But Joanna Ward was completely oblivious, assuming everyone was afraid of her. She grew even more arrogant and domineering, planting her hands on her hips and shouting at the crowd, her pride so imnse she seed to have lost all sense of proportion:
"I’m telling you, my family is loaded! We have connections! Don’t talk to about rules or waiting in line! My husband has frostbite, so he has to be the first one seen and get priority treatnt! You’d better wise up and get a doctor over here imdiately, just for him!"
She pointed her finger in the registration soldier’s face, her attitude utterly insolent. If he hadn’t been holding a rifle, she probably would have lunged at him.
"If you dare cover for Victor Keller and refuse to grant us special privileges, I’ll report you and keep going all the way up the chain! I’ll make sure every single one of you pays for this! Money makes the world go round, and in here, even the rules have to make way for my family!"
As she shouted, she tried to forcibly drag Zachary Lynch through the main entrance, still yelling, "Get out of the way! Everyone, move! We have money! It’s only right that we get priority treatnt!"
"Halt!"
A cold command rang out from the tent’s main entrance. The voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable authority that instantly silenced all of Joanna Ward’s hysterical screaming.
Everyone turned to look and saw a stern-faced duty officer with prominent epaulets striding toward them, followed by two fully ard guards whose gazes were as sharp as knives.
The mont Joanna Ward saw the officer’s higher rank, she latched onto him like a lifeline and rushed forward to complain. "Sir! You’re just in ti! This Victor Keller, he..."
"I heard you quite clearly."
The officer cut her off, his icy gaze sweeping over her. His tone was completely devoid of warmth. "First, this is a public shelter, not a private hospital. Second, all personnel—regardless of wealth, status, or connections—will be treated in the order they were registered. This is a strict rule, and no one gets an exception."
Joanna Ward was stunned for a mont before playing her trump card. Her voice rose to a shriek. "My family has money! I can pay for priority! I’ll pay double! Ten tis the price! Isn’t it just money you want?"
"Money is useless here."
The officer spoke word by word, his voice echoing clearly throughout the entire tent so that everyone could understand:
"In the face of an extre disaster, all lives are equal. Your wealth doesn’t an you’re superior to others. Your anxiety doesn’t give you the right to disrupt the order for everyone else. Every single person here has endured the freezing wind and snow of negative fifty degrees. Every single person is at risk of frostbite. No one is more special than anyone else."
He pointed to the Shelter Managent Regulations clearly posted at the entrance, his voice ringing with conviction. "Before the rules, all are equal. You need dical attention? Fine. Get in line. If you dare to charge the registration desk, disturb the peace, or try to abuse your privilege again..."
The officer’s gaze hardened, and the guards behind him instantly took a step forward.
"...then according to shelter regulations, you will be imdiately expelled from the shelter. You alone will be responsible for the consequences."
As his voice faded, the entire tent fell silent.
Everyone stared at Joanna Ward, who stood frozen in place with a deathly pale face. Their eyes were filled with contempt and a sense of vindication.
"That officer really put it well!"
"Yeah, it was so satisfying to watch!"
"She’s been yapping nonstop. She doesn’t even have her luggage anymore, but she’s still screaming about being rich. With all this snow, what the hell good is money!"
"Serves her right!"
The crowd’s whispers made Zachary Lynch flush beet-red with sha. He wished he could find a hole to crawl into. He tugged desperately at Joanna Ward’s arm. "That’s enough! Stop making a scene! Let’s just get in line! You’re making a fool of yourself!"
Joanna Ward opened her mouth, about to throw another tantrum, but her eyes t the officer’s glacial stare and the dark muzzles of the guards’ rifles. Her arrogance was instantly snuffed out, and she couldn’t utter a single word.
The woman who, monts ago, had been screaming that money makes the world go round, now stood with her face flushed crimson with sha and anger, not daring to utter a single word of rebuttal.
"Aren’t you going back to the line?" the officer reminded her coldly.
Joanna Ward trembled but, under the watchful eyes of everyone present, could only dejectedly drag Zachary Lynch back to the end of the line, head bowed. She didn’t dare utter another word about money, priority, or privilege.
Inside the tent, registration, temperature checks, and dical consultations resud in an orderly fashion.
No one dared to speak of exceptions again, and no one dared to disregard the regulations.
No matter how fierce the blizzard or how desperate the situation, at least here, fairness was being staunchly upheld.
"It’s pretty fair here," Elliot Lawrence couldn’t help but whisper.
"Mm, it seems pretty good."
Sue Lawrence tightened her grip on her son’s hand. ’In my past life, this base never existed. But this air-raid shelter is located within the borders of what used to be Silas Hawthorne’s base. I wonder who’s in charge of this place now.’
’It’s guarded by the military, but I rember from the disaster relief etings that even that Human-shaped Weapon was always with Silas Hawthorne. If this really is his base, then I’ve hit the jackpot. As long as we can lie low here, I can guarantee my family will survive.’
As she mulled this over, she noticed a figure sticking closely behind her family. Sue Lawrence glanced back. It was Pala Sutton.
They hadn’t been far apart to begin with. After they got off the sled, Pala Sutton had deliberately closed the distance. Now, only three people stood between them.
Pala Sutton’s gaze was fixed on Sue Lawrence.
Because an officer had reprimanded Joanna Ward, the line was now quiet and moving forward in an orderly manner. Although many people were so cold they could hardly bear it, everyone gritted their teeth and persevered.
Soon, it was the Lawrence family’s turn. A device scanned their faces, and their personal information imdiately appeared on a screen.
"Vincent Lawrence?"
The soldier at the registration desk stared at the screen, stunned for a mont. "Please wait here for a mont."
He then got up and went to speak in a low voice with Nolan Quinn, the officer who had just dealt with the commotion. Both of them kept glancing over at Vincent Lawrence, Sue Lawrence, and their family.
Seeing this, many others started to notice the Lawrence family. Pala Sutton, in particular, felt a vicious, sinister smirk creep across her face.
’When did this family manage to piss off the military? They must have been found out. Are they about to be kicked out?’
’Haha! The snow outside is ten ters deep. Without a military vehicle, there’s no way to travel. You’d sink with a single step and be buried alive!’
’Sue Lawrence’s family... they’re as good as dead!’
The more Pala Sutton thought about it, the happier she beca. But then, a second thought occurred to her. ’No. Sue Lawrence has to live. I still haven’t found out where my son is or if he’s okay!’
Her expression darkened as she stared coldly at Sue Lawrence’s back. Part of her wanted disaster to befall the family, but another part of her needed Sue to survive—at least long enough for her to get so answers.
"Did that family do sothing illegal and get found out?"
"Yeah, with technology these days, they can identify anyone, from fugitives to other wanted individuals, with a single facial scan."
"Tsk, how did we end up with scum like this? First, it was that woman yelling about how rich she was, and now maybe we have fugitives..."
"Shh, we don’t know what’s going on yet!"
"Hmph. Whatever it is, there’s definitely sothing wrong with that family. Officer, people who are rotten to the core aren’t worth saving!"
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