Chapter 911 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 911: The Aftermath of the Incident At the exact moment when the train incident occurred, the radio station "Voice of the New Era," affiliated with the number one settlement's "Survivor Daily," was hosting a talk show featuring Gu Ning, a representative from the settlement. Ever since the notorious incident surrounding the city hall, Mr. Gu had been at the center of public discourse. Some radicals saw his actions as a betrayal against "uniting with all forces possible," while many conservatives believed he was indeed preserving the unity of the Alliance. Faced with the host's interview, Gu Ning paused for a moment of thought before sharing his perspective. "There are some comrades in our ranks with radical views, believing in healing everything with love and uniting with all, even with groups whose values are entirely opposed to ours. I don't want to judge them, but in my opinion, this kind of self-righteous thinking is extremely naive, and such naivety will lead us into an abyss." Unanticipatedly, Gu Ning's bold rhetoric in this public forum left the host visibly taken aback. However, they carried on with the interview. "But the Velanites have values that run directly counter to ours. Why, then, do you think they are more worthy of unity?" Gu Ning laughed and raised his hands in response. "No, no, no, you misunderstood. Those Velanites who fundamentally oppose our values would never join us. Even standing at our doorstep, they'd probably spit at us." "And those who do choose to join us have uniformly rejected the evils of militarism and colonialism. Not only do they share our values, but their courage, loyalty, and faith, among other virtues, are the strongest shields for defending our equality." At this point, Gu Ning shifted his tone, looking at the host across from him and countering. "In fact, let me ask you this: why do you automatically assume the Velanites' values fundamentally oppose ours? Do you view people as factory-made machines?" The unexpected reversal left the host stunned, and their expression slowly turned awkward. Realizing his own slip of the tongue, the host quickly denied any insinuation. "Uh, that's not what I meant... I was actually referring to the legion." "I understand," Gu Ning nodded. "Stereotypes aren't easily dismantled, especially when surrounded by a bunch of 'pitiable people.'" "And I must mention, these seemingly pitiable individuals—I'm not implying victim-blaming, but is their suffering really something we've caused?" Seeing the host momentarily at a loss for words, Gu Ning continued without mercy. "As of today, most survivors at Golden Gallon Port are settled in houses that don’t leak, and even have access to subways unavailable to us! I know these are commercially invested by Baixue Corporation, but even so, we can't ignore that many in our number one settlement still live in containers—they, too, are people we need to unite with!" "You might argue we don't have the population for subways, but surely, we can always use more spacious housing, right?" "We've extended countless helping hands to them. How do they repay us? By making a scene with the civilized and groveling to the barbarians, just because we're easygoing. They expect us to accommodate all their unreasonable demands repeatedly." "They've just begun to see better days, and now they think they can teach us how to live, claiming it's for our own good. I shudder to think of their attitude once they have money—would they lording over us?" Watching Gu Ning's verbal flow run unchecked, the host hurriedly coughed to interrupt. "I have to say, they represent only a fraction; the vast majority whom we've aided are actively part of our development, and you should acknowledge those silent contributors." "That's exactly my point," Gu Ning snapped his fingers, sat upright, and looked at the host. "Exclude that small group of ingrates and make room for those truly worth saving—this benefits everyone." The host hesitated before responding. "This seems too impractical. How can we determine who the ingrates are?" Gu Ning replied without hesitation. "It's simple. We don't need to identify them specifically. We raise our standards and enforce them strictly! Issuing Alliance IDs simply because someone is a Parlorian or Velanite is irresponsible to all Alliance citizens." "They must work, receive education while working, and pass assessments through relevant agencies! The Alliance already has a 'supervision system,' which is good, but insufficient. We should establish a concrete supervisory department rather than leaving everything to time." "They must realize the Alliance is not their dumping ground, and if they've made a mess of their homeland, they should consider how it came to be, not carry on the same elsewhere. If some wastelanders can't adapt to civilized life, they should remain in their own 'zoos.'" Host: "Mr. Gu, I must point out that many of their hardships aren't entirely self-imposed, and tracing back to issues during the Human United period—" "You're right, but I represent the citizens of the Alliance, and I speak for those I represent," Gu Ning sincerely stated, fixing his gaze on the host. "Listen, we can't wait until the Alliance becomes critically burdened to rethink past decisions. Someone must step up to hit the brakes before it's too late... No one can stop a speeding train instantaneously; we need to decelerate well before the curve and adjust our speed based on the upcoming road. Do you understand what I mean?" Nervously, the host touched the bridge of his nose. "I think I get it... You're saying now is the time for braking." Gu Ning leaned back in his chair, relaxing his tone as he continued. "Pretty much. If no one dares to wade into these waters, let me be the brake pad. At the very least, we can't let those radicals keep flooring the gas. If we become another legion or Parlorian empire, braking then will be too late." The interview was wrapping up. The host was about to conclude the program when his assistant hurriedly entered, handing him a freshly printed sheet. Reading the paper, the host's expression slightly changed, and he realigned the microphone on his desk. "Breaking news, our station just received word that a train en route from Weifu City to Settlement One had an incident. Over a hundred residents attempted to halt the train... resulting in two deaths and one injury." At this, the host's expression turned odd. Just moments earlier, the representative sitting before him had used a train as an example. Did he somehow predict this? Gu Ning's face showed surprise as well, clearly not expecting such an uncanny coincidence. He picked up his glass, sipped some water, and inadvertently remarked. "Let's hope the passengers are unharmed... And please, don't tell me it was the Parloians trying to stop the train." The host cleared his throat. "Mr. Gu, as a representative... please mind your identity and words. Irrespective of who they were, that is not the crucial matter." "No problem. I didn't mean to target anyone. It was just my sincere wish that it wasn't always them." He placed the glass on the table, contemplating a moment before speaking again. "Perhaps we should draft a new law for our trains... to prohibit blocking on the tracks." ... In just a matter of minutes, the "D97 Train Incident" became the talk of both Settlement One and Weifu City. As the details emerged, everyone was left speechless, incapable of articulating a response. To get just a glimpse of the Alliance's administrator, over a hundred survivors came up with the absurd idea of stopping a train. What made the situation more absurd was that the administrator they wished to meet wasn't even on that train; like other delayed passengers, he was waiting in the terminal. Rather than calling it an accident, one could more accurately describe it as a farcical drama. Especially after the on-site reporters learned that these "train-blockers" demanded the expulsion of the Velanites from Settlement One and the dissolution of the Alliance's representation. Even sympathizers were left with indescribable expressions. Had they not gotten a little too carried away? Regretfully, with the exception of the seemingly awakened Jeremy, most Parloians hadn't realized the folly of their actions. When reporters questioned the train-stoppers about the impossibility of the train halting immediately, they tearfully accused the train of being too ferocious and showed the injuries they incurred while tumbling around. However, when asked if they realized their actions were illegal, their responses diverged. Some indignantly jumped up, exclaiming that they were already suffering so much, questioning why the law further oppressed them. Meanwhile, others pleaded in front of the camera, requesting leniency from the residents of Settlement One, citing the contributions of Parlorian labor to the railway. Had they straightforwardly admitted ignorance, they might have garnered some sympathy, a far more meaningful outcome than their current chaotic antics. Yet, they refused to take this path, vehemently resisting the rules they should be following, a stark contrast to their meek, sheep-like demeanor back home. The journalist conducting the interview was simply baffled by the group's irrational and unreasonable behavior. In reality, most journalists within the Alliance harbored substantial sympathy for the survivors of the Parlorian province. This sympathy stemmed partly from the "Survivor Daily," originating from the revolutionary stronghold of Boulder City, and partly due to the significant contributions Lunar exiles made to the development of the Alliance's southern regions, which spawned many media outlets and workers. Although these reporters posed questions advantageous to the survivors, their bizarre responses ended up making the radicals who supported them look foolish. Immediately after the incident, Sukar, a representative from Settlement One, arrived at the scene. He was a step behind the journalists but not by much. Witnessing his fellow countrymen crying on camera while denouncing the representative committee and spotting Jeremy standing mum amongst the crowd, Sukar strode forward decisively, grabbing the latter by the shoulder and yelled, voice trembling with restrained fury. "...Have you all lost your minds? Dissolve the representative committee... Why not just say dissolve the Alliance?" Jeremy, with empty eyes, glanced at Sukar, the gentle and scholarly young man. He knew this individual was also a Lunar, remembering even his original surname. Unlike himself, Sukar had succeeded, securing his Alliance citizenship early and becoming an official, a district representative of Settlement One... Ha. He really did make it, huh? Jeremy's face regained a hint of color, and his expression of defeat quickly transformed into one of hatred. He suddenly reversed his grip on Sukar's arm, veins bulging, as if trying to drag the one who ruined everything down into hell with him. "You traitor... why don't you help us?" The hand on his arm clasped like a vise, but the label of traitor dug into Sukar's heart like needles. His face twisted as he shrugged off Jeremy's hand and released his shoulder. For the first time since becoming a representative, Sukar lost his composure, unleashing a hysterical roar. "You say I don't help you? Didn't I warn you against recklessness? I told you repeatedly: hasty actions ruin matters—everything must be done step by step. And yet, what do you say about me behind my back? You think your words aren't heard by others? Now you blame me for not helping you!" Jeremy seemed not to hear, like a vulture, his eyes boring into Sukar, reaching to grasp his neck. "You bastard... got ahead yourself and forgot your roots. Others may forget your name, but I remember, Kassedim, don't you forget, you're a Lunar! A Parlorian! I am your kin! I AM!" Their dispute finally caught the attention of nearby guards. Initially, seeing one was a representative, they hesitated to intervene, but with a fight nearly erupting in front of media cameras, they couldn't stand idle. Settlement One's television tower was still under construction, but Weifu City had its own TV station. It was rumored that their esteemed administrator might also be present, possibly watching behind the screens. The exoskeleton-clad guards stepped in, pulling Jeremy back beyond the barrier and removing Sukar from the scene. An investigating officer approached, glaring at the disheveled Sukar, issuing a warning. "This is a crime scene, Representative; if you interfere with our law enforcement again, I will have to invite you for a chat in the car, or would you prefer to explain to the prosecution department?" The officer was a Velanite, formerly with the Eastern Legion, later joining the Southern Construction Corps before retiring to the local Guard Bureau. Unlike the rookies from the wastelands, he'd endured enough from these people long ago. Once there were those who aim to leave no Velanite alive, but at least they used guns, not words. Sukar didn't face the officer who pulled him away, only staring shocked at the beast-like Jeremy who seemed ready to devour him, stepping back a couple of paces. After what felt like an eternity, he squeezed out a simple statement. "My surname is Su." Perhaps Mr. Gu was right; the Alliance was indeed at the juncture for action. At a minimum, they needed the "supervised status" to fulfill its intended role... This wasn't solely targeting Parlorian immigrants; the Alliance needed to raise the bar for issuing ID cards. Survivors finding endorsements within trusted factions could earn citizenship after completing education and periodic agency reviews. The time had come to establish an immigration bureau. Regardless of whether the old man heard him, Sukar hastily adjusted his collar and fled the scene in disarray before the reporters closed in. ... For a full three days, the "D97 Train Incident" dominated headlines both in Settlement One and Weifu City. Despite some radical journalists downplaying the absurd rhetoric of the train-stoppers, the Alliance's media landscape was not monopolized by any one group, nor limited to a single paper. Furthermore, alongside right-leaning publications stood papers like "The Goblin Gazette," notorious for their irreverent and indiscriminate reporting. By the morning following the incident, survivors across the Alliance learned the train-stoppers were Parloians. This drama not only stirred Settlement One and Weifu City but crossed oceans to make waves in Golden Gallon Port and even Mammoth City. The recognized culprits totaled 120. This included the two unfortunate deaths and one unlucky individual who lost a limb. Of them, 82 held Alliance citizenship. Aside from the organizer Jeremy, sentenced to 100 years, the rest faced a minimum of a decade. Distribution by chaos or safety in numbers was non-existent in the Alliance; if Settlement One's prison overflowed, there was always the quarry at Blue Stone County. Besides, a hundred was nothing compared to the correction camps established when the Alliance had its harsh crackdown outside Boulder City; a stint at the front lines corrected all ills. As for the remaining 38, their status as "supervised" indicated they hadn't earned full Alliance citizenship. After collecting their biometric data, the court ruled them deported back to their origins. This didn't mean they would evade punishment, only that they'd serve it elsewhere. Long before, the Alliance had signed extradition treaties with amicable factions, conducting judicial cooperation alongside economic collaboration. According to brokers and shipping companies, they would be sent to Golden Gallon Port, Parlorian Nation, or Mammoth Nation. For Parrloians from West Sail Port, Golden Gallon Port's prison would take custody. The most outrageous aspect of the farce was its greater influence compared to its direct economic impact. Parlorian royalists, through their unique brand of performance art and radical portrayal, successfully made radicals within the Alliance look like fools, while some Alliance citizens, cushioned by prosperity, suddenly realized their over-progressiveness. Current debates among conservatives and radicals shifted from simply altering the supervised status's assessment duration to establishing a specific regulatory agency to enforce policies and even possibly implementing a scoring system. Meanwhile, extreme radicals advocating the supervised status's obsolescence had fallen silent, claiming blameless ignorance. The embarrassment extended beyond internal radicals to include Parlorian and Mammoth authorities, backed by the former. This incident undoubtedly served as a wake-up call for them. If public opinion within the Alliance shifts to the right, reducing support for the Parlorian resistance movement, it could spell disaster for the Parlor regions still heavily reliant on aid. Inside the governor's residence in Tiandu, Absek, the leader, almost tore the newspaper in half in frustration. Staring at the reprinted reports from Golden Gallon Port's "Survivor Daily," his nose flared with anger as he slammed the paper onto his desk. "Utter nonsense!" He had worked tirelessly to present the Parlorians as capable of enlightened rule, showcasing to outside survivors that they could stand tall. Yet, those so-called "Old Guards" who left only managed to slap all of them in the face with their actions. Truth be told, in addition to feeling let down, Absek was mostly filled with helplessness. He understood these people all too well. Those under Lash's command were just like them, and Absek himself was no different. He had appointed Kabaha as the education commissioner, a man of considerable insight and a gifted writer, yet even he couldn't shake off the bad habit of bullying the weak and fearing the strong. Faced with kindness, he would bare his teeth. If Absek hadn't been protecting him, who knows how many times Kabaha would have met misfortune. Standing before Absek's desk, Interior Minister Wadia spoke with a grave expression. "I hear it's caused quite a stir within the Alliance. I wonder if this will affect their support for us." Rising from his desk, Absek paced a short round inside his office and sighed. "I'm not worried about that. Given the broad-mindedness and vision of the Alliance's administrator, I don't think it will." Perhaps because he stood in a similar position, he saw things clearly. The support extended by that gentleman was never out of mere sympathy, so it was unlikely it would cease due to simple disdain or similar sentiments. Fighting against the Legion's eastern expansion was both a strategic necessity and an ideological one for the Alliance. They opposed the oppression of survivors by militarism and authoritarianism, using this as a banner to unite more oppressed survivors. They were determined to win this war, just as the Southern Legion was. Pausing, Absek expressed another concern. "However, there’s no telling if they might leave us to fend for ourselves after the war... and that's what worries me most." With a victorious war, they, the pawns, would naturally lose their previous importance. Traditionally, for unruly territories, the Alliance would help local survivors establish their own order. For lands with existing order, they would let locals determine their own fate. This was the case for the Luoxia Province. However, the Parlor Province was different from Luoxia. This land, with its myriad tribes and deities, was rife with contradictions, not to mention Lash's stance, and even Absek himself had a few rebellious subordinates yet to be pacified. He sometimes couldn't help but wish those who bowed to the Alliance's administrator would share some of their devoutness with him. With the celestial palace fallen, he no longer yearned for the throne. Now, he was even further from caring about it. Moving forward, perhaps everyone takes a step back, alternating to take the helm, letting time resolve conflicts might not be a bad idea. Seeing Absek's mounting concern, Wadia's expression also tightened as he said gravely, "...If it truly comes to that, we must be prepared in advance." Absek nodded. "The earlier preparation, the better. I ought to have a conversation with Lash, see what his stance is on the three northern states. If peace is an option, we should strive for it." As he spoke, his gaze fell on a line in the "Survivor Daily" that caught his eye—an interview with a representative named Gu Ning. That man was a conservative within the Alliance, technically an "enemy" of his. Yet, inexplicably, Absek couldn't bring himself to dislike this stranger. On the contrary, he resonated with something the man said. Suddenly, he asked, "Wadia, do you think I’m a civilized person or a barbarian?" Caught off guard by the leader's sudden question, Wadia froze for a moment, then quickly responded respectfully. "Sir, you are definitely a civilized person! Is there even a question?" Absek chuckled. "Figures." To be continued...