"Go on in, this will be your new ho from now on."
The prison of West Sail Port.
This fortress built of granite is probably one of the few buildings in the West Sail Harbor District that hasn’t been baptized by gunfire.
The floor he was on was located in the deepest part of the prison underground — used to hold felons.
Hearing the jailer’s sarcastic remarks behind him, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group couldn’t be bothered with this small fry and walked in calmly.
He looked left and right, with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
The cell was very simple, and simply real. It only had a toilet and a bed, with the toilet right next to the bed. While eating, you might even have to place the bowl on the toilet lid.
The walls on all four sides were pitch black, with not even a window for ventilation, and the few air ducts were on the ceiling outside the bars.
Are they trying to stink to death here...
The Old Soldier couldn’t help but complain in his heart.
But fortunately, the room was a single room, so he didn’t have to squeeze in with other prisoners. It seed that the person who ordered him to be locked up wasn’t too comfortable having him too close to others.
As the Battlefield Atmosphere Group was carefully inspecting his new ho, the door of the bars behind him closed heavily with a "clang," followed by the sound of the iron door on the floor closing.
"Damn, doing ti in a ga... is even the prison experience this realistic?"
This damn Light must have done so field research.
The Old Soldier sighed and sat down on the bed.
As a model young person, he had never been in a detention center, yet he never expected to get such an experience in a ga.
It must be said, the experience was quite novel.
Just a bit boring.
As he was pondering in his heart whether to log off and play a few rounds of the Ga, suddenly a burst of footsteps ca from outside his lonely cell.
The cell door that had just closed was suddenly pushed open with a creak.
Hearing the commotion, the Old Soldier was imdiately invigorated, stood up, walked to the edge of the barred door, and peered outside.
He saw a Vellante soldier with a gun on his back, escorting a large group of people in.
He quickly counted, there were about forty or fifty people being locked in.
The Old Soldier was a bit confused by the Vellante people’s operation.
What the hell are they trying to do?
With the butt of his gun, the Vellante soldier drove the last person into the cell and said coldly.
"The cells upstairs are full, so you’ll have to stay here."
After throwing down this sentence, the Vellante soldier closed the door heavily, as if not worried at all that the prisoners standing in the corridor would stir up trouble.
Or could it be...
They couldn’t wait for these people to cause so commotion?
The Old Soldier’s heart was quietly vigilant.
Observing these prisoners standing helplessly in the cell, he searched among the crowd with his eyes, finally picking out a young man who looked the most honest.
Attracting the young man’s attention with his eyes, the Old Soldier beckoned him over to the edge of the barred door, looking at him with curiosity and asking,
"Who are you people?"
The honest young man replied imdiately,
"Family."
The Old Soldier was puzzled.
"Family? What’s that supposed to an?"
Seeing the puzzled look on the prisoner’s face, the young man patiently explained,
"We are from the Family eting, an organization ford by the family for the family... those over there are from the Black Rat Gang."
As he spoke, he pointed to the corner of the corridor where the ten or so people were.
The Old Soldier followed his finger and saw several guys with Mickey Mouse tattoos on their arms standing in the corner of the crowd, with a fierce look that indeed didn’t seem like anything good.
"So how did you guys... end up here?"
Speaking of the reason for being here, the young man gazed resentfully at the ten plus burly n in the corner of the crowd and, lowering his voice, said,
"Those Black Rat Gang people started it first. They set our house on fire with Molotov Cocktails, so we fought back... and in the end, we were all captured by the Vellante people."
The Old Soldier was a bit puzzled.
"Then... why did they set you on fire?"
The young man responded without hesitation,
"They fear our unity!"
The Old Soldier: "..."
Though the conversation was a bit nonsensical, he roughly understood the situation.
Turned out it was a gang fight.
Those big-nosed guys didn’t care about any three seven twenty-one, they likely saw the fire and encircled the entire street with people, capturing everyone.
Although the young man was still indignantly explaining that they started it first, the Old Soldier was no longer interested in the details of this, but beca intrigued by the Family eting instead.
They didn’t seem like just an ordinary gang; ordinary gangs don’t organize their mbers for lessons. Not only did they hold classes, but they also "deconstructed" the production labor relations of society, sothing never done elsewhere in the Poluo Line.
For example, according to the young man, the Work of the family is given by the Family eting, and the family is nurtured by the Family eting, thus they owe nothing to anyone. Instead, it is the docks and Vellante people who have stolen their blood and sweat.
For instance, production is an honor, while nurturing is a grace, and so on.
The fundantal concept of "division of labor and cooperation" in human society was rebranded as another thing in a religious manner. For this, they even invented so terminology, but no specific asurent units or calculation thods were given.
For example, how exactly to compute grace and honor, and how much honor is worthy of how much grace, these abstract concepts covered up the specifics that couldn’t be quantified or asured.
Of course, it’s also possible that these questions were answered by Zayed in so lesson, and this young man simply forgot due to lack of skill.
However, that’s not the key issue. A pipe rifle is still a rifle, and the weapons in theory are present. Moreover, they’re not just drafting scriptures but also designing so more realistic tools for themselves.
For example, there are six levels in color, such as promotion systems and so on... These things have sothing in common with the players’ contribution levels.
But no matter how the Old Soldier hears it, it doesn’t feel right.
This green trash, purple God Equip, gold legend... Why does it sound like it’s copied from so RPG online ga in reality?
It’s probably so bastard playing "outside", taking the dregs from reality and passing it on to the NPCs.
That young guy was still talking tirelessly, and the more he spoke, the more spirited he beca.
"...Zayed also told us that as long as everyone on the Wasteland is family, the Wasteland Era will naturally end. The matter was originally simple, but the people outside Poluo Province are too greedy."
The Old Soldier listened with a bit of a headache, pressing his forefinger against his brow, trying to clear up that ssy logic.
"I admit that so of what you say is right, we also think the Waste Land Wanderers outside are too greedy, always wanting more... ahem, I an people outside the Weilante People. So, are you all ready to save the Wasteland?"
Close call!
Almost exposed his undercover identity!
Fortunately, that young guy didn’t notice anything fishy, or maybe he simply didn’t realize the fellow in front of him was actually an "Honorable Weyland person", and just continued proudly.
"That’s a matter of ti, we will eventually save everyone on the Wasteland."
Old Soldier: "..."
If his understanding of the version wasn’t wrong, this version should be "by the players who have already ended their own Wasteland to save the survivors in other Wasteland areas".
Poluo Province is considered the Wasteland with the most people and the largest territory on the Central Continent. He’d rather persuade this guy to save himself first and not cause more trouble for others.
"That Family eting... get to know it?"
The Old Soldier said with a wry smile.
"I’ll pass on that... I’m not very smart, I’d probably be a drag on you guys."
The young guy showed a regretful expression, and he actually seed to feel sorry for him.
However, although the Old Soldier completely ignored his talk, the guys from the Black Rat Gang listened to it.
Not only that, they were drawn to the young guy’s generous words, and the more they listened, the more their eyes sparkled.
"Damn!"
"Your thod is great!"
"Damn it! I’ve long felt the Black Rat Gang had no future, they say they’re good for us, but each one of them just wants to make money off ... I’d rather mix with you all."
"Count in too!"
Most of the gangs in West Sail Port erged after that incident, and it has just been over a month, so naturally, most of the gang mbers have no loyalty to speak of.
And with tonight’s big incident, that fire destroyed almost half of the slum, who knows how many people died.
When daylight cos, the Weilante people will surely settle scores with them. Jumping ship now is also to avoid punishnt...
At least, that’s what those underlings think.
To them, their Black Rat Gang is surely done for!
That young guy from the Family eting was open to everyone, even forgetting past grievances, and said with a hearty laugh.
"No problem! We’ll all be family in the future! I’ll take you to register after we get out!"
A pair of eyes lit up, like candles in the dark, glimring with a trace of hope.
The Old Soldier was about to sarcastically remark "what a brilliant idea, isn’t it just damn brainwashing, even kids know it’s a scam with a new map", but he happened to catch a glimpse of the gang mbers’ passionate eyes.
They were truly moved by it.
Watching the people gathered in a circle listening, the Old Soldier squatting in the cell fell silent.
Alright.
He was too hasty...
...
Later, during a side hearing, Old Soldier learned that the young guy giving the lecture was called Ah Ming, just an ordinary family mber with no color.
That is, "whiteboard equipnt".
But according to their system, once tonight is over, getting promoted to a green family mber seems to be no problem at all.
If they can manage to get out alive...
Listening to that young guy’s tireless lecture, the Old Soldier couldn’t help but dozed off, unable to hold on and prepared to log off.
A few young guys were staring at him, or rather at the toilet beside his bed.
This thing is quite a novelty to them, after all, none of the other cells have one.
"Brother, how did you get locked up?"
"Why do you have a single room?"
"Yeah, why do you have a separate cell, and we’re all in the hallway?"
The Old Soldier lifted his eyelid, looked at the young ones surrounding the bars, and laughed softly.
"? The things I’ve done are much bigger than what you guys did."
The young ones looked at each other, all looking at him with regret.
"What a pity."
Seeing that they were concerned about him again, the Old Soldier smiled and shook his head.
"You should worry more about yourselves, figure out a way to survive tomorrow."
He closed his eyes after saying this, no longer listening to the chatter outside the bars, leaning in the corner and "slept".
A silent night.
The Old Soldier went offline to play so Alliance, indulged in so extre trash talk, and when he logged back in, he found that the people in the hallway had been taken away, leaving only a field of urine and feces in ginger yellow.
The Weilante people hadn’t prepared them a cell or buckets, they just settled it there on the spot.
The overwhelming stench made him frown, instantly understanding the sneaky intentions of these big-noses.
Well, nice!
Couldn’t take him down head-on, so they’re using such underhanded tactics to disgust him, huh?
The Old Soldier furrowed his brows, pinching his nose, and his stereotypes of the Weilante people deepened.
Just then, the sound of chains clanking and footsteps approached from outside the prison.
As the iron gate opened, Penny squeezed in through the gap holding a lunchbox.
Seeing Penny, the Old Soldier was visibly startled; he hadn’t expected this young lady to co visit him.
But he wasn’t the only one who was stunned. After seeing the ss inside the prison, Penny’s face turned pale instantly, unsure if it was from anger or the stench.
"They... actually locked you up in a place like this!"
Where’s the honor of the Weilante people?
This shaless bunch!
The Old Soldier made a helpless expression but took it in stride.
"It wasn’t like this at first, but last night they suddenly brought a bunch of people in. At that ti, I figured it wasn’t going to be anything good, and sure enough... Luckily, I fell asleep when they took off their pants, otherwise, the sight would have been quite eye-watering."
With the food those poor folks get, it’s quite a feat to be so vigorous.
The Weilante people probably brought them als, might have mixed sothing in it.
But he had no evidence, so he could only hold back for the ti being.
Watching Penny carefully walk over the filth, the Old Soldier paused before continuing.
"... So why did you co?"
Penny whispered.
"I ca to bring you so food... I was afraid you might be hungry."
Bringing food... that’s nice.
It should be noon outside now, and the Old Soldier indeed felt a bit hungry.
But slling the overwhelming odor, he had no appetite at all.
Seeing the difficult expression on his face, Penny was silent for a while, then bit her lip and said.
"... I’ll go find my uncle and have him get you a different cell!"
The Old Soldier sighed and said.
"Don’t trouble your uncle, this isn’t sothing in his jurisdiction to handle, it’s Guryang who arrested ."
"Then I’ll find this Guryang!" Penny said through gritted teeth.
"Are you crazy?" Glancing at the headstrong young lady, the Old Soldier couldn’t help but retort, "That guy’s military rank is higher than your father’s, what use is there in finding him? I’m telling you, don’t stay in this port any longer, take my advice, find a ship and go back ho as soon as possible. Once back in Triumph City, there might still be a chance."
"I won’t go anywhere until you’re safe!" Penny stared at him intently.
After a mont, her tone suddenly softened, continuing gently.
"Don’t worry about , I know you an well, but staying isn’t just my own stubbornness, it’s also what my father wants."
The Old Soldier was taken aback.
"Your father? Mr. Bennott?"
Seeing the astonished look of the Pangolin, Penny nodded seriously.
"Yes, the Civil Official Group won’t abandon you, his friends in Triumph City have already started working on it, they will do their utmost to have you extradited to Triumph City."
Hearing this, the expression on the Old Soldier’s face gradually shifted from astonishnt to disbelief.
That Bennott would actually protect him?
He was shocked!
This doesn’t make sense!
"... There aren’t any ships leaving the port, the Southern Legion has blockaded the port." Saying this, Penny’s cheeks slightly reddened with embarrassnt, "So don’t urge to go back, just let bring you food for a while."
"Wait, the port is sealed?" The Old Soldier was taken aback, urgently asked, "What’s happened outside?"
Penny shook her head.
"I’m not too clear on the specifics, I heard there was an arson last night, seed like a gang conflict? Anyway, there’s a crackdown going on outside, I heard many people were executed."
Fire.
Fire again.
The Old Soldier couldn’t help but wonder if West Sail Port had a feng shui issue, lacking the fire elent in the five elents.
But unlike the previous fire, this incident didn’t escalate much, no one organized the rioters, nor did it burn down anything major.
Since even the Legion labeled it a gang skirmish, this fire might really have been an accident.
Thinking of those young n with eyes full of light earlier, the Old Soldier couldn’t help but click his tongue, silently muttering a few apologies in his heart.
He hoped those guys were okay.
Though not too bright, they weren’t bad people at heart.
But it’s precisely people like them who easily overreact, and are easily manipulated.
"... I always feel West Sail Port won’t stay peaceful, if you can leave here, it’s better to do so as soon as possible."
Seeing the Pangolin still worried about his safety, Penny’s cheeks flushed even more.
Co to think of it, he was the sa before.
This guy himself was doing the most dangerous things, yet never worried about his own safety, instead caring for her, an outsider.
"Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself... hurry and eat while it’s hot, don’t let it cool."
Saying this, she reached out with the lunchbox, but it got stuck at the bars of the cell.
Penny’s expression turned a bit awkward, trying to flip the lunchbox but worried about spilling the contents, she went back and forth for quite a while, unable to squeeze it through.
The two of them stared at each other for quite so ti. Eventually, Penny blushed and whispered softly.
"Should I... feed you?"
Seeing her suddenly shy face, the Old Soldier’s Adam’s apple unconsciously rolled.
Suddenly, he didn’t find the air around him so pungent anymore.
"Mm... thank you."
"No, no need to be polite..."
Penny blushed and hurriedly opened the lunchbox, almost dropping the spoon, but fortunately, the Old Soldier was quick enough to catch it.
When he handed the spoon back to her, Penny suddenly realized that this guy could actually eat by himself through the barred door.
However, neither of them ntioned it.
The al took a whole hour.
Looking at the clean bowl and Penny’s face, which was as red as if it could bleed, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group felt satisfied in every sense of the word...
...
It was unclear whether it was because of the face of the Triumph Newspaper or because of Penny’s father.
Just the day after that al, the Old Soldier suddenly discovered that the Vellante soldiers surprisingly softened their stance, sending a Mouser cleaner to clean up all the sewage in the hallway.
Even though the cell still slled bad, it was much better than before.
And so, unknowingly, another week passed.
During these days, Penny kept bringing him food and would occasionally bring news from the outside.
On one hand, the crackdown in West Sail Port continued.
However, whether soone behind the scenes was manipulating it or not, the "AOE-style" crackdown on various gangs turned into a one-sided assault specifically targeting the Family eting.
This matter was indeed a bit strange.
Logically, even if the Family eting was a victim, punishing both sides equally was understandable, but to be the only one punished was confusing.
Even if the Slave Owners didn’t bother reasoning with the Slaves, they wouldn’t act so recklessly, right?
With the intention of getting to the bottom of it, he organized his questions and posted them on the Forum, and after a round of analysis from fellow users, he finally understood.
According to a seemingly knowledgeable user, the crackdown was probably not directly deployed by that General Guryang, much like how pouring sewage into his cell was likely a decision made by those below him.
When the decision is made by those below, the thod of handling the issue becos much more flexible.
Perhaps other gangs greased the palms upward, while the Family eting didn’t collect protection fees and didn’t have money to grease, so they were pulled out as an example.
Perhaps other gangs were easier to manage, and the Family eting was too large and difficult to manage, posing a hidden threat, so they were simply taken down like a fat pig.
It’s also very likely that there were Alliance people within the Family eting, as the gang’s na itself sounded like sothing concocted by a Player for mischief.
All these reasons were possible, and it was likely not just one reason but a combination of many factors.
The end result of this farce was that, after being squeezed out by various gangs, the Family eting faced the Army’s slaughter imdiately afterwards.
Those innocent people were most deserving of pity; they did nothing wrong yet had to endure the worst consequences...
On the other side, the crackdown in West Sail Port did not affect the Vellante people living at the port.
Although the high-ranking officers of the Army have always disregarded the lives of their compatriots, there’s a fundantal difference with the West Winds Empire, which treats its own people like livestock.
The Honorable Vellante people are protected by law and enjoy the highest citizen rights. Even "honored Vellante" like the Pangolins enjoy the sa.
This is why others can be executed at will, but he could still wait in prison for a trial.
According to Penny, the local Vellante people, led by a rchant nad Yarman, ford the West Sail Port citizen autonomy eting, and pressured the Southern Legion in the na of the autonomy eting, demanding restraint, non-aggression, and unconditional release of himself.
Of course, behind this was the support and even instigation of the Triumph City Official Group.
However, their loyal spirit of leaving no one behind was also exceptionally real.
When Penny talked about this, although the Old Soldier didn’t say much gratitude, he felt very touched inside.
These survivors knew to repay kindness.
They hadn’t forgotten him, who saved them, even though his contributions were not as much as others, even though he only saved more than two hundred people...
Thanks to this united force, the Southern Legion hadn’t been difficult to him recently; at least they didn’t do anything as brainless as bringing in a group to defecate casually.
Days passed by like this, and before he knew it, it was March.
The Poluo Province officially entered the rainy season, with West Sail Port experiencing several showers a day, and even a typhoon passing through that toppled street shanties.
The crackdown outside seed to finally end.
The Southern Legion, having finished whipping, took out candies from their pockets, starting to spend money to mobilize those grassroots organizations, including gangs controlling the docks, to repair damaged houses and clean streets buried in trash.
This was not because they were so benevolent, but because war was imminent.
They needed to ensure smooth transportation, operation of factories, docks, and various infrastructures, and guarantee that the grassroots forces maintaining these infrastructures were available for their use.
For this, they weren’t averse to spending a bit more Dinar, as they’d soon gain more.
Though there were storms brewing outside, they didn’t affect the Old Soldier squatting in the dungeon in the slightest.
This hellhole wouldn’t let him feel even a bit of wind, or hear any rain; at most, it was unbearable when the sewer backflowed.
However, these were minor issues that didn’t affect his life at all.
Under Penny’s conscientious feeding day and night, the Old Soldier even felt like he gained weight, even if it wasn’t noticeable.
Now, besides waiting for als daily, he also adopted push-ups as part of his routine exercise.
On one day in early March, just like usual, the Old Soldier was exercising on his bed when Penny, holding a lunchbox, suddenly opened the cell door and walked in.
She arrived earlier than usual today, and looked nervous, as if sothing major had happened.
The Old Soldier imdiately jumped off the bed, looked at her, and asked.
"What happened outside?"
Penny spoke rapidly.
"Guryang has arrived at West Sail Port! Along with him are people from the Southern Legion military court!"
Upon hearing this, the Old Soldier finally understood why she had such a nervous expression.
Turns out, she was worried about him.
However, unlike the anxious Penny, he didn’t feel restless at all; rather, he felt slightly relieved and relaxed.
After being locked up for an entire month, he felt like his bones were about to mold!
The day for the trial had finally arrived!
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