The game has become a real alternate world-Chapter 831 - 513: The Shadow That Always Exists

Order Alliance Defense Zone.

Established as an occupied area after the United Army cleared out the rats and built an exclusion zone.

Currently, it's the core area for resisting the rat invasion on the Lebia Continent.

Heavy snow and howling cold winds are ravaging this region, bringing both harsh cold and a brief peace.

In a shabby house, cold wind seeps through the damaged parts of the building.

"Mom, I'm hungry." Two children sit on the bed, trembling while wrapped in thin blankets.

Cold has become the norm, while hunger continues to erode their bodies.

The mother, wearing ragged clothes, clearly has several layers of tattered, thin garments to fend off the cold.

"Mommy, mommy will go out and look for something, stay here in the room, okay?"

After speaking, she shakily pushes the door and leaves.

The howling wind outside makes her shiver uncontrollably.

"Dong, dong."

The sound of a bell comes from afar.

Upon hearing it, the mother's eyes brighten, and she drags her weary body, forcing herself to run.

She is not alone; when the sound rings out, ragged civilians emerge everywhere.

They gather at the square where the bell sounds.

A soup kitchen has already been set up.

Several soldiers are maintaining order nearby, and by the time the mother arrives, a long line has already formed.

"Everyone line up!"

"Line up, don't you hear me?"

"Get lost, can't you understand human speech?"

Some soldiers knock down civilians who try to squeeze to the front amid the chaos.

With yelling and violence, the famished civilians finally adhere to order.

When the mother arrives, she can only join the back of the long queue, full of worry.

"Being able to eat free food at this time, you should all be grateful to Lord Losak, praise his benevolence properly."

A corpulent official clad in thick attire says loudly nearby.

Some civilians comply, bending down while weakly praising him.

"These fat pigs, the food they have at a banquet could feed us for who knows how long," a frail man mutters resentfully.

However, he dare not speak loudly.

"Appreciate it properly, you wretched civilians, without those noble gentlemen you would have been eaten by rats long ago."

The corpulent official tightens his clothes, huddling at the side of the soup kitchen to avoid the wind and snow.

"It's so damn cold and I still have to watch these refugees eat pig food, damn it." He grumbles while speaking.

"Don't be upset, my lord, here's some tea." A nearby soldier swiftly offers, handing over a steaming pot of tea.

Clearly, the quantity of free food is not ample; the queue isn't even halfway through before the food runs out.

"My lord, should we bring more over?" The nearby Soldier Captain asks obsequiously, slightly bent over.

The official glares at him and, standing up, kicks him to the ground.

"You idiot, do you think this food was blown in by the wind? Huh? That's it, bad luck for those who didn't get any, come back next time."

Despite being kicked to the ground, the Soldier Captain quickly gets up without anger.

"You're right, my lord, giving more doesn't show your benevolence."

Unhappy with these words, the official curls his lips: "Is this food given by me? Do I have the qualification? Begging me is useless."

"I know what you're thinking, these are orders from Lord Losak, are you trying to defy them?"

The official glares at him while speaking.

Hearing this, the Soldier Captain's face shifts uncomfortably, unable to resist speaking: "But this food, it's all..."

"Shut up! Is that for you to say?"

The official swiftly stops him, even angrily kicking him again.

By now, the civilians who missed the porridge have started to riot.

"We've waited so long!"

"I want some too, bring more over!"

"Please, sirs, my children are starving to death."

Curses and pleas rise and fall.

This agitates the official more, prompting him to run over and curse loudly: "You damn wretches, getting even a bit of free food is already a gift from the lords, and you dare to force them here.

Without the lords, you'd be long gone in the bellies of those rats, disperse!"

The mother can't endure further, kneeling to the ground.

"Please, sir, my children haven't eaten for two days... I, my husband is a soldier, he joined the United Army.

For my husband's sake, please show mercy..."

Upon hearing this, the official runs over but delivers a kick instead.

The already frail mother is kicked into the snow, seemingly unable to rise.

"Wretched woman, dare to deceive us, seeking pity, I really ought to teach you rude wretches a lesson, men!"

Yet no one responds.

The surroundings have become quiet without warning.

At this point, the official looks up at the crowd, noticing a group that appeared somewhere unknowingly.

These are figures in black robes with special patterns on them.

Seeing the distinct patterns, the official's face turns ashen.

"Night, Night Watcher?"

The surrounding civilians are unaware of what a Night Watcher is, merely feeling a certain awe from their sudden appearance and the aura radiating from them.

Cold sweat constantly drips from the official's face; outdoors in this chilly winter, he only feels both freezing and burning.

He wipes the sweat from his forehead: "Sirs, may I ask..."

"We are Judges among the Night Watchers; following the Leader's orders, we inspect the recovery of livelihood in each city."

Though somewhat bewildered, the official knows calamity looms; his mouth trembles, unable to utter a word.

The leading Night Watcher Judge surveys the surroundings, nearly grasping the city's problems.

"I inquire, Night Watchers should have distributed sufficient food to each gathering point, enough for every city's each person no longer troubled by hunger.

So, what's going on with these refugees?"

The Judge's voice is calm, yet the ferocity within makes nearby soldiers uncomfortable.

"What? Is there really enough food?" Some astute refugees grasp the implication, venturing to ask.

"What does it mean? Are they possibly stealing..."

"These damn fat pigs! They're taking our food away!"

"Sir, please, we're starving to death!"

Refugees' minds move quickly now, kneeling in unison.

The Judge, observing this, impassively waves a hand.