Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 149 Wopeng Street

"Vasha! Where are you?" Pierre ran through the street, shouting anxiously, "Vasha!"

The narrow streets are lined with low, simple shacks, many of which don't even have doors, with only a tattered cloth to block passersby's view into the houses.

The road was narrow and crowded, and Pierre's shouts were drowned out by the cries of the street vendors.

"Do you want to buy cigarettes, sir?" A dirty-looking boy followed closely behind Pierre. "Want to buy some? I have some very good stuff. Dry tobacco? Chewing tobacco?"

“I’m not buying it!” Pierre replied curtly.

The child, undeterred, persisted, asking, "What about the alcohol, sir? Ale? Beer? I also have red wine. Just tell me what you want to drink..."

Pierre ignored the children, striding through the streets, shouting, and roughly shoving aside the slow-moving civilians.

An innocent pedestrian was pushed so hard he almost fell over. Just as he was about to curse, he inadvertently caught a glimpse of the other person's distinctive bangs, braid, and Dussac knife at his waist.

So he swallowed the profanity that was on the tip of his tongue, and instead let it fester into a vicious curse: "Damn Tatars!"

……

Since Marshal Ned built the Twin Bridges Camp thirty-one years ago, it has been the core distribution center for military supplies in the Republic of Palatour in every war with the Hed tribes.

Today's "Wopeng Street" between the city wall and the military camp was originally a slum in Shuangqiao City thirty years ago.

Where there are people, there is demand. With the completion and operation of Shuangqiao Daying, all sorts of people, including vendors, prostitutes, brokers, and black market merchants, flocked to this cramped, dirty, and smelly neighborhood.

Some people made a living by providing services to the men in the military camp, while others waited outside the camp to sniff out opportunities to make a fortune.

The jingling silver coins were distributed by the logistics officer to the soldiers and laborers, and eventually ended up in the pockets of the peddlers and laborers in the shack streets.

Invisible veins connect Shuangqiao Daying and Wopeng Street, and Wopeng Street exhibits a morbid prosperity nourished by money and blood and sweat.

……

Many soldiers and laborers spent more time in the slums than in the barracks, but Pierre rarely came to the slums.

Walking down the noisy street, Pierre was completely lost. He had no idea which shack Vahika and the others were in, and calling their names along the street was useless.

Left with no other option, Pierre began to inspect each shack one by one:
I lifted a curtain and saw a group of shirtless men gambling; I didn't recognize them.

He lifted another curtain and saw several laborers plucking feathers from a hen; this was not the place.

Lifting another curtain, a pair of hairy legs were busy on a pair of white legs, but neither the person on top nor the person below was Vasika...

Pierre walked quickly and hurriedly, causing a commotion along the way, and the children behind him had to run to keep up with him.

But the dirty child was like a piece of chewing gum, impossible to shake off; he kept asking:

"What about women? Sir, do you want women? I know every woman on the street, whether they're sick or not. Free introductions, no service fees. Or, sir, would you like to play a few rounds? I know a good bookie, they have all the games!"

It's both ridiculous and pathetic that a child under ten years old keeps talking about "women," "cigarettes," "alcohol," and "gambling."

But Pierre completely ignored him, knowing full well that if he responded even slightly, the little bastard would only become more brazen.

The kids on Wopeng Street have sharp eyes; they can tell at a glance who isn't a regular here.

So every time Pierre came to Rue Woken, he was harassed and annoyed in every way.

Moreover, these kids running around in the streets aren't exactly honest either. Don't be fooled by their calls of "Officer, Officer!" They can steal a soldier's underwear in the blink of an eye if you're not careful.

After losing his purse once, Pierre always carried a saber whenever he went to Rue d'Isle.

Seeing that Dussac in front of him was ignoring him, the child who had been following Pierre all the way had a sudden glint in his eye.

He then asked mysteriously, "Sir, do you need money? If you don't want to buy anything, you can sell it. Boots, planks, gunpowder, lead bullets, muskets, armor—if you're willing to sell, we won't hesitate to buy, and the price is guaranteed to be fair. If you don't have any goods, you can sell information..."

Pierre, already restless, finally lost his temper. He turned around, drew his saber, and roared, "I'm not buying anything! I'm not selling anything! If you dare to mess with me again, I'll chop you to death!"

The child was stunned for a moment, then took off running.

But after running only a few steps, he stopped, pointed at Pierre's nose, and cursed: "You damned Tartar! You maggot-infested Dussac! You devil and donkey bastard! Your life isn't even worth as much as my ball! When you go to the battlefield and become a wandering ghost, let crows peck at your eyes! Let wild dogs eat your balls! Let the devil drag you to hell to be a [lustful] child!"

After spewing profanities, the child made a face, turned around, and disappeared into the crowd.

"You little bastard, don't run away!" Pierre was furious, his face flushed, and he chased after him.

But he could no longer catch up and could only watch helplessly as the child disappeared into the dark alleys of Wopeng Street.

Pierre, in a fit of impotent rage, roared to the sky, drawing the attention of passersby and street vendors.

"What's going on?" Vashika ran out of a shack without even fastening his belt, pulling up his pants.

"Hurry back to camp with me!" Pierre, who had finally found the man, didn't have time to be angry. He grabbed Vasya's arm and said urgently, "A high-ranking officer has arrived! The lieutenant wants everyone to assemble."

Vasika panicked: "What? Damn it! Where's my belt?"

"Where are Toman, Guoquan, and the others?"

"Hey! They're not with me!" Vahika slapped his thigh. "I'll go find them with you."

“Let’s go!” Pierre lifted his leg to leave, but was stopped by the centurion.

“Pierre, did you bring any money?” Vahika asked hesitantly. “I haven’t paid yet.” Pierre sighed helplessly and reached for his belt.

After fumbling around for a bit, his expression suddenly changed: "My wallet! That damned little bastard! He stole my wallet again!"

The area below the belt where my wallet should be hanging is now empty.

The leather cord holding the wallet in place had been cut by a sharp blade.

……

After finding the other three in the shack street, Vahika and Pierre hurried back to the camp.

But it was too late. Lieutenant Colonel Jessica had already returned from headquarters with three second lieutenants, and the three hundred-man squads stood in neat rows in the open space.

Sneaking in was impossible, so Vahika and his companions had no choice but to bite the bullet and approach.

"Ten lashes each," the one-eyed lieutenant colonel coldly handed down the sentence, without even asking where they had gone. "Form ranks."

The five Dusaks breathed a sigh of relief and quickly returned to the queue.

To be honest, rather than being humiliated in public, the men would rather be whipped a few times; that would be much more comfortable.

Later, other militiamen returned one after another, and Lieutenant Colonel Jessica treated them all the same, giving them ten lashes each.

It took nearly two and a half hours for the three teams of 100 men to assemble, and the lieutenant colonel also led everyone to stand on the small parade ground for two and a half hours.

With everyone present, the next thing that should have been the new commander's address was to give a speech, but John Jessica skipped all of that.

"Execute them before sunset." The lieutenant colonel looked at his three centurions with his one eye: "You three will do it yourselves and take charge of your own men. If there are any tenth-rank officers, give them five lashes and replace them."

He then disbanded the three 100-man squads.

Even after receiving the order to disband, the team remained standing still, not a single person moving. Everyone felt that something was missing, and they were unsure whether they should leave.

The militiamen were baffled, but the three lieutenants were already used to their new superior's style.

……

It's worth noting that the first thing the one-eyed colonel said to the three of them after they met was, "How did you three end up commanding the militia?"

"What do you mean? Are you asking a question you already know the answer to?" Upon hearing this, Winters' mind raced with thoughts: "A show of force? A provocation? Trying to deliberately provoke us?"

The awkward situation of the second lieutenant from Venetta in Palatour was known to all the "orthodox" officers.

[Note: "Orthodox" refers to officers who graduated from the Army Officer Academy, also known as the "academic" or "formal" type. This is different from army officers who came from temporary officer training programs or were promoted on the front lines, as the latter two rarely rose to the rank of field officer.]
Regardless, there was still a sense of camaraderie among alumni, so while the Palatine Army would never compromise in principle, most of its seniors still took good care of Winters and his ilk.

To be fair, the position of resident magistrate in newly reclaimed lands was actually quite comfortable and pleasant. They wielded considerable power and faced few constraints, much like local noble lords.

For a non-professional officer, being given a position as a garrison commander to retire in is already considered a generous treatment; not making the Venettas shovel horse manure like Lieutenant Mason is already showing leniency.

In the vast land of galloping horses, the seniors Winters encountered would pat him on the shoulder and kindly comfort him, saying, "Bear with it, hang in there, and you can go home once things are resolved."

"How did you end up commanding militia?"

This is the first time I've ever been confronted with such words to my face, and slapped in the face without any politeness.

The three lieutenants exchanged glances, but none of them answered.

There was no need for words. Seeing Andrei's flaring nostrils and twitching cheeks, Winters knew that Andrei was furious and only one step away from exploding on the spot.

Winters nudged Andrei’s shoulder almost imperceptibly.

The words that were about to spill out, "This is fucking obvious, are you going to blame us for not being capable enough?" were swallowed back down Andrei's throat.

But at this moment, the lieutenant colonel asked again: "Why aren't you saying anything? You guys are all graduates of the Army Academy, how did you end up having to compete for jobs with officers from the miscellaneous academies?"

[Note: "Miscellaneous Academy Officers" is the opposite of "Army Academy Officers," referring to career officers who are not graduates of the Army Officer Academy.]
Winters had only one thought: It's over, Andrei is going to explode.

Lieutenant Montagne's thoughts instantly drifted to "being Andrei's duel assistant" and even further afield.

A calm, unhurried voice echoed in the room: "Serving the country knows no distinction of rank. It's just that you, Lieutenant Colonel, have also been reduced to commanding us, haven't you?"

Andrei was taken aback, and Winters was startled.

Surprisingly, it was Bard, the most mild-mannered of the three, who was the first to speak up and retort.

Lieutenant Colonel Jessica was stung, but he wasn't angry.

"It's not a fall from grace, it's a promotion for me." He smiled slightly and said nonchalantly, "I'm in a worse situation than you guys. I just came home from an overseas military region."

Though late, it has arrived; it's not a pigeon, just a cooing sound.

Thank you to all the readers who voted for the book before;

Thank you to readers Sacred Song, 20180615100346839, Social Justice Old Wang, and Captainjavk for the monthly tickets.

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(End of this chapter)