Chapter Fifty-One: United Departure and Stern Reprimand

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“You mean to say that Commander Bai’s unit was nearly wiped out?”

“Yes... more than two hundred men managed to escape and return, trickling in one after another.”

“What happened?”

Yang Wentian then recounted what he knew. After Zhang Xiong captured those prisoners, he sensed something was wrong; he sent out more scouts, but they uncovered nothing useful and detected no enemy ambushes. According to scouts from Bai Erjin’s unit, they spotted a group of dozens ahead in a village along their route, so Commander Bai led his men there. Soon after, word of the defeat arrived—he himself had only just learned of it.

Zhou Suyan walked over and refilled their teacups.

Since that negotiation, she had become much more agreeable—her enthusiasm and manner in service had both improved immensely. Whatever the reason, Wang Luo found himself quite satisfied with the enhanced quality of his life.

“The other units haven’t encountered anything like this? Have the Han forces at the ferry made a move?”

“No, the enemy must be contractors. According to the soldiers who returned, a red rain began to fall from the sky. Many of their comrades fainted. The enemy seized the opportunity to attack; those who remained standing tried to form up and fight, but the enemy never engaged at close range. Their distant attacks were unstoppable—even shields and armor couldn’t protect against them. Many died. Commander Bai fell during that assault.”

“Sounds like gunfire. But here, firearms are weak...”

“Yes,” Yang Wentian looked at Wang Luo. “That’s likely the reason the Wuzhou team is so formidable. They must have skills or items that negate scenario restrictions, allowing heavy machine guns to unleash their true power in this era!”

“Hm.” Wang Luo grunted in response.

“This puts us in a difficult position,” Yang Wentian sighed. “If we can’t strengthen ourselves before Han reinforcements arrive, we’ll be no match for them. Sending out small squads only leads to their destruction...”

“You’re overthinking this,” Wang Luo cut him off. “Losing a battle is regrettable, losing a few hundred men unfortunate. But whether it’s red rain or heavy machine guns, skill or item, whatever they use comes at a cost.”

“If they were truly that powerful, able to use it endlessly and at will, don’t you think they’d have come here by now? If they could mow us down with machine guns, could we resist? Their restraint proves the price outweighs the gain!”

“Do they hope to intimidate me with this? Nonsense. It’s just a commander, just a few hundred men. Dead is dead. If you’re afraid of sacrifice, don’t talk about revolution.”

“We continue as planned. No need for full battle gear—the Han forces nearby are not a threat. Train the new recruits for three days, then mix them with the veterans and send them straight out on missions! Occupy this region as quickly as possible, distribute land, recruit more soldiers, and spread our ideals.”

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“Make sure your scouts do their job. At the first sign of them, have our troops proceed with caution, maneuver carefully, and stay vigilant.” Seeing Yang Wentian still hesitant, he added, “What’s there to fear? Leave the defense to Old Zhou, I’ll lead the troops myself.”

----

“You’re going out personally? It’s dangerous right now. Wouldn’t it be better to wait and see... If you wish, I can negotiate with them.”

“It’s just as dangerous for you as it is for me.” Sitting in his carriage, face stern, Wang Luo faced the earnest Charles, who had come to dissuade him. “Old Zhou, while I’m away, Charles is forbidden to leave his tent, all his mission contributions are frozen, and he is to be watched at all times. If any of our units walk into an ambush like Bai Erjin’s, kill him.”

“Understood.” Zhou Yingxiong glanced at the shocked Charles, then at the members of the Shadow Team and the surrendered former Han camp, each with a different expression, and nodded.

“But—” Charles looked both aggrieved and bewildered, innocence painted across his face. “You don’t trust me?”

“Of course not. Trust is out of the question.” Wang Luo took a document from a soldier, glanced over it, signed, and handed it back. “We barely know each other. Let’s not talk about trust.”

“If you can’t explain Wuzhou’s skills, I understand, and I won’t press you—as long as nothing goes wrong. You have your own schemes—I understand. If all goes well, I won’t interfere. But if things go south, there’s nothing I can do.”

“This is a battlefield; no one has time to play with evidence or reason with you. If you’re innocent, pray the enemy doesn’t get our information—or pray they lose. If you think you can profit at our expense, I suggest you abandon that notion... while you’re still alive.”

With these words, the carriage rolled on. Wang Luo’s direct subordinates began to follow, leaving behind Charles—looking utterly wronged—Zhou Yingxiong, grim-faced, and the other officers.

This time, except for Zhou Yingxiong’s unit and the old, weak, sick, and wounded, the entire revolutionary army set out. As per Wang Luo’s orders, the units with more new recruits patrolled nearby, serving as training exercises; the bulk of the troops swept through nearby villages and towns, clearing out remaining Han forces, distributing land, recruiting, and training.

Inside the carriage, Zhou Suyan picked up a pear and peeled it. When she was done, she placed it by Wang Luo’s side.

Yang Wentian, seeing this, smiled and changed the subject. “Do you really suspect him?”

“No, but a warning is always necessary. For someone who’s betrayed before, it’s easier to do so again. After all, he has no reason to be loyal to us.” Wang Luo ignored the pear, writing something on the small table.

“In any case, if he’s a traitor, a warning will make him cautious; if not, there’s no harm in being strict. Severity and leniency must be balanced, so they don’t mistake my goodwill for weakness.”

“Will this plan work?”

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“Hard to say. As always, it’s built on the enemy’s greed.”

“So the odds are good... How many new recruits do you plan to muster?”

“As many as possible.” Wang Luo crumpled the sheet before him and tossed it aside. “To me, the more the army, the better; the more soldiers, the better.”

----

“Have you heard? The Yellow Turban Army has sent out several more units.”

Inside the mobile team space, a man in black and a slightly overweight young man—Red Lightning and Dart Squire—sat together drinking tea.

“Let them come,” Dart replied. “Take out a few more units, and they’ll be terrified.”

“It’s not that simple.” Red Lightning downed his tea in one gulp. “That skill consumes a lot of universal points.”

“Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone else use universal points to activate skills,” said Dart. “The captain seems to be the only one who can.”

“True.” Red Lightning’s eyes flickered. “Just like last time, we’ve already got the march route map.”

“Was it Charles who gave it to you? He’s undercover now? Using those hundreds of Han soldiers as a price?”

“Who knows! Oh, the captain knows, too.”

“If he is, then Gru is finished. Gru’s been gloomy lately, didn’t even join the last battle.”

“Nor has he visited the captain’s quarters. But what does it matter to us? The captain will tire of him soon enough, anyway.”