Chapter 841 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 841: Escape to Freedom "Clang—" In the pitch-black darkness where one couldn't see their hand before their face, suddenly came the clinking sound of chains. Anwo, sitting on the stone bed, felt a surge of hopeful joy and was about to stand up when he suddenly remembered something, and his heart filled with anxiety. This was the dungeon of Tiandu. It was said that those who entered here would either die or shed a layer of skin, and there were never any complete bodies carried out. Especially the torture devices hanging on the walls. Although they hadn't been used on him, they had scared Anwo enough. Since that gunshot, Abusace had thrown him in here and then nothing—not even a single visit. Though his "advisor," Echele, assured him with a confident pat on the chest that he'd be fine, Anwo couldn't help but worry, fearing that Abusace might silence him forever. At this moment, the unhurried footsteps finally reached the door of the cell. Seeing Echele standing outside the bars with a tray in hand, Anwo, whose shoulders had been tense, finally breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down on the stone bed. Signaling the guard to open the cell door, Echele slipped him some money and gestured for him to leave. Then he walked into the cell with a smile and placed the tray on the table. "How does it feel to be a hero?" "Not good at all!" Grabbing the oily pancake from the tray, Anwo ravenously devoured it while mumbling, "I just want to live. I would have preferred not to get involved in this damn mess." "It's not all bad," Echele consoled him while pouring milk into his cup. "Take it slow, you don't want to choke." "It's difficult..." Anwo shook his head with a sigh. "I've realized that this move has almost led me to a dead end." This is the tragedy of the small fry. Most of the time, he had no choice. He could only struggle a bit when calamity was upon him, gambling on an almost impossible chance. So long as Abusace found out those 200 people were still alive, even though he now leaned toward the Alliance, there was a risk of suspicion. Though glad, he might praise it openly but would surely doubt Anwo in private. After all, it was a decision made without his consent. Janusz’s suspicion was evident on his face, and Abusace was no different. They were both like drowned ghosts who rose from the river, capable of anything for their self-interest. Noticing Anwo’s worried expression, Echele lowered his voice. "It’s not difficult. The reason your life is in Abusace’s hands is that you belong to him, marked by him..." Anwo chuckled. "And that can be erased?" "Not erased," Echele shook his head but then changed his tone, "but you can add a new mark." The disappointment in Anwo’s eyes turned back into hope. "Explain clearly." Echele gave a faint smile. His eyes, hidden in darkness, resembled those of a cunning mouse, as he leisurely continued. "The Alliance’s delegation is in Tiandu, and they’ll soon meet with Abusace’s people and you. This is a great opportunity. If you can earn their favor, maybe they’ll take you to Jinganport... Once you’re there, the future will be bright, and with effort, you might even secure a position among them." He pointed upwards with his finger, not spelling it out, but his implied destination was obvious. Anwo was stunned, hardly able to believe it, swallowing hard before speaking again. "...For what reason?" Echele patiently analyzed. "The Alliance intends to mediate peace between Borroa and the local warlords to focus on external threats. They’ll need a representative to negotiate. Anyway, you won’t have to do much—the Alliance is backing the truce effort, which is an inevitable trend, and the credit will surely partly be yours... It’s practically free credit." "Such a golden opportunity... would Abusace grant it to me?" Anwo couldn’t help but question. "Who else but you? Would he leave his base to go himself? If not, he needs someone to represent him, and you’ve submitted so many loyalty tests. If not you, why send someone inconsequential like me?" Echele chuckled, adopting a joking tone. "Moreover, you made it to Jinganport's 'Survivor's Daily' special edition as a 'headline figure,' Abusace expects you to help attract some investment there." "'Survivor's Daily' special edition?" Anwo was taken aback, looking at him in disbelief. "How do you know?" "A reporter from 'Survivor's Daily' recently came from Xiangzhou. They’ll open a branch here soon, and the hero title they gave you is what you earned," Echele teased. He managed to become a hero, yet he lingered as a mouse hiding in the corners—a typical dark humor of Borroa Province natives. But it no longer mattered. The urge to become a hero in Boel was never about wanting fame; it sprouted from a hot spur moment stirred by spotting a reflection of himself on Orissa's face, hoping to stand up for the fallen one on the docks. But after taking a beating, he awoke to the truth—there was no Boel in Borroa Province. Not even an adversary to Boel existed. Naji, for instance, was skewered on the flagpole right in the “story’s” first chapter. Anwo hadn't pieced it all together; he was just astonished, his hand holding the pancake paused midair. The 'Survivor's Daily' from Jinganport had reached Tiandu? He'd long heard of that paper. Rumored to be run by the survivors of Borroa Province, writing only about local stories, not those from cities like Boulder or Dawn. He had always wanted to read it, but finding a complete edition in all of West Sail Port was impossible. It seemed a lot had happened outside during his days locked in the dungeon... ... After delivering Anwo’s meal, Echele didn't linger in the dungeon; he returned the tray to the guard and briskly left. Not long after his departure, footsteps echoed again outside, this time Abusace himself and the Alliance representative entered. "Anwo, sorry for your discomfort!" Facing Abusace, whose face was filled with apology, then looking at the Alliance representative beside him, Anwo was momentarily unsure about which role to play for his boss. They hadn't even given him a script. However, thanks to some inherent wit, his mind raced, swiftly defining his stance. "...Everything I did was for the greater good, no discomfort involved. If anyone is to blame, it’s me alone. You’ve treated me well; I won't put you in a difficult spot—" Before Anwo could finish, Abusace interrupted, dismissing his words. "What guilt is there in a grand deed for the union? If you're guilty, then we are all guilty—and guilty to the most dreadful extent!" He then gently placed a hand on Anwo’s shoulder, speaking earnestly. "Truth be told, I never believed you did anything wrong; it's just some within our ranks couldn’t see clearly. I had to protect you first, I hope you understand!" "This matter is behind us now. Janusz has been overthrown, and his supporters have scattered. I can finally let you out!" Abusace spoke many more words, and even knowing the kind of man he was, Anwo couldn't help but feel a flicker of emotion. He finally understood an old saying: sometimes, knowing less isn’t necessarily bad luck—knowing too much can indeed be painful. If he hadn’t gotten involved with the church incident, hadn’t overheard the nocturnal dialogue between the general and the envoy, hadn’t known so many backstage stories, he might really mistake this man for a flawless saint. Though he knew he wasn't entitled to voice this judgment. His motive for killing Janusz wasn't for some noble cause, there was hesitation whether to shoot at the church, and now he had to act alongside this man, contrary to his heart. "Thank you, General!" Anwo pushed the words out from his throat, much like the emotion welling up in his eyes. "It is I who should be thanking you!" Abusace gazed intently into his eyes, clasping his hands tightly, speaking with heartfelt sincerity. "On behalf of all survivors of Borroa Province, I thank you for your noble deed!" A nearby journalist captured the moment with a click of their camera. Looking at the two figures in the dark, Lorgun, standing at the group's end, slightly tilted his head, whispering to Old Dog beside him. "...See, what did I say at the start." "Incredible," said Old Dog, his face oozing with admiration, unable to resist giving a thumbs-up. "Keep it low-key," Brother Gun coughed lightly, feigning modesty. Old Wolf glanced at him sideways. "If you're so awesome, why don't you go up there yourself?" Brother Gun chuckled. "You wouldn't understand. The art of boasting and the skill of doing are two different things. When it comes to bragging, Old Eagle can’t match me. But in getting things done, he's far better." Old Eagle rolled his eyes. "There's no need to flatter me..." These guys! If they had any real use, they wouldn't be so useless! Finally, after their charade wrapped up, Old Eagle cleared his throat, stepping forward to speak with Anwo. "Mr. Anwo, though I understand you had your reasons, I hope you'll remain calm and avoid extremes in future actions." Though said to Anwo, those words were intended for Abusace standing nearby. Whether Anwo caught on or not was uncertain, but he bowed his head in guilt. "Sorry, I..." Tiring of the exchange, Old Eagle raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "No need for apologies. This is your internal affair, and we won't interfere. What I want to discuss relates to the regional situation in Borroa Province, an issue concerning both us and you." Anwo immediately looked to his leader, General Abusace, who turned his attention to Old Eagle, instantly adopting a serious demeanor. "Please, go on!" Old Eagle surveyed the two before speaking slowly. "The Alliance’s foreign minister has arrived at Jinganport. To facilitate the ceasefire amongst Borroa Province's factions, it's best if you send a representative." Before Abusace could reply, he continued. "We all think you're a suitable candidate, but you should decide for yourself. Are you interested?" Anwo's heart leaped with joy, ready to agree immediately, but he quickly caught himself and, with humility, turned to General Abusace. "I'll follow the General's orders!" Abusace, naturally, laughed heartily, expressing satisfaction, and patted his hand. "Why follow my orders? Do whatever benefits the Borroa peoples! No need to ask me! Go ahead and thank the Alliance envoys!" Anwo turned back to Old Eagle to express his gratitude but was stopped by a helping hand. "Let's skip the thank-yous and get out of this wretched place first!" ... Anwo, who had attempted to assassinate Janusz in court, was released. And none other than Abusace himself, the commander of the federation, personally brought him out of the dungeon. When this made it onto the 'Survivor's Daily,' it caused quite a stir in Jinganport, downstream of the Eternal River. Many originally thought that even if Janusz's faction was entirely eliminated, Anwo, having become a standout figure, wouldn't meet a good end. After all, differing deeds remain distinct. If the assassin were not punished, wouldn’t others just follow suit? From Abusace and the other leaders' standpoint, this seemed like the beginning of a bad precedent. Yet, surprisingly, Abusace personally pardoned Anwo. Their handshake photo graced the cover of 'Survivor's Daily.' People were surprised yet applauded; finally, Borroa Province seemed to have a wise ruler. A person with an open heart wouldn't fear the machinations lurking in the shadows. A true reformer sees only passion and respect in a comrade, with no room for suspicion. Their eyes, illuminated by flashlights, shone brightly... With the release of the hero who attempted to assassinate Janusz, the violent incident at the Tiandu palace came to an end. However, from then on, officers at the decurion level and above had their firearms confiscated. Those had been symbols of their status. Now, only officers heading to the frontline could receive firearms and ammo from logistics. Additionally, a new regulation was implemented for soldiers at all levels, mandating separation of guns and ammo groups, with collective accountability. Furthermore, the internal guard units below the thousand-man team were reorganized. Previously, internal guard units were filled with officers' cronies, but now logistics centrally assigned roles, focusing on promotion evaluations. For instance, Echele, once under Anwo, was reassigned under a different legate, leading a centuria, but with his direct superior being not the legate, but a higher-ranking general. Effectively, the power’s sword was split into blade and hilt. Human nature is adept at adapting. Just as Echele saw himself in Orissa's reflection, Abusace saw his own likeness when he gazed upon Janusz's corpse. Though he wouldn’t admit it, the sudden death of the king had clearly jolted him, keeping him restless for many nights. Otherwise, he wouldn't have urgently instigated a series of reforms, hastily proving himself different from Janusz… even if they were indeed cut from the same cloth. Objectively, setting aside Abusace's motivations or the shock he endured, the changes he implemented undoubtedly carried elements of progress. Elsewhere, the splintered seven armies, though not completely dispersed, suffered a significant morale hit. Coinciding with the decline of Tiandu’s regime, local authorities were free from restrictions, compelling newly-formed factions to seek new allies against the "natural disaster." Initially, they suffered defeats, but now they could hold their lines, even countering the Heavenly King’s forces. King Cobra of the southeast was the first to be struck by Black Panther’s forceful assault. These well-armed, highly-trained forces easily repelled the garrisons of Snakezhou and Wolfzhou, forcing a retreat and abandoning the intrusion into Pantherzhou, retreating to Wolfzhou and Snakezhou. Similarly, King Dog and King Sheep’s northern campaigns faced misfortunes. First, their troops clashed internally over spoils, and then mutual hindrances allowed Ra’s in the east to take advantage, seizing about a third of the territory from the northern tri-state region. The Gray Wolf, initially blocking Ra, fought valiantly, but their strengthening forces and dire logistics strained them nearly to breaking. War always extends beyond the frontlines. Alayan’s effort alone couldn't withstand the advancing hurricane; he could only watch as Dogzhou, Sheepzhou, and Birdzhou fell to rebels. Aside from the three kings still flying the flag of the Heavenly King’s Army, the remaining four tactically withdrew their forces to Tiandu, abandoning past allegiances. They weren't fools; they understood their nature and the army’s nature. Like an avalanche triggered from a mountaintop, they amassed half of Borroa Province’s territory in momentum. But once the drive dissipated, their unity faltered. The sinking of this massive ship was inevitable; better to join the federation while still having worth, a climb from the deep river. The developments surprised all observers. Especially diners in a noodle shop at Jinganport. They thought the seven rebel kings would grow formidable, yet they entirely overestimated these late-blooming insurrectionists... ... In early February, an early drizzle added a moist fragrance to Tiandu’s air. This year, the rainy season seemed earlier than usual, by nearly two months. It seemed Borroa Province wasn't entirely unaffected by the extreme climate of the wastelands. At Tiandu's northern gate, a long line formed for people entering the city, each enduring meticulous inspection. Penny, closely shadowing Pangolin, observed her surroundings cautiously, wrapped in a long cloak. It had been just over half a month since their last visit, yet the scene seemed almost unrecognizable. The bandaged men were gone, replaced by soldiers in gray uniforms, patrolling in neat formations. These uniforms looked brand new, like they were just bought. Furthermore, there were more street vendors, creating a lively buzz of shouting and commerce! According to Pangolin, it seemed that the curfew order had been lifted by Abusace, the supreme leader of Tiandu. This change meant that even villagers living further away could push carts loaded with their specialties to the city without worrying about the long journey back and the risk of being caught and beaten up by soldiers after dark. Speaking of which, it's worth mentioning that the currency issued by the Western Lan Empire had ceased circulation. The new authorities didn't implement a hard cut-off. Instead, they allowed residents of Borroa Province to exchange Western Lan coins for a new currency called "Borro Coins" at banks restructured into joint-stock institutions. This new currency was fully backed by the new authorities' credit, printed with authorization from the Jinganport mint, at a 1:1 exchange rate with the Western Lan coins, and required prior resident registration for exchange, capped at ten thousand per person. Collected Western Lan coins were directly decommissioned, while the new currency injected "liquidity" into the market. This was said to be the idea of the Alliance's representatives, aimed at reducing the impact of regime change on the middle and lower classes. They had been hiding in the countryside of Niu Prefecture until the situation stabilized before returning. As they approached the checkpoint, Penny glanced at Pangolin and whispered nervously, “Is it really okay to enter the city now?” Seeing Penny's nervousness, the experienced combat correspondent gave a confident smile, softly reassuring her, "Don't worry, I've checked it out." Before setting off, he had posted on a forum to confirm everything was safe. And it wasn't just safe; the Borroa government was eager to start negotiations with the Legion. The scent of gunpowder was growing stronger in Wesailport, with crates of ammunition being unloaded along the docks. Although the Alliance was still engaged in diplomatic maneuvering, the Borroa authorities were clearly preparing for the worst. There was an eighty-percent chance conflict couldn’t be avoided, but negotiations could win some time. Except for a few troublesome elements like the three kings and Alayan, a unified front had basically formed across Borroa Province, not entirely solid but unlikely to backstab each other. Meanwhile, Alliance reinforcements were arriving. Even a bit more time was crucial for the Borroa government. To the seasoned veteran who had exchanged notes with the Alliance envoy, the situation was crystal clear. He would represent the civil group of Victory City, extending recognition to the Borroa Nation by acknowledging the Legion's control over Wesailport and affirming the validity of treaty port agreements from the old empire, swapping this recognition with their clean-up of the Heavenly King's remnants. Offending the Southern Legion? Perhaps. But the Wesailport massacre had already torn the sides apart; they could no longer afford any semblance of dignity. This was not just the inclination of Mr. Bannott but a unanimous decision among Victory City’s civil group. They wanted no part in the Southern Group's gamble. Winning held no merit and losing could cost everything they had painstakingly established in Borroa Province. As for Borroa leaning toward the Alliance, that wasn’t a problem. Those opportunists were never loyal; they could always be won back. Slowly moving forward, their turn to enter finally arrived. Without a word, the war correspondent pulled out a crumpled document from his chest, declaring his identity. "I am Pangolin, envoy of the Legion! Call your leader to see me!" The six soldiers at the gate were stunned, as were a few civilians in line, who instinctively stepped aside. Their eagerness to distance themselves made Penny even more nervous. Her palms sweaty, she clung tightly to Pangolin's coat, nearly pressing herself against him. One soldier finally snapped out of it, blurting a "wait here" before dashing to the back of the gate. It wasn’t long before the centurion on duty jogged out from around the corner. As expected. The centurion’s face bore a warm smile, a stark contrast to the menacing demeanor from two weeks ago. Upon confirming the document in Pangolin’s possession, the centurion's smile grew almost sycophantic. "Envoy, please come in! Our chief commander has been expecting you!" Pangolin gave him no friendly regard, looking down at him like a true Vaillant, slightly tilting his rather unremarkable nose. "Lead the way." Unperturbed, the centurion continued smiling, nodding with a polite gesture. "This way, please!" To be continued.