A Way Out

Clang— In the pitch-black darkness where one could scarcely see five fingers outstretched before them, the clinking of chains suddenly echoed. Sitting on the stone bed, Anwo felt a surge of joy. He was about to stand up, but another thought struck him, and his heart sank with trepidation. This was the dungeon of Tiandu. It was said that anyone who entered this place was lucky to escape with their skin intact, and not a single intact corpse had ever been carried out. In particular, the torture instruments hanging on the walls, though not yet bound to his body, scared the daylights out of him. Ever since that gunshot rang out, Absaik had thrown him in here and gone completely silent, not even coming down to spare him a glance. Although his "advisor," Ishel, had patted his chest and assured him he would be fine, Anwo could not help but feel anxious, worried that Absaik might bump him off to tie up loose ends. Right at that moment, unhurried footsteps finally stopped outside the cell door. Seeing Ishel standing outside the iron bars holding a food tray, Anwo's tense shoulders relaxed at last, and he sat back down on the stone bed. Ishel signaled the jailer to unlock the barred door, slipped him a bill, and gestured for him to move away. Only then did he enter the cell with a smile, setting the tray down on the small table. "How does it feel to be a hero?" "Not good at all!" Grabbing an oily flatbread from the tray, Anwo wolfed it down, mumbling around a mouthful of food, "I just want to stay alive. I'd rather have never touched this bullshit in the first place." "There are still upsides," Ishel consoled him, pouring a cup of milk into his cup. "Eat slowly. Don't go choking yourself to death." "It's hard..." Anwo shook his head and let out a melancholy sigh. "I've realized that where I've led myself is practically a dead end." Such was the sorrow of a nobody. Most of the time, he had no choices at all. All he could do was struggle when disaster loomed, gambling on a near-impossible long shot. Those two hundred lives would be discovered by Absaik sooner or later. Never mind that the man was leaning toward the Alliance right now; if he learned those two hundred people were still alive, pleased though he might be—perhaps even praising it openly—he would turn right around and grow deeply suspicious. After all, it had been Anwo's unauthorized decision. Janusz's paranoia was written plainly on his face, but was Absaik any different? Both were drowned ghosts who had crawled up from the Everflowing River, capable of doing anything for their own sake. Watching the anxious Anwo, Ishel lowered his voice. "Actually, it's not that difficult. The reason your life and death rest in Absaik's hands is that you are his man; you bear his brand..." Anwo gave a cynical chuckle. "And that can be wiped away?" "You can't wipe it away," Ishel said, shaking his head before shifting tack. "But you can stamp a new one over it." The dejection vanished from Anwo's face. He snapped his head up, hope rekindling in his eyes. "Explain yourself." Ishel smiled faintly, his eyes glinting in the dark like those of a crafty rat as he spoke in a deliberate, measured tone. "The Alliance delegation is currently in Tiandu, and they will soon come to see you alongside Absaik's people. This is an excellent opportunity. If you can win their favor, perhaps they'll take you to Golden Gallon Port... Once you reach Golden Gallon Port, the road ahead will be wide open for you. Put in some effort, and you might even secure a seat at their table." He pointed a finger upward, leaving the rest unsaid, though the implication was unmistakable. Anwo was stunned, almost finding it hard to believe. He swallowed hard before speaking. "...Under what pretense?" Ishel analyzed patiently, "The Alliance intends to mediate between the State of Brahma and the regional warlords, getting them to halt the civil war and point their guns outward together. Someone has to go as an envoy to negotiate, right? It's not like you'll need to do much of anything anyway. With the Alliance mediating behind the scenes, ending the civil war is the inevitable trend, and when the dust settles, you'll certainly share in the credit... It's practically free glory for the taking." "Such a great opportunity... Absaik would just hand it to me?" Anwo could not help asking. "If not to you, then to whom? Would he be willing to leave this place and go himself? If he won't go in person, he has to send someone in his stead, and you've already delivered so many pledges of loyalty. If not you, is he supposed to send a nobody like me to make up the numbers?" Ishel gave a soft chuckle, continuing in a bantering tone. "Besides, you're a prominent figure who made the front page of the Survivor Daily's extra edition in Golden Gallon Port. Absaik is counting on you to go over there and help pull in some investments for him." "An extra edition of Survivor Daily?" Anwo was dumbfounded, staring at him in disbelief. "How do you know that?" "Reporters from Survivor Daily recently came here from Xiangzhou, and a branch office will be opening here soon. That hero title of yours was given to you by them," Ishel remarked teasingly. Even this fellow had become a hero, while he himself could only be a rat hiding in a corner. It was, in its own way, a touch of local Brahma Province humor. Not that it mattered anymore. He had originally wanted to become Boer not out of some grand desire to be a hero, but purely because he saw himself in Orissa's face; in a hotheaded moment, he had wanted to stand up for the man who fell at the dock. After taking those lashes, he had completely sobered up. There was no Boer in Brahma Province. There wasn't even a worthy opponent for Boer. Take that Naji, for instance—strung up on a flagpole in the very first chapter of the story. Anwo had not thought that far ahead. He was merely astonished, his hand pausing mid-motion as he stuffed the flatbread into his mouth. Golden Gallon Port's Survivor Daily had actually come to Tiandu? He had heard of that newspaper long ago. Supposedly, it was run by the survivors of Brahma Province themselves, reporting stories that happened on this very land rather than in places like Boulder City or Dawn City. He had wanted to get his hands on a copy to read before, but unfortunately, even after scouring all of West Sail Port, one could hardly find a single intact issue. It seemed that during his days locked in this dungeon, a great deal had indeed transpired outside... ... After delivering Anwo's meal, Ishel did not linger in the dungeon. Returning the tray to the jailer, he hurried away. Not long after he left, footsteps echoed outside once more, but this time, Absaik and representatives of the Alliance entered in person. "Anwo, you have suffered!" Looking at Absaik, whose face was fraught with regret, and then at the Alliance representatives standing beside him, Anwo was momentarily unsure what play his boss wanted him to act out. The real problem was that nobody had given him a script. Yet perhaps thanks to his knack for self-preservation, his mind worked fast enough to find his footing at once. "...Everything I did was for the righteous cause in my heart. There is no suffering to speak of. The guilt lies with me alone. You have treated me generously, General, and I will not put you in a difficult position—" Before Anwo could finish, Absaik hastily cut him off, rejecting the notion. "Committing a righteous act for the union—what crime is there in that? If you are guilty, then aren't we all guilty? And wouldn't we all deserve death ten thousand times over?" With that, Absaik took hold of his shoulders and spoke with earnest gravity. "From the very beginning, I never believed you did anything wrong. It was only that some people in our ranks could not see clearly, so I had to place you under protective custody first. I hope you can understand!" "However, that is all in the past now. Today, Janusz has been overthrown, his henchmen have scattered like monkeys when the tree falls, and I can finally release you!" Absaik went on to say a great deal more. Even knowing full well what kind of man he was, Anwo could not help feeling a flicker of emotion. He finally understood that old saying: sometimes knowing less was indeed a blessing, while knowing too much only brought suffering. If he had not been involved in that business at the cathedral, had not witnessed the late-night conversation between the general and the Legion's envoy, and had not learned so many behind-the-scenes secrets, he might truly have mistaken the man before him for some flawless paragon of benevolence. Of course. He knew very well that he had no right to say such things. His assassination of Janusz had not been for any righteous cause; back in the cathedral, he had hesitated over whether to fire, and now he had to keep playing along against his conscience. "...Thank you, General!" Anwo forced the words from his throat, matching the welling emotion in his eyes. "I am the one who should be saying thank you!" Absaik looked at him unblinkingly, gripping his hands tightly, his tone earnest and sincere. "On behalf of all the survivors of Brahma Province, I thank you for your righteous deed!" Nearby, a reporter captured the moment with the click of a shutter. Watching the two men in the dim light, Old Stick, standing at the rear of the party, tilted his head slightly and spoke to Old Dog beside him. "...See what I told you back then?" "Awesome." Old Dog had pure respect written across his face and could not help giving a thumbs-up. "Stay humble..." Old Stick coughed lightly, putting on a modest display. Old Wolf shot him a sideways glance. "If you're so damn awesome, why didn't you step up?" Old Stick grinned. "That's where you don't get it. Bragging and getting things done are two completely different skills. When it comes to bragging, Eagle can't hold a candle to me; but when it comes to getting things done, Eagle is far better than I am." Standing to the side, Eagle rolled his eyes. "You really don't need to flatter me..." These bastards! If they were of any use at all, they wouldn't be so utterly useless! Seeing that the two men had finally finished their melodramatic performance, Eagle coughed lightly and stepped in front of Anwo to interject. "Mr. Anwo, although you had your own difficulties, I still hope that in the future, you will handle things more calmly and not resort to extremes at every turn." These words were spoken to Anwo's face, but they were meant for Absaik standing right beside him. Whether Anwo caught the underlying message or not, he lowered his head with an expression of deep shame and admitted his fault. "I apologize, I..." Really not wanting to drag out the cutscene any longer, Eagle raised a hand to cut him off. "Enough. There's no need for apologies. This is your internal affair, and we have no wish to interfere. What I want to discuss next concerns the regional situation in Brahma Province—a matter that affects not only us, but you as well." Anwo immediately looked toward his boss, Absaik, who in turn looked at Eagle, quickly adopting a serious posture. "Please, go ahead!" Eagle glanced at the two of them and spoke deliberately. "The Alliance's Foreign Minister has arrived at Golden Gallon Port. In order to broker a ceasefire among the various factions in Brahma Province, it would be best for your side to send a representative there as well." Before Absaik could speak, Eagle continued, "We all believe you would be a suitable candidate, but we must consult your personal wishes. Are you interested?" Anwo was overjoyed upon hearing this. He was about to accept without hesitation when he caught himself, turning toward General Absaik with deference. "I shall obey the General's arrangements!" Sure enough, Absaik burst into hearty laughter, a thoroughly satisfied expression on his face as he patted Anwo's hand. "Why wait for my arrangements? As long as it benefits the thousand tribes of Brahma Province, go right ahead and do it! No need to ask me! Hurry and thank the envoys of the Alliance!" Anwo turned back toward Eagle and was about to bow in gratitude, but Eagle caught his arm. "Let's skip the endless thanking. First, let's just get out of this damn place!" ... Anwo, the man who had assassinated Janusz right in the palace court, was released. What was more, it was Absaik himself, Grand Commander of the Union, who had gone down into the dungeon in person to escort him out. The moment this news hit the pages of Survivor Daily, it sent massive shockwaves through Golden Gallon Port downriver on the Everflowing River. Many people had assumed that even if Janusz's faction was thoroughly purged, Anwo, as the nail that stuck out, would hardly meet a good end. After all, business was business. If an assassin went unpunished, wouldn't others follow his example in the future? From the perspective of Absaik and the rest of the leadership, this was clearly setting a terrible precedent. Yet to everyone's astonishment, Absaik had pardoned Anwo in person. A photograph of the two men shaking hands was printed on the front page of Survivor Daily. Amid their surprise, the public could not help clapping in admiration, convinced that Brahma Province had finally welcomed an enlightened ruler. How could an openhearted man fear the underhanded ploys in the shadows? When a true reformer looked upon his comrade-in-arms, his eyes held only fervor and respect—how could there be any suspicion? Those eyes illuminated by the flashbulb shone with resolute brilliance... With the release of the hero who had struck down Janusz, the assassination case in the imperial palace of Tiandu finally drew to a close. From that point forward, however, all officers above the rank of decurion had their sidearms confiscated. Those weapons had once been a symbol of their status. Now, only officers heading to the front lines could draw sidearms and ammunition from the logistics department. As for the rank-and-file soldiers on duty at various posts, a system separating firearms from ammunition was implemented by squad, where one person's misdeed incurred collective responsibility for two. More than that, the organizational structure of direct bodyguard units beneath the rank of myriarch was completely reshuffled. Previously, the bodyguards attached to command units at every level were handpicked confidants promoted by the officers themselves; now, their deployment was uniformly handled by the logistics department, and promotional evaluations were likewise centralized in the hands of the logistics apparatus. For example, Ishel had originally been Anwo's subordinate, but he was now reassigned to serve as a bodyguard detachment (century) leader under another chiliarch. His direct superior, however, was not the chiliarch of that unit, but the myriarch one tier above. It was equivalent to breaking the sword of power apart into blade and hilt. Humans were creatures adept at learning. Just as Ishel had seen his own reflection in Orissa, Absaik had seen his own face upon Janusz's corpse. Though he refused to admit it aloud, the Heavenly King's sudden and violent death had clearly rattled him, leaving him sleepless for several nights in a row. Otherwise, he would not have been in such a frantic rush to enact a series of reforms, desperately trying to prove to everyone that he was entirely different from Janusz... even if they were cut from the exact same cloth. Yet speaking objectively, setting aside the shock Absaik had suffered and his personal motivations, the series of changes he implemented did indeed contain progressive elements. Meanwhile, though the seven rebel armies in the field had not scattered like birds and beasts, their morale had plummeted. Coinciding with Tiandu's decline and the lifting of suppression over local powers, the local factions that had been battered into a daze organized themselves to survive, either forming coalitions or seeking new patrons to resist the "scourge." From falling back in steady defeat at the start, these local forces were now capable of holding their lines, even trading blows back and forth with the Heavenly King Army. The Snake King, campaigning in the southeast, was the first to take a head-on blow from the Black Panther Army. Having previously chased the city defense forces of Snake State and Wolf State all over the map, they proved utterly fragile before the well-equipped and well-trained Black Panther Army. Forced to abandon all designs on Panther State, they dutifully retreated within the borders of Wolf State and Snake State. Coincidentally, the Dog King and Sheep King campaigning in the north also met with relentless misfortune. First, they fought several skirmishes amongst themselves over the division of spoils; then, because they undermined each other on the battlefield, Laxi from the east took advantage of the opening, and roughly a third of the northern three states' territory fell into the hands of the Mammoth State authorities. As for Gray Wolf, who had originally been holding Laxi at bay, though he continued to fight valiantly, he was increasingly powerless in the face of Laxi's growing strength and his own abysmal logistical situation. War was never just a matter of the front lines. With Alaiyang's strength alone, he could not hold back the catastrophic breach of the dam, and could only watch helplessly as Dog State, Sheep State, and Bird State were carved up by two rebels. Apart from the three kings who still flew the banner of the Heavenly King Army, the remaining four kings proved rather sensible. One after another, they led their troops back to Tiandu, changed their banners, and severed ties with their former identities. None of them were fools. They understood very well what kind of men they were, and what kind of force the Heavenly King Army truly was. They had been like an avalanche roaring down from a mountain peak, relying purely on a single burst of initial momentum to conquer half of Brahma Province. Now that the breath held in their chests had dissipated, unity of purpose was essentially gone as well. The sinking of this grand ship was merely a matter of time. Rather than going down with it, they might as well capitalize on their remaining value and join that so-called Union, considering it their own way of crawling ashore from the Everflowing River. The trajectory of events caught all observant onlookers by surprise. In particular, the patrons of a certain noodle shop in Golden Gallon Port were astounded. People had assumed the seven warlord kings in the field would develop into a formidable force not to be trifled with, only to discover that they had vastly overestimated the capabilities of these amateur insurgents... ... In early February, an early drizzle lent a damp chill to the air of Tiandu. This year's rainy season seemed earlier than in past years—nearly two full months early, in fact. It seemed Brahma Province was not entirely immune to the extreme climate shifts of the wasteland. At the northern gate of Tiandu, long queues formed as people were inspected one by one before entering the city. Staying close to Pangolin's side, Penny, wrapped in a long robe, warily observed her surroundings. Only half a month had passed since they last came here, yet the scene had changed so much she could barely recognize it. First, the men with bandages wrapped around their arms were nowhere to be seen, replaced by squads of soldiers in crisp gray uniforms patrolling the streets in neat formations. These uniforms were brand new, as if recently purchased. Second, the vendors lining both sides of the street seemed far more numerous than before, filled with the rising and falling din of hawking and peddling, creating a lively spectacle. According to Pangolin, Grand Commander Absaik of Tiandu had reportedly lifted the curfew. Consequently, even villagers living further away pushed small carts carrying their local produce into the city, no longer fearing that the long journey would prevent them from returning home before dark and leave them to be rounded up and beaten by the grunts. Speaking of which, it was worth noting that the Xilan coins originally issued by the Xilan Empire had ceased circulating. However, the new authorities had not adopted a blanket invalidation. Instead, they allowed Brahma Province residents to take their Xilan coins to reformed joint-stock banks to exchange them for a new currency called "Brahma coins." This new money was issued with the full credit backing of the authorities and commissioned to be printed under authorization by the mint in Golden Gallon Port. It exchanged with Xilan coins at a one-to-one ratio, required resident registration to exchange, and was capped at ten thousand per person. The recovered Xilan coins were naturally canceled directly, while the new currency released into circulation served to inject liquidity into the market. Rumor had it that this, too, had been the Alliance representatives' idea, aimed at minimizing the impact of regime change on the middle and lower classes. During this period, they had been hiding in the countryside of Ox State, only returning once the local situation had stabilized. Watching the checkpoint draw nearer, Penny looked toward Pangolin and could not help whispering, "Entering the city now... is it really going to be all right?" Seeing how jittery Penny was, Battlefield Atmosphere Group smiled with quiet confidence and gently reassured her, "Relax, I've already checked." Before setting out, he had specifically hopped onto the forum to ask, confirming that there would be no trouble before making the trip. In fact, far from there being trouble, the current State of Brahma authorities could hardly wait to open negotiations with the Legion. The smell of gunpowder in West Sail Port was growing more pronounced by the day, with crates upon crates of ammunition being shipped ashore. Although the Alliance was still mediating through diplomatic channels, the State of Brahma authorities had clearly prepared for the worst. This war was in all likelihood unavoidable, but negotiations could at least buy some time. Apart from the three kings and Alaiyang who were still causing a ruckus, the rest of Brahma Province had essentially formed a united front; while perhaps not an iron monolith, at least they would not be stabbing each other in the back. In addition, reinforcements from the Alliance were steadily arriving ashore. At a time like this, even securing a tiny bit of extra time was a godsend for the State of Brahma authorities. For Battlefield Guy, who had already compared notes with the Alliance envoys, the current situation was crystal clear. Representing the civil administration faction of Triumph City, he would offer recognition of the State of Brahma and endorse their purge of the Heavenly King Army's remnants, in exchange for "acknowledging the Legion's de facto control over West Sail Port" and "confirming the continued validity of treaty-port agreements signed by the old empire." While this risked offending the Southern Legion, the massacre at West Sail Port had already caused both sides to tear off all pretense of cordiality. There was no room left to worry about keeping up appearances. This was not only Mr. Bannote's intention, but also the unanimous consensus of Triumph City's civil administration faction as a whole. They had no desire to take part in the Southern Legion's reckless gamble. Leaving aside the odds of success, winning brought no real benefits, while losing would forfeit everything they had painstakingly cultivated in Brahma Province. As for the State of Brahma leaning toward the Alliance, that was no great concern either. Those fickle opportunists had never possessed any loyalty to speak of; if push came to shove, they could always be won back later. The line to enter the city moved forward slowly until it was finally their turn. Without a second word, Battlefield Guy pulled a crumpled document from his coat and proclaimed his identity. "I am Pangolin, envoy of the Legion! Have your leader come see me!" The six soldiers guarding the city gate were completely dumbfounded by the declaration. The civilians behind them in line also froze, instinctively stepping several paces back. Seeing how everyone backed away in dread, Penny grew anxious. Her palms sweating, she clutched the corner of Pangolin's coat, pressing herself almost flush against him. Finally, one of the soldiers snapped to his senses, blurted out a hasty "Wait here!" and sprinted behind the gate without another word. Before long, the centurion on duty came jogging around the corner from behind the city wall. Just as Battlefield Guy had anticipated. A warm, eager smile was plastered across the man's face—a complete contrast to the ferocious brutality seen half a month prior. After inspecting the document in his hands, the centurion's smile grew even broader, bordering on servile. "Please come in, Mr. Envoy, please come in! Our Grand Commander has been expecting you for a long time!" Battlefield Guy gave him no warm reception whatsoever, looking down his nose at him like a true Wilante, barely dipping his rather modest nose in a slight nod. "Lead the way." The centurion took no offense in the slightest, nodding with an accommodating smile and making a courteous welcoming gesture. "Right this way, please!"