Dark Ruins Dawn

Chapter 31 Distinguished Guest
Each battalion needed to select criminals who were "appearable in appearance," and Zhuang Fan and Hua Sheng were on the list.

They were herded into a sealed room and instructed to wash off as much coal dust and grime as possible from their bodies with cold water and bristle brushes.

After washing up, they changed into the gray uniforms that were uniformly issued to them.

The fabric was rough, like it contained sand, and it chafed my skin until it burned.

With everything prepared, they were taken to the outside of the tunnel in the border area.

The guards arranged them into two rows according to their height.

The wind rushed in from the deep tunnel entrance, stirring up the sand and gravel on the ground, which stung my face slightly.

An hour passed.

The guards' leather boots made a monotonous "snap" sound on the gravel road.

Two hours.

The sun slowly slid from overhead toward the western ridge, stretching their shadows longer and longer.

In the line, a middle-aged man began to sway; they hadn't eaten all day.

The guard next to him walked over and lightly tapped him on the back with the butt of his rifle.

The man groaned and forced himself to stand up straight.

As evening approached, the sky turned a dusky yellow.

Zhuang Fan and the others' legs had gone numb, but the legendary big shot still hadn't appeared.

An armored vehicle drove up from a distance.

The messenger jumped off the vehicle and whispered a few words to the head of the guards.

The order was quickly relayed: the important figure's trip was postponed by three days.

There is no explanation.

This news brought a collective sigh of relief to the various levels of management in the criminal camp.

After taking off his glasses, the border commander rubbed his eyes and said in a deep voice, "Gentlemen, this is a good thing."

He looked around at everyone.

"As you all know, His Excellency the Administrator values ​​the visit of our distinguished guests from Zhongdu more than our own lives. He just emphasized to me that we must present our best appearance."

The commander emphasized the words "spirit and appearance".

"Do you all understand what this means?"

A slightly overweight battalion commander chimed in: "Understood. It's all about keeping things neat and orderly, making those criminals look... well, docile."

"Tamed? Not enough."

The commander shook his head. "His exact words were, 'We must make them appear to 'maintain their loyalty and hope for the city even in the midst of suffering.'"

He paused for a moment, scrutinizing each battalion commander.

"In other words, the environment in our border area can be poor, dilapidated, and even 'appropriately' poorer, but it cannot be dirty or chaotic."

"Why?" a battalion commander asked, puzzled.

The commander glanced at him as if he were a fool.

"Only in this way can we avoid appearing incompetent, and ensure that even in the most difficult circumstances, we maintain a resilient order."

The chubby battalion commander suddenly realized: "Let the important people see our 'true' side, but not in a way that would make them uncomfortable."

"That's right!"

The commander was satisfied. "If we do a good job, then His Excellency the Administrator will have enough reason to plead poverty to those big shots in Zhongdu who are drinking fine coffee, and ask for next year's funding and supplies. Only then will our lives be easier."

"so."

The commander slammed his hand on the holographic map. "These three days aren't for rest; they're for us to make this play even more realistic!"

“I don’t care what methods you use, in three days I want that important person to see a ‘thriving poverty’ and a group of ‘healthy refugees full of hope for the future,’ understand?”

"Understood!" The voices rang out in unison.

A large-scale "purification operation" was launched.

The main road and walls were washed again and again by high-pressure water guns.

The criminals, each with a metal brush in hand, lay prone on the ground, scraping away the black grime that had been neglected for decades.

The rusty areas on the metal railings were also coated with a thin layer of gray paint.

The mountain of industrial waste piled up in a corner of the camp had to be cleaned up within a day.

The criminals worked in pairs, lifting and carrying the heavy waste materials, hiding them in shipping containers, and then covering them with huge tarpaulins.

From a distance, they look like rows of grave mounds.

The next day, the silence command was issued.

Within 72 hours of the order taking effect, any "unnecessary noise" will be recorded and punished.

The definition of "unnecessary noise" is vague, its type and timing are uncertain, and the battalion commander can only guess at it.

Coughing, groaning, arguing, or even talking in one's sleep can all be considered violations.

Some battalions began to intensify their efforts, urgently installing noise detection and monitoring devices in every corner, from dormitories to the mines.

More and more battalions followed suit, and the whole area fell into an eerie silence.

To avoid being misjudged, the refugees communicated with eye contact and the simplest gestures, deliberately keeping their footsteps soft and even their breathing cautious.

at night.

The man who shared the same hideout with Zhuang Fan had injured his leg while moving scrap materials during the day and was groaning in his sleep.

The green light on his collar flashed silently.

Two minutes later, the dormitory door was opened.

Two night patrol guards entered, without turning on the lights, and their footsteps were very light.

They went straight to the bed and dragged the man off the berth.

The man woke up with a start and tried to struggle.

A hand tightly covered his mouth.

He was silently dragged out of the dormitory and disappeared into the darkness, never to return.

Watson has a history of lung disease and is prone to coughing at night.

Several times, he felt an unbearable itch in his throat, as if it was about to burst through his trachea.

He bit his lip hard, veins bulging on his neck, his face flushed red.

In the end, he forced back the agonizing cough.

In order to create a "healthy and efficient" image of migrants, each camp conducted another population screening.

Criminals with obvious injuries or illnesses, such as a slight limp, scars on the skin, or a persistent cough, will be selected from their respective teams.

They were locked in a dark, poorly ventilated abandoned warehouse, with the door locked from the outside.

Some who were too badly injured, or deemed "unsightly," were executed directly in the warehouse.

The gunshots were muffled, absorbed by the thick walls.

The hideout where Hua Sheng and Zhuang Fan were located originally had one hundred people, but after screening, only fifty remained.

The empty half of the berths silently reminded them that no one was safe.

On the third day, to ensure "absolute safety," a riot control drill began.

The guards were fully armed, wearing riot masks, and their weapons were replaced with high-pressure water cannons, stun batons, and tear gas.

Zhuang Fan and Hua Sheng's team were randomly selected to play the "criminals".

They were herded to an open space.

"Zi-"

The high-pressure water jets slammed into the crowd, sending them tumbling and rolling on the muddy ground, unable to stand up.

The guards marched forward in unison, their stun batons striking each person who tried to get up with pinpoint accuracy.

"Crack-"

Blue arcs of electricity leaped, and those struck experienced muscle spasms, violent convulsions, and groans.

The tear gas canisters spun on the ground, hissing and emitting white smoke that quickly spread.

Zhuang Fan wanted to curse loudly, but after inhaling the white smoke, his lungs felt like they were being burned by flames, and tears flowed uncontrollably.

The whole world became blurred. By the end of the exercise, a lot of people were lying on the ground.

Many refugees were injured, and some were even beaten and crippled, and were dragged away by the guards like dogs.

The commander was very satisfied with the exercise and requested that the remaining two be scheduled as soon as possible, as they would be welcoming distinguished guests that afternoon.

Because the important person who is coming soon likes the number "86".

Therefore, the 86th Battalion was selected as a "model battalion".

Therefore, Zhuang Fan and Hua Sheng were able to leave this meaningless exercise ahead of time.

They were given a new task: to revamp the assembly line.

The oldest and most damaged machines in the workshop were dismantled and moved away.

Brand new equipment was brought in.

Zhuang Fan and several other criminals lifted the heavy machine base to the designated location.

Subsequently, a small group of refugees whose appearance was not so "fierce" were selected and asked to wash themselves clean and change into work clothes.

Zhuang Fan and his companion were also among them. They stood at the back of the line, heads down, their expressions unreadable.

An administrator stood in front of them, repeatedly instructing them on their lines, as if training parrots.

“If you are asked, just say that labor has allowed us to find our value.”

He said in a flat, emotionless tone: “You also have to say that you are full of hope for the future.”

"Remember?"

"remember."

The voice was weak and feeble.

For Zhuang Fan, the only good news these past few days is that the nuclear group has suspended the screening and will continue after the bigwigs leave.

The sky was overcast on the afternoon the important figure arrived.

All sinners on the planned parade route must pass through a temporary disinfection tunnel.

High-pressure nozzles spray a large amount of water mist from above.

Inferior disinfectants have an unpleasant smell and are slightly corrosive.

This is not for their health.

This was simply to ensure that the important person wouldn't smell the lingering stench of poverty emanating from them.

The convoy slowly drove out of the tunnel.

A deep, rumbling sound echoed through the tunnel, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

At the very front were two Baron heavy mechs, exuding a suffocating sense of oppression.

The mecha is six meters tall, with six thick mechanical legs supporting its massive body. Each step it takes causes a slight tremor in the ground.

On each side of the aircraft is mounted a heavy machine gun, the dark, multi-barreled muzzle of which is very intimidating.

On its arms are two electromagnetic steel blades flashing with eerie blue electric arcs, and a flamethrower is mounted on its shoulder.

Zhuang Fan had no doubt that if the "Baron" were brought to the front lines, the efforts of those mutant soldiers would appear utterly naive and laughable.

Following closely behind were six multi-functional armored vehicles, their thick armor covered in scratches.

Further down the list are the vehicles used by important figures.

It's not a fancy hovercraft, but a clean and robust all-terrain exploration vehicle.

The car body was painted black with sharp lines, and its tires were taller than an average person's.

Behind the convoy were six more armored vehicles, and a large armored vehicle that resembled a mobile fortress, its roof covered with numerous enhancement antennas.

Zhuang Fan knew it was called "Swarm Fortress".

The forward compartment has four gun barrels, while the rear compartment is even larger, each carrying five hundred drones and mechanical spiders that can be released at any time.

It is also figuratively called the honeycomb tank.

With a slight mechanical sound, the roof of the exploration vehicle slowly opened to both sides.

There were two girls sitting in the car.

After the canopy opened, the blonde girl on the left instinctively covered her mouth and nose with a clean white handkerchief, her beautiful eyebrows furrowing slightly.

The girl on the right has an Asian face.

She has a classic oval face, fair skin, and naturally red lips without any makeup.

She wore frameless glasses, and behind the lenses, her eyes were clear and bright, full of curiosity about the world.

Her long, black hair was smooth and silky, without a single stray hair.

She was dressed in a simple, practical off-white outfit with no brand logos visible.

But the cleanliness and material quality of the work clothes worn by the migrants on both sides of the tunnel, which had been washed until they were almost white, formed a stark contrast.

Zhuang Fan watched from afar as a memory that didn't belong to him was triggered.

【Nan Yiwei】

Zhongdu's most popular young musician, bestselling author, and the youngest recipient of the "Ivory Tower Award".

It has countless fans.

However, Xu Renyi once gave a brief evaluation of her works: "Dung without nutrition."

Later, as her father's status rose, Xu Renyi changed his evaluation to: "Exquisite but nutritious excrement."

Her father is Nan Canghong.

The 12th Governor of Central Taiwan, and also the highest-ranking official in the SUPP government.

Xu Renyi had a fairly good impression of this man:
He is an upright and honest ruler, someone who is difficult to corrupt with money and power.

Many memories became blurred, and Zhuang Fan stopped retracing his steps.

"I told you, this car is uncomfortable at all, it's so bumpy," the blonde girl complained softly.

"Lolo, is it what you said last time, that you were tired of riding in hovercars and wanted to try the feeling of being on the ground this time?"

With a slight smile, Nan Yiwei turned her head and glanced at both sides of the tunnel.

"And you can also smell fresh air."

"Ugh, it's not fresh at all, it stinks."

Nan Yiwei ignored her complaints and her tone became devout: "Any great work must originate from the most authentic experience."

Lolo, having barely adjusted to the outside world, put down the handkerchief and joked:

"I know, our Weiwei will definitely write a groundbreaking work, and I'll be your number one reader."

Zhuang Fan watched from afar, and only then did he notice that among the guards who came down from the armored vehicle was Battalion Commander Xie Ke'en.

It turned out that his mission was to protect the emperor.

There were several battalion commanders in the escort team, but only Xie Ke'en wore the most crisp uniform, his hair was combed neatly, and he looked clean and refined.

Because he was the only tour guide.

Lolo looked at Xie Ke'en:

"I heard there was a big earthquake here, even the tunnels collapsed, but everything's fine now, isn't it?"

"Yes, Ms. Wirtgen."

With a humble smile, Shekorn said, "Thanks to the workers' tireless efforts day and night, the tunnel has been repaired."

Lolo Wirtgen, the darling of a top family, also had to bend down and serve him.

"With such a large workload, they must be very tired," Nan Yiwei asked with concern.

"Labor can give sacred meaning to every drop of sweat."

Xie Ke'en knew Nan Yiwei well and answered in a poetic tone:

"Everyone is working hard to build the city, adding bricks and tiles to it. Occasionally, some gravel will fall and cause injuries, but this is also a badge of honor and proof."

"Their stories deserve to be remembered."

An idealistic light shone in Nan Yiwei's eyes. "I must dedicate a separate chapter to them in my new book."

"Ms. Nan, it is an honor for the workers."

(End of this chapter)