Section Fifty-Seven: Delivery

The soldiers around him hurried forward to calm him, and after quite some time Zhang Da at last recovered his composure.

“Commander Song, what else did they do?”

“They also... they also shout slogans every day, and teach the troops to read and write. Even on the road here, they were shouting: ‘No great wealth for inheritance, no great office for succession! Crush the noble families, divide the fields and the land! Till the earth for the people, all are our brothers! Stand united in heart, and together overcome our mighty foes!’”

“On the road here?” Zhang Da’s voice turned tense. “They’re coming this way?”

“Yes... I came to warn you...”

Zhang Da no longer listened. He rushed outside in haste.

Most of the attendants behind him followed. But one, a rather young man with a scar across his face, remained behind with his hand on his sword hilt.

“General Song, why did they let you go?”

“Those unwilling to surrender are released if they can recite a few articles from memory.” Commander Song glanced at the blade in his hand, fear flickering across his face. “Let’s speak calmly...”

“What does it mean, when the rebels say wealth must not be passed down, and office must not be inherited?”

“It means wealth on too grand a scale is not suited to being handed to one’s sons,” replied a man in black clothes and a hood behind Commander Song. “What they mean is that even the richest families may only leave their children what an ordinary person would inherit. The rest must go to those who have made the greatest contribution in creating that wealth.”

The scarred man studied them for a while, then nodded.

“That’s the same as what I heard before. I thought... Tonight, do not leave the camp. I will come here again. Then we can talk slowly.”

---

“The target is the Han military camp at the ferry crossing. She wants you to depart at once and help the Han troops there fend off the Yellow Turban attack.”

Light’s hand trembled as he delivered the order.

Grug, the former deputy captain—indeed, still so by title, though after Lina Faye slapped him, the members more or less ignored him—was short and fat, with monstrous strength and carrying capacity. Whether it came from a change in bloodline, or from some skill or piece of equipment, no one knew.

He was also very powerful in combat. Light estimated that, in a head-on fight, ten of himself would still not be his match. Yet now he had to relay this sort of order to him. Especially since... the captain... she...

Thinking of her, he found courage.

Though he still did not dare meet Grug’s eyes—at his line of sight, he could only see the man’s shoes—just imagining that gentle woman might be harmed stirred his desire to protect, and his hands stopped shaking.

Yes, before coming here, she had given him the Sanction Order. This was the captain’s command.

Sanction Order: team function item, authority level 5 (changes with team level), effective range 20 meters (changes with team level)

If a person of higher rank in the team issues an order to someone of lower rank, and that person disobeys, this item may be used to sanction the subordinate. Sanction effects include attribute suppression, skill weakening, behavioral restraint, and brief confinement (increasing or decreasing according to team level).

Only with it did Light dare to come.

Grug had been sitting there the whole time, saying nothing.

With it, no one in the team would betray them... wait.

Didn’t Charles betray them? How did he get free? Grug was also a deputy captain; if he could break free too...

Huh? Why was it not only Grug’s body that had gone still, but his warmth and breathing as well? As if... he were a puppet?

Light approached tremblingly and looked into Grug’s face.

Under his gaze, Grug’s body slowly disintegrated, turning to dust and scattering away...

A note fell to Light’s feet.

“I have gone to carry out the order.”

“Tell the captain I will complete what she wished for.”

---

“Not yet. Yes, still on the road.”

“No splitting of forces. He seems to intend to take the whole army.”

“A few new tasks have been added. Reconnoitering the Han army’s movements, seeking out enemy spies, entering the ferry camp, and persuading the Han troops to surrender now all give higher contribution points. It’s 150 each... Yes, the rewards haven’t changed. Since the addition of Han standard equipment with extra attributes, there have been no further changes.”

“I couldn’t reach her. Yes, I found a chance to see her a few times. As long as she was willing, she could have come over and spoken to me. But she just walked away.”

“The other teams are very dissatisfied with us. Yes, I think you know why. Light...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. The latest intelligence is all visible to every ordinary soldier. Heh, ordinary, yes—but very useful to you, isn’t it?”

“Goodbye. I love you too.”

Charles hung up the call, pushed aside the branches before him, and prepared to return to camp. He had only taken a few steps when a chill suddenly ran down his back.

He turned, and saw a crossbow aimed at him.

“Meeting here was truly unexpected.” Behind the crossbow stood Gardini, whose handsome face now wore an odious smile. “Capturing a spy, with solid proof, earns three hundred contribution points. If the danger caused is significant, the reward may be increased accordingly.”

“That can be discussed.” Charles let out a breath of relief. “Don’t you think he set it far too low?”

“Can revenge be added on as well? How would that be counted?”

Charles cursed Light inwardly. “Act as though you saw nothing, and I’ll give you two thousand.”

“The deputy captain of the grand Wuzhou team is only worth this much?”

---

That night, the scar-faced man brought Commander Song and the others a pot of meat soup.

Though it was only ordinary broth, to the starving men who had gone a full day without food and were already hollow with hunger, it tasted incomparably delicious. They ate until they nearly swallowed their own tongues.

“All right.” Once they had finished, the scar-faced man began his questioning. “You said this Yellow Turban force recruits refugees?”

“That’s right.” Commander Song answered. “They even hand out porridge to the refugees. The women and children are assigned to the logistics camp to cook and wash clothes. Most of the men are placed in the ranks, given weapons, and trained.”

“Are there people from Song Village... that is, the village more than forty li southwest of here... among them?”

Commander Song paused, then looked at the people beside him and shook his head.

“All the ones that could be saved were saved,” answered Garivel—the one in black clothes and a hood from before. “But many of them have no names, and I don’t know which one you mean.”

“Oh,” the scar-faced man murmured, then quickly regained his calm. “So long as they surrender, the Revolutionary Army will not kill indiscriminately. Is that true?”

“Of course. The commander of the Revolutionary Army said that killing on the battlefield is unavoidable. As long as one surrenders, not only will they not be killed, even their property will not be touched. If they are willing to join the Revolutionary Army, that would be best—they are given land directly. If they are unwilling to join, then so long as they memorize a few volumes, they may be released. We were able to come here and warn everyone only because we memorized so quickly!”

Commander Song grinned, clearly proud that he had been released.

The scar-faced young man thought for a while.

“In the future, what does Commander Song plan to do?”

At the mention of this, Commander Song’s face immediately twisted. After a long while, he finally spoke.

“What can I do? Go back and wait for punishment, that’s what. Damn it—if not for my old parents and young children, and the fact that surrender would drag my family down with me, who the hell would come back!”