Chapter 908: Chapter 908: Let Us Meet the Manager!
To the north of No.1 Settlement, near the ruins of Haibei City, Anthony sat in the barracks, cigarette in mouth, flipping through a novel he had bought from a nearby settlement.
Since successfully negotiating a deal with the Goblin Corps, he had been promoted from Centurion to Centurion, now managing the entire area from the outpost to the camp.
After the Torch war, the various armies of the Sticky Community had not immediately withdrawn from The Hague Province. A ten thousand troops of the Eastern Legion remained in the Haiye Province, continuing to scavenge the scant remaining spoils and explore pre-war ruins.
Although the Southern Legion and the Alliance were fiercely battling in the Poluo Province, the relationship between Triumph City and the Alliance was not too bad, and the Eastern Legion followed Triumph City’s lead... at least for now.
Therefore, the so-called outpost here was more of a formality, where both sides declared their military presence.
So far, the 37th ten thousand troops of the Eastern Legion and the local garrison of the Alliance had not had a single military conflict.
They even occasionally took on jobs from nearby settlements to eliminate Looters, Mutants, Alien nests, and guard the railroad lines.
The Alliance usually paid them in silver coins, which could be exchanged for quite a few good things to improve their lives from the nearby settlements and passing merchants—like cigarettes, soft drinks, and vodka.
Anthony initially found it hard to adapt to this lifestyle, but over time he got used to it and would even go to the bar in the nearby settlement for a couple of drinks during his rest time.
As usual.
Feeling a bit numb from sitting too long, he got up to stretch, leaving the engrossing novel. He picked up the rifle leaning against the table, ready to stroll around and stretch his muscles.
However, just as he stepped out of the barracks, a Centurion ran up to him, saluted, and reported.
"Sir, there’s a group of about 120 Residents from a settlement on the eastern railroad, roughly a hundred-person team."
Anthony yawned and said impatiently.
"If they’ve come, they’ve come. Why bother with them."
Occasionally, Scavengers would come around to pick up scraps since this area was considered a pre-war city site, and they could always find something.
As long as they didn’t approach their construction site and disrupt the work, Anthony generally didn’t bother with them.
However, the Centurion looked embarrassed and said.
"But... they’ve taken over the railroad, and it’s the patrol section the Railway Operations Company contracted to us."
"Huh?" Anthony was momentarily stunned, taking a while to react, asking puzzledly, "Why are they occupying the railroad?"
The Centurion smiled wryly and said.
"I don’t know, I tried to communicate with them, but they were unwilling to talk to us."
Anthony’s expression shifted uncertainly.
After pondering for a moment, he decided to check it out for himself before making a decision, so he looked at his subordinate and said.
"Take me there."
The Centurion breathed a sigh of relief, saluted, and said.
"Yes, sir!"
The two hurried to the dirt road next to the outpost, got into the open-top jeep parked there, and quickly drove towards the railway not far from Haibei City.
From the back seat of the car, Anthony could already see, from a distance away, a group of people standing on the railway.
Among them were elderly people, children, and even women holding babies.
They were holding wooden signs and banners.
The patrolling ten-man squad stood nearby, facing them in a tense standoff.
Perhaps emboldened by their numbers, they showed no fear, their expressions and emotions even more agitated.
Anthony took out his binoculars, glanced in the direction of the crowd, and happened to see the words "Vellante People Get Out" written on a wooden sign, causing his brow to twitch fiercely.
"Damn... are these guys here to cause trouble?"
"I don’t know," the Centurion smiled bitterly, hesitated for a moment, then said, "they seem like survivors from the Poluo Province... maybe it’s related to the Vellante Street Act recently passed by No.1 Settlement."
Anthony had heard about that incident.
Due to some things happening in Evernight Harbor, the Vellante people fled here in large numbers, over five thousand at once, sparking dissatisfaction among the local Poluo people.
In his opinion, the Alliance was too kind.
Under the rule of the Vellante, where did these Poluo people get so many bad habits?
Even in West Sail Port, governed by incompetent civil officials, these guys were only worthy of kneeling on the ground and licking boots.
Now they’ve barely stood up, and they want to turn things around and be the masters.
"...What should we do?" seeing his superior squinting his eyes in silence, the Centurion hesitantly asked.
"What to do..."
Anthony chuckled coldly, took the pu-9 submachine gun hanging from the car door, and chambered a round with a click.
"The Alliance spoiled this muddy lot, but I’m not the Alliance, and I’m not indulging them."
With that, he raised the muzzle and fired a series of shots into the sky.
Hearing the sudden burst of gunfire, the people standing on the railroad flinched.
Some fled from the crowd, but quite a few stood their ground.
Among them, an old man did not retreat, glaring at him with eyes full of anger and shock.
"What do you want to do!"
Seeing that the other party was finally willing to communicate, Anthony jumped off the open-top jeep, carried the submachine gun, and walked to the side of the railroad, facing the old man.
"That’s what I should ask you, what the hell do you plan to do."
"It... it’s none of your business!"
The old man glared fixedly at his nose, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. It was unclear whether it was due to extreme anger, intense fear, or both.
A young man beside him took a step forward, mustered up the courage to say to Anthony.
"This is the Alliance’s railroad... we are Alliance Citizens, and this section of the road was built by us, we have the right to stand here—"
"Right... haha, hearing this word from the mouth of a Poluo is truly rare, but what’s the use of telling me this crap, I’m not an Alliance Citizen."
Anthony impatiently dug in his ear, looking at them with hostile eyes, and suddenly thought of something, smiling broadly as he said.
"Let’s make a deal, I won’t ask what you’re planning. Since you’ve come this far, why not walk another ten kilometers ahead. Once you pass a road sign, that section of the road won’t be under our control, and you can do whatever you want with the railroad, and no one will care."
"But here, if you want to fight for that so-called ’right’ of yours, I suggest you go back and bring your guns."
Hearing this, there was a commotion among the people standing on the railroad.
Especially the few leading old folks exchanged glances and whispered among themselves.
"We didn’t come here to fight... It’s not worth clashing with these Vellante people."
"Makes sense..."
"We’ve already walked over a hundred kilometers anyway, another ten kilometers won’t hurt."
However, some expressed concern.
"But... heading further north leads to the Wasteland, where entire areas are uninhabited zones. What if we run into Variants?"
Seeing the worried expression on the man’s face, the elderly leader lowered his voice and said,
"There’s a watchtower every few dozen kilometers along the railway, and the areas we pass also stay away from water sources, so it should be safe."
After these guys talked for a while without any conclusion, Anthony, who had just finished a cigarette, threw the butt on the ground and stomped it out, shouting impatiently.
"Hurry up, have you agreed on a result after all your dawdling?"
Seeing that the officer was impatient, the leading old man finally stepped forward and responded.
"We agree to your terms!"
Anthony impatiently waved his hand.
"Then get moving."
Although the attitude of these Vellante people was not likable, those standing on the railway ultimately didn’t say anything and continued to walk along the railway, grumbling.
The matter was settled, Anthony returned to the car and nudged the driver’s seat with his knee.
"Start the car."
The driver skillfully started the engine, looked into the rear-view mirror, and asked,
"Back to the camp?"
"Back to what camp, follow them."
Anthony chuckled and cursed, casually secured the Submachine Gun by the car door, and then looked toward the group continuing along the railway in the distance.
He didn’t know what they were up to, but he always felt that following these people would be entertaining and much more interesting than sitting in the barracks reading novels.
As he instructed the driver to keep a distance and follow this group, the Poluo people, who continued heading north, nervously whispered among themselves.
"Those Vellante people are following us..."
"What do they intend to do?"
"Surely they’re not planning to wait until we reach the Wasteland to quietly deal with us, right..."
"Impossible, the Alliance isn’t blind! Unless they want to start a war with the Alliance!"
"What if the Eastern Legion really has that idea... they’ve fought before."
A pessimistic atmosphere spread silently, and some people began to think of retreating.
Seeing these timid folks, the leading old man was filled with anger.
It was the same way back in the Horse State!
This useless bunch would often lose their resolve at crucial moments; no wonder they couldn’t achieve anything significant.
His name was Jeremy, he came from Mammoth State and was once a veteran of the Moon Clan Resistance. After Laxi came to power, he left angrily, first arriving at Potato Harbor, and later moving on to the No.1 Settlement.
Like his fellow Moon Clan member Su Ka, he also tried to follow the representative route, but due to the Moon Clan Resistance’s poor performance in the Horse State days, he couldn’t convince the Moon Clan to rally around him, nor could he gain the trust of the Mouse Tribe or the Snake Race.
Honestly, this was quite normal, as the people he attempted to unite were inherently the hardest to unify.
If he emulated Su Ka and sought to rally local survivors, he might have stood a chance, but he had no intention of reflecting on any issues within himself and instead blamed all his difficulties on the wrong environment.
In his view, the Alliance’s Representatives had become tools for political manipulation; those conference folks would go to any lengths to gain people’s support...but they had no clue what people truly needed.
No Poluo person would agree to let the Vellante people come ashore. What right did that man named Gu have to let them ashore!
Did they consult his opinion?
He viewed it as nothing less than the oppression of a minority by the majority, not order!
Alas, the Manager stands too high to see the suffering below. While the Manager may have good intentions, those below him misconstrued them.
But that’s okay.
He will plead with the Manager to disband that already corrupted Representative Conference:
The Alliance once saved him.
And now, it is time for him to save the Alliance!
This is not only for the good of the Alliance but also for everyone living on this land!
Jeremy firmly believed in his choices and harbored no doubt that he was the most loyal one.
Looking at the hesitant steps of his kinsmen, he couldn’t help but shout.
"Don’t make so much noise, can you show some backbone! You have already come this far; are you planning on turning back now and letting those feckless weaklings laugh at you!"
The shout had some effect, and everyone immediately swallowed their words of discouragement.
However, this was not because of backbone or any other reason, but because of the latter half of his words—
They didn’t want to be laughed at.
Jeremy continued to capitalize on this momentum, shouting at the crowd.
"Think about your kids and your family. Do you want them to live with those big-nosed... Slave Owners!"
"If that’s not enough, think about those who died at West Sail Port and Lion City!"
No one doubted his words by this point, and the hesitant steps grew more determined.
In a crowded settlement, a ten-kilometer journey is long, but in the desolate Wasteland, it is short.
They marched like devout pilgrims, completing the final stretch with determination.
Finally, they left the section of railway guarded by the 37th Ten Thousand Troops.
Jeremy stopped and shouted at the car behind.
"Is it okay now!"
The Centurion Anthony, sitting in the open-top jeep, replied with a smile.
"Yes, beyond that signpost ahead of you, you can do as you please."
Jeremy shouted back at him.
"Then why are you still following us? How long do you plan to tail us?"
Anthony took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it with a smile.
"That’s our business, nothing to do with you."
After shouting this, he looked at the Centurion sitting next to him.
"When’s the next train?"
The Centurion hesitated for a moment and said softly.
"It should be soon... Maybe in half an hour?"
"Tsk, why is it taking so long?"
Anthony squinted towards the direction of the old man, only to see them gathering on the railroad tracks again.
At this time, a young man walked up to Jeremy, speaking with a hint of hesitation.
"Mr. Jeremy... I don’t mean to doubt your plan, but can we really wait here for the Manager?"
Jeremy held his ground and said.
"Definitely! I read in the newspaper that the gentleman is coming by train... Either today or tomorrow, we brought food and water, at worst we’ll camp out here overnight."
The crowd exchanged glances, then someone asked softly.
"But... The newspaper didn’t say which train the gentleman is on."
Jeremy’s expression froze but quickly recovered his calm demeanor.
"That’s easy to handle, there are only a few trains in total, we can stop them and ask."
This idea seemed a bit reckless, but it was perhaps the most reliable at the moment.
The Manager is unlikely to be on a freight train, which already ruled out half of the possibilities.
The trains coming from the north are mainly freight trains, with only four or five passenger trains a day.
Although it might cause some trouble for those on the train, their plea to the Manager is ultimately for the greater good.
A group of people set up camp on both sides of the tracks, and some tired individuals simply sat on the rails to rest, tearing open canned food to eat, just like a picnic.
The sight of that group devouring food made Anthony hungry, and he couldn’t help but swallow a mouthful of saliva.
However, regrettably, he only had compressed biscuits on the train, so he could only nibble on the brick-like biscuits to satisfy his craving.
At this moment, a rumbling sound came from a distance, and although the train was not yet visible, it seemed not far away.
The young man sitting next to Jeremy tossed away the can and stood up excitedly, looking at the old man beside him and volunteered.
"I’ll go stop the train."
Jeremy nodded appreciatively.
"Go ahead, kid."
Under the admiring and respectful gaze of many eyes, the young man took off his shirt, waved it, and ran towards the approaching train.
While running, he shouted towards the approaching train with all his might.
"Stop! Stop quickly!"
The shouting was loud enough, but unfortunately couldn’t penetrate the soundproof casing.
Let alone across several kilometers...
The two sides advanced for a while, until the distance between them was only a few hundred meters. The train conductor in the cab vaguely saw a young man running on the rails, waving his shirt, with his mouth seemingly shouting something.
The conductor’s face instantly changed, hastily activating the braking system, and then sounded the horn to alert.
The brake attached to the wheels sparked tiny specks of fire, producing a teeth-gritting metallic buzz.
Passengers inside the car felt the obvious jerk, their bodies swaying slightly on the seats.
Meanwhile, the horn outside the carriage had started going off like an air raid alarm.
The blaring sound was enough to scare off the wandering Claw of death near the railway, but for some reason, it didn’t scare away the young man waving his shirt.
"Damn it! What does this guy want?!"
"Is it a Looter?" The security captain rushing into the cab had already nervously gripped his gun.
His concern was not unfounded, as this was the Wasteland after all.
Even though the Army of the Alliance was strong enough, there were still plenty of foolish Looters.
Not to mention the brainless Mutants.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have mounted heavy machine guns and grenade launchers on a passenger train.
"I don’t think so... More like a lunatic with a screw loose." The conductor sweated profusely, cursing in his heart while praying not to collide.
He had already braked to the maximum extent. Any faster would risk a collision between the carriages. He couldn’t risk the lives of everyone on board for one reckless person.
Seeing that the young man had no intention of leaving, the deputy conductor’s face turned pale, and he picked up the communicator hanging in the carriage to call the nearest tower.
Meanwhile, the young man running on the tracks, his voice almost hoarse, saw that the speeding train was not showing any signs of stopping.
Just as the train head was about to hit, he could only helplessly jump off the tracks.
And in less than two seconds after he left the tracks, the rumbling sound passed by him, and the raging airflow almost pulled him back onto the tracks.
Seeing that the train did not heed him, the young man angrily picked up a stone and threw it at the carriage, cursing.
"Stop! Damn it!"
Why isn’t it stopping yet!
The blaring horn continued, not stopping even after the last carriage disappeared from his sight.
The young man picked up his clothes from the ground, intending to head back the way he came, but his face suddenly changed.
"Oh no!"
He suddenly remembered that everyone was still sitting on the tracks waiting for him to return with good news.
From the moment he saw the train to it reaching him took no more than ten seconds.
Although he thought they should be able to dodge, the group included not only young men but also elderly, children, and women...
"No... Wait, disperse quickly!"
Realizing the severity of the issue, he hurriedly chased in the direction of the train, just as he had run towards it before, shouting vigorously as he ran.
However, two legs could never chase down countless wheels. He couldn’t stop the train before, so naturally, he couldn’t catch up to the rumbling sound now.
Meanwhile, everyone in the front cabin breathed a sigh of relief.
Though they didn’t understand why that idiot wanted to stop the train, fortunately, the kid dodged just in the nick of time.
Now, it was up to the security bureau to handle it.
Once the railway guards arrive, they’ll naturally teach that reckless guy a lesson.
"Crisis averted..."
The conductor, wiping the sweat from his brow, sat back down relieved, only to suddenly spot a crowd on the tracks in the distance.
"Damn it—"
His momentarily calm heart jumped back into his throat, and he sprang from his chair like he’d been electrocuted.
The deputy conductor beside him was a step faster, having already re-sounded the horn that hadn’t been off two seconds, along with the just-released brakes.
"Woo——!"
The crowd sitting on the tracks stirred; some fled in fright, but not everyone was quick on their feet.
Some scrambled up in panic, others rolled and crawled away; some tried to retrieve cans from the tracks, while others found their pants snagged on track nails.
After all, there were over a hundred people; they couldn’t all move like a single person.
The three in the cabin watched in horror, their eyes bloodshot, as the uncontrollable train head barreled into the defenseless crowd, crushing an unlucky old man to pulp, then grinding over half another person’s body and a leg.
"No——!"
The conductor inside and Jeremy outside simultaneously cried out in despair.
The jolting train car and sudden braking shocked and angered the passengers inside.
The swaying car finally steadied itself on the tracks.
The conductor, with a few security personnel, disembarked to check the situation; Jeremy, nearly soiling himself in fear, rushed over with his furious companions.
"You murderer! Why didn’t you stop the train! Why!"
Staring at the unreasonable old man, the enraged conductor slapped him across the head.
"Are you insane? Do you think this is a bus or your home’s tractor?"
Jeremy was part of the Resistance, but who here hadn’t wielded a gun before?
Dizzied by the slap, Jeremy fell to the ground.
The surrounding Poluo people were aghast, looking like they wanted to tear the conductor and his "goons" to pieces.
Especially the breathless young man, who had finally caught up and, seeing Jeremy on the ground, became furious, shouting at the conductor.
"I’ll fight you to the end!!"
The enraged crowd startled the conductor, who quickly retreated into the train, grabbing a radio to call for backup.
Anthony sat in the off-road vehicle, dumbfounded, the cookie dropping from his mouth.
"Damn..."
He learned this word from the Alliance people, and now it was used on them.
So these guys went through all this trouble just for a picnic and to get two people killed?
What were they thinking?
He thought they were planning something big!
Then, the radio in the car crackled, and the Centurion beside him gave him a strange look.
"...Should we go help."
Anthony glanced at the location of the train head, right within his jurisdiction, and his brow twitched uncontrollably.
Despite his reluctance, thinking of the hefty "protection fee," he took the radio and pressed the connect button.
"...Hold on, we’re on our way."
"Damn it...hurry up! I’m afraid these madmen will tear our train apart!"
Leaning against the door, the conductor cursed, glancing outside.
Under relentless battering, the train window glass had cracked like a spider web.
Passengers inside the train were bewildered, not understanding what the people outside wanted.
The security team had already loaded their guns, but with the people outside unarmed, they couldn’t fire the first shot.
The conductor regretted knocking out that leader with a slap.
Backing away from the shattered window, he shouted at the crazy crowd outside.
"What do you want?!"
A middle-aged man shouted back.
"Let us see the Manager!"
The conductor was taken aback, unable to comprehend.
"Manager?! Then why stop us?"
The man banging on the door was also dumbfounded.
"...The Manager isn’t on the train?"
The conductor almost choked on his own saliva, shouting at the lunatic.
"Use your brain, if the Manager were on the train, could you be talking to me at the door?!"
The Guards Corps weren’t just for show!
At that moment, a gunshot rang out from a distance, startling everyone around the train, instinctively looking towards the sound.
A convertible off-road vehicle was parked nearby, with that annoying big nose standing by it wielding a submachine gun.
With a cigarette in his mouth, Anthony glanced at the old man on the ground and the bloodied train head, then looked at the troublesome Poluo people.
"Alright, everyone, stop it. I don’t care who you want to see, you’re on Vellante territory now."
Their faces still bore some defiance, seemingly unimpressed by the submachine gun in his hands.
But Anthony wasn’t in the mood for niceties or reasoning, and spoke impatiently.
"Stand in a line obediently, hands raised over your heads on the train car. Anyone who disobeys will be treated as a Looter."