to let them thrive any longer.

After a moment of deep thought, Yi Jing met Yu Miao’s gaze. “We have to stop Mahira’s campaign. She can’t become mayor.”

“Hm?” Yu Miao looked up, curiosity and warmth in her expression as she waited for Yi Jing to elaborate.

Frowning, Yi Jing slowly organized her thoughts and began to explain:

“Unlike the current mayor, Mahira is still young and will likely remain in power for quite some time, leaving her ample opportunities to make significant changes.

If she had already formed deep-seated financial entanglements with the Yi family before taking office, many future policy decisions in Jing’an City would inevitably be influenced by the Yi family—or perhaps even by Patriarch Yi alone. The entire city might end up operating around the interests of the Yi family.

The Yi family is already formidable enough as it is; we absolutely cannot allow their influence to expand further.”

Yi Jing spoke earnestly, unaware of Yu Miao’s expression.

Yu Miao watched Yi Jing quietly, her gaze carefully tracing every nuance in his expression, her demeanor unconsciously softening.

“What do you plan to do?” Yu Miao asked softly.

“Hmm… perhaps we could start with the evidence we already have?” Yi Jing turned to look at Yu Miao.

Yu Miao nodded slightly and replied, “I do have quite a few records of illegal dealings between Heng’en Group, the mayor, and Mahira. But these records primarily implicate the mayor, so exposing them would inevitably involve him.

Moreover, these documents don’t directly implicate the Yi family—they only prove that the mayor and Mahira engaged in underhanded dealings during their tenure. If we were to release them now. I’m concerned about how effective they’d actually be.”

“Oh? How so?” Yi Jing asked.

“These records are too complex and involve too many parties. If we were to expose them at this stage, Heng’en, Mahira, and the mayor would all be dragged into the scandal.

If they were to form a united front against us, we’d likely face retaliation from multiple sides, including the Yi family. It might even affect the election itself.

Mahira might lose the race, but we’d also be tipping our hand too early, exposing ourselves and alerting the Yi family.

These documents could still be useful later—it’s not worth burning them all on this small battle.”

Yi Jing thought for a moment and nodded. “You’re right. The real goal is to take down the Yi family behind Mahira and the mayor. Stopping Mahira’s campaign is just a means to weaken the Yi family—they’re the real target. So for now, we’ll have to find other ways to disrupt Mahira’s campaign.”

Yu Miao gently reminded him, “Didn’t you mention earlier that your boss’s speech outline targets Mahira?”

“Huh? Oh, right, I did. That could actually be useful.”

Yi Jing frowned in thought, murmuring:

“Delink’s speech outline explicitly questions Jing’an City’s current healthcare system, and Mahira herself won’t be spared. If we can uncover something concrete, we could use his public criticism as leverage. After his first speech, we could gradually release our findings during the twelve-day review period to support his claims and push Mahira toward defeat.

That means our immediate priority is to find evidence of Mahira’s misconduct based on what we already know. Ideally, we’d link her to Heng’en Group, focusing on how she exploited her authority over healthcare regulations to engage in underhanded dealings and collude with medical corporations for personal gain.”

Targeting Mashira alone might not trigger widespread investigations or retaliation. Plus, with Drink covering for us, the success rate is high.”

Yu Miao pondered and said, “I can contact people within the organization. Their structure is loose, but they have a very reliable hacker group.”

Yi Jing blinked, momentarily pulling her thoughts away from the matter at hand, and turned to Yu Miao with a hint of subtle jealousy: “Is it the group that hacked the Third District’s surveillance system?”

Yu Miao paused and looked up at Yi Jing.

Though Yi Jing didn’t mention any names, both of them knew she was referring to the incident where Zhao Qin ‘accidentally’ fell into the river and died.

It was the first case Yi Jing had ever given up on without fully resolving, and also the first time Yu Miao had collaborated with the organization.

Though they had already come clean with each other, they rarely brought up past events. Yu Miao was a little worried Yi Jing might mind.

Hesitantly, Yu Miao glanced over and noticed Yi Jing was also looking at her with a mix of nervousness and caution, as if trying to gauge whether she would still prioritize running off to others first.

Yu Miao was taken aback, suddenly realizing they were both harboring the same concern.

The discovery that the other was equally worried made Yu Miao relax instantly. She couldn’t help but chuckle softly, her eyes curving into crescents as she leaned closer to Yi Jing and whispered, “It’s them, but don’t worry—I won’t sneak off to find them anymore.”

Yi Jing’s expression softened slightly. “On my end, I can provide all the information on Mashira’s campaign team. With the election underway, my position as a public regulator means everyone’s watching me. Any unusual movement would alert all three campaign teams, so I can’t act directly.”

Yu Miao nodded. “That’s fine, it’s enough. I doubt Mashira’s campaign team is entirely clean either. Given her ties to Hengen Group, she’s bound to have done something to boost her chances.”

Yi Jing nodded in agreement, then after a moment asked, “Do you media folks have any experience with this kind of thing?”

Yu Miao raised an eyebrow, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Now you remember my expertise?”

“Just asking—maybe you have some ideas, sis?” Yi Jing grinned and nuzzled into Yu Miao’s arms like an affectionate puppy. “I’ve heard about you before. My colleagues said you were the best at shaping public opinion and uncovering the truth. Anyone who earned your endorsement would see their political reputation soar.”

Yu Miao couldn’t help but laugh. “That was in the past. I haven’t done any reporting in a long time. But right now, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Yi Jing lifted her head but didn’t respond, her expression turning somber and complex as she gazed at Yu Miao. After a long pause, she murmured, “It’ll be like before again someday. Once everything’s over, I’ll make sure you get back to being who you were. The career you loved won’t be taken from you.”

Yu Miao froze, staring at Yi Jing for a long moment before finally letting out a soft chuckle. “…Yeah.”

“Ahem.” Yi Jing rubbed the tip of her nose, suddenly feeling the atmosphere had grown a little awkward, and steered the conversation back. “So, about Mashira—what’s your plan?”

“Hmm…” Yu Miao pondered for a moment before steering the conversation back on track according to Yi Jing’s line of thought, responding quietly, “Let’s start the investigation from the grassroots level.”

“Oh?” Yi Jing was momentarily taken aback, raising her eyes to look at Yu Miao.

Yu Miao gave a soft laugh as she met Yi Jing’s gaze. “The healthcare system directly impacts people’s livelihoods. Any slight bias in its policies or fund allocations can affect countless lives—even determine who gets to survive. A thorough investigation would undoubtedly uncover usable cases.”

“From Mahira and Heng’en’s perspective, they might just be making choices that slightly favor their own interests. But votes lie in the people’s hands, and systemic loopholes directly impact them too.”

“Nothing resonates more than misfortunes that could befall anyone at any moment. In such situations, those responsible for these ‘misfortunes’ inevitably become public enemies.”

Yi Jing paused, then spoke slowly in contemplation: “Losing public trust over such circumstances is the hardest to recover from—because she’s genuinely harmed people. Voters would naturally wonder how many more might suffer from her self-serving decisions if she comes to power.”

“Exactly,” Yu Miao nodded. “All humans worry most about threats to their immediate safety. Exposing Mahira’s actions this way would have far greater impact than simply listing her misconducts or explaining how much she profited from backdoor deals.”

Yi Jing’s thoughts expanded as she rested her chin on one hand. “We might even mobilize public opinion—urge citizens to petition for a full investigation that pressures the oversight committee to examine the health ministry. Then I could formally request intervention.”

Yu Miao’s eyes curved in a smile. “Perhaps. It wouldn’t take much—just a little push to get the ball rolling.”

“Perfect! That means our immediate priority is finding evidence of Mahira’s undisclosed dealings with Heng’en Group—proof she gave them preferential treatment in healthcare policies for personal gain.”

Yi Jing clenched her right fist into her left palm emphatically.

“Not ‘our’ priority—the organization’s,” Yu Miao corrected. “I don’t have the resources, though I can assist with the exposure part. You can’t investigate them directly either—just pass whatever information you obtain to the hackers. Unearthing hidden data is their specialty.”

“No rush,” Yi Jing said with a sly smile. “There might still be ways I can help. From what I’ve observed, veteran politicians love forming alliances during elections—either to strengthen their position or conspire against rivals.”

“After the first rally, there’ll be countless such dinners requiring my attendance. I could try bringing organization members along.”

Yu Miao looked up in surprise. “But that would permanently tie you to the organization. Are you really willing to take that risk?”

“Risk?” Yi Jing replied calmly. “When I decided to do this, I never planned an exit strategy.”

Meeting Yu Miao’s gaze with determination, she added: “I see things through to the end—no matter what obstacles arise.”

Yu Miao was visibly moved as she looked back at Yi Jing. After a moment of silence, she smiled softly, took his hand, and whispered, “Alright then, happy cooperation.”

“Of course,” Yi Jing replied with a smile in his eyes, returning the handshake firmly.

—Two days later.

The first debate and campaign rally for the mayoral election officially commenced. The Art Plaza had been reopened ten hours prior, with judicial and public security teams successively entering to inspect equipment and security arrangements. Across the city, advertisements and promotional videos were temporarily suspended on over half of the large screens along main streets and central commercial districts, all standing by to broadcast the upcoming campaign event downtown.

The stage was packed with citizens who had come to witness the live speeches, the crowd buzzing with anticipation.

Seated in a swivel chair with a backrest taller than a person, Yi Jing observed the crowd before the stage through surveillance feeds that covered the entire venue, both inside and out. There were too many people; it was hard to distinguish which were their allies.

But Yu Miao had indeed mentioned that some from their organization would blend into the crowd.

He wondered where they might be hiding. Surely not just mingling among the masses?

Yi Jing scanned the surveillance footage, trying to spot any movement from their operatives. No luck. Instead, a joint communication request from the public security team came through at that moment.

“Hello?” Yi Jing answered the call, waving a hand at his colleagues nearby to signal they should continue working.

“Hey, it’s me. How’s it going on your end?” Qi Xiao’s voice carried a hint of wind noise, along with the faint whine of a low-flying aircraft, prompting Yi Jing to glance up at the surveillance screen.

Qi Xiao was stationed at an open sniper post directly opposite the Art Plaza, his long hair tied into a high ponytail. Unusually, he wasn’t wearing his imposing police uniform but had opted for a streamlined combat suit, equipped with an array of long- and short-range gear.

“All normal here,” Yi Jing replied, checking the surveillance feed and the data monitoring module displayed on the central screen.

This module was directly linked to the vote-counting hub, sharing real-time data with the election preparation team to monitor ballot fluctuations. Additionally, Yi Jing had access to a risk detection module connected to the three campaign offices. Any irregular data flow would immediately lock the corresponding team’s observation privileges until the issue was resolved.

But voting hadn’t started yet, so the visualization module showed no fluctuations.

“The official speeches haven’t begun—no anomalies so far,” Yi Jing adjusted the terminal on his ear, stood up, and switched the central screen to a view of the plaza’s perimeter. “What about you? Why aren’t you at the aerial command center overseeing operations?”

Security measures during the election were stringent. Besides Yi Jing, stationed underground to monitor data and the plaza’s surroundings, there was another command center in the sky—a dedicated aircraft circling above the Art Center, maintaining aerial dominance.

This was the public security team’s responsibility, ensuring high mobility to deploy forces instantly in case of emergencies, protecting both citizens and candidates.

“The chief is over there,” Qi Xiao casually replied through the comms. “It’s fine if I’m not commanding. After working nonstop for over ten hours, I’m afraid any mishap would be blamed on me. It’s nice to get some fresh air here.”

“He sure knows how to take the easy way out,” Yi Jing remarked offhandedly.

From the moment the art square was unsealed until now—nearly ten hours through the night—Yi Jing and Qi Xiao had endured it together.

The busiest period was the final security sweep, with numerous items requiring confirmation. But as the election drew closer, the workload would actually decrease.

After such intensive checks, the election venue would be virtually problem-free.

Most assassinations and accidents occurred during the twelve-day voting period between the first debate and the second speech—usually due to the candidates’ own missteps. Whether forming alliances, leaving vulnerabilities, or failing to keep their schedules confidential, opponents would seize the opportunity to eliminate them.

Now, the biggest concern was the election itself.

Yi Jing’s gaze shifted subtly, moving from the live footage of the crowd to the backstage area.

The candidates’ private rooms weren’t publicly accessible, but Yi Jing could see the outgoing mayor preparing to deliver his opening speech.

With less than an hour until Delink’s appearance, would he really refrain from making those remarks about Mahira outlined in his notes?

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