Chapter 121: Killing People?
Every day out on missions brought heavy pressure. Cigarettes and alcohol were excellent stress relievers—nicotine and alcohol both helped ease mental tension.
Merle curled his lip. He couldn't convince the other squad leaders for sure.
Thinking about this, Merle waved his hand dismissively. "You weren't planning to give me anything anyway," he said without much energy.
Seeing Merle's expression, Caesar smiled and held up two fingers. "How about I save you this much?"
Merle turned his head to look, his mouth corners unavoidably lifting. "Two cases?"
Caesar's face stiffened slightly. "Two cases? Two bottles of alcohol and two cartons of cigarettes!"
Although the quantity wasn't much and he'd have to share with his subordinates, why not take what was offered?
Merle's facial expression instantly transformed into something fawning as he grinned. "Then thank you very much, boss."
"Look at you—dog-faced!"
Merle's face-changing ability, comparable to Sichuan opera mask changes, genuinely made Caesar laugh.
"By the way, it's been a long time since we came to Atlanta. Be careful," Caesar said, as if remembering something.
When Merle first came to Atlanta with Andrea and the others, he'd shown no concern for their safety, firing his rifle from atop the department store on his own.
He'd attracted a lot of walker attention. At the time, he'd felt his skills were exceptional and he wasn't in danger, completely ignoring the situation of his companions like Glenn.
Hearing Caesar say this, Merle understood what he meant. His face became serious. "I guarantee I won't disobey the boss's orders."
Seeing this joking manner, Caesar knew Merle had changed a lot. He patted his shoulder without saying much more. "Good that you understand."
As Caesar started to walk away, Merle suddenly asked, "Boss, if we encounter survivor groups in Atlanta, what attitude should we take toward them?"
Caesar's footsteps halted. He turned to look at Merle. "What do you think?"
Merle grinned, speaking without restraint. "Of course we should scatter them completely and make them join Yellowstone."
Hearing these words, Caesar moved closer to Merle, their eyes meeting. "That's impossible, Merle."
"We're not raiders, and we're not butchers. I can't casually slaughter other people's groups and expect them to gratefully join us."
"And, Merle."
Caesar's voice paused before continuing. "After doing something like that, many people in Yellowstone definitely wouldn't approve of your methods."
"Maybe the other squad leaders wouldn't agree with your approach either."
"What do you think I should do then?"
Caesar's eyes were deep black. Looking into those dark pupils, Merle's eyelid twitched.
He knew Caesar wasn't threatening him—hadn't even used a single coercive word.
He was simply telling him the consequences.
Merle understood that even if Caesar didn't oppose his methods, after returning to the valley, his foolish brother would be the first to object.
At that point, the situation would become very difficult to resolve.
Merle's gaze flickered, clearly thinking about the consequences.
Caesar nodded. "Good that you understand. As long as we don't initiate aggression against others, if they strike first, we absolutely won't back down. Do you understand?"
"We need to occupy the moral high ground."
Caesar knew that human conscience always existed. If he forcefully eliminated other groups and constantly absorbed their members into the valley, Yellowstone would inevitably transform into something like the Saviors—ruling subordinates through violence and fear.
And his people would gradually begin torturing others, using the enemy's fear to fill their own empty hearts, slowly mutating into brainless psychopaths.
The Saviors were like that. Even though Negan had such strong control over his subordinates, they were generally perverts. He prohibited rape but didn't prohibit torture killing, and they liked taking photographs to record it.
Torture competitions between each other were common occurrences. They'd already crossed beyond human boundaries.
So to wage war or employ violence required a justifiable reason.
Only then would Yellowstone's people know their actions had meaning and faith.
After saying all this, Merle nodded and left first.
His target today was a department store on a street, different from the previous one—this one was closer to downtown.
The objective was winter clothing and food.
Food was the eternal theme of the apocalypse.
Andrea and Carol followed Caesar's direct unit, entering Atlanta from another direction.
As they walked, Caesar said to them both, "Our mission today is walkers."
"Walkers?" Andrea didn't understand Caesar's meaning and scratched her head.
Carol's eyes flickered as she said softly, "Dr. Jenner's request?"
Caesar looked at Carol with surprise and nodded. "That's right. The experimental samples Dr. Jenner took from the CDC before have been mostly consumed. We need to prepare more for him."
"I understand." Carol nodded.
The orders for all the other departure squads were winter supplies plus food. Only Caesar's squad had different orders.
Caesar glanced at Andrea. "However, Dr. Jenner's requirements are more demanding—he needs walkers in the process of turning."
"In the process of turning?" Andrea's mind worked as she raised one finger. "Hey, why don't we just find a living person and let a walker take a bite?"
You're quite the clever little thing.
Caesar's mouth corners lifted as he said lightly, "You guessed right."
"So our target is hunting... living people."
"Living people?" Andrea's lip line compressed into a straight line, her face paling several shades.
Carol's expression showed no change—not even her eyes shifted, as if she wasn't surprised at all.
Andrea took a moment to recover, then noticed that none of the surrounding combat members said anything. They just walked forward with their heads down, as if they had no objection to Caesar's approach.
She glanced at Caesar ahead, then moved a few steps toward Carol and said quietly, "We're about to go kill people? This seems..."
Andrea considered her word choice carefully. "Not quite right?"
Carol's lips were somewhat thin. When they lifted, her eye corners curved downward—her smile looked very gentle. "You don't really think we're just going to randomly find someone to kill, do you?"
Andrea looked at Carol with an expression that said, "Aren't we?"
Carol's face twitched with helplessness. "Have you ever seen Caesar attack innocent people?"
"How could there not be?" Andrea immediately rebutted, her voice unavoidably louder. She glanced guiltily at Caesar and discovered he hadn't turned around.
Looking back at Carol, her mind continuously filtered through all of Caesar's actions.
Thinking about it, Andrea realized Caesar really hadn't killed innocent people.
Just watching Andrea's expression, Carol could guess what she was thinking. She said gently, "When Caesar brings us to capture someone, he won't catch any innocent people."
"You don't need to have any psychological burden."
After all, Andrea had never killed anyone. Thinking that if they took action later and the target was someone utterly wicked, her resistance to killing instantly dropped to zero.
Andrea had strong adaptability, and her marksmanship was improving rapidly too.
Caesar's mouth corner bent imperceptibly.