CHAPTER 820: CHAPTER 820: BURNING SAILS

The night gradually descended upon the southern sea area, growing deeper, while faraway West Sail Port was just welcoming dusk, the scorching fiery color seeming to want to dry up the sea.

In the equatorial region, there is no concept of winter. Watching the blazing sun about to sink into the sea, the laborers on the dock finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The sun has finally set!

After being busy for a while, the dock was empty for several days, without a single ship.

No one had work to do, so everyone finally understood what "all prosper and all suffer together" means.

If West Sail Port really went bankrupt, everyone would have to sell themselves back to the nobles’ plantations.

Although Poluo Province has one good point: you can survive by eating dirt, but no one can eat dirt forever.

You can’t grow any flesh eating that stuff, and the more you eat, the less energy you have, the less energy you have, the less work you can do, leading to a vicious cycle where eventually the whole family gets buried in the ground.

Eating it two to three days a week is safe, three to four days is acceptable, but eating it continuously for five to six days is troublesome. Unless it’s during a famine, no one would eat like that.

Fortunately, shipping has recently picked up again, and people who had been idle for a long time now have work to do.

Thinking about Lord Nagi’s promise of a pay raise, everyone was working with all their might.

Their thoughts were simple, even "honest."

The employer gave them money; they can’t let them suffer losses and work slower than those sluggish slaves.

However—

not everyone reaped the benefits.

For instance, those who carried Orisa’s body to stand up for his family.

And those who clamored to raise the wage to ten dinars a day.

All these people, without exception, were blacklisted and entered into Lord Nagi’s little notebook.

First, at the labor registry office, in principle, only honest laborers were introduced to jobs, and troublesome ones who didn’t listen were either not introduced at all or only given the lowest-paid work.

Going back to the dock was impossible.

As for the steel and cement factory, that’s a pipe dream too.

After all, for any profitable industry, the stakeholders behind them are all the same kind of people.

Either Weilante people or nobles of the Empire.

Under the connection of interests, these people are extremely united.

And those free citizens blacklisted, either wait at home for notifications or go to do work like cleaning sewage or other sanitation jobs.

And their vacant positions were slowly replaced by other slaves promoted to free citizens.

After all, there are plenty of slaves in Poluo Province.

This is like a metabolism mechanism, forming a perfect loop.

In this respect, West Sail Port is actually very much like Jinjaron Harbor of the past.

These odd jobs were generally done by slaves, as there’s no need to worry about them malingering.

But for free citizens, merely doing these jobs can’t support a family.

Some people tried to ask those laborers who benefited for help, trying to unite for the common interest to strike again with non-violent non-cooperation, but they were avoided like the plague.

They had already gotten what they wanted.

Eight dinars a day was enough for them to live on, and they didn’t want much to begin with.

As for those left behind...

They can only blame themselves for not being honest.

Moreover, those who cleaned sewage, swept the streets, or even had no jobs can’t be considered "one of us."

Did those earning just two dinars a day dare to clamor to be their compatriots?

Overstepping, right!?

Actually, at first, they felt embarrassed when they refused.

After all, they knew very well in their hearts how they got the dinars in their hands.

But later, rumors spread that those leading the troublemakers were all Silver Moon Sect members. When they got hurt, many received bandages at the Silver Moon Church.

Soon, there were rumors that Pastor Melgio sympathized with the Moon people.

Moon people!

They are a thorn in the Empire’s side!

All the clues seemed to become "clear," those troublemaking renegades were instigated by the Moon Outlaws or even took money from Laxi, and the ostracism of these people immediately became logical.

Transforming from heroes admired by all to outcasts spat upon by everyone, Yishel, with bandages wrapped around his forehead, sat sullenly in the church.

This was the only place he could find a moment’s peace.

Nagi’s baton squad didn’t dare to provoke here for the time being, maybe waiting for an opportunity or maybe asking the lord for instructions. And those who spat towards the Silver Moon Sect emblem, fearing being mistaken for Moon Outlaws, didn’t dare approach here.

Ten days ago, he was facing off against Nagi while carrying Orisa’s corpse.

At that time, he was just full of hot blood and felt that things couldn’t go on like this, so he bravely stood up.

He had never seen Laxi, and thinking about it, it was impossible to meet him, as that wretch was thousands of kilometers away, let alone the fact that the invincible War God, General Arai Yang, was fighting him at the front line.

However, those people were convinced that he had met Laxi one night and swore that he had talked with the guy for several hours.

The scar on his forehead was still throbbing in pain, seemingly inflamed.

Melgio, clad in a long robe, walked over and had an old nun beside him remove the bandage for him, then applied alcohol to disinfect and put on a new one.

The intense pain tormented Yishel’s consciousness.

However, more unbearable than the physical pain was what came from within his heart.

"... I don’t understand why those people can’t see... What happened to me today will happen to them someday, or to their children. It’s obvious, this is Nagi’s way of dividing us, trying to incite us into killing each other with people we’ve never even met."

This kind of scenario appeared in "Awakener Bol," where the Inner City Nobles tried to buy Bol with a Black Card, and after he rejected it, they immediately showed their claws, trying to smear the hero and fabricate scandals about him with prostitutes, provoking the residents of Giant Stone City to hate him...

But the residents of Giant Stone City saw through the tricks of the Inner City and not only did they not trample Bol underfoot, they even united around him, becoming the spark that dispelled the long night.

The climax of that novel is right here.

He still remembered the night he heard this part; he was so excited that he couldn’t sleep all night.

"You’re too impatient," Melgio said while tending to his wounds and sighing, "What seems obvious to you is still new to the people here."

Yishel frowned, trying to argue.

"But Bol..."

Melgio quickly interrupted him.

"It’s just a novel, a submission by a canning factory worker named Spielberg in the Survivor’s Daily supplement; it’s not real history... How can you expect real people to be exactly like they are in a novel?"

"But Giant Stone City isn’t just in a novel," Yishel said in a steady voice, "I heard Bol was based on a real person."

Melgio fell silent.

Perhaps the impatient one was actually himself.

He started the Silver Gospel Report with the original intention of teaching people here to read and write their own stories once they learned to write.

Just like Spielberg, who once couldn’t even read a word, he ended up writing that earth-shattering article.

And before this, the founder of Survivor Daily, Hal, besides writing news, was merely serializing some trivial doggerel in the paper.

But now it seemed...

He seemed to have done something terrible.

He had no doubt he was on the path guided by the Silver Moon Goddess, but he was too impatient.

"I once went there, you and the people there... are different after all."

Yishel looked up, puzzled, and asked him.

"Different?"

Melgio nodded.

"Yes, they know Bol is fake, but most people believe he could be real, and genuinely hope he is real; so everyone becomes Bol. As for ’Ken,’ he is a minority among them."

"You guys are actually smarter than them but are using it in the wrong place. You also know Bol is fake, yet blame a fictional character for not being real, which is like trying to capture the moon from the water. Because you can’t retrieve the moon from the water indicates the moon is fake."

"I believe he exists! I’ve never thought he was fake!" Yishel interrupted him, standing up from the chair in excitement, "Moreover, I am willing to become him!"

"You are brave, but it means nothing... Everyone standing with you doesn’t believe. Your surroundings are destined to be dark, filled with opportunists. If you continue like this, either you will become a fleeting flame, burning out before dawn, or blaze brightly... But in any case, your end will not be good, and the people here won’t change anything."

Looking at him with pity, Melgio continued with a soothing tone.

"I don’t want you to be too discouraged. You are a good person, but I can only tell you the timing is not right. West Sail Port was established less than a year ago, and all of you... only became free citizens in the last couple of months, while most here are still slaves."

"But in Giant Stone City, slaves were never the mainstream in their society, only appearing in some farms outside the great wall. Many shelters opened their doors to bring them technologies and ideas of the Prosperity Epoch, but even so, they still degenerated for over a hundred years... Even on the brink of victory, they indirectly brewed a monster like Torch."

He also hated the Army, or perhaps no one didn’t hate those big-nosed fellows.

Especially for people from Luo Xia Province, they were just like devils, committing all sorts of evildoing.

However, after staying in West Sail Port for some time, his perspective slightly changed.

Discussing any issue can’t be done apart from the context of the times. Putting people in a cage is not good, but if it’s moving them from a narrow cage to a slightly bigger one, it’s still considered progress.

Even if that slightly larger cage is still worthy of criticism, the progress itself is worth praise.

Yishel lowered his head and remained silent.

He was grateful for this priest’s free help, as a poor wretch like him couldn’t even get his hands on such precious things as alcohol.

However, it was clear that Mr. Melgio couldn’t fully understand their pain.

On the farm’s estate, they weren’t worse off than they were at West Sail Port.

Although back then they were the private property of their master, the master wouldn’t smash a piece of furniture every day, even for the sake of the money bag.

And no matter how bad the master was, there was only one of him, most people never saw what he looked like or knew about his luxurious lifestyle, so they could live in peace.

But at West Sail Port, it was a completely different story. Those gentlemen and the Weilante people joined forces, eager to suck out even their marrow.

And now, they were not satisfied with just that. They even formed alliances in secret, making it impossible for troublemakers like him to find work and shunning them everywhere.

Without a doubt, they wanted him dead!

A glimmer of hatred gradually emerged in Yishel’s eyes.

He had no way out.

Others could just sell themselves as slaves at worst, but he could be sure that if he did so, that Nagi would mercilessly buy him and his family, using his pain for amusement and then his head as a warning.

He had to do something!

He wasn’t the only one thinking this way; the others sitting in the church felt the same.

Unlike the busy laborers at the dock, their common faith had united them.

If they dared to stand up and speak for Orisa, they dared to fight once more for the destiny of their compatriots!

"...Thank you, Mr. Melgio, thank you for bringing us the teachings of the Silver Moon Goddess, also for teaching us to read and helping us bandage our wounds."

Melgio stared blankly at Yishel, sensing something unusual in those eyes.

The look, clouded by hostility, made him a little afraid.

"What are you planning?"

Yishel lowered his voice.

"To take back what’s originally ours, before Nagi and his thugs make a move. We must act first... it’s also for you and your church; we don’t have much time left."

His words were vague, seemingly unwilling to say too much. Obviously, he himself thought the idea was unreliable, fearing it would implicate the church.

Because of this, he needed to find another place to discuss with like-minded people.

Melgio looked at the man in astonishment as he got up and walked towards the door, also watching as others in the church stood up from their pews and silently followed him.

In the blink of an eye, the once large church was left with only a few old men with shaky legs, Melgio, and the old nun beside him.

"I’m worried they’ll get into trouble..." The old nun’s eyes were filled with concern as she looked at Melgio next to her, seemingly hoping he would persuade them.

Melgio’s face was also full of concern, along with a hint of deep worry.

"I’m worried too... but what can I say? Stop him and tell him not to go? It’s useless, they won’t even tell me what they’re planning to do, I just hope he comes to his senses."

Of course, what shouldn’t have happened is those people pushing them to a dead end.

Can he persuade these people to resign to their fate?

With a light sigh, Melgio lowered his eyes, silently drawing a circle across his chest in prayer.

May the light of the Silver Moon Goddess protect them, guiding these lost lambs away from the wrong path...

This is all he could do as a pastor.

...

The dusk sank into the sea, and the night at West Sail Port was about to arrive, finally reaching shift-changing time.

A long line formed at the entrance of the labor registration office, as the workers who had completed their shifts were collecting their wages at the window one by one.

Everyone’s payday was different, but at the end of a week, they’d get paid.

Finally, it was his turn. Gowenda walked quickly forward, a flattering smile on his face as he respectfully offered his hands to the young Lion race man behind the counter.

Though this wouldn’t increase his wages by even a coin, he instinctively did so.

With so many like him, the staff here saw thousands like him every day.

The young man wasn’t inclined to waste time, counted out four coins of ten and two of one, tossed them onto the counter, and continued munching on melon seeds.

Gowenda hurriedly picked up the coins, counted them in his hand, and his eyes widened.

"Wait, why are there only 42 coins!? I worked for a week, didn’t take a day off, it should be 56 dinars, you shorted me by 14!"

The young man behind the counter gave this poor guy a disdainful look, impatiently saying.

"Who’s shorting you those few dinars? That’s your wage. If there’s a problem, take it up with Nagi."

Gowenda was fuming, clutching the coins tightly, pointing at the window and saying.

"How can you cheat! We agreed on eight dinars a day!"

The young man didn’t argue with him at all and directly called the shift manager here.

The shift manager seemed adept at handling such situations, and even before arriving, he raised his voice to shout.

"What’s all this noise about? There haven’t been many ships these days, don’t you know! Getting six dinars is already pretty good, do you think every day is as busy as two weeks ago?"

Gowenda panicked; that was the hard-earned money he had fought for, and these people just decided not to honor it!

Although six dinars a day was better than before, it made him feel slapped after working so hard for the week.

"But... two weeks ago, even after working only half a day, you still gave eight dinars!"

The manager replied impatiently.

"If you think it’s too little, don’t come tomorrow... What’s this guy’s name, circle it."

Upon hearing this, Gowenda immediately lost his temper, his face as pale as snow.

"No, no! I’ll work! I’ll come tomorrow!"

The supervisor signaled the young man behind the counter, who knowingly put down his pen and acted leniently.

"Work well, don’t keep yelling all day, once you get the money, hurry out; people are waiting in line."

The supervisor waved his hand, like shooing flies.

The surrounding workers were silent, each angry yet afraid to speak up, lest they become the ones singled out.

They had seen what happened to those Moon Outlaws, who were beaten into untouchables.

Gowenda slipped out of the registration office, looked at the shrunken coins in his hand, and then at the plaque behind him, unable to resist spitting fiercely on the ground.

"Damn..."

He should have listened to Yishel.

He dared not say this aloud, but thinking it wasn’t much of an issue.

Dragging his weary body, he limped home, considering how to spend the still fairly substantial fortune in his pocket.

Actually, thinking about it, six Dinars a day wasn’t little, enough for a family’s expenses, and might even have some left over.

Just as he thought this, there was suddenly a loud bang behind him.

The sound stunned him, instinctively turning his head to see thick smoke billowing from the warehouse district at the port, the explosion seemed to come from there.

He was familiar with that place, as he went there most days.

Inside was packed with tea and sugar, and some cotton or cloth and such.

Or cement and steel.

While cement couldn’t catch fire, sugar was dangerous, plus there were flammable things like cotton.

Gowenda heard distant shouts and the sound of hurried footsteps.

"It’s on fire! It’s the warehouse district!"

"It’s burning!"

"Quick! Hurry to put out the fire!"

It’s burning...

Seeing a day’s labor up in flames, he had no panic on his face, instead showing a schadenfreude smile.

Burn well!

Since it wasn’t his stuff, it’d be best if it burned hotter and set the entire port ablaze!

Thinking so, his steps home were light...

Meanwhile, Yishel and a group of believers, just out of the church, also heard the explosion and froze.

Soon someone reacted, speaking in a lowered voice.

"It’s the warehouse district!"

"Could it be on fire?"

Realizing what might be happening there, everyone’s faces showed relieved expressions.

However, Yishel furrowed his brows, a trace of worry appearing between his brows.

"Don’t rush to rejoice; whoever set the fire, Nagi will surely pin it on us."

He had thought about setting fire to the warehouse, and this idea had occurred more than once, but he always gave up.

Given his familiarity with the terrain there, doing it wasn’t hard, the hard part was the aftermath.

Those Weilante People couldn’t be reasoned with, and would ultimately land his group on the gallows.

The right approach should be to first organize the workers, like Bol and his coworkers did.

Though difficult, it’s not impossible, especially with the foolish Nagi, seemingly healed and forgetting the pain, cutting dock workers’ wages again.

If they are united enough, they have the capital to negotiate with those Nobles.

After all, Weilante People came to earn money, not to cause trouble for themselves.

Everyone also realized this might backfire on themselves, displaying worried expressions.

"What should we do now?"

Facing those worried eyes, Yishel had no idea, so he could only bite his teeth and say.

"Let’s wait and see..."

...

At the same time, Margaret, picking around the bustling market in the port district, also heard the explosion, involuntarily stopping to look in the direction of the sound.

The vendor also craned his neck to take a glance over there, showing a look of surprise as he saw the rising black smoke.

"It’s the warehouse district..."

Such a loud noise, could it be that the shells have been ignited?

He vaguely remembered hearing someone say that West Sail Port had some shells stored, transported from the west of Luo Xia Province, which were brought back from the frontlines by the Eastern Legion, intended to be sent to General Arai Yang.

The people in the market looked at each other in bewilderment, whispering among themselves, all showing anxious expressions on their faces.

"Madam..." The maid with slightly darker skin standing beside Margaret said in a low voice, "The port hasn’t been very safe lately, we should hurry back."

She had just heard that the port had bought another batch of slaves from nearby farms, seemingly intending to replace the troublesome ones who had been causing trouble before.

Although this had nothing to do with their family, the number of idle poor people near the port had obviously increased recently.

The way those people looked at them was like wolves, some even doing sneaky things, and it was said that the jail of the Security Bureau was almost full.

In just two weeks, the situation in West Sail Port had visibly deteriorated.

Although the tensions had been accumulating for a long time...

"Mm, let’s go back early..."

Margaret nodded, handed the favored jewelry to the maid for safekeeping, then paid the vendor, and took her daughter’s little hand to head back home.

As the wife of Yarman, she was also born into a merchant family and was once a citizen of Triumph City.

She had a keen instinct, just like her husband.

Because of this, when the explosion sounded, she immediately sensed something unusual.

She had a premonition.

Something big was going to happen here...

The group soon returned to a house near the port district, probably the safest place in the whole port, but as the year drew closer, even here had become somewhat lax.

Margaret noticed several households were not there, possibly having returned to Triumph City as well.

Or like her husband, they went to the distant East for that big deal.

Standing at the entrance, taking off her boots, she was pondering something and suddenly thought of something, bending down to gently speak to her daughter Ruby.

"By the way, Ruby, didn’t you want to visit Count Sharma’s little daughter?"

Ruby’s eyes lit up, she nodded vigorously.

"Mm! I made an appointment with An Su Ya’s little sister to play hide and seek next time we meet."

Margaret fondly patted her fluffy hair.

"Mom will take you there."

Ruby jumped up excitedly.

"Really?! How long will we go for?"

Margaret thought for a moment and then said with a smile.

"Two weeks, by then Dad should be back."

...

With the explosion, the entire West Sail Port became restlessly agitated.

The flames suddenly rose up.

And within just ten minutes, it had spread to several warehouses.

Thick black smoke blocked out the sky and the sun setting into the sea.

Nagi’s face was filled with terror, his complexion pale, lips bluish, and trembling slightly.

Looking at the equally bewildered henchmen, he screamed hoarsely.

"What are you all standing around for! Hurry up and put out the fire!"

Those henchmen holding long sticks looked at each other, all with bitter expressions.

"Sir... the fire is too big, we only have this many people, we can’t get in."

Nagi shouted without a second thought.

"Then get more people over here! Do I have to teach you everything!"

Seeing Nagi’s anger flare up, everyone immediately did not dare to pause, hurriedly grabbed sticks, and rushed towards those watching the excitement, half threatening, half enticing them to help put out the fire.

The people who gathered here to watch the excitement were mostly freemen living close to the port district.

Not all of them were short-lived laborers on the docks, some held respectable jobs as citizens.

In theory, Nagi shouldn’t be able to control these people, but in an emergency, he couldn’t care about so much.

Due to the intimidating sticks in the hands of these "long stick" men, everyone reluctantly got involved in the firefighting efforts, transporting buckets of water to the fire scene one after another.

And with the help of the first batch of people, the rest of the work became much easier.

I’ve never seen such a big fire, and some clueless individuals joined in just for the fun of it.

These people aren’t after money, just the excitement, but expecting them to do anything well is out of the question.

Fortunately, the warehouse district is by the seaside, so the water source isn’t far, and after a hectic effort, some progress was made.

Watching the people busy fighting the fire, Lord Nagi clenched his jaw and fists tightly.

Those goddamn arsonists!

It’s absolutely outrageous!

Clearly, this was done by someone familiar with this place, otherwise, it wouldn’t be so exact!

The fires all surrounded the warehouse storing sugar, leading to explosions on site.

He swore!

He must catch that arsonist scoundrel!

No doubt—

If he couldn’t find that guy to give the Vellantes an explanation, his master would definitely make him a scapegoat!

Sweat was pouring down his forehead, and Lord Nagi already had a suspect in mind; it must have been the believers of the Silver Moon Church who set the fire!

There’s no question about it, only those guys have a motive to do this!

About five or six minutes passed, and the port’s fire brigade finally arrived.

This outfit, like the post office, was something the Vellantes brought from Triumph City.

Those people drove in with water trucks and unleashed a powerful spray on the burning warehouse, quickly bringing the fire under control.

It’s just a pity that those fine sugars and tea leaves were also ruined.

Watching the tea leaves scattered everywhere and the cotton cloth, along with some sugar sand not yet dissolved, the residents fighting the fire could not help but feel compassion, especially those poor folks who ignored the commotion to join in.

These were things they couldn’t enjoy in their lifetime!

Though tainted with mud and wastewater, it wasn’t much of a problem for those who already ate mud.

At first, only one or two people rushed up to loot, but soon the chaotic crowd, like mice seeing food, swarmed up.

The water buckets used for firefighting became the hottest items, and people stuffed them with whatever they fancied.

Initially, they only picked the goods scattered by the water cannon, but later even the intact ones were not spared. Eventually, the unemployed workers also rushed in, as well as those employed who couldn’t resist the urge to grab.

They knew where the most valuable containers were and how to break in and take them.

The smart ones followed behind, clutching boxes and bundles of cloth, fleeing outside.

The warehouse district was in utter chaos, as if half the population of West Sail Port rushed there.

By the time Nagi finally realized the situation had spiraled out of control, it was too late.

He shouldn’t have mobilized the masses.

If he had let the flames burn out, it might have consumed a few warehouses before the fire brigade arrived, but possibly not caused the current great damage.

Compared to the suddenly rising flames, these so-called helpers were the real locusts!

"Stop! Stop right now! Those are Vellante items, are you all out of your minds?!"

Nagi shouted helplessly, directing his baton-wielding team forward.

However, the slaves carrying sticks looked at each other, not daring to move.

At least tens of thousands had gathered here, while they only numbered just over a hundred.

Without guns, relying solely on these sticks, imagining a fight meant they would surely perish faster.

The fire brigade, which had already controlled the blaze, attempted to disperse the looting crowd with water cannons, but instead, inflamed the people.

In the chaos, someone shouted, and a group charged up and flipped the water truck over.

The Vellantes driving the truck hid inside, too scared to come out, trembling as they called for reinforcements on their radios.

At this moment, the port’s guard finally arrived, albeit belatedly.

About fifty men formed a line at the warehouse district entrance; this was nearly all the local police force!

They probably didn’t expect just a fire to escalate into such a situation requiring their involvement.

The guard captain, carrying a ripper rifle, strode up to Nagi, grabbed his collar, and shouted with flying spit.

"What the hell is going on here!"

In two weeks, there could be chaos twice; he’d never seen such an incompetent agent—or overseer.

Of course, Nagi couldn’t admit he called this bunch to fight the fire, only for them to start looting after extinguishing it, so with a quick wit, he immediately said.

"Sir, sir, these mobs are looting amidst the fire, I couldn’t stop them..."

Judging by the scene, indeed, it looked that way.

The guard captain’s face instantly turned cold, and without a word, he grabbed his rifle and aimed at a looter not far away, hauling a bag of sugar home, and there was a sharp crack of gunfire.

The bullet hit the man’s neck right on target, and blood spurted out instantly.

The unlucky guy fell silently to the ground, lying in a puddle.

Probably even until his death, he couldn’t understand why everyone else was looting, yet he was the only one who got shot.

The people around who were also looting were stunned, not expecting the Weilante people to directly open fire and kill.

One by one, the people just stood in the warehouse area, uncertain whether to run or not.

"Put down the stolen goods in your hands!"

The security captain shouted loudly, raising the rifle in his hand, while signaling his teammates behind him to load their bullets.

"Everyone, stand still, with your hands up, let’s see who dares—"

Before he finished his sentence, a gunshot suddenly echoed from afar.

The sound was also from a Ripper Rifle, with the bullet drilling right into his chest.

The security captain froze, feeling a pain in his chest, and then blood gushed out from his wound and mouth simultaneously.

Time seemed to slow down as he widened his eyes, collapsing heavily into the arms of the comrade behind him.

Where did these guys get guns from?!

Could it be—

Blood clogged his throat, he couldn’t say a word but still managed to make a gesture to order firing.

No matter what, they had to retrieve that batch of weapons!

At all costs!

Looking at their unconscious captain, the guards behind him instantly became furious.

These scum!

They dared to kill their captain!

Their eyes were filled with hatred, seeing no distinction between civilians and thugs at the moment.

Standing here—

They’re all enemies!

"Enemy attack!"

"Prepare for battle!"

In the roars that followed, they first quickly dragged the shot captain behind cover.

Then, under the deputy captain’s orders, they decisively assumed a combat stance, firing indiscriminately in the direction the bullets were coming from.

Bullets flew wildly in the warehouse area, causing numerous casualties in an instant.

The young guy holding the looted rifle hid behind the warehouse, his face pale as a sheet.

He had followed the group of laborers and looted this from a certain warehouse storing firearms.

That group of audacious guys knocked out the guards at the warehouse door and tied them up.

These rifles were much more valuable than white sugar; it’s said they could be sold for a lot on the black market.

He originally just intended to intimidate those big-nosed people who lorded over them every day, to show them the prowess of the Mouse Tribe, but didn’t expect he’d actually kill someone with one shot.

Things had clearly blown out of proportion, and corpses lay everywhere in the warehouse area...

Seeing the group of guards approaching, he instinctively wanted to slip away, but then he heard the sound of gunfire not far off.

Bullets whizzed past, and the fierce firepower pinned a team of guards behind cover, unable to even raise their heads.

The young man looked cautiously toward where the gunshots were coming from, only to see a tall and thin man changing magazines.

In his hands was a "Blade" assault rifle!

This thing was much more powerful than a Ripper Rifle, able to fire a whole burst!

Probably among the dead in front were his relatives, and the man was also killing in a frenzy, spitting on the ground.

"Damn it, run for what?! Our firepower is way stronger than these big noses’!"

This shout immediately received responses from the other people.

Those who had planned to flee looked at the guns in their hands and instantly changed their minds.

Where could they run to anyway?

This is Poluo Province; even if they ran to the ends of the earth, they’d still be caught by the Weilante people.

They might as well learn from Laxi and use the guns in their hands to carve out their own world!

The devils they despised a few days ago now became the comfort in their hearts.

Faces that were initially uneasy gradually became fierce under the stimulus of the gunfire.

They weren’t really timid, just had their beastly nature suppressed by reprimands.

But now, that cage had been opened, and the beasts that were trapped inside had been released.

"Damn Weilante people!"

"Screw their ancestors!"

"Kill them all!!!"

"Ahhhh!"

The firefight between the two sides grew more intense, and for a moment, neither could do anything to the other.

Though the Weilante guards had rich experience in suppression, it was also their first time handling such a tricky situation.

There were too many rioters near the armory, and people were continuously joining them.

Some were there to avenge their relatives, others were fervently motivated by the rioters’ slogans, and even more were just opportunists hoping to score something.

Everyone who went over could get a gun!

Even kids could get a handgun.

After leaving behind three corpses, the Weilante guards still failed to reach the warehouse entrance.

Crouching behind cover, the vice captain gripped his walkie-talkie and yelled.

"The warehouse area needs reinforcements! I repeat, the warehouse area needs reinforcements!"

Just as he finished speaking, he suddenly saw a traction cannon being wheeled out of the warehouse entrance.

West Sail Port, as the largest lease port on the West Coast, gathered all sorts of people.

The freemen here weren’t just slaves who bought their freedom; there were also some retired veterans due to injuries.

Most of these people had previously served in the Grey Wolf Army and retreated here after losing a battle at Jin Galun Harbor.

They had received military training, so they naturally knew how to operate this thing.

Why these people would help the rioters, he couldn’t fathom.

In any case, when he witnessed those people loading the cannon, the vice captain’s face instantly changed.

"Damn it—"

He cursed just as an orange tracer flew over, hitting ten meters in front of him.

The blast wave sent him and his cover flying, instantly killing and injuring the surrounding guards.

Meanwhile, the rioters at the warehouse entrance let out an excited cheer.

"Nice hit!"

"Blow up those bastards!"

"Reload! Quickly reload! Give the port a shot too!"

"Damn it! Don’t waste time; deal with the guards in front first!"

A group of people sluggishly removed the shell casing and loaded another high-explosive shell into the cannon breech.

In the distance, the Weilante police armored car, which had been gathering dust in the warehouse, finally drove out, but when it saw the leveled 100mm cannon aiming over, it hurriedly retreated back.

Realizing that the trouble here was beyond the capability of their small force, the Weilante guards began to withdraw from the warehouse area, seemingly planning to retreat to defend the port.

A shell traced their retreating direction, not only knocking down some unfortunate guards but also collapsing a house nearby, causing many to flee in disarray.

Screams and cries rose one after another; these people were completely bloodthirsty now.

They quickly selected a "lead wolf," then gathered together, rallying those who had received guns to prepare to attack the port.

Those who got caught up, although not too willing, still instinctively clustered around them.

The world had changed.

No matter how it changed, they had no choice but to stay close to those bigger figures.

At least they wouldn’t immediately become fish on the chopping board.

No one expected a small fire to escalate into this.

Whether it was the Weilante, the Lion Clan nobles, or the freemen of West Sail Port, they were all dumbstruck by it.

Perhaps too many coincidental factors came together, causing this latent powder keg to explode at the slightest spark.

In any case, this chaos had become utterly unstoppable...

Crouching alongside several believers near the warehouse area, Yishel swallowed hard, and even his once courageous eyes showed a hint of fear.

Up till now, he still hadn’t recovered from the series of changes before him, but there was one thing he was very clear about.

Without a doubt, these people messed things up.

Although it wasn’t entirely their fault—those who first set the warehouse on fire, Nagi who forced onlookers to dash inside to extinguish the fire, and the Weilante who fired the first shot all had their share of the blame—there was no point discussing this now.

Yishel’s Adam’s apple moved slightly.

"This is a real mess now..."