Chapter 415: A Cry From the Frontlines

Yenir raised an eyebrow.

He never expected Lin Rou to say something like that.

Even as the young girl struggled to hold back, he could still feel the deep hatred and resolute determination behind her words—a call to wipe them out that carried far too many implications…

And…

“You hate the Military? You think they’re at fault?”

“Hate?”

“You could say that.”

Without any hesitation.

After murmuring the words under her breath, Lin Rou boldly revealed her true feelings right in front of Yenir.

Her head hung low while her fists—covered in dried blood—were clenched tightly on her knees, as if she had nothing left to lose.

Listening to Lin Rou’s unabashed answer only deepened Yenir’s surprise.

He leaned back on the sofa, his gaze fixed gravely on the girl before him.

Being a Military Committee member, he knew that Lin Rou’s bold words in his presence were highly inappropriate.

Yet, he didn’t seem too bothered.

“It was the Military that saved you. You’re a soldier of the Construction Corps too. Are you upset because their rescue came too late?”

“As a soldier, you should know that sometimes it isn’t a lack of willingness to help—it’s simply impossible. We have to consider the greater picture.”

“And now you no longer want to protect them?”

“Survivors can be good or bad. The vast majority of the innocent need our protection—you can’t condemn everyone. Comrade Lin Rou, your thinking is dangerous.”

Her words carried a weight of meaning.

In a calm tone that sounded all too official, Yenir probed, suddenly realizing that Lin Rou’s change hadn’t started after she was sold—it had begun much earlier…

“Good and bad?”

Almost as if enraged, Lin Rou suddenly lifted her head and glared fiercely at Yenir.

“What do you mean by ‘good and bad’? Are nine out of ten people villains?”

“Our Settlement where we were captured is already as ‘friendly’ as it gets with the Military! We rescued them from the Slave Capture Team, for goodness’ sake! But do you know? Who betrayed the few soldiers who hid away?”

“Uncle Wang and his men were hidden in the cellar to recover, yet those survivors dragged them out to boast in front of the Slave Capture Team!”

Each word was deliberate as Lin Rou’s anger flared, as though she were reliving that fateful day.

“If they betrayed us just for survival, fine—I admit it!”

“But those bastards were already making their exit! They didn’t even notice Uncle Wang! And yet, these heartless scum sold us out without a trace!”

“And all of this—simply because they were too afraid of inconvenience!”

“They don’t hate those villains; they hate us! They don’t fear the Military—they’re scared of a mere caravan!”

Silence.

Yenir stood there silently, watching as Lin Rou’s glare burned into him.

The girl’s chest heaved rapidly; in her furious eyes was nothing but defiance, anger, and profound disappointment with humanity.

“A few cases don’t represent everything,” he reasoned.

“Ordinary people aren’t professionally trained—they get scared and retreat. It’s natural.”

“Cases?”

Before Yenir could finish, Lin Rou scoffed, pushed herself up, and snapped quickly:

“What do you mean by ‘cases’?!”

“Cases? Are there just over 300 Slave Capture Teams in the whole Far Frontier? Is it only a case that more than 60% of the population serves those factions?!”

“Is it a case that we—like dogs—are hunted relentlessly by the Military, not even daring to reveal our identities?!”

“This place is rotten! The Far Frontier is rotten!”

“From top to bottom, everyone here scrambles upwards! They trample on their own kind and, to please the High-Level Awakener, they’re even willing to sacrifice their own kin like animals!”

“Have you ever been to an arena? To the Canglang? To the Blood Factory?”

“Look at these people! They don’t despise the scum that rules them—they resent that they aren’t one of them!”

“History here has been so twisted that no one remembers what we once did!”

“They see us as enemies! As lackeys!”

“They’d rather grovel to outsiders than spare the Military even a drop of aid!”

“We’re out there saving lives! Every soldier stands guard at the Border! Even starving, we still share what little we have!”

“But what do we get in return?!”

“Why?! Tell me, why is this happening?!”

Bang!

In a burst of passion, Lin Rou slammed her fist onto the tea table, shattering the glass instantly. Not one shard even avoided her wild swing.

She stared fixedly at Yenir, trembling with raw emotion.

Almost as if answering herself, her face twisted as she finally let out the thoughts she’d harbored for so long.

“Is it because… we’re supposed to be the good guys?”

“Is it because we have to swallow our pride and put this so-called greater good first?”

“Is it because people like you, sitting high above, can command our slow, inevitable death with a single word?”

Unashamedly revealing the scorn and hatred in her eyes, Lin Rou disregarded whether her words might enrage this high-ranking figure. She no longer cared—she wanted to vocalize the suffering and frustration borne by everyone.

“It’s almost laughable…”

“Men like you just need to utter a phrase like ‘for the peace of the Far Frontier,’ and those below must obey, retreating step after step…”

“Have you ever been on the ground? Do you know the life we lead? Have you seen how many of us have died?”

“Hah, it’s just a number, isn’t it?”

Lin Rou scoffed as visions of fallen comrades flashed before her eyes.

“The Border is waterless.”

“To avoid unnecessary trouble, the Military ordered us to source water locally.”

“Where is water? In the desert’s edge, there’s hardly any!”

“In dire times, we even drank our own urine.”

“Those Safe Zones and caravans shamelessly jack up prices—a bucket of water can cost as much as a bucket of ore!”

“Do you know how many lives we sacrificed to secure these supplies from the Border, from the enemy Awakeners?”

“Because the Border is so remote and transport is a nightmare, the Military forced us to endure hardship and scrimp on every resource.”

“But how can we fight if we’re starving? Can empty promises fill our stomachs?”

“In the first half of the year, we barely managed to secure a resource site that provided some food. How many lives did we lose because of that?”

“And then? Just because a nearby Private Faction claimed the resources as theirs, the Military handed them over to avoid conflict…”

“And then? That meager force of barely a hundred people took the supplies and flipped them for ten times the price… They even had the cheek to sell leftover wastewater!”

“Always retreating! Enduring everything, conceding everything!”

“No Spirit Crystals! No Equipment! No supplies! How many soldiers’ strengths have been stunted by a lack of resources?! How many talented fighters have died because of it?!”

“What happened to the promised rear guard? Where is our home supposed to be?!”

“Across the entire Far Frontier, every faction colludes with foreigners, every caravan secretly betrays us, stabbing us in the back!”

Her voice broke as if crying out in agony.

With each accusatory word, Lin Rou’s eyes turned red as she glowered at Yenir—the so-called ‘big shot.’

“Rip!”

Seeing Yenir’s silence, she let out a bitter laugh and tore open the bloodstained Combat Uniform clinging to her chest, shamelessly exposing her wounds.

“Do you know what I saw in the slave camp?”

Before Yenir could even react, Lin Rou spoke softly:

“I saw one zombie—or rather, two.”

“One, dressed in a Military uniform, tied to a pillar. It was a girl…”

“The other was being led by a rope, forced down by someone.”

“She wasn’t bitten by a zombie…”

“She was stabbed to death—with her intestines spilled out!”

Lin Rou managed a gentle smile as she looked at Yenir’s stunned face. She stepped closer, urging him to clearly see the mark burned onto her chest.

“Can you see it now?”

“I’m Number 12. That girl is Number 11.”

“I almost became the next one.”

The vivid red branding of the number 12 seared into her skin contrasted sharply with her pale flesh.

It was blinding.

Ice-cold.