Rumble— Rumble—

  Creak— Creak—

  The alternating echoes of diesel engines and caterpillar tracks crushing gravel woke Bruno up.

  His head felt like it was splitting open!

  What was that? The ink-like darkness was fading. Through the morning mist, rows of military vehicles could be seen driving toward the camp under the cover of the fog.

  In fact, the mist didn't even matter. The rebels wouldn't dare attack the Central Army. Their only hope was that the other side of the river would take them in, but they hadn't expected the President across the shore to have no intention of fighting another war.

  Still, the Central Military Commission took the safest approach.

  "Quietly" approaching the besieged camp under the cover of the fog.

  In the corridor outside the office, young soldiers began running frantically, shouting, followed by the heavy sound of dense footsteps heading downstairs.

  Bruno had guessed yesterday that the moment of rescue would arrive soon. The soldier who delivered his meal yesterday looked dejected—very different from Bruno, who, despite being detained, still had the mood to drink.

  His biggest worry now was being dragged out by the rebels to be used as a human shield, or even killed.

  Bruno hid inside the office bathroom. During the war, this office had been remodeled to include a bathroom and a kitchen.

  This was to ensure basic survival functions weren't lost if the enemy ever blockaded the room.

  Before he could even think of what to use to prop the bathroom door from the inside, the sound of a massive loudspeaker made his eardrums sting like a needle prick.

  "The Party Central Committee will never allow gray industries within the military. This is a betrayal of the people and the state! Lay down your weapons immediately and end the siege of the camp before eight o'clock. I am General Valerius. I promise that soldiers who surrender voluntarily will not face criminal charges, only disciplinary and organizational consequences—specifically, expulsion from the military and the Party."

  Valerius?

  The Central Government sent a founding general for this?

  "Hand over Jaxon to face justice, and you can earn credit to atone for your crimes. You may avoid being double-expelled."

  "Anyone who fires on surrendering personnel will face the death penalty. Anyone who fires on detained or house-arrested comrades will face the death penalty."

  "Your parents, siblings, and relatives will all be implicated; they will be barred from public office."

  "This notice will end after eight o'clock this morning. Then, heavy armor will be used to storm the camp. Lay down your weapons and surrender immediately."

  The clearing was about to begin.

  Bruno grew even more nervous. During a cleanup, stray bullets were inevitable. There would always be those who, knowing their crimes were unforgivable, would choose to fight to the death.

  Bruno didn't just need to delay being taken hostage; he had to prevent being hit by stray rounds. The bathroom wall facing the exterior was unsafe.

  What if a stray shell actually hit?

  Thinking of this, he moved a huge pile of books and documents from the office, stacking a book wall over a meter high against the exterior bathroom wall.

  He dragged a metal cabinet into the bathroom to block the locked door. Finally, he sat directly on the floor, quietly waiting for the moment of the assault.

  "The purpose of the Party is to serve the people, not to use organizational power for profit. Your families and the people of the whole country hope you will turn back. You cannot go further down the wrong path."

  "Open your eyes and look. How many people are still starving? Is this the original intention of your military service?"

  "The army is the guardian of the people; it should not compete with the people for profit."

  ...

  He didn't know how much time had passed. Half an hour?

  Or an hour?

  The shouting downstairs grew more intense. There seemed to be a brawl. Bruno couldn't hear clearly what they were arguing about; it sounded like a regional dialect.

  The sound of walls being smashed, iron doors being violently shaken, and guns being thrown down.

  Had they started surrendering?

  "Bruno, Bruno, Bruno! Come out!" a young soldier outside the door called.

  Do you think I'm stupid?

  Bruno cursed silently. If the Central Military Commission people had arrived, they would definitely call him "Chief of Staff Bruno." You're calling my name just because you want to drag me out as a hostage, don't you?

  The jingle of a keychain rattled as someone tried the lock.

  Then came the angry banging on the door after the lock wouldn't turn.

  It got louder and more violent.

  Bruno had also locked the main office door and blocked it with sofas and cabinets—he had quietly done all of this last night.

  He hoped they could hold out for five or six minutes.

  The bathroom door for another five or six.

  Ten minutes, and he’d just about be rescued!

  The soldier outside seemed to have found an axe or a hammer and started smashing the door.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  "Dammit, this bastard actually blocked the door in advance. I could still open it when I brought him food yesterday."

  "Son of a bitch!"

  "Bruno! Get out here!"

  Bruno ignored their curses. The rebels were desperate. He just focused his ears on the sounds downstairs.

  "Creak!"

  The sound of an iron gate being opened, followed by the dense sound of sprinting footsteps. Bruno’s heart leaped. Rescue was coming.

  A few stray gunshots rang out from downstairs, but more common was the sound of weapons being discarded.

  Clatter— Clatter—

  Each sound was another rifle being thrown away.

  Crash! The soldier outside finally broke through the wooden door, but the sofa and cabinets were still blocking the way.

  The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps coming upstairs echoed:

  "Don't move!"

  "Don't move! Drop your weapons!"

  It was the accent of the Northern Central Army. Bruno let out a long sigh of relief.

  Saved!

  At this time, Elena and Roan were waiting for a vehicle by the roadside. It was only five-thirty when they set out, and it was likely seven o'clock now, but the truck had yet to appear.

  Maybe the fog was too thick this morning for the trucks to move, or maybe the military had blocked the traffic. Who knew?

  Wait a little longer.

  Roan sat in the grass, had started a small fire, and was looking down, roasting two corn cobs.

  The corn in August was already ripe. Although the leaves hadn't started to wither yet, the signs of a bountiful harvest were already visible.

  There shouldn't be a famine this winter.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Elena had been anxious, but thinking about the bumper crop of food this winter made her feel much better.

  Roan, wiping his eyes as the smoke stung them, smiled and said, "If the truck doesn't come soon, we'll be caught as thieves."

  In fact, stealing two corn cobs wouldn't get them arrested as thieves.

  At most, they’d explain they were just too hungry. The benefit of collective production was that the farmers wouldn't risk their lives over a tiny loss of the village's interests.

  After all, what was lost belonged to the collective.

  Elena felt Roan should be more worried about whether the soldiers searching the mental hospital would catch him.

  Why did they want to catch Roan?

  Elena thought for a while, and her conclusion was: as a hostage.

  Yes, Roan had just been given special treatment by the higher-up leaders to have his ID card reissued. Using him as a hostage was perfect. If all else failed, taking Roan to the border would force his father, the division commander on the other side, to give the rebels a way out, right?

  Thinking of this, Elena focused more on watching both ends of the road. No soldiers, please.

  The roasted corn was done.

  Golden and crispy, one look was enough to make anyone salivate.

  Elena took a small bite.

  "Mmm, delicious."

  She looked up to see Roan laughing at her. What did that mean?

  "Your mouth is all black, hahaha!" Roan laughed loudly.

  How could you eat roasted corn without getting black on your face? Elena ignored him, thinking there was no one else here anyway, so who cared.

  After finishing the corn and washing their hands in a ditch, the two waited for another hour. It wasn't until the sun was high in the sky that a truck with a plate ending in 665 finally arrived.

  This was also the first vehicle to pass this road today.

  It’s said that truck drivers love to chat.

  Sure enough, when the driver, a man in his 30s, heard they were Marcus's friends, his mouth started running like a little radio:

  "Do you know why I'm late?"

  "Why?" Roan asked.

  "Because I just watched General Valerius surround and suppress the reactionaries! Hahaha, it was so exciting. So many people were watching."

  "Huh? You dared to watch a battle?" Elena stuck out her tongue.

  With a female listener, the driver got even more excited. He drove with one hand and waved the other: "Why wouldn't I dare? Would those rebels dare attack the masses? It's not like they don't have families."

  "Lots of people climbed onto rooftops to watch. But guess where I climbed?"

  Roan and Elena: "..."

  Elena didn't even dare to reply, afraid the driver would get too excited and drive the truck into a ditch. That would be a disaster.

  "Can't guess? Hahaha! Some people climbed the water tower, but we weren't... uh, actually, we climbed a small hill near the camp. Over a hundred of us climbed up. We saw everything clearly. Those rebels started arguing with each other at first, then they started fighting internally."

  "Later, someone just opened the iron gate, and the army rushed in. They caught them one by one like little lambs. It was so satisfying!"

  "I think I missed something," Roan muttered to himself.

  The driver finally noticed the gauze on Roan's forehead. "Eh? You're injured? You wouldn't happen to be a fleeing rebel, would you?"

  "No, brother, I'm a Solana man." Roan pulled out his ID card again.

  Elena: "..."

  She should have told this guy to be careful about being taken hostage earlier.

  To change the subject, Elena made small talk: "Brother driver, what are you hauling? The whole truck feels so heavy."

  "Ha? You'd never guess, would you? It's a whole truckload of fertilizer!" The driver swayed his head and body as he spoke, looking as if he was about to start dancing.

  "Oh—" Seeing the subject change successfully and Roan putting away his ID, Elena didn't want to talk anymore.

  But the driver's mouth wouldn't stop.

  "Little sister, let me tell you, this is the last batch of Soviet fertilizer. There won't be any more after this."

  "What? The last batch?" Roan didn't understand.

  "Ha, you don't know?" The driver raised his left hand high again, looking triumphant. "The Soviets don't want to help us anymore. The state-owned fertilizer plant has already started developing its own fertilizer. I've seen the workshop—it's taller than a three-story... no, no, taller than a five-story building."

  Seeing the driver actually let go with both hands to gesture the height of the fertilizer plant, Elena angrily punched Roan. Why talk to a lonely driver for no reason?

  Roan turned his head, understood Elena's look, and finally shut up.

  "Little sister, do you know the goal of the state-owned fertilizer plant?"

  Elena: "..."

  "Their goal is to sell fertilizer to the other side of the river, and to the whole world! Hahaha, it cracks me up."

  "What's so strange about that? We're supposed to do business with each other in the future anyway," Elena grumbled.

  "Yeah? How do you know?" The driver’s shocked expression made Elena both annoyed and amused. "Little sister, I'm telling you, I got big news in the capital. We're going to have peace talks with the other side within ten days. Word is the goal is to trade and allow family visits."

  "So fast?" Elena cried out.

  She hadn't wanted to talk, but the driver had hooked her again. To be honest, she was a bit annoyed, but the news was too exciting.

  "What do you mean so fast? Let me tell you, I heard something else in the capital. They say the Central government always knew the army here was smuggling. They actually sent people to observe secretly, to see how big border trade could get and what benefits it could bring the people."

  "..." Elena thought, was he talking about Arthur?

  This driver was a miracle worker; he had every piece of news.

  "Now that something's happened on the other side, it's the perfect time to deal with them. Those rebels were stupid enough to besiege the camp."

  "What happened on the other side?" Roan seemed a bit tense.

  "You don't know either?" Seeing them shake their heads, the driver gave a vivid account of the "West Gate Street Incident" he’d heard on the radio.

  Hearing that the person clearing the battlefield at dawn was Division Commander Antonio from the other side, Roan even asked the driver to be more specific with the details.

  Since the driver was such a chatterbox, the 60-kilometer trip felt like it was over in no time.

  It was only after Elena got off that she remembered she’d forgotten to ask the driver's name. She could have asked him for more out-of-town gossip next time.

  The two found the tractor parked by the road and headed toward Solana with a roar.