"We firmly oppose a city ruled by the infected!"
"Ursus has abandoned us!"
"We demand to see His Majesty! We refuse to accept such a future!"
"Never allow the infected to enter the city; they will ruin Chernobog!"
As the royal decree reached them, a terrifying wave of unrest swept through the mobile city of Chernobog. The citizens were entirely unable to accept the harsh reality that Reunion was poised to take control.
The local patrolmen could only do their best to manage the rioting crowds. In truth, many of them wanted to join the protests, as they were equally repulsed by the thought of the infected taking over their home.
However, bound by their professional duties, these men were forced to desperately restrain the agitated masses. They knew perfectly well that no one in power cared about these people; their outcries were completely useless.
The Duke of the city was gone, the majority of the officials had been hauled back to Ursus for interrogation, and even their own commanders had fled the scene. In simpler terms, these people had been entirely abandoned.
Their rioting would only escalate the conflict. Did they truly believe that His Majesty would retract his royal decree and deny Reunion the city just because of a few angry shouts? What kind of foolish dream was that!
Now, the patrolmen could only struggle to force the panic-stricken city to remain as calm as possible. The upcoming handover was an order delivered straight from the throne of Ursus—a will that would never waver simply because these citizens were unhappy.
Yet, there was one detail that genuinely puzzled the patrolmen: why were the infected, who usually hid in the city's dark corners, remaining so quiet? Upon hearing this news, those people should have been ecstatic, rushing out into the streets to finally exact their revenge on their tormentors.
The patrolmen's instincts were not entirely wrong. When the local infected received a message from the Azazel Clinic stating that a monumental event was about to happen, almost all of them flocked to the clinic's vicinity to wait for the announcement.
This was a testament to Azazel's towering reputation within Chernobog. Confronted with a mystery that piqued everyone's curiosity, they trusted that the clinic meant them no harm, leading the vast majority of the infected to gather in one place.
Naturally, when they finally heard the official news, they were overjoyed. Their immediate instinct was to unleash the maddening desires they had suppressed for years, seeking vengeance against the uninfected who had oppressed them for so long.
After all, Reunion was an organization founded by the infected. Didn't that mean whatever actions they took now would easily be forgiven? They were infected themselves, kin to Reunion!
But just as the crowd prepared to make their move, they discovered that every exit route from the gathering area had been blocked off. Standing firmly in front of the only remaining path was an elderly figure they were all incredibly familiar with.
It was the Ursus general, Hellagur, tightly gripping his great sword!
"General Hellagur, what is the meaning of this?" The crowd instantly grew tense upon seeing him armed. They could not fathom what the usually gentle old man intended to do today.
"I know exactly what you are planning to do, which is why I gathered you all here. From this moment forth, until Reunion officially takes command of this city, not a single one of you is permitted to leave!"
Hellagur's tone carried no trace of negotiation; it was a pure, unyielding command. His sharp, eagle-like gaze swept over the crowd, causing many to feel a prick of fear and subconsciously take a step backward.
Perhaps Hellagur had been too approachable during his time managing the Azazel Clinic, leading everyone to subconsciously view him as nothing more than a kindly old caretaker.
But they had all forgotten a crucial fact: the elderly man standing before them was a legendary general who had fought across countless battlefields alongside the once-glorious Ursus Empire. He was an existence whose military achievements were enough to carve his name into the annals of history!
Like the Patriot, he was a veteran forged in the fires of a hundred wars. A warrior of his caliber was someone these local infected, who hadn't even stepped foot outside Chernobog, could never hope to challenge.
"Mr. Hellagur, you are the leader of Azazel. You have saved us more times than we can count, so we all trust you wouldn't harm us. But why are you doing this today..."
"I am stopping you exactly for the sake of your future, you fools!" Hellagur's booming voice drowned out the infected man before he could even finish his sentence. His fierce outburst left the entire crowd stunned and unsure of how to react.
"Do you think Reunion's arrival means you will finally have peace? That the days of you trampling the uninfected underfoot have arrived? Let me tell you right now, you are entirely mistaken!"
Hellagur glared at the crowd. He could understand their mindset—after enduring oppression for so long, the moment they finally flipped the tables, their first instinct was to return every ounce of suffering they had endured, with interest.
But such actions could never be tolerated! Behaving this way would only serve as ironclad proof that the infected were inherently dangerous, forever cementing the idea that they could never coexist with the uninfected, ensuring they would never truly be free.
"Reunion's purpose is to forge a city that no longer discriminates against the infected, not a city where the infected hold special privileges! They are fighting so that your descendants, and the people you love, will no longer be terrified to the point of suicide upon contracting Oripathy!"
Hearing Hellagur's passionate words, the crowd fell into a heavy silence. Deep down, they had guessed that Reunion wouldn't allow them to endlessly slaughter the uninfected, which was precisely why they had wanted to strike first and ask for forgiveness later.
"Think of your children! Think of your future! Think of your own kin! Are you truly so eager to live in a city where everyone harbors endless hatred for one another?"
Hellagur swung his sheath, swatting away an infected man who tried to sprint past him. He didn't even draw his blade, merely smacking the agitators away as though he were swinging a tennis racket.
Standing alone, Hellagur blocked the combined charge of the infected crowd. Through his stern warnings and physical persuasion, the hot-blooded individuals gradually began to cool down.
"So we just stand here and watch? We haven't forgotten the faces of the people who murdered our children, our friends, and our families!" The infected roared with deep, lingering resentment.
They already knew they couldn't breach Hellagur's defensive line with mere numbers. The old veteran's martial prowess was truly terrifying, and they were also unwilling to genuinely harm the man who had sheltered them for so many years.
"Think carefully. The ones who harmed you specific individuals. Those who took pleasure in persecuting the infected will undoubtedly be brought to justice by Reunion. They will give you the fairness you deserve."
Hellagur planted his great sword into the ground, panting heavily. The skirmish had taken quite a toll on him. He was already a man advanced in years, and fending off such a massive crowd all at once consumed a tremendous amount of stamina.
Fortunately, he had managed to stabilize the situation. The crowd no longer harbored thoughts of storming into the residential districts to massacre the uninfected. The rest of the burden now lay entirely on Reunion's shoulders.
Meanwhile, deep within the city streets, Jeanne—who had advanced ahead of the main force—was holding a radio transceiver. Relying on her Revelation, she guided her squad members to swiftly extinguish outbreaks of violence across the districts.
Jeanne had essentially transformed into a living crime radar. Every single location she directed her troops to had a one hundred percent chance of harboring trouble, and the Reunion fighters efficiently suppressed the rioters trying to exploit the chaos.
Once Talulah officially arrived, she definitely wouldn't let these instigators off the hook easily. They could also use these local gangs as the perfect punching bags to flex Reunion's martial strength.
After all, in many situations, a heavy fist spoke far clearer than polite reasoning.
While Chernobog was currently a boiling cauldron of chaos, Reunion continued to execute their plans systematically. They successfully gathered all the university students together into centralized management zones and swiftly neutralized anyone foolish enough to attack them.
There were still a few brave souls who tried to resist, crafting crude firebombs using vodka and glass bottles. They hid in the alleys, preparing to ambush the Reunion fighters, but every single attempt was violently shut down.
By this time, the massive protesting crowds had finally quieted down, largely due to the sheer presence of Reunion's arrival. The citizens hid inside their homes, staring out their windows in absolute terror as the squads of infected marched through the streets, their hearts filled with despair.
"H-hello, we are the Ursus Guard Department," the patrolmen stammered, their voices trembling as they addressed the towering Sarkaz standing before them. They had unfortunately stumbled right into the battalion commanded by the Patriot.
"The fact that you are still trying to fulfill your duties at a time like this... is quite commendable." The Patriot's glowing red eyes locked onto the Ursus patrolmen as he offered a rare word of praise.
The patrolmen swallowed hard, staring at the terrifying figure. This has to be the legendary Patriot, right? His oppressive aura is completely suffocating!
Just as the Patriot was about to speak again, an urgent transmission crackled over the radio. The moment he heard the message, his aura shifted drastically. The patrolmen immediately tensed up!
Is it finally happening? Is he going to hack us to pieces, or forcefully turn us into the infected?
"I understand. You lot, come with us. You are being conscripted!" The Patriot delivered a swift response over the radio before barking a direct order at the terrified patrolmen.
"Huh?" The men felt completely unable to process the situation. What was going on?
"We require your assistance in evacuating the populace. A sudden Catastrophe is about to strike. The blast radius encompasses six districts, including the core of Chernobog. You need to get to work immediately."
The Patriot raised his head, staring at the rapidly darkening sky.