—The more one seeks purity of heart, the more one’s deeds betray their corruption.
New Calendar Year 214, Sixty-One Workers City.
Two cars pulled up to the entrance of the underground network. After presenting their credentials to the guards, they proceeded into the subterranean passages. The space was remarkably wide, easily accommodating not just regular vehicles but even fully loaded heavy trucks. Spotting a heavily laden truck rumbling towards them, the lieutenant couldn’t help but let out a disdainful scoff.
“These occupying forces haven’t fought many battles, yet they’re remarkably swift at lining their pockets with artifacts. Another truckload, it seems.”
While focusing on his driving, the lieutenant glanced sideways at the truck. Even beneath the canvas cover, he could discern numerous crates packed within. The license plate indicated it was a vehicle transporting specialized cargo.
Historically, the territory of Vega had been home to the Oceanwind Kingdom and the Cloud Mountain Kingdom, both tributary states to two Eastern Continent dynasties. Each time they paid tribute, they received abundant rewards from the Eastern Continent dynasties in return. These gifts often surpassed the value of the tribute itself by several, even dozens, of times. The tributary states cherished and displayed them as treasures, and over time, these became invaluable historical artifacts.
“It might not necessarily be artifacts; it could be industrial equipment.”
“Regardless, it’s our duty to inform the High Tribunal (High Military Field Court) to investigate them. You there, note down the license plate and report it. Ensure these items don’t end up in anyone’s personal coffers.”
The lieutenant tilted his head back, waving a hand. A soldier behind him promptly acknowledged.
“Understood, sir. Recorded.”
“Some officers, during peacetime training, bellow slogans that shake the heavens, constantly prattling on about military discipline and regulations. Yet, when war truly strikes, they’re quick to stuff their pockets. ‘The front lines struggle, while the rear gorges itself’—such things have been inevitable since ancient times. Though our ranks are low and our voices carry little weight, we cannot simply stand by. This is the army, it belongs to the Academy, not their personal fiefdoms, and they cannot do as they please.”
The lieutenant watched the truck’s taillights recede, then turned to survey the battle-scarred traces within the passage.
“Currently, the conflict on the southern side of the peninsula is mired in a stalemate. Vega is counterattacking with a frenzy, like a mad beast, and I’ve heard even women and children have been conscripted into battle. Under these circumstances, our superiors have repeatedly emphasized that the occupied territories must maintain stability, especially large industrial cities like this one, as the front lines rely heavily on its production of supplies.”
The lieutenant observed the ongoing cleanup in the underground passage. An explosion had clearly occurred here, though it was minor in scale and hadn’t significantly damaged the tunnel. Judging by the bloodstains on the ground, the blast had happened no more than three days prior.
Although Sixty-One Workers City had been captured by Xuanji Star several months ago, resistance had never ceased. From the city outskirts to the underground network, from scattered regular troops to armed civilians, resistance was ubiquitous and pervasive, seeping into every corner…
While Xuanji Star enforced Great Yan nationalism, many of the local Blaze Clan people did not identify with Xuanji Star’s policies, standing distinctly at odds with the Xuanji Star Blaze Clan.
Were it an ordinary city, it might be manageable. However, this city’s subterranean network was a labyrinth, extending in all directions—a veritable paradise for guerrilla warfare. Though Xuanji Star’s army excelled in mobile and large-scale operations, they found themselves utterly helpless against this type of guerrilla warfare, particularly urban guerrilla tactics. Their only recourse was to deploy small units for repeated mop-up operations. Unlike open terrain, where large forces could form tight encirclements against guerrilla fighters, within this underground network, grand maneuvers were simply impossible.
While the main passages were indeed wide enough for vehicles and could be garrisoned by large forces, the narrower, secondary tunnels always concealed unseen perils. Even members of the High Military Field Court had to exercise extreme caution here. The guerrillas cared little if one was a non-combatant; anyone in a Xuanji Star military uniform was their enemy.
“You saw that truck just now, didn’t you? That’s also why we’re here. This place was incredibly prosperous before the war, and we need to warn the officers here to keep their soldiers in line. You understand, in prosperous places, it’s easier for people to lose their inhibitions. We need this city to provide stable production for the front lines, so what needs to be restrained must be restrained; absolutely no indulgence can be permitted.”
“Understood, sir, but regarding the special forces…”
The lieutenant didn’t wish to question his superior’s words, but some matters required clarification beforehand to prevent a repeat of the last incident.
“The Blood-Soaked Army? We can’t control those people. They answer to the Black Sun Command Hall, not the War Department. They have their own independent disciplinary body; it’s not our place to judge them.”
The lieutenant paused, glancing around before leaning in and lowering his voice.
“If you encounter these people committing crimes, steer clear. They’re riding high right now, and there’s no need to court trouble. But if they genuinely provoke us, don’t show them any deference. Stand your ground against them. To put it plainly, they’re just a bunch of gang members, and even those above the Garrison Army have long found them an eyesore.”
“Yes, sir.”
The lieutenant nodded. Previously, the night had been too dark for him to clearly discern their insignia, causing him to mistake them for errant soldiers of the Garrison Army. A conflict had almost erupted, nearly leading to disaster. How could he not take such a precedent to heart?
Their destination was now in sight. The cars pulled to the side, and the eight men disembarked. A sergeant, waiting by the entrance to a side passage, quickly strode forward to salute the lieutenant.
A few brief pleasantries were exchanged, mere formalities like ‘You’ve worked hard.’
The sergeant led the way, guiding the group into the side passage. He dared not show any negligence, knowing full well that while the High Military Field Court personnel might not hold high ranks, their authority was immense. It was best not to antagonize them…
The Xuanji Star’s traditional art had always been to torment people rather than kill them… This had been the case ever since the Great Progressive Transformation. Though the sergeant hadn’t experienced it firsthand, he had certainly heard tales—no one wished to bring trouble upon themselves.
The group traversed several passages, wound through a dozen doors, and eventually emerged into a vast, open warehouse. Though the members of the High Military Field Court maintained their steady pace, their eyes involuntarily scrutinized their surroundings. While this place had once been a mine, the extent of its widening and renovation surely far exceeded the original mining effort. Moreover, these subterranean passages were ingeniously constructed, not merely built underground but integrated with the surface architecture. The guerrillas, leveraging these passages, were like tigers with wings, moving freely through the city, making them incredibly difficult to deal with. It was no wonder the local guerrillas could launch attacks on heavily guarded places like factories and even military camps… They were truly impossible to guard against…
A dense array of thick pipes, varying in size, extended from ceiling to floor throughout the warehouse. The group found themselves on a second-floor corridor, which formed a square, encircling a central void protected by metal railings. From the railings, one could observe the main floor below. They had no idea what purpose this place had served previously; it resembled a warehouse, yet the density of the pipes suggested otherwise. Being utterly ignorant of architecture, the High Military Field Court members could draw no conclusions. From their current position, following either side of the corridor would lead them to the door on the opposite side of the second floor, where the commanding officer they were scheduled to meet was located.
Throughout the journey, the sergeant repeatedly apologized for the inconvenience, explaining that the passages were too narrow for vehicles, thus necessitating such a long walk for the guests. He insisted it was a grave discourtesy.
The lieutenant waved a hand, indicating his understanding. He remarked that they were merely conducting routine business, not visiting as guests, so there was no question of discourtesy. Yet, observing the sergeant’s demeanor, the lieutenant knew something was amiss. It was likely the officers here had profited handsomely; war, after all, was a business, much like taking kickbacks in peacetime—no one was immune to greed.
The sergeant then elaborated on the intricate underground network, warning that many passages harbored resistance fighters. He urged the High Military Field Court not to act rashly to avoid danger, repeatedly emphasizing that he had no intention of restricting their movements, but merely stating objective reality.
The lieutenant nodded in agreement, though inwardly, he thought that even if the sergeant truly intended to restrict their movements, he couldn’t openly object at the moment. In such a complex environment, killing someone and blaming it on guerrillas… such incidents were not unheard of…
The group proceeded along one side of the corridor toward the far end. The hall was remarkably long and narrow, paved with metal plates that stretched for what appeared to be hundreds of meters. With every step, a dull metallic thud resonated, making one wonder if the plates might collapse at any moment. However, the High Military Field Court members were no cowards. Though not combat personnel, they were bona fide soldiers and would not be intimidated by such things.
Dull thuds of beating and the pained wails of a woman drifted up from below. As they continued forward, the group edged closer to the railing, peering diagonally downwards.
The lieutenant, recognizing the uniforms of the soldiers below, whispered to the captain.
“It’s the Military Police.”
“Mm.”
The lieutenant offered no comment. He harbored no fondness for the Military Police; every single one of them was an expert at flouting military discipline. Yet, based on the principle of ‘mission priority,’ the High Military Field Court couldn’t arrest those operating under the guise of a ‘mission,’ at least not while they were ‘executing’ it.
In Xuanji Star, military police were not only responsible for law enforcement, security, and other duties within military camps and garrisons, but also served as a combat unit. Their functions further included eliminating enemies in rear areas, controlling the movement of personnel and vehicles on the battlefield, regional security, managing prisoners of war and civilian captives, and even maintaining public order. This dual role often led them to overstep the boundaries of a single function—in other words, they wielded the authority of one role to serve another…
Looking down, they saw a man in a white shirt, covered in blood, stumbling and collapsing onto the floor. From an unseen area beneath the corridor, a woman’s wails echoed.
“Professor Zhou, you are also of the Blaze Clan; you should understand that the Blaze Clan values respect for teachers and elders above all else. We truly do not wish to treat you this way. Just tell us the hideout of the ‘Workers’ Stormtroopers,’ and we will immediately release you and your family, treating you with the utmost courtesy and honoring you as esteemed guests. I am even willing to personally apologize to you.”
A man’s voice drifted up from below, but the speaker remained out of sight, presumably directly beneath the corridor where they stood. The man, referred to as ‘Professor Zhou,’ convulsed and struggled on the ground for a long while, eventually propping himself up with his arms, gasping for breath.
“Xuanji Star invaded Vega… slaughtered tens of thousands… and now you shamelessly speak of ‘utmost courtesy’… Though I am now imprisoned… I still understand propriety and honor. How can a tyrannical butcher like yourself, one who slaughters like cutting hemp, possibly lay claim to the word ‘courtesy’?”
He leaned against a steel pillar, his cold gaze sweeping over the soldiers before him, his eyes brimming with defiance.
Observing this scene from their elevated position, the lieutenant and his companions couldn’t help but feel a flicker of admiration.
‘Though an enemy, his integrity is truly admirable.’