148: Chapter 148 Refugee Camp

It was a military base.

Judging by its layout and scale, it was similar to the base Mike was at.

However, everything about it felt like a knock-off version.

A few rows of drab buildings, a command tower, a few warehouses, and a sandy training ground.

The base didn't even have a perimeter wall, only simple barbed wire fencing.

The watchtowers were all made of wood, with soldiers on guard duty, but the weapons they used were of a completely different, inferior tier.

But that wasn't what made Qin Ce's eyes widen.

What made his eyes widen was what lay outside the military base.

Shacks.

Densely packed shacks.

Stretching outward from the edge of the base, they blanketed the area all the way to the foot of the distant mountains.

Those shacks were constructed from a variety of materials—scrap metal, torn tarps, dried tree branches, and even a few door panels scavenged from who knows where.

Some were crooked, barely standing.

Others had half-collapsed, yet people still lived inside.

Between the shacks were narrow dirt paths, the ground packed hard and gleaming with a dull luster.

The air was permeated with a complex stench: the smell of woodsmoke, the rot of garbage, and the sour, acrid sweat of human bodies.

The number of those shacks was ten times that of the military base.

At least ten times.

Qin Ce had been a commoner since he was a child, and his family was not wealthy.

Before becoming a Beast Tamer, his cleanest set of clothes was a school uniform washed until it turned white, with frayed edges at the knees and cuffs.

He remembered that in winter, his family couldn't afford coal, so his mother would go to town to pick up leftover coal cinders, mix them with yellow soil to make coal balls, which gave off a choking smoke when burned.

He remembered these things, so he thought he knew what poverty was.

But the scene before him left him speechless.

Outside those shacks, people were moving about.

Old men, women, children, and some men whose age was impossible to tell.

Their clothes... if those things could even be called clothes, were almost completely tattered.

Those covered in patches were considered decent; most people were draped in pieces of rags stitched together, tied around their waists with straw ropes, barely covering their bodies.

Children ran barefoot in the mud, their soles cut by gravel and shards of glass.

A little girl who looked only four or five years old squatted at the entrance of a shack, clutching a scrawny stray dog to her chest, her eyes fixed straight on the jeep.

There was no curiosity in her gaze, no fear, only a hollowness that made Qin Ce's chest feel tight.

"This... this, this..." Qin Ce pointed at the refugees, not knowing where to begin asking.

Staff Officer Sun looked in the direction of his gaze and let out a long sigh.

The sigh was drawn out slowly, as if it had been pent up for a long time.

He turned off the engine and began to explain the origin of this refugee camp to Qin Ce.

His voice was lower than before, as if afraid of being overheard by the people outside.

"These people come from all sorts of backgrounds," Staff Officer Sun said. "Some are family members of soldiers who committed offenses. Not major ones, perhaps not even real offenses, but nominally they violated military discipline and were demoted to the Wuji Army. Once demoted, they can't go back, so their families followed them and settled down here."

"Then there are the unregistered residents who fled from other cities. You know how it is; policies vary between the Federation's cities. Some are strict, some are lenient. In places with strict regulations, you can't move an inch without identification. Those without status have no choice but to flee to places with looser rules. Fengling City is considered lenient, but the Wuji Army is even looser—so loose that there are almost no rules."

He paused and pointed in a direction deep within the shantytown: "A family lives over there who fled from Lianxing City. The son offended a local powerful clan, and the whole family was hunted down. They spent half a year on the run before finally hiding here. No status, no money, not even a place to stay. The Wuji Army took them in; the man does odd jobs at the base, the woman helps people wash clothes, barely scraping by."

"Then there are the wanderers. Drifting from one city to another, with no purpose, no direction, stopping only when they can't walk any further. Wherever they stop becomes home. These people are the most pitiful; they have nothing, not even a story to tell."

He paused and added, "And some were born here. These people marry and have children among themselves, reproducing generation after generation. They have never left this place and don't know what the world outside is like. To them, the Wuji Army is the sky, and this shantytown is the earth."

Qin Ce remained silent.

He thought of Yuntai Town, thinking of those neighbors who, while poor, at least had an identity, a home, and were managed by the town government.

But these people had nothing.

"The Wuji Army and they have a symbiotic relationship," Staff Officer Sun continued, his tone becoming a bit more level, as if stating an objective fact. "These people survive by the protection of the Wuji Army. Without the Wuji Army, they would have been eaten by fierce beasts long ago, or driven away by patrol teams from other cities. And the Wuji Army cannot do without them either."

Qin Ce turned to look at him.

"The Wuji Army's mission is to clear out the fierce beasts in the North and maintain the security of the defense zone. But the Wuji Army lacks manpower, funding, and equipment. All those dirty, tiring, and miscellaneous tasks—hauling supplies, repairing fortifications, logistics support—are all done by these refugees. After they finish, they get a bite to eat. Some refugees work well, slowly learning to use weapons and fight against fierce beasts, and are then absorbed into the Wuji Army as official members."

He glanced at Qin Ce's expression, hesitated for a moment, and then added, "Actually, there is another very important reason that you might not have noticed. The Wuji Army has a very high attrition rate. People die in every mission. When people die, they need to be replaced. Where do we replace them from? From the refugees! Those children who grew up in the shantytown have lived under the threat of fierce beasts since childhood; they are bold, not afraid of death, and are more useful than new recruits transferred from the city. So although the Wuji Army doesn't officially accept refugees, it has actually been recruiting from them all along."

Staff Officer Sun stopped there, suddenly remembering something.

He turned to look at Qin Ce, his eyes somewhat complex.

The young man in front of him was wearing a brand-new military uniform with the rank insignia of a captain on his shoulder, but he knew that this young man was not just here to be a captain.

He was the future commander of the Wuji Army.

The highest-ranking officer here.

And the sky over this land.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

He wanted to say that these people were having a hard time, could they be given a way to survive?

He wanted to say that the Wuji Army's rules were too strict, could they be relaxed?

He wanted to say that those children shouldn't have to live in shacks for their whole lives, could they be given a chance?

But the words died on his lips, and he didn't know how to say them.

He didn't know Qin Ce well, having only known him for a few hours and spoken very little.

He didn't know what kind of character this young man had, what kind of person he was.

If he said the wrong thing, he wouldn't just fail to help these people, he might harm them instead.

He shut his mouth.

Qin Ce did not notice Staff Officer Sun's hesitation.

His gaze remained fixed on the shantytown.

But he implicitly sensed what Staff Officer Sun meant.

He lowered his head and looked at the black commander's badge on his wrist.

He reached out, took off the badge, and took a look.

On the black surface of the badge, the two characters for "Wuji" gleamed with a dull luster under the grey sky.

Then he tucked it into the inner pocket of his military jacket, right against his chest.

"Staff Officer Sun," his voice was not loud, but very clear, "do me a favor. Once we enter the Wuji Army, hide my identity. Just treat me as an ordinary captain joining the ranks."

Staff Officer Sun was stunned: "Why?"

"I think that given the Wuji Army's mission model, it is highly likely they haven't been in contact with the series of changes in Fengling City. They won't know that I have taken over the position of commander of the Wuji Army."

Qin Ce withdrew his gaze from the shantytown and looked into the base, "I want to understand the situation of the Wuji Army more authentically."

He paused and added, "Besides, I don't want to go in with that identity from the start. If I do, what I see won't be the truth."

Staff Officer Sun was silent for a while, then nodded.

Indeed, the Wuji Army in various regions had no deep connection with the Federation.

Their missions were in the wilderness, their enemies were on the other side of the rifts, and they rarely even dealt with the military department of Fengling City.

Even during this beast tide, when Fengling City was fighting to the death, they didn't mobilize the Wuji Army to defend the city.

It wasn't that they didn't want to, but that they didn't dare.

The Wuji Army's personnel were too mixed, their composition too chaotic; who would be responsible if something happened after letting them into the city?

So they were only given one order: hold the spatial rift to the northwest and don't let the fierce beasts there take the opportunity to surge in.

As for Qin Ce taking over as commander, the Fengling City military department knew, the City Lord's Mansion knew, and the Five Major Forces knew.

But did the Wuji Army know?

Not necessarily.

Such news didn't travel that fast, and even if it did, the people below wouldn't care much.

Who became the commander made little difference to them.

Actually, there was one more thing Qin Ce didn't say to Staff Officer Sun: he also wanted to see if there was anyone here he could use.

The Wuji Army's efficiency was much faster than Qin Ce had expected.

Following Qin Ce's instructions, Staff Officer Sun introduced him to the Wuji Army's reception office only as an ordinary "captain sent from the military department."

The person at the reception office glanced at Qin Ce's transfer order and then at his shoulder insignia—captain level, three copper bars.

Then they flipped through the roster and found a vacant position.

"There happens to be a vacancy. 3rd Battalion, Seventh Squad, the squad leader was lost last week while on a mission."

The person at the reception office spoke in a flat tone, as if talking about what was for lunch at the cafeteria, "You go fill it. Tomorrow is recruitment day, you can pick people from the refugees to fill your vacancy."

Lost.

Not sacrificed, not died in the line of duty, but "lost."

Hearing this word, a strange feeling welled up in Qin Ce's heart.

Staff Officer Sun frowned beside him, wanting to say something, but seeing Qin Ce's expression, he swallowed it back.

Qin Ce's expression remained calm; he took the transfer order and asked, "Where is the 3rd Battalion?"

The person at the reception office pointed toward the depths of the base: "Keep going in, see that grey three-story building? That's it. There's a sign at the entrance."

Qin Ce nodded and turned to leave.

Staff Officer Sun followed him and whispered, "Captain Qin, are you really going to hide your identity like this?"

"What else?" Qin Ce didn't even look back.

"My identity is that of a captain." Qin Ce said, "You are right, the Wuji Army has no deep connection with the Federation. They don't know who I am, and they don't need to know."

The 3rd Battalion's quarters were in the depths of the base, a grey three-story building covered in withered vines.

Sure enough, a wooden sign hung at the entrance, with black characters on a white background reading "3rd Battalion."

The paint was mottled, and some characters were barely legible.

In front of the building was an open space where dozens of people stood, wearing all sorts of military uniforms.

Some were crisp, some were slovenly, and some were clearly stripped from corpses—several sizes too big, tied at the waist with rope.

Their Pet Beasts crouched nearby; some were dozing, some were baring their teeth at each other, and some were licking their wounds.

When Qin Ce walked in, dozens of gazes fell squarely on him.

Those gazes contained scrutiny, curiosity, indifference, and some things that Qin Ce couldn't understand.

"New guy?" A dark-faced man walked out of the crowd and looked Qin Ce up and down, "Captain?"

Qin Ce nodded: "Qin Ce, transferred from the military department."

The dark-faced man grunted, didn't introduce himself, and didn't offer a handshake, just turned and walked toward the building, dropping a sentence: "Come in. The battalion commander is waiting for you."

Qin Ce followed him.

Behind him, those dozens of gazes pursued his back; some were whispering, some sneered, some were shaking their heads.

The commander of the 3rd Battalion was a tall, thin man in his fifties, surnamed Zhou.

His hair was grey, and the wrinkles on his face were deep, as if carved by wind-blades.

His office was on the second floor, very small, with only a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet.

The desk was piled with documents, and the ashtray was stuffed with cigarette butts.

Qin Ce stood in front of the desk, and Captain Zhou sat in the chair, glancing at him.

That glance was very flat, without warmth, without hostility, just a sweep, as if confirming whether he was a living person.

"Got it, Seventh Squad, 3rd Battalion, squad leader. Go fill the spot."

Captain Zhou's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing on wood, "Tomorrow is recruitment day, you can pick people from the refugees to fill your vacancy. Also, today the teams will be swapping people internally."

He paused, took a document out of the drawer, and pushed it in front of Qin Ce: "This is the current roster for the Seventh Squad. Take a look and get an idea of where things stand."

Qin Ce opened the roster.

The first page listed the organization of the Seventh Squad; a full squad should be fifty people.

But there were only twenty-three actually listed on the roster.

Among them, five names were marked with "injured," three with "missing," and two with "pending processing."

Full strength of fifty, twenty-three on the books; those available to use were likely fewer than fifteen.

Qin Ce closed the roster and looked up at Captain Zhou.

Captain Zhou had already lowered his head to look at another document, obviously not intending to say anything more.

"Thank you, Captain." Qin Ce said.

Captain Zhou grunted, not even raising his head.

Qin Ce turned and walked out of the office.

Qin Ce tucked the roster into his jacket and strode down the stairs.

Down on the open ground, those dozens of people were still there.

The dark-faced man was leaning against the wall smoking; seeing him come out, he exhaled a puff of smoke: "Which squad?"

Qin Ce looked at him and replied: "Seventh Squad."

The dark-faced man nodded, stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, and turned to walk away.

Hearing this news, the others also dispersed one after another.

This inexplicable behavior caused a flicker of unease in Qin Ce's heart.

It felt like something was wrong!