Beside That Gentleman, I Saw Another Possibility

In the combat command center's conference room, the "rectification meeting" that had made Lium squirm in his seat finally came to an end. Although Division Commander Lin hadn't seized the opportunity to make an example of him, the occasional glance drifting his way from across the room still felt like needles pricking his back. This was probably what having a guilty conscience felt like. Still, much to Lium's surprise, setting aside the uncomfortable feeling, the things that fellow named Vannus had discussed during the meeting actually gave him the faint illusion of having benefited immensely. From both tactical and strategic perspectives, the man had conducted a profound critique of the allied forces' mistakes during the battle. Although the engagement had ended in victory, had coordination between the various forces been smoother, the allied coalition wouldn't have had to suffer such grievous casualties. Naturally, even he could have come up with such hindsight-driven summaries. However, to analyze the problems so methodically and thoroughly in such a short span of time—and even propose remedies—still required real caliber! Gazing at the bridge of that man's prominent nose, a sharp gleam flickered in Lium's eyes. Objectively speaking, this Vannus was genuinely a talent! It was hard to imagine that such a talent had once been nothing more than a chiliarch in a cannon-fodder unit under the Eastern Legion's expeditionary force. Had Lium been his superior, he would have definitely recommended him to serve as a mid-level officer in the Youth Army, promoting him to the upper echelons once his record matured. After adjournment was announced, Lium waited at the table for a moment until most of the attendees had cleared out, then called out to Vannus as he was about to leave. "Wait a moment." Seeing that it was General Lium calling after him, Vannus stopped in his tracks and asked, "What is it now?" Lium measured him from head to toe, then suddenly smiled. "I don't understand. With your abilities, you were bound to accomplish great things in the Legion. Why go and become a traitor?" Lium enunciated the word "traitor" heavily, trying to read a trace of shame or some similar expression on the man's face. Only then would it be convenient to say what came next. Yet, beyond his expectation, Vannus's expression didn't shift in the slightest. Instead, he looked back at him and countered, "What accomplishments do you mean? Becoming a myriarch? Becoming a regional governor? Or possessing tens of thousands of slaves and thousands of hectares in fiefdoms?" Lium froze, stared at him for a moment, and said, "What about honor then? You're a soldier. You should at least have that, shouldn't you?" Vannus smiled faintly and replied in a mild tone, "To me, fighting for what one believes in is the only thing that can be called honor. Otherwise, even marauders could claim they fight for honor—they too can shout 'For the boss!' or something similar before raiding." Lium narrowed his eyes. "What are you trying to say?" "I am answering your confusion. Didn't you ask why I betrayed the Legion?" Vannus glanced at him, then shifted his gaze toward the doorway, continuing concisely, "Beside that gentleman, I saw another possibility." Lium was taken aback. "Just that?" Vannus nodded. "Nothing more." ... Noon. At the coalition's frontline against Torch, a group of young men from Ideal City waited on their positions at Black Cloud Mountain, preparing to march toward Broken Blade Mountain. The unit tasked with relieving the Storm Corps and taking over the Broken Blade Mountain position was the 1st Regiment of the 100th Mountain Division. Since the start of the war, these youngsters hadn't slain a single mutant. Instead, they had collected quite a stack of colorful cards and put on a bit of weight. Even so, they hadn't forgotten why they had come here. Eager anticipation was written on every face; they couldn't wait to go up and show what they were made of, proving they weren't truly good-for-nothings. Hearing the faint rattle of gunfire echoing from the distant mountains, Tang Feng felt his blood surge in his chest. At the thought of heading there shortly, he couldn't help gripping the G9 assault rifle in his hands, his index finger continuously rubbing against the safety catch. Not out of fear. Out of excitement. Months of continuous training were finally about to be put to use! "Haven't the mutants in these mountains all been wiped out yet?" Standing not far from him, an officer nodded. Narrowing his eyes as he looked ahead, he said succinctly, "Those bastards are like roaches. Completely rooting them out takes no less time than crushing them on the open battlefield... whether by the sea, in the woods, or up in the mountains." With that, he stepped to the front of the entire company, swept his gaze across the pairs of vibrant eyes, and raised his voice: "Once you're on the front line, stay alert at all times! Keep your eyes peeled and report every suspicious threat! "I'll only say this once. This is no game. A single mistake could cost you your life—or the lives of everyone here!" "Understood!" After listening to the officer's admonition, the soldiers of Company 1 roared with high morale, including Tang Feng, who had asked the question. Watching these spirited young men, the officer slowly nodded. "You had best mean it." The men of 2nd Battalion had already advanced to the front line, but after waiting for a long time, the companies of 1st Battalion still hadn't received their orders. Their commander therefore ordered them to disperse and rest, merely requiring them not to stray too far from the muster point. Black Cloud Mountain was, after all, a Wilante position. This wasn't boot camp. He didn't want to keep his subordinates on too tight a leash, yet he worried these energetic young men might clash with the Wilantes. Who could blame them when the two sides had always rubbed each other the wrong way? Tang Feng didn't wander off. He simply sat with his comrades from 2nd Platoon, Company 1, chatting idly while watching the dirt-streaked big-noses not far away. "Is that the 2nd Millennium?" "Should be the 1st Millennium." "But I heard the 2nd Millennium led the charge last night, didn't they? How come they're bruised and battered too?" A machine gunner curled his lip, his voice laced with mockery. "That comes down to these big-noses being too clever for their own good... Word is, they wanted to show off last night, dragging the 2nd Millennium—which was supposed to rotate out—straight to the front line. Turned out that bone was too tough to chew, and the mutants beat them half to death. Afterward, that Lium fellow probably couldn't stomach the loss, so in his shame and fury, he threw his defensive forces into the meat grinder too." "So he ended up dropping a boulder on his own foot?" a rifleman chimed in with a teasing tone. The machine gunner chuckled. "Haha, exactly." The 1st Millennium? Tang Feng vaguely remembered that designation. The "exhibitionist" who would strip off his jacket to flex his muscles at the drop of a hat seemed to be in that unit. He wondered how the guy was holding up. Getting battered black and blue by a bunch of mutants was quite the disgrace. Next time they played cards, he would definitely mock him mercilessly. With the Blue-Eyes White Dragon in his hand! Just as the thought crossed his mind, a Wilante on crutches came limping in their direction. Judging by his attire and epaulets, he appeared to be a decurion. His left leg seemed broken, and bandages were wrapped around his head. From the wounds faintly showing through, they looked like burns. Seeing the Wilante approach, the young men of 2nd Platoon, Company 1 fell silent, fixing their eyes on the man on crutches to see what he wanted. According to past precedent, nothing good ever came from a Wilante approaching on his own initiative. Yet to the surprise of the squad, this disheveled fellow didn't seem to be looking for a fight. He merely swept his gaze over them and asked, "Are you Company 1, 1st Battalion?" The platoon leader sitting in the middle looked at him. "Yeah. What about it?" The Wilante twitched the corner of his mouth. "Looking for someone... Do you have a guy named Tang Feng here?" Seeing his comrades looking at him, Tang Feng set his rifle aside, hopped down from the boulder he was sitting on, and looked the man up and down. "That's me. You need something?" The Wilante nodded and wasted no words. Pulling out a bundle tucked under his arm, he tossed it into Tang Feng's chest. Looking at the bewildered Tang Feng, he slowly continued, "A dying wish my brother wrote in his final letter. He told me to send his letters and personal effects back home... except for this. He told me to find a fellow named Tang Feng in Company 1, 1st Battalion, 1st Regiment of the Enterprise's 100th Division, and throw this to him." Catching the bundle, Tang Feng instinctively unwrapped it and peeked inside. Seeing it stuffed full of colorful cards, he froze in utter shock. "Your brother is..." He looked up numbly at the Legion decurion before him. "Daimon." The decurion curled his lips, perhaps trying to soften his rigid expression, or perhaps because the burned flesh was twitching involuntarily. Looking at Tang Feng, he recited the fellow's last words: "He told me to tell his family that he was a true warrior, and they shouldn't feel sad for him. Falling in battle before growing old was his honor, and they should be proud of his valor... That idiot sure had a lot of nonsense to say. But true warriors don't need this kind of stuff, do they? Keep it for him." Pausing, the decurion's Adam's apple bobbed, and he added, "Also, he told me to pass along that playing cards with you was actually pretty fun... even if not getting to punch you in the face was a regret. "Where we come from, that's how we make friends." Leaving those words behind, the decurion hobbled away on his crutches, leaving Tang Feng clutching the bundle and standing blankly in place, while the young men of 2nd Platoon sat on their rocks exchanging glances. That guy... Dead? Looking down at the parcel in his hands, Tang Feng swallowed involuntarily, feeling a faint chill seep into his fingers inside the exoskeleton gloves. It wasn't until a shout rang out in the distance that he snapped back to his senses. "Fall in!" Hearing his officer's command, he jolted awake. Without time to dwell further, he reflexively tied the bundle up, slung it across his back, and picked up the rifle he had set aside. Only at this moment did he truly realize: This wasn't Ideal City. Nor was it a game on the Endpoint Cloud. This was a real battlefield... ... Three days had flashed by since the allied high command's "rectification meeting." During these three days, the front line remained calm. Aside from occasional sporadic gunfire on Broken Blade Mountain, there were virtually no large-scale battles or firefights. Yet this peace felt more like the calm before the storm. Throughout this period, the Academy had been steadily deploying reinforcements to the front. The Alpha Mobile Task Force stationed around Weifu Military Base had expanded from an initial one thousand men to a strength of three thousand. Furthermore, Academy aircraft flew reconnaissance missions over Blood Mountain almost daily, frequently dropping drones to probe the mutants' strength. Compared to the Legion's "gambler" offensive strategy and Enterprise's figure-it-out-as-you-go approach, they seemed more inclined to formulate meticulous, exhaustive plans in advance, minimizing both the margin of error and the chance of mistakes, aiming to conclude the engagement in one decisive blow. It had to be said that this was quintessential Academy style. When they planned an operation, rarely could anyone guess their true intentions. However, what Chu Guang wondered was how they would react if plans failed to keep pace with changing circumstances, or if their opponent played an unexpected card. Nor was he the only one curious; the coalition's other commanders were just as intrigued. At present, the Alliance, the Legion, and Enterprise had each secured a position, leaving everyone waiting to see how the Academy would perform in the battles to come. An unprecedented battle was quietly brewing... ... Outside Weifu Military Base, along the northern bank of the Wei River. Ridges crisscrossed the fields in an orderly network, and soldiers of the Rat Clan, each carrying a basket on their back, toiled with their heads down in the soil. The war between the Community and Torch seemed completely detached from them. Up to this point, their only combat record was trailing behind the clone corps to deliver free kills. While everyone else was waiting for the Academy's next move, they had already tilled the entire stretch of land along the north bank of the Wei River and had now reached the sowing stage. Most of these feudal lords' soldiers were serfs or domestic servants by birth. While amateurs when it came to warfare, every last one was an expert at farming—even if their tools and techniques were somewhat primitive. They emptied seeds into basins, mixed them evenly with fine sand and plant ash burned from weeds, and then scattered them across the turned earth. The plot closest to the military base was a vegetable patch, planted with seasonal vegetables—especially cabbage meant to accompany pork trotter rice. Beyond that were potato fields and more. Even further out, they had carved out paddy fields, seemingly intent on catching the late-June window to plant a crop of late rice. General Babita had promised them that once the crops were harvested, every single one of them would receive a handsome reward. Though they never harbored high hopes for such an abstract word as "handsome," not having to go to the front lines and throw away their lives was good enough. Furthermore, General Babita had squeezed the funds for these seeds and seedlings straight out of their food allowances. Consequently, everyone worked with great care. Not only did no one slack off, but they even actively defended these farmlands belonging to the Xilan expeditionary force, standing up against the "bullies" of the Southern Construction Corps. Even if this land nominally belonging to the expeditionary force would ultimately end up like the funds allocated by His Imperial Majesty—lining the pockets of General Babita and his officers—a little something would still trickle down into their bellies. Just as the Rat Clan soldiers were bustling about, two excavators rumbled over from the direction of Weifu Military Base, one behind the other. Alongside the excavators walked a group of construction workers in overalls. Without question, they were from the Southern Construction Corps. Looking up, the Rat Clan members immediately donned expressions as if facing a mortal foe. Dropping their baskets, they grabbed hoes and swarmed forward. Pressed by expectations from his superiors, a decurion bit the bullet and stepped forward, shouting at the man in the excavator: "What are you doing here?" A construction worker walking alongside the excavator answered, "Building a road." Everyone froze, thinking their ears had deceived them. The decurion glanced at the excavator's bucket, then back at the worker, repeating skeptically, "Building a road?" The worker replied matter-of-factly, "That's right. There was leftover cement from building the military base, so higher-ups told us to pave a few roads along the Wei River to connect this whole surrounding area with infrastructure... Once the road is paved, it'll be more convenient for you folks to come over from the base to farm." Hearing this, surprise washed over their faces, and they exchanged incredulous glances. They distinctly remembered that just a few days ago, these people had tried every trick in the book to drive them away. Why the sudden change of heart today? The decurion wore a face full of disbelief, warily eyeing the worker. "What are you really up to? Why pave a road all of a sudden?" The worker sighed helplessly. "What do you mean, 'why'? Fine, I'll put it more bluntly. The Alliance plans to lay out a settlement here; in the future, this entire area will belong to 'Weifu City.' We're not just paving roads here—neighboring Kun Town is getting connected too." This was what Regimental Commander Li Jinrong had mentioned to them at the general meeting the day before yesterday. Since no one said it was classified and so many people had been present, word was bound to get out anyway, so he couldn't be bothered to be coy about it. At that meeting, Li Jinrong hadn't only mentioned the planning of Weifu City, but also the future plans for both regular and non-regular personnel of the Southern Construction Corps. Aside from their contractual wages, once the war ended, the Southern Construction Corps would allocate an apartment of at least one hundred square meters to each person who chose to stay and live locally, along with a storefront that could either be rented out or run personally. While housing and shops here weren't as attractive as those in Dawn City, the development potential here was plain for everyone to see. Otherwise, when refugees fled into nearby abandoned villages to claim land and houses, the men of the Southern Construction Corps wouldn't have felt so envious. Because the coalition forces were stationed in the region, more and more survivors from the southern parts of Jinchuan Province were congregating here. Not all of these people came to trade; far more were drawn by the safety, stability, and order. Even when the war ended and the coalition pulled out, the order established here wouldn't vanish overnight. A portion of the people would inevitably remain and become permanent residents. Initially, he and his colleagues had merely thought those outside bumpkins had come to take advantage of low-hanging fruit. But after hearing Commander Li's analysis at the meeting, their mindset changed. The Weifu Wasteland held no special resources—only land, which was the least scarce thing on the wasteland, found everywhere. In contrast, people were the most precious wealth. Because wasteland survivors were willing to gather around the Alliance, the homes the Alliance built acquired value. In other words, everything they were doing now wasn't for the refugees, but for themselves—to make their future new homes worth more! With such an enticing pie hanging before them, they naturally lost interest in those few patches of muddy riverbank. Even if it meant paving a road for these "shiftless" rat people, not a single soul complained. Yet upon hearing the construction worker's explanation, an uproar broke out among the crowd. Before their decurion could speak, a Rat Clan man hurried forward and asked: "Weifu City?! This is your territory now? Then... then what about the land we're farming?" The worker smiled and said, "Doesn't affect you much. If you want to farm, keep farming. I think the Alliance's laws say something about it—cultivate it for two years, and it's yours." Whether that was actually written into law, he hadn't studied closely, but that was indeed how things worked back in Dawn City. The land north of Ling Lake, once farmed for two years or so, no longer required giving a share of the harvest to Changjiu Farm. He had only mentioned it in passing, but falling upon the ears of these Rat Clan members, it made countless eyes widen in shock. Farmed for two years and it becomes your own? Such a good thing actually existed?! Pairs of eyes lit up with longing, burning with a desire so palpable it could be seen with the naked eye... In Brahma Province, no one had ever spoken such words to them. No one blocked the Southern Construction Corps' team anymore, nor did the two excavators drive into their fields to cause damage. The two sides demarcated the boundary between farmland and road, each minding their own work without interfering with the other. Watching the Rat Clan members successfully "repelling" the Southern Construction Corps, Chiliarch Kumar, standing in the distance, breathed a sigh of relief, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "General Babita truly predicts like a god." These disgusting rats were useful after all. Didn't those hypocrites claim they wanted to unite with the lower classes? General Babita had seen right through their hypocrisy, turned their own trick against them, and shoved these lowlifes right in front of them. While this land was indeed the expeditionary force's property, that was only the explanation given to the Rat Clan. To the Alliance, they had an entirely different story: the rats going out to farm outside the base was their own personal doing, having nothing to do with the Xilan Empire's expeditionary force. Sure enough, confronted by that mob of hoe-toting Rat Clan paupers, the pretentious Valley people had immediately found themselves in a dilemma. Driving their excavators straight over was the clearest proof. Although those fellows hid their embarrassment well, Kumar could tell at a glance that the two excavators had originally been heading for those fertile plots by the river. Wicked bastards, the lot of them! Just as Kumar eagerly dashed off to report another victory of the expeditionary force to General Babita, Chu Guang, who was strolling through Weifu Military Base, suddenly received an unexpected message. The call was from Yin Fang. Listening to Yin Fang's report over the comm channel, Chu Guang froze. "...Are you sure that's a 'Prowler'?" "Yeah... I can still tell a tractor apart from a tank, especially one with such distinct features. But that's not the point. The point is, unlike the wreckage we salvaged from central Qingquan City and Sunset Province, the 'Meissner armor' generator unit inside the hull is completely intact. We suspect it wasn't destroyed in combat—it looks more like it was abandoned after running out of fuel." Chu Guang could hear the distinct hesitation, even bewilderment, in Yin Fang's voice as he said those words. "What I can't wrap my head around is that none of our existing records mention the Human Alliance Army deploying armored forces in southern Jinchuan Province... And how on earth did a farmer from Mafu Town manage to find this thing?"