This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 698: Follow me! Go get your stuff!

Chapter 698: Chapter 698: Follow me! Go get your stuff!

At the bustling harbor, next to the wharf, a cargo ship used for transporting livestock was similarly packed with people in rags.

They were expressionless, their eyes dull, just like the double-headed cows crammed into the neighboring ship.

At that moment, several men wearing exoskeleton suits boarded the deck.

One of them used a plasma gun to cut the chains fastened to the iron door, while another walked up to the crowd and, opening his helmet’s speaker, shouted loudly.

"You are free."

The deck was as silent as death.

Faced with the commotion at the bow, those faces remained indifferent, not even bothering to glance over.

Old White couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

The players following beside him exchanged glances and whispered among themselves.

"What are you thinking?"

"The Army’s clones."

"Haha, we’re on the same page."

Seeing Old White at a loss for words, Fang Chang sighed, walked over, and patted him on the shoulder.

"You’re no use like this... Let me do it."

After speaking, he stepped forward, faced the group of people crouching on the deck, and shouted in United Human language.

"We are the Alliance, an alliance formed by survivors banding together."

Old White looked at him in surprise.

Fang Chang gave him a reassuring look, and, gazing down at the bowed heads, raised his voice and continued.

"Before coming here, we met some of your suffering kin; their hard work, optimism, and courage left a deep impression on us. No matter how dire the circumstances, they never gave up... the cramped and stuffy hold, the endless journey, the disdain from others, and all you can imagine."

"Later, we found a place that could take them in. We gave them some unused wood and hay, and soon they had built rows of houses by the beach. We then gave them land and seeds, and they immediately turned it into farmland and plantations. With just a little help from us, they quickly knew where to go next."

"I thought since you are their kin, you would share some resemblance, but as we stand here, you turn your backs to me."

The voice was drowned out by the roaring tide.

Some people lifted their heads but only for less than a second, before burying them back down quickly.

As if their own eyes were too filthy to show.

Fang Chang watched them, his eyes filled with a trace of pity.

Similar things had happened in Giant Stone City, but when the whip came down, those people would move, even fight. Before the Alliance had come, the casino’s blood had flown time and again.

It was for this reason that, despite Elder Sid’s overwhelming power, he dared not be too harsh, and had to devise pretenses when necessary.

But the situation in Poluo Province was completely different.

When the noose went around their necks, not only did they accept it gladly, placing their hopes in the reincarnation of the next life, but they even learned to breathe through their asses instead of their mouths.

"... The Empire has enslaved your parents, siblings, wives, and children, selling you off to mines, quarries, plantations, all the places they themselves would not deign to go. And you crouch there, staring at the sea like an animal."

"Is this what you were born to do? Look me in the eyes! If you dare not, then look at the ship next to you, at the pigs and cows caged up. What makes you any different from them right now? A pack of hyenas in human skin tells you to sit, and you squat obediently. Do you know what we do in River Valley Province? We’d skin it alive! We’d stew them into soup!"

"Only beasts deserve to be caged; you should be making them roll in here, not squatting in their stead on this broken ship!"

"Everyone get up!"

That roar was like thunder, shattering the waves against the ship’s side and also breaking the shackles wrapped around their hearts.

Those bowed heads finally lifted, alongside knees that had brushed the deck.

The eyes that raised were no longer evasive.

In them, some displayed shock, some surprise, others blazed with raging fire and a few still held a trace of bewilderment.

But whatever it was, it was better than the previous confusion and oblivion.

Looking at those pairs of human eyes and the people gradually standing up on the deck, Fang Chang nodded slightly with satisfaction.

"Good, it seems you do have some courage, though not enough, but we will lend you the part you lack."

He said this and took out a handgun from his waist, throwing it fiercely toward the group that had risen to their feet on the deck.

Some, shocked, dodged to the side; some crouched down again holding their heads, but there were also those who bravely reached out their hands.

In the end, a man with short hair and a sturdy build snatched the gun.

He clasped the gun tightly in his hand, raised it high above his head, and stared intently at the guy in the exoskeleton.

Fang Chang was pleased with that guy’s gaze.

Generosity and bravery could be feigned, but subconscious reactions don’t lie; among these worthless blobs of mud that couldn’t stick to a wall, there were still some souls worth saving.

"Your name, tell it to me loud and clear!"

With veins bulging on his neck, the man shouted with all his strength.

"Laxi!!"

The players standing behind Old White almost couldn’t keep their expressions straight, but fortunately, no one noticed since they were wearing helmets.

Fang Chang, however, looked at the man with piercing eyes, and without changing his facial expression, he shouted loudly.

"Good, Laxi! From now on, you’re the leader of these people, the commander of the First Corps of the Avengers Alliance!"

"We needn’t wait until tomorrow; we start now! Right now, we’ll go and skin those Hyenas to see the ugly mugs hiding beneath!"

"Follow me! Go get your guns!"

"Ooooooh!!" Almost as soon as the words were out, deafening roars erupted from the deck, pairs of murky pupils completely ignited by anger and yearning.

They looked fervently at the man standing at the bow, as if they were looking up to their god.

The players standing behind Old White and Fang Chang exchanged surprised glances and whispered to each other over the comms channel.

"That’s something."

"What does Brother Fang Chang do in real life?"

Old White looked at Fang Chang, his expression somewhat puzzled.

"Weren’t we just here to plunder the population?"

According to the original plan, it would have been enough to bring these ships full of slaves to Potato Harbor. There they had kin, who would naturally teach them how to start a new life.

But now, handing them weapons was an unnecessary complication.

Watching the raging slaves, Fang Chang said softly with a smile,

"What good does it do to bring these people to Potato Harbor? Do we need slaves? At the way they just acted, I wouldn’t take them for even 1000 Dinars."

Old White was about to say they could use the Home of the Refugees method, but then he quickly realized that method would be too slow for this situation.

Although it had been proven that the Home of the Refugees did indeed help a great number of slaves who could not fend for themselves to master a skill and reintegrate into the society of the Alliance, its mode of operation inherently meant that the facility had its limits.

Moreover, the implementation of that thing was predicated on the premise that local survivors had the will to save themselves and were willing to help others who were suffering just like them.

Here, if you randomly pulled someone out, as long as they could cling to life they’d think they were fine, and if someone was half-dead, everyone else would think it was that person’s own fault.

Perhaps only by letting them shed some blood, would there be a slim chance to end this vicious cycle.

But just a slim one.

Seeing that Fang Chang seemed to have a plan, Old White continued to ask.

"So, what do you intend to do next?"

Fang Chang looked over at a few nearby ships, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"There are a few more ships there. After we distribute the guns, I plan to send a team with them to attack the largest prison in this settlement."

Lowell Camp on Blackwater Street.

According to Si Si’s records in a continuously updated sightseeing post, that camp was over a century ago a shelter that housed thousands of survivors. Some locals even believed that it was the precursor to the Gin Galun settlement.

However, no matter what that camp used to be for, now it has become one of His Majesty the Emperor of West Winds Empire’s personal properties, overseen by the Governor’s Mansion.

Aside from the Moon people, who were persecuted for inexplicable reasons, there were also a large number of bankrupt debt slaves and some prisoners with special identities detained there, making up as much as 5% of the entire settlement!

A month ago, the White Bear Knights had only captured and burnt down a concentration camp that served as a temporary "warehouse" for housing slaves, and its defense was not particularly strong.

Lowell Camp was, in fact, the source of the slave trade for the settlement.

Before they could implement the laws of the Alliance, they first had to uproot that place; otherwise, anything they did would be a waste of effort.

Moreover, as a symbol of royal authority, capturing Lowell Camp was exceptionally important for inspiring confidence in the local resistance forces.

Looking at Fang Chang, Old White hesitated before asking,

"Have they even received training? Isn’t this too soon for them?"

"If we act now, they’ll only face some jailers and city defense forces we’ve already crippled; if we wait a few more days, it might not be the case."

Fang Chang paused before continuing,

"Moreover, before they receive any training, what they need more is confidence. We must make them realize that their enemies are actually no match for them!"

...

The slaves swarmed off the ships, making the traders at the port drool with anticipation.

Especially a few big-nosed fellows from the West Coast, who saw the Alliance people actually drove the slaves off the ships and promptly started clamoring in urgency.

"What are you doing! Those are my slaves!" bellowed a Weilante trader angrily.

Just as Fang Chang descended the dock, he happened to see the indignant trader shouting and took the opportunity to toss the freshly removed shackles into his arms.

"Catch them yourself."

Struck in the chest by the shackles, the Weilante trader instinctively caught them with his hands, but when he looked up, he saw Alliance soldiers dragging wooden crates of weapons from the warehouse. They broke the iron chains, took out the rifles inside, and distributed them directly to his group of slaves.

The trader’s face turned ashen, nearly spitting out a mouthful of old blood.

He, of course, recognized those wooden crates—just yesterday, he had delivered them to the port warehouse to exchange for the payment of these thousand-plus livestock.

Watching those monkeys holding onto the rifles as if they were precious treasures, he clenched his teeth but ultimately swallowed the affront.

He shrunk back into the crowd, not daring to make another sound.

Facing the pairs of eyes looking at him, Fang Chang cleared his throat, raised his hands, and continued to speak.

"This dispute is between us and the Empire, and it has nothing to do with you. We’ll fight our fight; you continue your business, and even from now on, the port’s taxes will be halved."

"Of course, I’m afraid you can no longer trade in slaves—we do not recognize the ownership of persons over persons, and we do not welcome any slave traders here."

"However, if you are willing to bring a batch of goods we need from Silver Moon Bay, we guarantee you’ll make a fortune."

"We will pay in Dinars or silver coin."

After dropping these words, Fang Chang instructed players familiar with United Human language to register the identities of everyone attempting to pass through the docks, then moved on to the next ship.

As the identity registration was being completed, those slaves who had surged to the port were also armed—forming an armed force of two thousand members.

Although most of them were holding Ripper Rifles and only a few cradled Blade Assault Rifles and PU-9 submachine guns, and despite the fact that most had not received any professional military training, their willingness to fight was inflamed like a blaze.

In addition to these two thousand, many more who didn’t receive weapons were also carrying sticks and fish-killing knives, all looking fiercely determined to fight.

Aside from the elderly, women, and kids, almost everyone stood up, ready to liberate their fellow countrymen and family members, with anger simmering in their hearts.

Right now, they were like a tense string, wound from sheer willpower, and any second of hesitation could snap that taut string.

Seeing Laxi approach him carrying a rifle, his face red from rapid breathing, Fang Chang patted his shoulder.

"Don’t be afraid; we’ll fight alongside you."

Having said that, he shouted loudly to Killer Dagger and to the hundred or so ready Burning Corps brothers,

"Now! Cover our avengers, march toward Lowell Camp! Go free those imprisoned slaves!"

Those slaves bearing rifles let out an earth-shattering roar.

"Oooooh!!"

...

At noon, with the roar of a cannon tearing through the silence, the second stage of the Burning Corps’ offensive officially began, a full two days ahead of the original plan.

The territory currently controlled by the Burning Corps is mainly concentrated on the streets near the port named after tulips, separated from other city districts by a circular highway named "Knight Road" and monitored from the Governor’s Mansion to the northwest as a fire support point overseeing the vast city districts to the north of Jin Galun Harbor.

Effectively, the area currently controlled by the Alliance is like an irregular pentagon, with Lowell Camp located on the northeast side of this pentagon.

If they could take Lowell Camp, the territory actually controlled by the Alliance could extend at least one kilometer further to the northeast and form an angle with the Governor’s Mansion to the northwest, drawing a control line parallel to the coastline on the map.

At this very moment, General Abinan, who had retreated to the slums, had no idea about the Alliance’s intentions; he was still trying to rally his dwindling forces and freshly recruited toughs to plan a counterattack, hoping to rescue the governor and the nobles living on Tulip Street.

If he still wanted to live, this was his only way out.

However, just then, a mortar shell suddenly "whooshed" down onto the newly built defensive line.

With a thunderous explosion, the sandbag wall in the middle of the road was instantly flipped over, and the Imperial soldiers crouching behind it were all knocked to the ground.

Before the hundred-man team stationed on the street could recover their senses, a barrage of bullets accompanied by the clamor of gunfire whizzed toward them, followed by deafening shouting and killing cries from the other end of the street.

"Kill!"

"I’m going all out with you bastards!"

"Ahhhhhh!!!"

Confounded by the tsunamic battle cries, the Imperial soldiers hiding behind cover were utterly bewildered.

If they remembered correctly, there were less than a thousand-team of soldiers that had landed at the port.

Yet, listening to these ear-splitting shouts, it felt as though tens of thousands were charging at their positions?!

General Abinan, stationed in command, was also stunned.

From his position, he could see much clearer than the front-line soldiers; the Cannon Fodder charging at their position was clearly not Alliance people, but rather the lowly Moon Clan slaves!

Realizing this, rage blazed in his heart, and he clenched his fists tightly.

The despicable scoundrels!

They even handed over the empire’s weapons to those lowly slaves!

And those slaves, foolish and ignorant, had no clue what they were doing, willing to become cannon fodder for a bunch of bandits and backstab their compatriots in the Empire!

"Fire! Blow up these damn curs!" he roared, ordering the gunners to launch their attacks, while he led his guard to retreat, temporarily avoiding the oncoming sharp edge.

The three 100mm cannons set up on the street instantly spat out angry flames, sending three long tracer lines toward the crowd and blasting a blood-soaked gap amongst them in an instant.

However, that bloody scene did not send the charging crowd retreating; people have a natural detachment from death when it’s either too close or too far away.

Especially when blood spattered on their faces, and they gazed at the enemies within arm’s reach, the fury burning in their eyes became even more fierce.

These people had never regarded them as humans, the labels hung around their necks were even less worth than a Double-headed Cow.

So—

There was naturally no need to consider them human.

"In River Valley Province, we skin hyenas and wolves and make them into stews! We feed their bone broth to dogs!"

"Charge! Let me see if you’re worth saving!"

The roar was quietly submerged in the tumult of the crowd, and in just half a minute, the furious Moon Clan slaves had crossed the sandbags scattered on the ground.

Their speed was even faster than the Alliance’s mortars; within a few breaths, they plunged their bayonets into the chests of the gunners who had fired, smashed their skulls with curved knives like they were scaling fish, and avenged their hundreds of compatriots lying on the street.

Seeing this angry swarm of beasts, both the soldiers stationed at the defense line and the survivor onlookers were scared stiff.

Fear filled General Abinan’s eyes, his hands and feet ice-cold, trembling, and numb, his lips quivering and unable to utter a word for a while.

The disheveled adjutant who had retreated from the front line ran up to his side with an anxious look, glancing at General Abinan.

"Sir... those slaves have gone mad! We can’t possibly stand against them by ourselves! Let’s retreat!" he exclaimed.

A few gunners who had managed to escape from the front line were also by his side.

Under the guidance of drones, the Alliance’s mortars accurately eliminated their machine guns hidden inside the slum dwellings.

Now, they were left with fewer than four hundred soldiers. The rest had either fled or fallen, never to rise again. There was no longer any hope of a counteroffensive.

General Abinan’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his wrinkled face etched with despair.

"Retreat..." It took him some time to squeeze out the word from his throat.

To be sentenced to death by His Majesty would at least leave a whole corpse.

If those rioters caught him, he would probably be chopped into pieces and thrown into the sea to feed the fish.

As the retreat order was given, the city’s defense soldiers, who had been fighting street battles with the rioters in the slums, collapsed like a house of cards, abandoning their armor and helmets in such a sorry state that they hardly resembled a regular army.

Laxi, who led the slaves forward, was also shocked by the performance of these fellows, who usually looked decent, but were now utterly disappointing.

It turned out that those who enslaved them were just such a feeble bunch.

"Advance!" Laxi shouted to the liberated slaves behind him as he watched the city defense army scatter and flee, "Advance toward Lowell Camp!"

The response was a deafening roar of anger.

"Advance!!!"

At the same time the city’s defense collapsed, the prison manager of Lowell Camp, Sunil, had seen everything from the southern watchtower.

He had been standing there since the sound of gunfire began.

And when he saw the rioters crossing the roadblocks set up by the city defense on the main road, he burst into a foul-mouthed tirade.

"That dumb ass! He brags all the time, but when it’s time to be useful, he can’t even handle a bunch of cannon fodder!"

After cursing, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

Because at that moment, he saw the rioters scattered in the slums beginning to gather toward the direction of Blackwater Street.

It was clear that these fools had set their sights here.

These ignorant fools...

They actually dared to target His Majesty’s pocket!

The jailer beside him was shivering with fear, his back drenched in sweat.

"...Sir, what should we do?"

There might be people in the mob he had previously handled, and he wouldn’t dare let them catch him. If not for Sunil, he would have already slipped away.

In fact, he wasn’t the only one thinking this way.

When they saw the mob pouring out from the direction of the port, many cunning ones had already guessed something and taken the opportunity to sneak out the back door.

Sunil clenched his teeth, a struggle flashed across his fierce face, but in the end, fear of authority prevailed.

Nearly fifty thousand slaves were locked up here, all the property of His Majesty. Among them were not only the cheapest labor slaves but also many of quality and worth a good deal. Even if they were all sold off cheaply, they could still bring in two to three hundred million dinars, which was almost equivalent to the annual export total of Jinjaron Harbor.

If this money were lost, even His Majesty would rage like thunder, and though the penalty might be light, it would still relegate his whole family to slavery.

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, as he watched the rioters approaching. Sunil shouted loudly.

"Prepare for battle!"

The face of the jailer beside him showed a glimpse of despair, but meeting those fierce eyes, he could only muster all his courage and cry out with a sullen face.

"Yes!"

...

Normally, when a resident of Jinjaron Harbor sold all their belongings and still could not pay off their debts, and the creditor was pressing, the governor would mercifully buy off this "bad debt" in the name of His Majesty at a price acceptable to the creditor.

If this indebted survivor could pay off His Majesty’s debt within the grace period, he could regain his freedom.

If not, the notorious Lowell Camp would be his final destination.

The "prisoners" here were more like commodities for people to pick and choose. The labor force would usually be marked at a uniform price and sold wholesale to interested buyers, while those with special talents or good looks would be marked at a slightly higher price for more powerful buyers to select.

The jailers here usually wouldn’t abuse prisoners overtly; at most, they would mete out necessary punishment to lazy slaves.

However, for those who remained unsold, it was certain their treatment would only get worse. And if they weren’t sold within a year, regardless of their abilities, they could only be moved into pig pens or sent to mines that no one ever came out of alive.

Therefore, whenever the camp’s gates opened, prisoners from any block would tense up, rush to the iron barred gates, and crane their necks in anticipation.

However, unlike usual, today the gates of the blocks were tightly shut with not a sound to be heard.

...What on earth had happened?

Almost everyone had this question in their minds, until artillery and gunshot sounds that could deafen one’s ears rang out from beyond the enclosing wall.

Rows of jailers ran frantically towards the direction of the enclosing wall, firing into the streets from behind the wall’s embankments. However, the firepower from outside was as ferocious as a tsunami, and within mere minutes, more than a dozen people had fallen off the wall, leaving a shocking scene of blood stains on the open space in front of the gates.

The slaves from the blocks near the gate were startled and quickly hid further away, while outside these blocks, the situation was red hot.

The Moon people besieging Lowell Camp had already left behind over two hundred bodies, and the casualties were still mounting.

Their combat power wasn’t very strong; they were relying on numerical superiority and a burst of ferocity to overwhelm the city defense forces that the Alliance had already beaten down.

Although the jailers stationed in Lowell Camp could not compare with the well-trained city defense forces led by General Abinan, their full organization and advantageous terrain inflicted significant casualties on the assaulting "First Corps of the Avengers Alliance."

Seeing that the mob was all thunder and no rain, Sunil, the warden perched in the watchtower, finally mustered the courage to howl toward the direction of Blackwater Street.

"Ha-ha, you shameless traitors! Dare to storm His Majesty’s fortress! You must be dreaming! Just wait, the Grey Wolf Army stationed by the Everflow Riverbank is on its way here, and you will pay for your violence today!"

Hearing of the Grey Wolf Army’s fearsome reputation, many of the Moon people, including the group leader Laxi, showed a trace of fear on their faces.

But it was just a trace.

They had already reached a point of no return.

Upon witnessing the camp that had withstood repeated attacks, the Killer Dagger, observing from afar, couldn’t bear it any longer. He put down the binoculars he was holding and spoke into the communication channel.

"Are we really not going to lend them a hand?"

At this rate, it looked like many would die.

A calm reply came through the communication channel.

"They need to accomplish this on their own, no one can help them... Give them the captured 100mm cannon."

Killer Dagger nodded.

"Yes sir!"

Elsewhere, at the street corner of Blackwater Street, the Moon Clan warriors gathered behind the barricades began to organize the third round of attack. Whereas Sunil, hiding on the watchtower and seeing their helplessness, became even more unbridled, yelling towards the outside of the enclosing wall.

"Useless! Give up! You lowly, despicable slaves! You can’t even aim! Shoot towards me here! Come on! Pah!"

Although he was shouting bravely, he didn’t dare to show his head beyond the edge of the shelter, feeling secure only behind the thirty-centimeter-thick concrete wall.

The enclosing wall of Lowell Camp stood as high as a five-story building, completely made of concrete, with even its thinnest part nearly two meters thick.

With five hundred jailers stationed inside the camp, a hundred-man team was allocated for each side of the wall, leaving one team free to move as needed.

With the ammunition stored in the armory, he could defend this place until the end of time!

Staring grimly at the fortress that continued to withstand the siege, Laxi’s face grew serious.

They had already tried every method available to them, including throwing Molotov Cocktails filled with pine oil and phosphorus, constructing rickety trebuchets, and even attempting to use smoke to gain an advantage.

It was at that moment when a few Moon people carrying shovels pushed a 100mm cannon out of a narrow crate.

"The Alliance brothers gave us this thing!"

Laxi’s eyes lit up as he called out to his warrior comrades beside him.

"Who knows how to fire a cannon?"

Obviously, nobody did.

But after a brief hesitation, a dark, lean man raised his hand.

"I’ve seen the city defense forces operate a cannon! I can give it a try!"

Without hesitation, Laxi immediately grabbed his shoulder and pulled him next to the cannon, pointing at the distant gate.

"It’s all on you!"

The man, visibly nervous, picked up a pointed munition from the ammunition box, shoved it into the cannon from the back, and then pulled the firing lever.

He gestured to the warriors beside him to aim the cannon at the gate, then picked up the Huoshen and quickly ran to the side, shouting loudly at the same time.

"Fire the cannon!"

As his voice fell, he yanked hard on the firing cord, and the explosion’s light flickered through the whole alley, making the nearby houses shake.

A thick streak of tracer fire rushed towards the distant gate, leaving a large dent inward on the iron door!

Covering his ears and steadying himself, Laxi rose from the dust and saw the pierced iron door in the distance, feeling an unexpected surge of joy.

"Another shot! Quick!"

Without his command, the gunners, resolute in the face of emergency, were already figuring out how to haul out the spent shells and reload the cannon.

Seeing the pierced iron door, Sunil on the watchtower nearly pissed his pants in fright, his face losing all its earlier smugness.

Just then, the second cannon sounded, another orange-yellow tracer hurtling towards the tightly shut iron door.

Then came the third—

Finally, after enduring five barrages, the iron door could no longer bear the burden and fell backward, kicking up billowing dust on the open space.

Seeing the gate destroyed, the previously demoralized Moon people suddenly regained their hope for victory, brandishing their rifles and rushing towards the fallen gate.

"Kill them!!!"

The roar of the charge was so intense that it even shattered the smoke.

Watching the mob surge in like the tide, the guards on the enclosing wall could no longer contain their fear and began to retreat.

"Stand your ground! We must not let them in!"

Scrambling down from the tower, Sunil yelled frantically at the retreating jailers, but it did nothing to stem the tide of defeat.

The jailers on the Northeast side of the enclosing wall mustered all their strength to open the gate and fled desperately towards the slums outside, discarding their clothes and guns on the ground as they went, leaving the surviving onlookers to scramble for the spoils.

Watching the mob closing in on him, Sunil’s face showed not a trace of arrogance or pride, only fear and begging, his words so jumbled he couldn’t even complete a sentence.

"I, I was forced... I was just following orders..."

Before he could finish, the butt of a rifle came crashing down on his head, knocking him backward with stars in his eyes.

"Go to hell!"

The crowd swarmed over him, stripped him naked, and slaughtered him with random blades, hanging him on the very watchtower where he had once squatted.

The cages holding the slaves were opened one by one, and facing their familiar compatriots, the expressions on the slaves’ faces were initially bewildered but soon, driven by the atmosphere, they joined in.

The surrendering guards were gathered on the open space for execution, their pleas ignored by everyone.

Blinded by rage, the Moon people executed these imperial dogs in the most brutal of methods to commemorate their brethren lost in the siege.

Cheers of liberation echoed from within the cages, which resembled dove coops, and every slave, whether of the Moon Clan or not, joined in.

Standing at a distance, Killer Dagger reported the latest front-line situation again.

"...Lowell Camp has completely fallen. I think it would be better to take control quickly, or else if the chaos continues, there might be trouble."

Fang Chang’s voice came through the communication channel.

"...Hmm, I’ll leave this area to you. Take care of settling the liberated slaves and their training as well. We need them to have some combat power before the Regular Army arrives."

Killer Dagger made a helpless expression.

"You’ve really given me an ’easy’ job."

Fang Chang chuckled lightly.

"Do well, I have faith in you!"

"I’ll try."

After hanging up the call, Killer Dagger waved his hand and led the heavily armed brothers behind him towards Lowell Camp.

This was an unorganized rebellion.

They were not like the people of Giant Stone City, the "Pols," who had the organization of the Workers’ Association and a handbook that could barely be considered a guiding ideology.

If the violence that had nowhere else to go wasn’t restrained, it would quickly find an outlet among the common survivors who were enjoying the show without realizing the seriousness of the situation.

After all, when they had been enslaved, those onlookers had just watched with indifference. Now that guns were in their hands, it was hard to say that they wouldn’t take their anger out on those even weaker than them.

No—

It was almost certain they would.

Watching the survivor named Laxi standing in the center of the camp, Killer Dagger walked up to him and handed him a cigarette.

Laxi was taken aback for a moment but, seeing it was from their exoskeleton-wearing allies, he immediately grinned and put the cigarette in his mouth.

"Thanks, brother. You’ll always be our brothers, and we’ll never forget the help you gave us today!"

"I hope you think so," Killer Dagger said while lighting his cigarette and then lighting one for himself.

After silently finishing his cigarette, he looked at Laxi, with eyes like those of a wild beast, and continued.

"You’ve already achieved a phased victory, as you’ve seen. The Empire is just a paper tiger; the Emperor’s men are nothing but a bunch of worthless eunuchs, hyenas in human skin."

"But even a pack of hyenas in human skin isn’t easy to defeat over and over again. Remember, a starving wolf might win once or even twice, but only a human can keep winning indefinitely."

Laxi frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Killer Dagger replied, "I mean, keep your subordinates in line. The slaves here aren’t your spoils of war; they are your compatriots... I shouldn’t have to remind you of that."

"Of course," Laxi said without hesitation, "How could I be like those beasts?"

"I hope so. I hope our investment is sound and won’t bring us... some troubles of our own," Killer Dagger suggested as diplomatically as possible.

This self-defense counterattack was merely authorized by the Alliance Constitution and Player Manual. Players had the right to limited counterattack against any "neutral forces outside the whitelist" who initiated aggression against them.

The extend to which they could retaliate was not clearly defined.

The fact that Dog Plan had not stopped them indicated that they had not violated the server’s rules.

But whether they had gone against the Manager’s wishes, that was another question.

After all, this was a military action not authorized by the Manager.

The Alliance’s path was different from the "Empire route." It was about uniting the suffering survivors, and the measure of how to unite them was now in the hands of the players.

If nothing had gone amiss, the Manager should have already received the report sent by the Bull and Horse airship.

And since no one had received orders from the official online Task System to halt the military action, it could only mean that the Manager was taking a neutral stance towards this operation for the time being.

They needed to avoid doing things that might irritate the Manager, whether the consequences were direct or indirect.

Laxi furrowed his brow.

"Okay... Just tell me what to do, and we’ll do it."

His thoughts were quite simple.

Eating from someone’s hand makes it hard to speak against them, and taking someone’s gift makes it hard to act against them.

Everything they had was given by Alliance people, and they would likely rely on the Alliance’s resupply for a good while, so following their arrangements seemed right.

Moreover, Laxi, who had come this far fueled by rage, didn’t really have a clue about what to do next.

Drive the Emperor out of Tiandu?

That would be way too far from here...

Killer Dagger nodded with satisfaction and stuffed the rest of the cigarettes into the hands of a flattered Laxi.

"We are now going to train you and help you establish a proper organization... Also, we need a few photos. Could you cooperate with that?"

Laxi was stunned.

"Photos?"

Killer Dagger nodded again, looking towards a pigeon cage with its iron gate wide open.

"That’s right, we just need you to pick a few fellows who look rather pitiful and have them squat back in that cage... just for five minutes."

"You might find it pointless, but we need them to shut some people up."

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