First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 167
Chapter 167: Malice
This world is utterly messed up.
Hearing that person's words, the students' emotions twisted even more violently than when they discovered District 36 had been breached.
They rolled back to their original positions, pressing against the wall, bodies stiff as boards, pretending they didn't exist.
How many tragedies does life hold? What's past should stay in the past.
A soldier asked, "Really no one needs to use the bathroom anymore?"
Dozens of fish suddenly came back to life, flopping about joyfully like they'd just been thrown ashore.
The soldier said, "Everyone wait!"
This time it was slightly easier—one soldier escorted each student to the restroom.
The first student turned his head to look at his departing companions, a tear glistening at the corner of his eye before he flipped back over.
When going out, the students thought they'd at least have their restraints removed for bathroom convenience. They were prepared to take down a couple of guards given the chance.
But no—the soldiers led them to the urinals without leaving. Expressionless, they slung their weapons over their shoulders and reached for the students' pants.
The students gasped in horror, upper bodies arching backward desperately to escape their grasp.
"Don't move, or I'll make you piss yourself right here!" The soldier increased his grip, exasperated. "Damn kids, think I don't have junk too? I'm disgusted as hell, okay? Don't push me!"
The male student closed his eyes, feeling his chastity violated. Zipper down, business done, zipper up—all in one smooth motion.
The soldier patted his crotch meaningfully before dragging him back.
Batch after batch of students took turns going in and out.
They left like crazed rabbits but returned with expressions of having seen the afterlife.
Their companions were puzzled until they each took their turn and returned with world-weary understanding.
Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder.
After the "exposure therapy," these red-faced students became much more docile. The atmosphere in the training room grew oddly tense.
Lying on the floor, they stole glances at the soldiers standing by the wall.
They seemed like normal people—not as vicious as imagined, capable of conversation and human speech.
Could they be... reformed?
Noticing a student staring, a soldier walked over, removed the gag, and asked, "What?"
The student flashed a brilliant smile. "Wanna chat, buddy?"
The soldier stuffed the gag back in. "Who wants to chat with you? Where's your sense of awareness?"
Disappointed, the student turned his head away—then suddenly shuddered and twisted back to look at him.
"That's right, didn't wash." The soldier wiggled his fingers, grinning cruelly. "Who knows if you'll need to go again? Washing constantly would chap my hands. You kids are such a hassle."
The male student resumed his convulsive flopping as if his entire body was spasming.
Another soldier approached. "What now?"
"Students will be students. Hah." The first soldier's smile faded abruptly as he said, "Relax, we won't kill you before you officially step onto the battlefield."
Doctor Lin glanced at them but remained lying down without moving.
Listening to the gunfire outside, his heartbeat grew heavier until he felt ready to explode.
He didn't dare close his eyes, keeping them fixed on the sky outside.
In the bomb shelter, food distribution began.
Those who arrived early had been inside nearly four hours—frightened, hungry, and uncertain.
Not knowing how long they'd be trapped here, they were terrified. The future was unpredictable; even the present felt like a haze.
Some had come in a hurry with little food. Others simply couldn't find anything to eat.
They clutched their bags tightly, eyeing those around them with suspicion. Even if hungry, none wanted to be the first to take out their provisions.
Then Gelen United Army soldiers arrived carrying supplies to share.
Some plainly dressed residents accepted steaming cups of milk, their hands trembling.
The warmth spreading from their palms also warmed their hearts.
Having steeled themselves for the worst, this sudden kindness caught them off guard.
This was the first time they'd received such direct assistance from military and government—ironically, not from their own Alliance.
Tears fell before they realized it.
Black-uniformed soldiers comforted them quietly before moving on to aid other refugees.
One soldier approached Ji Ban's group. After distributing supplies, he crouched down beside them.
Lian Sheng tensed, subtly shifting her gaze toward Ji Ban.
A middle-aged man nervously placed a hand on Ji Ban's shoulder. "This is my son."
His anxiety seemed perfectly normal in this environment, raising no suspicion.
Somehow they found a blanket for Ji Ban, draping it over his waist.
Noticing Ji Ban's despondency, the soldier patted his head.
"Don't worry, we won't harm civilians. You'll be out soon." The soldier said gently, "I know life in District 36 hasn't been kind, but that's over now. Gelen governs here, and we'll restore justice and prosperity to its people."
These soldiers worked patiently. Two hours passed before they finished distributing supplies in this section.
The shelter likely had basic cleaning robots, yet they chose to deliver items personally—using the opportunity to calm the unsettled crowd.
Then they took bread to a semi-secluded spot and ate quietly yet efficiently in full view.
Lian Sheng watched them, clicking her tongue in admiration.
Now these were real soldiers.
Fang Jianchen lay back, hands behind his head, and scoffed. "All show. Exploiting people at their weakest to boost popularity. Quite the politicians."
Zhao Zhuoluo warned, "Keep your voice down."
Resistance here had visibly softened. The local government had never been popular in District 36.
If residents defected now, it wouldn't be surprising. Best to stay cautious.
Though they knew these soldiers didn't represent the true Alliance.
Lian Sheng leaned against the wall, twisting her fingers. "Not necessarily."
Zhao Zhuoluo: "What do you mean?"
"If you were in their unit, wouldn't you do the same?" Lian Sheng said.
Fang Jianchen sat up abruptly. "Why play hypotheticals?"
"If Alliance troops were ordered to occupy another district whose residents suffered under harsh rule—who'd thank you for a cup of milk—whose leaders were so cruel they made people forget to love their homeland... And you stood before them." Lian Sheng sighed softly. "Would you harm them or comfort them? Look how young they are—just soldiers following orders. Their kindness might be genuine, regardless of other motives."
The group fell silent.
Lian Sheng said, "It's the same, really."
Everyone believes they're righteous. That's what gives them courage to pull the trigger.
But small people's righteousness never decides outcomes. Their promises mean nothing.
Just individual kindness between individuals.
Fang Jianchen grew agitated. He didn't know if his next words were for himself or others. Fear warred with a desperate need for Lian Sheng to deny him.
He grabbed her arm, teeth clenched. "Are you saying you believe them? That our government would cruelly trap civilians as hostages by cutting comms to hinder Gelen's advance? What about our military? Have they abandoned us too?"
The flood of his worst fears left him gasping as if dunked in ice water.
After calming slightly, he released her arm and retreated to a corner.
"Don't be absurd." Zhao Zhuoluo frowned. "How can you think so darkly? You grew up in the Alliance—don't you know it better?"
Fang Jianchen snapped, "I grew up human too, but I don't understand all people!"
"No, I doubt our government cut the signal towers. Too stupid. With Gelen's surprise attack, losing comms means losing real-time intel and response capability—disadvantages outweigh benefits." Lian Sheng mused, "Remember, District 36 has stationed troops. Timely deployment could've prevented this."
After a pause, she added, "I see. They had inside help—first cutting comms, then breaching defenses before our government reacted. The takeover was so swift, our side might still be mobilizing to retake control. That's why Gelen herded us here—preparing for the real battle."
Ye Buqing frowned. "For that, they'd need either general-level clearance or deep infiltration across departments. Both seem unlikely."
"But past truth doesn't matter now. The Alliance's neglect is fact. Gelen's outreach is fact. The future?" Lian Sheng shrugged. "Neither side is trustworthy, but the Alliance has past stains. By that measure, Gelen wins slightly."
Lu Mingyuan sighed. "It shouldn't be this way. The Alliance is good—they just don't know. When we were in trouble before, didn't Doctor Lin protect us?"
Mentioning Doctor Lin made him slump further. "If the base fell... what about them?"
Lian Sheng said, "You can't deny this is District 36's own choice."
"Meaning what?"
"They're abandoning the Alliance because they feel abandoned by it."
"That's not—! Or do you think they're right?" Fang Jianchen kept his voice low, glancing at distant soldiers. "Everyone knows Gelen invaded for the mines. They need local support now, but later? After stripping District 36 bare, will they still care? The Gelen United Army are locusts! They can't guarantee futures, but our Alliance can! Countless depleted mining districts have thrived under Alliance rebuilding! They forget Alliance achievements but thank invaders for milk..."
His anger mounted until he punched the ground.
Words failed him.
Scrubbing his face, he muttered, "I don't know..."
He didn't know how to hate someone showing kindness. How to make them forgive the Alliance's mistakes.
He just didn't know.
Seeing their conflicted expressions, Lian Sheng understood their turmoil.
They thought hating enemies would come naturally, yet now found they couldn't.
This was worse than danger—losing control of their own convictions, fearing they might waver.
"Comrade Fang Jianchen, calm down. I'm stating facts, not endorsing their actions." Lian Sheng said, "There's a term—'just cause.' For external and internal optics, they need justification. The soldiers before you may know nothing. But war's morality isn't judged by individual kindness. Their goodness doesn't change war's nature."
Lian Sheng concluded, "Right or wrong depends on outcomes and sacrifices. On the future. On us. If you want to prove them wrong, don't wallow here—think what you should do."
The group fell into contemplative silence.
Thirteen hours after District 36's fall, the Alliance finally noticed.
No distress signals reached neighboring districts or headquarters. District 36 wasn't at the outermost edge, creating a temporary blind spot.
Only after prolonged radio silence did alarm bells ring.
By then, the golden window had closed.
This inexcusable error couldn't be suppressed.
The political faction wanted to conceal it temporarily, but military leaders insisted on disclosure. Hiding grave mistakes would only inflame public outrage.
Once news broke, PR fell to politicians while the military convened emergency meetings to plan rescue operations.
Public uproar ensued.
Citizens instantly doubted the Alliance's border security. Officials couldn't answer the flood of accusations—they didn't know either.
Why this vulnerability? What corruption allowed it? What of District 36's residents? The students?
The military bore the brunt of blame—thick and tar-black.
Politicians didn't deflect responsibility. They grasped the severity. Public trust bound both factions together now.
With national territory at stake, internal squabbles were irrelevant.
Against external threats, unity was paramount. The immediate priority: uncover what happened.
Alliance University submitted investigative findings to both factions.
After Lian Sheng's group was punished, District 36's response had raised red flags, prompting discreet inquiries.
The uncovered corruption was staggering in scope. Seeking thorough verification, they'd secretly forwarded reports to superiors.
Before any action could be taken, disaster struck.
The horrified director, recognizing the gravity, resubmitted documents—this time to the Expeditionary Force.
Military leaders were speechless—utterly speechless.
While citizens cursed the military's ancestors eighteen generations back, those same ancestors were being cursed by military leaders toward politicians.
But there was no time for blame games now.
All leave was canceled as emergency meetings convened.
At all costs, District 36 must be reclaimed. Compensation would come later.
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