At the exact time the train incident took place, "Voice of the New Era," a radio station affiliated with the Survivor Daily in Settlement No. 1, was hosting Settlement Representative Gu Ning in the studio for an interview.
Ever since the turmoil surrounding the blockade of City Hall, Mr. Gu had been thrust onto the crest of public opinion.
Some radicals viewed his actions as a betrayal of the principle to "unite all forces that can be united," yet quite a few conservatives believed his actions were precisely upholding the Alliance's unity.
Facing the host's questions, Gu Ning pondered for a moment before sharing his view.
"Within our ranks, there are comrades with radical views who believe everything can be redeemed with love, that everyone can be united... even groups whose values are diametrically opposed to ours. I don't wish to judge whether they are right or wrong, but I must say that this self-righteous notion is exceedingly naive, and that naivety will lead us into the abyss."
The host had not expected the representative to put forward such sharp remarks in a public forum. An expression of surprise flitted across his face, and he followed up:
"Yet the Wilantes' values are also diametrically opposed to ours. Why do you believe they are more worthy of uniting with?"
Hearing this, Gu Ning raised his hands with a chuckle.
"No, no, no, you've mistaken a crucial point. Wilantes whose values are diametrically opposed to ours wouldn't join us in the first place. Even if they stood right at our doorstep, they would spit on the ground with vicious contempt.
"As for those who choose to join us, without exception, every single one is fed up with evil militarism and colonialism. Not only do they share our values, but their courage, loyalty, faith, and other fine qualities will instead become our sturdiest shield in defending our equality."
At this point, his tone shifted, and looking at the host opposite him, he countered:
"On the contrary, let me ask you... Why do you assume a Wilante's values must be opposite to ours? Or do you see people as machines that come with factory settings?"
Clearly not expecting the question to be thrown back at him, the host froze for a couple of seconds, his expression turning awkward.
Realizing his slip of the tongue, he quickly denied it.
"Uh, that's not what I meant... I actually meant the Legion."
"I understand," Gu Ning nodded. "Stereotypes aren't easy to shake off, especially when you're surrounded by a crowd of 'pitiful people.'
"And it is precisely those seemingly pitiful folks I want to address. I don't wish to blame the victim, but was their suffering caused by us?"
Looking at the momentarily tongue-tied host, Gu Ning continued unsparingly:
"To this day, most survivors in Golden Gallon Port live in leak-proof houses, and they even have subways that we don't! I know that's an industry funded by the Baiyue Company and that it's a commercial venture, but we still cannot overlook the fact that right here in Settlement No. 1, many residents are still living in shipping containers—and they are people who need uniting too!
"You might say our population isn't large enough to need a subway, but we could certainly use more and roomier houses, couldn't we?
"We have helped them far, far too much. And how have they repaid us? Throwing tantrums and rolling on the ground in front of civilized people, while bowing and groveling before barbarians... Because we're easy to talk to, they demand that we green-light every one of their absurd, unreasonable demands and tolerate them time and time again.
"They've barely had a taste of a good life, and already they want to preach to us about how to live, convinced it's for our own good. Tsk, tsk... I shudder to think what their faces will look like once they actually have money. Will they turn around and act like our daddies?"
Seeing that Gu Ning was on a roll, the host hurriedly coughed to cut him off.
"I must say, that's only a small fraction of people. The vast majority of those we helped have participated in our construction. You must look at the silent majority."
"That is precisely my point." Gu Ning snapped his fingers and sat up straight, fixing his gaze on him. "Excluding this small handful of ungrateful ingrates to make room for more people who truly deserve saving—that is the best approach for everyone."
The host looked at him hesitantly.
"That sounds too impractical. How do we determine who is an ingrate?"
Gu Ning replied without hesitation:
"Simple. We don't determine it individually; we raise our own standards and enforce them strictly! Issuing Alliance ID cards simply because someone is Polo or Wilante is irresponsible to all the citizens of the Alliance.
"They must work first, receiving education while they work, and then pass an evaluation by relevant authorities! The Alliance already has a 'supervised person' system. That's good, but it's not enough. We should establish a dedicated regulatory department instead of leaving everything to time.
"They must realize that the Alliance isn't their latrine. After making a mess of their own homeland, they ought to reflect on why things ended up that way, rather than moving to a new place and continuing to ruin it. Since some wastelanders are simply incapable of adapting to civilized life, they should go back and stay in their zoo."
Host: "Mr. Gu, I must say there are many objective reasons involved. The suffering they endured wasn't entirely of their own making. If we trace back to issues from the Human Alliance era—"
"You're right, but I am a representative of Alliance citizens. I speak only for the people I represent," Gu Ning stared at the host, his tone earnest. "Listen, we can't wait until the Alliance's problems are too deep-seated before pondering whether past policies were sound. Someone has to step up and hit the brakes before it's too late... Nobody can stop a speeding train instantly. We have to start decelerating well before the bend, and then determine what speed to travel at based on the road conditions ahead. Do you understand what I mean?"
The host rubbed the bridge of his nose nervously.
"I think I get it... You're saying now is the time to hit the brakes."
Gu Ning leaned back in his chair and continued in a relaxed tone:
"More or less. If no one dares to wade into these muddy waters, let me be the brake pad. At the very least, we can't let the radicals keep flooring the gas pedal. Once we turn into the Legion or the Polo Empire, hitting the brakes will be too late."
The interview was about over.
The host was about to wrap up the show when his assistant jogged in and slipped a sheet of paper fresh out of the printer into his hand.
Glancing down at the sheet, the host's expression shifted slightly. He adjusted the microphone on the desk.
"Breaking news: this station has just received word that an incident has occurred on the train from Weifu City bound for Settlement No. 1. Over a hundred settlement residents attempted to block the train... resulting in two dead and one injured."
As he spoke, the expression on the host's face suddenly turned strange.
Because merely half a minute earlier, the representative sitting right across from him had used a train as an analogy.
Did this guy's mouth have a prophetic touch?
A surprised look also crossed Gu Ning's face; evidently, he hadn't anticipated such an uncanny coincidence either.
He picked up the glass on the desk, took a sip of water, and blurted out:
"I hope the folks on the train are all right... And please don't tell me the train-blockers were Polos."
The host coughed lightly.
"Mr. Gu, as a representative... please mind your position and words. Who they are doesn't matter."
"It's nothing. I didn't mean to target anyone. It's just my sincere wish that it doesn't always turn out to be them."
He set down the glass, feigning a pensive look, before adding a moment later:
"Perhaps we should add a new law regarding our trains... prohibiting anyone from blocking trains on the tracks."
***
Within mere minutes, the "Train D97 Incident" spread throughout Settlement No. 1 and Weifu City.
When hearing what triggered the whole incident, everyone was left stunned and speechless.
Just to meet the Alliance's Administrator, over a hundred survivors had actually come up with the outrageous stunt of blocking a train.
Even more absurdly, the Administrator they wanted to see wasn't even on that train, but was sitting in the station waiting lounge like any other delayed passenger.
Rather than an accident, it was more like an absurd farce.
Especially when reporters arriving at the scene discovered that the demands of these "train-blockers" were to expel all Wilantes from Settlement No. 1 and dissolve the Alliance's Representative Assembly, even those who sympathized with them wore complicated expressions.
Had these people gotten a bit too carried away?
Regrettably, apart from Jeremy, who seemed to have had an epiphany, most Polos didn't realize what on earth they were doing.
When reporters asked if they knew a train couldn't stop immediately, they tearfully denounced the vicious speed of the train and displayed the scrapes and bruises they sustained while scrambling out of the way.
When asked if they realized their actions were illegal, opinions diverged.
Some jumped up in fury, shouting that they were already suffering so much, so why should the law persecute them even further? Others pleaded into the cameras, begging the folks of Settlement No. 1 to treat them leniently, considering that Polos had contributed to building this railway.
In truth, if they had simply said "we didn't know" honestly, they might have garnered some sympathy—at least far more than deflecting and throwing tantrums.
Yet they refused to do so. When rules were meant to be followed, they exerted every ounce of strength to resist them—a stark contrast to how meek as sheep they had been back in their homeland.
Even the reporters covering the scene were left dumbfounded by their utter unreasonableness and inability to communicate.
In fact, most journalists in the Alliance were quite sympathetic toward the survivors from Brahma Province.
On one hand, the Survivor Daily traced its origins back to Boulder City, an "old revolutionary base"; on the other hand, many Moon Clan refugees had actively participated in developing the Alliance's southern regions, spawning a substantial number of media outlets and media workers from among them.
These reporters had already been considerate enough to ask questions slanted in their favor, yet their behavior ended up making all the radicals who sympathized with or supported them look like clowns.
The moment the incident occurred, Settlement No. 1's representative, Suka, rushed to the scene.
He arrived a step behind the reporters, but not by much.
Watching his compatriots tearfully denouncing the Representative Assembly in front of cameras, and seeing Jeremy standing numbly among the crowd, Suka strode forward, seized Jeremy by the shoulder, and roared in a voice trembling with suppressed rage:
"...Are you out of your minds? Dissolve the Representative Assembly... Why don't you just ask to dissolve the Alliance while you're at it?"
Jeremy turned his head blankly to look at Suka, that refined, well-mannered young man.
He recognized the fellow, remembering he was also of the Moon Clan, and even recalled his original surname.
Unlike himself, Suka had made it. Not only had he attained Alliance citizenship early on, but he had also become an official—a regional representative for Settlement No. 1...
Heh.
Quite the climber, wasn't he?
Color gradually returned to Jeremy's face, and that look of "it's all over" warped in an instant into pure hatred.
Suddenly, he clamped his hand onto Suka's arm, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. It looked less like grasping at a lifeline and more like dragging the person who had ruined everything straight down to hell with him.
"You traitor... Why won't you help us?"
The grip on his arm was like an iron clamp, yet it was far less piercing than the curse of "traitor," which stung Suka's heart like needles.
His expression twisted as he broke free from Jeremy's grip and shoved the man's shoulder away.
Having never lost his composure since becoming a representative, he let out a hysterical roar for the very first time:
"I didn't help you? Didn't I warn you not to act rashly?! I told you more than once that haste would only ruin things, that everything had to be taken step by step... And what did you say about me behind my back? Did you really think only you could hear your own words? And now you blame me for not helping you!"
Jeremy, however, seemed deaf to his words. His vulture-like eyes glared fixatedly at Suka, and he reached out to choke his neck.
"You bastard... Made it big and forgot your roots! Other people might have forgotten your name, but I remember it clearly, Kasidem! Don't you forget: you're a Moon Clan! You're a Polo! I am your brother! I am!"
The scuffle between the two finally drew the attention of the guards nearby.
At first, seeing that one was a representative, they didn't really want to intervene. But seeing that he was about to get into a fistfight with a "criminal," they couldn't just watch him make a fool of himself before media cameras.
Settlement No. 1 hadn't built its TV tower yet, but Weifu City had its own television station.
Rumor had it that the esteemed Administrator was there, and might very well be watching behind a screen.
Guards wearing exoskeletons strode up, pulled Jeremy back behind the cordon, and pulled Suka away.
The officer handling the scene walked over, stared at the disheveled Suka, and said in a warning tone:
"This is a crime scene, Mr. Representative. If you continue obstructing law enforcement, I'll have to invite you to have a chat in our car. Or would you rather explain yourself to the prosecutors?"
He was a Wilante who had previously served in the Eastern Legion before coming here with the Southern Construction Corps, later being discharged and transferring to the local Security Bureau.
Unlike the young wastelander lads in the bureau, he had been tolerating these people for a long time.
Once upon a time, there were people who wanted to wipe out every last Wilante too, but at least they used guns, not their mouths.
Suka didn't look at the officer who pulled him back. Stunned, he merely stared at Jeremy, who looked like a wild beast wishing nothing more than to tear him apart, and took two steps back.
After a long, long time, he forced out a single sentence:
"My surname is Su."
Perhaps that man named Gu was right. The Alliance had reached the point where it had to take that step.
At the very least, they needed to make the "supervised person" status function as it should...
This wasn't just directed at immigrants from Brahma Province; the Alliance needed to raise the threshold for obtaining an ID card.
Except for those from trusted survivor factions, any survivor without background sponsorship must undergo comprehensive education and regular inspections by relevant authorities before obtaining full citizenship.
It was time to establish an immigration bureau.
Whether the old man heard him or not, Suka hurriedly straightened his collar and fled the scene in disarray before the reporters could reach him.
***
For three full days, the "Train D97 Incident" dominated the headlines of Settlement No. 1 and Weifu City.
Though some radical reporters selectively downplayed the outrageously absurd rhetoric of the train-blockers, the Alliance had more than one newspaper, and the press could hardly be monopolized by any single faction.
Moreover, besides right-leaning newspapers, there were outlets like the Goblin Observer, run by trolls who had neither tact nor sense of atmosphere.
By the morning of the day following the incident, survivors across the entire Alliance knew the train-blockers were Polos.
This farce caused a sensation not only in Settlement No. 1 and Weifu City, but even flew across the sea to Golden Gallon Port and Mammoth City.
A total of 120 people were identified as perpetrators.
This included the two who tragically died and the unfortunate fellow who paid with a leg.
Of them, 82 were Alliance citizens.
Aside from the organizer, Jeremy, who was sentenced to 100 years of imprisonment, the remaining participants received sentences starting at a minimum of 10 years.
"Rewarding tantrums" and "the law does not punish the masses" did not exist in the Alliance. If Settlement No. 1's prison couldn't hold them, there were always the mines in Qingshi County.
Besides, around a hundred people were nothing; back when the Alliance conducted its crackdown outside Boulder City, they had rounded up an entire penal battalion, and a tour at the front line cured all sorts of bad habits.
As for the remaining 38, their status was "supervised persons," meaning they had not acquired Alliance citizenship.
After collecting their biological data, the court sentenced them to deportation back to their places of origin.
Naturally, this didn't mean they were exempt from serving time; they were merely serving it in a different place.
Long ago, the Alliance had signed extradition treaties with friendly survivor factions, and such judicial cooperation went hand-in-hand with economic cooperation.
According to information provided by labor agencies and shipping companies, they would be sent to Golden Gallon Port, the State of Brahma, or Mammoth State.
As for certain Polos hailing from West Sail Port, they would be taken in by the prison in Golden Gallon Port.
The most absurd aspect of the whole farce was that its actual impact far exceeded the direct economic damage it caused.
Through their unique performance art and parody of radicals, the royalist remnants from Brahma Province successfully turned every radical inside the Alliance who sympathized with Polos into a clown, while making Alliance citizens who had enjoyed good times for too long suddenly realize they had become a bit overly "progressive."
Now, the debate between conservatives and radicals was no longer about "shortening or extending the probation period for supervised persons," but had shifted to discussions on "establishing a dedicated regulatory agency to enforce specific supervision rules, and whether to implement a points-based system."
As for the extreme radicals who had previously clamored that "supervised person status is outdated," they all shut their mouths and played mute, saying not another word.
In truth, those left embarrassed and discredited were far more than just the radicals within the Alliance; the authorities of the State of Brahma and Mammoth State, who relied on their support, were equally humiliated.
This incident undeniably sounded an alarm for them.
If public sentiment in the Alliance swung right as a result, curbing support for the resistance movement in Brahma Province, it would be catastrophic for the various nations in Brahma Province that had yet to shake off their dependence on aid...
Inside the Leader's Manor in Tiandu.
Looking at the report reprinted in Golden Gallon Port's edition of Survivor Daily, Absaik was so furious his nose nearly twisted out of shape. He slammed the newspaper hard onto his desk.
"Utter nonsense!"
He had gone to great pains to project an image of enlightened governance for the Polos, showing outside survivors that Polos could stand on their own two feet, only for this bunch of royalist diehards who had fled abroad to turn around and slap them all in the face.
Yet to be honest, aside from his exasperation over their failure to live up to expectations, he felt mostly helpless.
He knew these people all too well.
Those under Laxi were like this, and wasn't he himself the same?
Even his handpicked Education Commissioner, Kabaha, was considered an enlightened man—he wrote brilliant essays, and his abilities were beyond reproach—yet he, too, couldn't kick that wretched habit of "bullying the weak and fearing the strong," snarling at whoever showed him a pleasant face.
If Absaik hadn't protected him, who knew how many times that fellow would have died already.
Standing before Absaik's desk, Internal Affairs Commissioner Wadiya said with a grave look:
"I heard this has caused a massive uproar within the Alliance. I wonder if it will affect the Alliance's support for us."
Absaik rose from his desk, paced half a circle around the office, and let out a long sigh:
"I'm not worried about that. Given the breadth of vision and stature of that Alliance Administrator, I don't believe he will."
Perhaps because he occupied a similar position, he saw it clearly.
That gentleman's helping hand had never been born out of sentimental pity, so it naturally wouldn't be cut off over mere disgust or similar feelings.
Resisting the Legion's eastward expansion was both a strategic necessity and a matter of values for the Alliance.
They opposed the oppression of survivors by militarism and authoritarianism, using that as their banner to unite more oppressed survivors.
They had an absolute resolve to win this war, and the same held true for the Southern Legion.
Pausing, Absaik added with considerable worry:
"However, there is no guarantee they won't wash their hands of us after the war ends... and that is what worries me most."
Once the war was won, they, as pawns, would naturally cease to be as vital as before.
According to past precedent, in orderless wastelands, the Alliance helped local survivors establish their own order.
Whereas in lands with an existing order, the Alliance allowed the locals to decide their own fate.
Sunset Province was an example of this.
Yet Brahma Province was not Sunset Province. In this land of a Thousand Clans and Thousand Gods, too many contradictions had accumulated. Leaving aside Laxi's attitude, Absaik hadn't even settled the troublemakers under his own command.
Occasionally, he couldn't help sighing: if only those who kowtowed and worshipped the Alliance's Administrator could share just a sliver of that devout faith with him.
At any rate, the Heavenly Palace had fallen. He had never had much obsession with the throne in the past, and now he had abandoned the thought entirely.
In the future, taking a step back on both sides, taking turns as top leader, and letting time dilute the tensions wouldn't be out of the question either.
Seeing Absaik lapse into anxiety, Internal Affairs Commissioner Wadiya's expression grew solemn, and he said in a low voice:
"...If things truly develop to that point, we must make preparations in advance."
Absaik nodded.
"Mm, the earlier we prepare, the better. When I have time, I should also talk with Laxi and ask about his stance on the three northern states. If it can be resolved peacefully, we should try our best to use peaceful means."
As he spoke, his gaze suddenly fell on a particular line in the Survivor Daily—the interview with a representative named Gu Ning.
That fellow was a conservative within the Alliance, and reasonably speaking, should be considered his "enemy."
Yet for some reason, Absaik couldn't bring himself to dislike this total stranger. On the contrary, he resonated quite a bit with what the man had said.
Abruptly, he spoke up:
"Wadiya, tell me, do you consider me a civilized man, or a barbarian?"
Hearing the Leader's sudden question, Wadiya froze for a few seconds before hastily answering respectfully:
"Leader, you are certainly a civilized man! Does that even need asking?"
Absaik let out a dry chuckle.
"No wonder, then."
Chapter 910