The military operation against the major gangs in the slums continued until midnight.
The First Corps deployed two thousand-man units, committing fifty-two wheeled armored vehicles and twelve No. 1 tanks.
Boulder City's militia initially dispatched two thousand-man units, later increasing that to three.
Against gangs holed up in the slums, such overwhelming military might was undeniably using artillery to swat flies.
Quite a few survivors shared that sentiment.
Yet as the Administrator put it, the gang factions festering in the slums had become breeding grounds for marauders and vice.
They maintained a semblance of order, yet were also the root of all chaos in Qingquan City.
Unless this problem was rooted out entirely, wiping out marauder tribes was futile; those bastards would just keep respawning like wild monsters.
This chronic ailment had festered for over a century; it demanded drastic medicine.
The Alliance was not just going to blast these flies to pieces with heavy artillery—it was going to make sure everyone nursing dark ambitions heard the roar, so they could watch exactly how those flies died!
Thus, the corps showed no mercy, rounding up anyone who resisted with weapons or bore gang tattoos.
The sheer number of people implicated was far greater than anyone had imagined.
From the Dagger Gang alone, a thousand men were rounded up, while the second-largest gang, the Dean Gang, yielded over eight hundred, and the Poison Gang another six hundred.
A dense sea of prisoners stood outside Boulder City's gate, tied tightly together ten to a rope, with another crowd gathered beneath the distant overpass.
His head held down, Jeff was bewildered himself. The gang members he routinely dealt with were only those in his inner circle.
Even he hadn't realized that all the miscellaneous thugs under his banner added up to such numbers.
What chilled him even more was that the Alliance knew his own assets better than he did.
West was just as dumbfounded.
Earlier, he had assumed the Alliance only set its sights on them after taking over Boulder City. Now it seemed these people might have planned to strike long ago...
Approaching Chu Guang, Wrench snapped to attention and saluted.
"A total of 4,713 individuals arrested, and 671 killed in action!"
Standing beside Chu Guang, Joy couldn't help but look moved at the number.
"So many... That's nearly two percent of the slums' entire population."
Boulder City had never conducted a proper census of the slums, but estimates placed it around two hundred thousand.
Wrench continued with a stern expression, "The situation here may be even more complicated than we thought. Those we've captured are only core members near the strongholds and gang elements who actively resisted. There's still a massive number of peripheral affiliates lying low inside."
After all, they were soldiers, not investigating police officers. The enforcement was bound to be far rougher, and among those detained, some wrongful arrests were inevitable.
Yet it could hardly be called an injustice.
The Alliance had already warned survivors in the slums to stay indoors.
Anyone not on a construction team who ignored the warning, fell right between sixteen and thirty-five years old, carried a weapon, and just happened to be scurrying around near a gang stronghold could hardly blame anyone else for being arrested as a gangster.
Afterward, the Alliance would interrogate the detainees separately, releasing the innocent based on confessions and collected physical evidence, while handling the rest as they deserved.
Looking toward the crowd in the distance, Chu Guang nodded.
"Target the ringleaders and spare the small fry for now, and run this through several passes. Focus on weeding out the organized criminals—don't let a single one get away. Peripheral members who aren't deeply entangled should mainly be reformed; have the guards register their records. If they offend again, punish them severely."
No one lived in a vacuum. Living under a gang-dominated order, the young men of the slums were all tainted to some degree.
In truth, the construction teams were themselves a method of division and rehabilitation. As long as they worked honestly, today's business would have had nothing to do with them.
Uniting a portion of the peripheral population under the new order minimized the risk of the powder keg buried in the slums going off.
Then sending in the army to smash the underworld forces to pieces once and for all.
That was the whole plan.
Wrench asked in a heavy voice, "How should we handle these people?"
"Same as the marauders. For ringleaders, execute first, interrogate later; for core members, interrogate first, then execute. The rank-and-file go to the POW camp..."
Pausing, Chu Guang amended, "Never mind, don't send them to the POW camp. Set up a punishment battalion instead. The Tide will be here soon."
Locking criminals in with prisoners of war hardly seemed humane; garbage was best kept separated by category.
"Yes, sir!"
Pressing his right fist to his chest in a salute, Wrench turned toward the troops nearby and summoned his subordinates to assign duties.
Having entrusted the gang members' punishment to Wrench, Chu Guang looked down at a briefcase lying on the snow nearby.
Inside lay stacks of light-brown banknotes, each with a denomination of a full one hundred thousand.
This was loot seized from the Dagger Gang's stronghold.
Originally, it had also contained silver coins, dinars, and Cr, which he had instructed the guards to send to the court alongside the other seized contraband.
The players' rewards were calculated separately; these illicit goods would be confiscated once the trials concluded.
"Bugra... I believe this is currency from the Free State."
Following Chu Guang's gaze to the paper bills, Joy furrowed his brow and murmured, "I heard long ago that there were people from the Free State among the slum gangs outside the city."
Gangs were one of the Bugra Free State's specialties.
There, corporate paramilitaries wielded the greatest power, followed by a motley assortment of syndicates, mercenaries, bounty hunters, and the like, with government forces and police ranking at the very bottom.
They sold the tools of civilized men to marauders, while exporting marauder methods to civilized men.
Yet compared to outright marauders or clean survivor factions, the Free State's corporations preferred doing business with entities caught in between.
Trading with clients like that allowed them to export both weapons and technical experts simultaneously, reaping far fatter returns.
Chu Guang nodded and said slowly, "Matches the intelligence I received. People from the Free State bribed several inner-city nobles. According to the confession of that centurion named Weilun, they noticed guests arriving from the north long ago. But because those people rarely touched their share of the pie, they paid them little mind—occasionally even making deals to have them handle dirty work they couldn't conveniently do themselves."
The Dagger Gang was a syndicate backed by the Bugra Free State.
Their modus operandi was covert, accustomed to erecting a shadow set of rules beneath the established order to squeeze surplus profit from marginalized groups and the weak.
Because they avoided stepping on the toes of vested interests—and even cooperated with them—most settlements and survivor factions never bothered expending the effort to root them out.
"A thorny problem..." Joy sighed. "If we don't resolve the trouble in the north, even if we crush these few cockroaches, a new swarm of vermin will eventually crop up."
"No matter how thorny, it must be done."
Gazing toward the slums, Chu Guang narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Even without our northern neighbor, the wasteland exports chaos to us at every waking moment. To preserve our achievements, we must handle the aftermath thoroughly, establish a sound system, plug every exploitable loophole, and chip away at the survival space of those roaches until our Alliance leaves no soil for them to thrive."
That wasn't to say flies only attacked cracked eggs, but on this wasteland, places that the Bugra Free State couldn't infiltrate did exist.
Like the Academy. Like Enterprise.
"...I will coordinate these efforts with Lovett, Luka, and the others. Of course, we'll need your militia's cooperation as well."
Feeling the resolve in his words, Joy nodded slightly, respectfully pressing his right fist to his chest.
"It is an honor to serve you."
...
The remainder of the night passed peacefully; nothing happened.
Early the following morning, before the sky had fully brightened.
Twenty disgraced gang leaders were marched by a hundred-man company into the open ground between the market and the main gate.
The commotion at the gate drew countless eyes, and wastelanders stranded in the market crowded toward the entrance to watch the spectacle.
Many merchants who regularly traded in Boulder City recognized the figures bound hand and foot, and some even cried out their names in shock.
"Jeff... and West?!"
"The head and second-in-command of the Dagger Gang!"
"The third boss is there too!"
"And bosses from the Dean Gang and the Poison Gang..."
"Good grief, all three major gangs gathered in one spot?!"
"What is the Alliance doing?"
The crowd watched the gate of the Great Wall with curiosity, observing Alliance soldiers slipping hoods made of plastic sheeting over the prisoners' heads, murmuring among themselves about what the Alliance intended to do.
Their curiosity did not last long, however, as the answer was soon revealed.
Twenty rifle-bearing soldiers marched up in neat formation, coming to a halt a short distance behind the condemned men, before chambering their rifles without a single superfluous word.
Some wastelanders caught an inkling of what was about to happen, yet found it hard to believe the Alliance would actually do it, astonishment washing over their faces.
*Bang! Bang!*
A dense volley of gunfire rang out. Mists of blood erupted from the backs of heads and torsos as twenty ringleaders collapsed into the snow without a sound.
They had probably assumed they still held some value—that they would at least be interrogated—never imagining the Alliance would execute them outright.
When the shots rang out, they had possessed no mental preparation whatsoever.
One resilient bastard survived the volley, twitching on the bloodstained snow, having rubbed the plastic hood right off his head.
It was none other than Jeff—the underground emperor of the slums, and indeed of all Boulder City!
The boss of the Dagger Gang!
"Ka... ah..."
His blood-smeared mouth opened and closed as blood poured outward. He tried to speak, to beg for mercy, but couldn't form coherent words. All he could do was gaze pleadingly at the soldier striding toward him, extending a trembling hand.
His lips seemed to shape the plea:
*Give me one more chance.*
The soldier wasted no breath on him, having no idea who the man even was.
Seeing that one marauder boss had yet to be dispatched, the young man quickened his stride, raised his rifle, and fired another bullet into his skull.
*Bang!*
A dead silence fell over the market.
Only the fading echo lingered in the air.
Jeff's pupils gradually dilated, and his propped-up arm collapsed into the snow, bringing an unceremonious end to a life soaked in heinous crime.
Watching the boss of the Dagger Gang die like a stray dog, the wastelanders swallowed involuntarily.
Looking again at the exoskeleton-clad soldiers, an innate, bone-deep fear crept into their eyes.
These people meant business!
They had executed even a figure as powerful as Jeff!
The times here truly had changed...
Beyond the mere onlookers, marauders and gang members stranded in the market were thrown into outright panic, their limbs trembling uncontrollably.
The Alliance had cordoned off the entire market; there was nowhere to run.
If their captured comrades gave them up...
Many glanced instinctively toward the surrender desk, despairingly weighing whether they had any chance of survival left.
Unlike the wastelanders in the market with their varied thoughts, the gang members held beside the execution ground were almost universally pale, looking as if their souls had fled their bodies.
Some from the freezing cold, others from sheer terror.
Seeing their bosses lying dead at the city gate, almost every man's calves shook uncontrollably.
A few couldn't hold their bladders, leaving large wet patches on their trousers; younger or faint-hearted ones broke down sobbing outright.
Most people feared death.
Those who didn't had already perished in the firefights before nightfall yesterday.
The soldiers standing guard with rifles cradled cast cold glances over the villains, corners of their mouths curling in disdain.
*Afraid now, are we?*
*Where was this sense before?*
The executions proceeded through three full rounds, carried out in plain view of everyone.
To ensure every prisoner witnessed the fate of the ringleaders, Wrench deliberately brought the captives up to the Great Wall in shifts to watch.
Perhaps spurred by the gruesome end of their leaders, the subsequent interrogations went far smoother.
The gang members in the market were the first to confess, while those hiding out in vain hopes of slipping through were turned in by legitimate merchants.
Now that the Alliance was demonstrably in earnest, honest traders had no reason to fear future retaliation.
Next came the prisoners captured in the slums. Some confessed even to petty thievery, while others went on mad sprees of finger-pointing, racking their brains to betray every accomplice they knew in hopes of winning leniency.
A long list of names quickly formed.
Although some unlucky bystanders swept up in the dragnet were released, more people were continually brought out from the slums.
The punishment battalion's ranks did not shrink; instead, they swelled past five thousand.
Meanwhile, as the criminal dens hidden in the slums were dismantled one after another, captive survivors were rescued as well.
The majority were children between twelve and sixteen, numbering over three thousand in total.
Having lived in dark, damp conditions for prolonged periods, many suffered from lung ailments and severe vision degradation, while others had been forced into the sex trade, contracting debilitating diseases at a tender age.
This news was quickly published in the *Survivor Daily*.
Not just the residents of Boulder City, but the entire Alliance was shocked by the atrocities committed beneath the shadow of the Great Wall...
...
Ideal City.
Inside a cloud-piercing skyscraper.
Sitting on a sofa, Wu Changnian finished reading the "archaic"-looking newspaper in his hands, let out a soft sigh, and set it on the table.
"To think there were so many victims..."
The newspaper had been delivered by the Alliance embassy.
Brought in person by Shuyu, who served as ambassador.
Though it might sound callous, tragedies far more horrific than this were a dime a dozen across the wasteland; aside from giving the Alliance a nod of approval, he had little interest in meddling.
Watching Wu Changnian sink into thought, Shuyu spoke with earnest sincerity:
"We need your help! Truth be told... just providing relief to the survivors inside Boulder City was already straining our capacity to its limit. Now we have another two hundred thousand survivors in need of aid. We can hardly manage on our own."
Wu Changnian closed his eyes and sighed again.
He knew of Boulder City. Back then, it had been one of the survivor settlements under the Wartime Reconstruction Committee, and many of its factories had been established with help from Enterprise's predecessor, the Production Department.
Matters back then were too convoluted—human factors intertwined with non-human factors, adding up to an untangleable ledger.
Those settlements left to fend for themselves were merely an episode among countless crises.
After learning that the weapon had fallen into the Alliance's hands, the Board of Directors had washed its hands of Boulder City's affairs. Never did he imagine that half a month later, he would once again be nursing a headache over survivors three thousand kilometers away.
Tapping his index finger lightly on his knee, Wu Changnian asked in a low voice, "What do you need?"
Going by his past dealings with the Alliance, those people never passed up an opportunity to fleece Enterprise for resources.
Yet Shuyu's response caught him off guard.
"Teachers!"
Wu Changnian froze, thinking he had misheard.
"...Teachers?" He had assumed the Alliance would use this chance to demand funds.
"Yes," Shuyu nodded earnestly. "The Alliance's full-time schools and night schools are already operating beyond capacity, while Boulder City's infrastructure in this area is a blank slate. We've already allocated a large portion of our educational resources to Boulder City, but now there are over three thousand more children."
"I see your point. That is indeed a problem," Wu Changnian said, feeling a sense of relief inside. After a moment's thought, he continued, "...We will organize a donation drive on the Endpoint Cloud and recruit volunteers to assist you, but you must guarantee their safety."
This sort of matter wasn't worth debating at a Board meeting; handling it within the purview of the General Management Department was far more appropriate.
Evidently, the Alliance didn't want to incur too great a favor from Enterprise either, refraining from unreasonable requests like "transferring those people to Ideal City."
Mobilizing civil society wouldn't consume much budget anyway.
Having secured the deputy director's pledge, Shuyu also breathed a sigh of relief, a sincere smile surfacing on his face.
"Rest assured on that front! We will not only ensure their personal safety, board, lodging, and health, but we will also pay them full wages!"
Wu Changnian smiled faintly and said, "That won't be necessary. Most of our citizens interested in aiding survivors outside live in comfortable circumstances. Covering their room and board will be plenty."
Shuyu shook his head, insisting, "Those are two separate matters. Where we come from, any work must be compensated. Besides, how could we bear to let kind-hearted people pay out of pocket? Consider it a small token of our gratitude!"
Seeing the ambassador so firm, Wu Changnian declined no further and nodded. "Then I thank you on their behalf."
"Not at all—we are the ones who should be thanking you!" At this point, Shuyu smiled sheepishly and added, "Oh, right. In addition to teachers, we also need some medical personnel, as well as experts in medicine and biology."
Wu Changnian paused.
"Medical personnel I understand, and we can even sponsor some pharmaceuticals for you... but what are experts in biology and medicine for?"
Shuyu wore an apologetic expression.
"The timing is truly unfortunate! Every early spring, Qingquan City experiences the Tide, and it's especially fierce after a warm winter. Now, with such an upheaval occurring, our personnel are stretched thin in every sense... Not just educational resources, but healthcare, production, across every sector—"
Wu Changnian cleared his throat hurriedly, cutting him off. "You folks certainly don't have it easy."
Shuyu sighed.
"There's no helping it... It's all to clean up the mess left behind by our predecessors. We can't very well leave those poor souls to their fate."
Although he could tell the straightforward young man was referring to the People's Federation of the distant past, Wu Changnian's eyebrow twitched involuntarily.
Coughing softly to mask his awkwardness, he assumed an elder's authority and said, "I'll see what I can do for you."
A bright smile spread across Shuyu's face, and he gave a firm nod. "Yes! Much obliged!"
Wu Changnian stared at the young man for a moment, unable to shake the feeling that he resembled someone he knew.
Especially that phrasing—it was uncanny!
Was it just his imagination?
...
Securing external aid was merely one part of the puzzle.
The Alliance's cleanup after this "military operation" entailed far more, and it was certainly not something to be wrapped up in a day or two.
Following an initial screening, the more than five thousand prisoners assigned to the punishment battalion were hauled off by the First Corps to Qingshi County, north of Dawn City.
There, they would undergo two months of military training before the Alliance dispatched them to where they belonged.
With the major gangs dismantled, the lockdowns on the slums and the market were lifted in succession.
Amid grumbles, some wastelanders trudged into the wilderness, opting to leave this dangerous place behind. But having witnessed the Alliance's swift, iron-fisted methods, most felt even greater confidence in Boulder City's future and chose to stay.
Moreover, despite such an earthshaking event, the New Year's Eve festivities were not canceled.
As the Administrator phrased it, the new order built by the Alliance was meant to ruin the New Year for villains, not the good folk.
A few flies were no reason to dampen the holiday cheer.
Besides, this hardly counted as real trouble.
On last year's New Year's Eve, they had barely set down their wine bottles before picking up rifles and marching straight onto the battlefield.
Boulder City Hall.
Inside the Administrator's office reserved for Chu Guang by the new authorities, the newly appointed captain of the guards reported the patrol plan for New Year's Eve, before voicing his lingering concerns with some hesitation.
"...With so many people gathering in the streets after dark, I worry that remnants who slipped through our net in the last operation might seize the chance to take revenge on us."
Chu Guang replied calmly, "Then let them come. If it's bound to happen sooner or later, better sooner."
He wasn't worried about them creating any major disturbance.
To say nothing of the fact that Xiao Qi had already taken over the cameras across the Great Wall once Boulder City was integrated into Dawn City's communication network—every player eager for coin drops served as his eyes.
Later, he would post an announcement reminding the players attending the event to keep their eyes peeled and watch out for anyone trying to stir up trouble.
The guard captain hesitated, then lowered his voice. "...My greater concern is actually that they might target you."
At this, Chu Guang offered a faint smile.
"Even better. I couldn't ask for more."
The players were growing increasingly capable. Though he had never neglected his training, it had been a long time since he fought personally.
If any blind fools wanted to make a fool of themselves before him, he wouldn't mind trading a few blows with them.
Otherwise, only Heya in the entire Alliance knew how strong he was—his pentagon-maxed stat sheet was practically going to waste.
The guard captain froze, completely at a loss, caught between laughter and tears, unsure of what to say.
*Couldn't ask for more, really...?*
Although he knew the Guards Corps was full of formidable experts, and the esteemed Administrator never stepped out in public without his power armor, he still felt caution was warranted.
Seeing how confident his lordship was in his men, however, he could hardly say more. With a slight nod, he excused himself and took his leave.
Not long after the office door closed, Chu Guang picked up a pen to review the documents in front of him. Before long, a soft knock came from the door.
"Enter."
The door opened a crack. Alisa glanced left and right to make sure no one was watching before slipping inside and closing the door with gentle care.
Seeing her stealthy demeanor, Chu Guang smiled and set down his pen.
"Is someone following you?"
Blushing at the tease, Alisa shook her head.
"No... um, do you have a moment?"
She had not wanted to disturb the Administrator's work, especially over a personal matter, but this was a major milestone concerning her future, and she wanted to make a considered choice.
"You're already here. I can't very well make you swallow your words," Chu Guang joked, then added, "Go on, what is it?"
"...It's about Shelter 101."
Looking inexplicably tongue-tied, Alisa hesitated for a long while before asking softly, "Is it really as incredible as Pai says?"
Chapter 553