Dried fish and meager pagpag was standard morning fare for many Filipinos. Though Renee and others fortunate (or greedy) enough may be lucky, not everyone has the chance to have multitudes for breakfast. The same situation goes for Juvena and her guests, who served sardinas secas, broth made from vegetable scraps and a small pot of rice. As Adrienne was nursed and Sanchez was awoken from his slumber, Juvena prepared the table, setting the plates and wooden cutlery. This was a rarity for her, considering how rarely people dine in her house.

Adrienne was served her own rice and soup, while the rest sat around the table served themselves on wooden plates. It was quiet, although only moments earlier there was a near gunfight. However, again, as Crisanto was scooping a small amount of rice, Sanchez broke the silence and pointed at him, remarking an I know you.

Crisanto put down his plate and faced Sanchez.

"Do you, now? Well, I'm not exactly famous in the province of Manila, so I'd have to ask, from where though?"

"Guelio. Guelio!"

Sanchez said to call his friend's attention "Remember the guy I said who knew somebody with a printing press?"

"I distinctly remember. You haven't exactly told me since Nueva Donostia. I'm still wondering who he is."

Sanchez leaned towards him from across the table and almost whispered: "It's him."

Guelio, though with no signs of surprise, was visibly smirking. "Well that's serendipitous, is it not Crisanto? It almost feels like everything is a coincidence. No small thanks to you I presume."

Crisanto nodded slyly. Renee, Rodrigo and Juvena, all of whom were in the dark over all that was happening had their brows somewhat furrowed as they tried comprehending the situation. It was Renee who took the initiative to shed more light on it.

"Before anything else, who is this guy...", she said pointing to the uniformed man, but forgetting his name. It didn't really register in her psyche.

"General Crisanto Rodel", the man clarified.

She rolled her eyes before continuing

"Crisanto, and how is he important in all of this?"

Guelio and Crisanto looked each other in the eye. It was like they were planning something mischievous but only through their two-second long gaze into each other. Guelio looked away poker-faced, while Crisanto had a grim smirk on his face.

"Señor, the honour is yours.", said Guelio.

 "Gracias, mi compadre. Damas y caballeros, mi llamo Crisanto Rodel, Heneral dela Guardia Civil Veterana en Manila, y amigo del pais y revolucion Filipino [Thank you, my friend. Ladies and gentlemen, I am Crisanto Rodel, General of the Manila Civil Guard and friend of the Philippine nation and revolution]"

He stood up in an elegant fashion, something that seemingly all pompous generals share, but something was different with Crisanto.

"As you may see from my uniform, I am naught but a Spanish commander. A guardia civil. To some of you, tantamount to a demon." He put special emphasis on demon, while looking at Juvena and Guelio.

"But what you may not know is that I am sympathetic to the cause. Skipping the cliche of how great Rizal is, or how noble and forlorn the history of the country is, I am a Filipino, and it is my job to fight this revolution."

"Then why are you on the other side?", Renee questioned, with Juvena nodding beside her.

Crisanto couldn't help but laugh, almost like in controlled hysteria, before calmly collecting himself and sighing.

"Ah. The million peso question. You see, ñora, I wasn't always Spanish. I wasn't always a.. cabron, either. But sometime between the past and the present, due to a series of unfortunate circumstances such as death, betrayal and simple stupidity, I became a general in Spain and now in the Philippines."

"It isn't my choice to take orders from scatter brains and disseminate them to corporals and captains with the intelligence of an ylang-ylang plant. But nonetheless, since I have a position in power, no matter how useless it all really is, it does give me the chance to redeem the faults of a life I was force to leave behind. Ergo, this little situation we have here."

Guelio, quite excitedly, then took the mantle to exposit the goings-on that they have agreed upon.

"I started to correspond with Crisanto in Barcelona, although I knew him then as Casanova. We had similar interest in the fervour of the Filipinos, as well as the growing radical movement in España. A simple letter, became a post mail equivalent of a broadsheet, covering multiple topics, not least of revolution.

Soon, Heneral Rodel was installed as the second-in-command of the Guardia Veterana, with the only higher-up being Francisco Pintos in the Guardia Civil, Echaluce in the entire army and Polavieja himself. This explain his in-depth knowledge on Spanish military maneuvers and, of course, the activities of rebellious and reformist elements, including arms and printing presses."

Crisanto then took the opportunity once more to clarify his doing to the team. 

"In addition to that, I have friends in the shadier circles of Intramuros, the circles Sanchez may know. Aside from that, I was specifically assigned in Barcelona, a reformist hub and quite ironically, San Sebastian town in Euskadi. So I am adept to the business of revolution."

The three seemed satisfied with such an answer. Their breakfast was slowly being consumed as the discussion continued, while Crisanto, Guelio and sometimes Sanchez would iron over some details of their meetings.

 Juvena, who herself was a revolutionary, albeit in secret, decided to squeeze some information from the General. If he knew so much about Guelio's plan, surely representative of a move by remaining ilustrados joven in Spain, then what else did he know about the movement?

"So what are your plans with Anagolay over here, and what do you wish to happen?"

"We brought extracts of pamphlets and flyers from Spain. These were written by some Spanish Republicans, former Propagandists and even some Filipino students with a clear message of telling the Filipino people, in multiple languages: Visaya, Tagalog, Ilokano and Spanish, to stand up and fight for the Motherland." 

Discreetly hidden in our suitcases, though somehow scattered along the way, causing a minor altercation at the bay," continued Guelio glancing for a moment at Rodrigo, 

"we have compiled together and decide to reproduce them here. We have decided to name it Nosotros Contra el Mundo. Tayo laban sa mundo. "

"Since presses in Manila are rare, as only newspapers have the clearance to have them, we have no choice but to take one by ourselves. One of them, named the Hispania, is subject to a pending criminal case because their Spanish owners committed some crime that irked the Guardia Civil in Salamanca. They ordered us in Manila to confiscate all their wealth and businesses, including the newspaper equipment.

We were supposed to arrest and confiscate the equipment two days ago. But it feels like Guelio has the sadistic thrill of ruining our plans and jamming the time frame we have up our sorry asses."

Juvena clarified: "And your plan is to distribute it across the different parts of the country from Manila, the most safeguarded location in the entire Philippine Islands? Do you think that is even possible?"

"Yes, actually. Since the specifics of the plan has changed since our first meeting with Guelio, first we have to confiscate the press, send it to a hidden location near San Juan, I presume. Then, we start printing at least a hundred copies, one for every barrio it will be distributed to and finally wait for the mechanism to start turning."

"And what mechanism do you expect to move, General? Surely there isn't an organization in the entire country which will readily accept the ideas of these pamphlets. If they had one in their hands, they'd rather burn it than actually read them, assuming the Guardias don't catch hold of it."

Crisanto took note of the woman. Strong-willed, soft but firm voice and the ability to think on her feet. She clearly is one of them. It wasn't a mistake to let her escape arrest after the feud in the middle of the plaza in Santa Cruz, near Intramuros. 'They have really been lucky in recruiting worthy members for the cause', Crisanto thought to himself.

"Actually, you know very well that such a group exists Señora Santa Clara."

Juvena shifted herself on the seat awkwardly before saying, "What do you mean by that Rodel? Are you accusing me of being a tulisan?"

Crisanto responded by giving his outstretched hand to Juvena. Juvena not knowing what to do, hesitated at first, before shaking his hand too with Crisanto. Soon his hand moved forcing Juvena to do the same. It was almost second nature for the first member of the womens' chapter and president of the Palanyag balangay of the K.K.K.A.N.B. to move in the handshake only few are taught, yet she was surprised as Crisanto Rodel, a member of the Spanish Guardia Civil, completed the sign of the Katipuan with not a single fault.

When they pulled back, Crisanto went ahead and began eating his somewhat tepid fish. Juvena was able to catch a glimpse of his smirk as he dipped the fish in salt and vinegar and chewed the rice in his mouth.

'This man. The epitome of Spanish pomp and circumstance, is our grey eminence. He is our brother in revolution,' Juvena thought to herself, as she finished her last morsels of breakfast.

"Now that we've clarified things, let's get this business shall we?", Guelio said, with grains of rice still on his lips.