Industrial Revolution of the Mage Lords

Chapter 132 New Police Story

The long winter that lasted for four full months finally came to an end after the last thin layer of snow melted.

This also means that the northern wilderness is about to usher in the spring when all things revive, and the new year's sowing and plowing can begin on the fertile land.

Most of the native people of the wilderness do not have the habit of celebrating the New Year. For them, the transition from winter to spring is often a life-and-death moment when they cannot get enough food. Many frail old and young people cannot survive until the land thaws and they can dig up cassava to fill their stomachs.

The average life expectancy of these human refugees and orc slaves living at the bottom of the food chain in the wilderness is less than 40 years old, which is even lower than that of the lowest landless farmhands living in the warm south.

This was also the first winter in Max's life where he had enough food, warm clothes, and a stable home. Along the residential streets, the snowmen built by children had melted to the point where only the bases remained. Still, many children scooped up the muddy remnants of snow, rolled them into balls, and tossed them around, filling the streets with laughter and playfulness early in the morning.

For adults like Max, melted snow is very annoying. It will make cotton shoes damp and moldy, and it will soak into the inside and freeze the entire soles of the feet.

In the past, most refugees would probably be huddled in the earthen caves they had dug before winter, shivering in tattered animal skins, and always worried that the accumulated snow would crush the caves and bury them alive.

As Max recalled the past, he subconsciously stomped his feet to shake off the mud on his shiny leather boots. Fortunately, he was wearing the official leather boots, otherwise the daily routine patrol mission alone would have caused him a lot of trouble.

In the winter in the Pioneer Territory, people clear the snow on the streets every day, sweeping it to both sides of the street with large brooms made of branches and wooden poles. This is a long-term temporary job posted by the municipal center, with daily salary. Even the elderly with a little more flexible hands and feet can barely cope with it and get a hot meal.

The closer you get to the municipal district and factory area, the more pedestrians there are on the street. Most of them are wearing thick cotton or leather jackets, and are rushing to their jobs.

Max liked this lively scene very much, and even his patrol steps became lighter. He quickly completed the first round of patrols of the day according to the established route.

Next, he needs to go to the refugee shelter set up by the City Hall at the north gate of the territory's city wall to assist the municipal staff who stay there every day to maintain basic order at the city gate.

When Max arrived at the north gate, more than a hundred people had gathered at the city gate. Amid the shouts of armed soldiers, they lined up in several long, crooked rows and slowly approached the refugee shelter with wooden sheds for the first round of identity checks and information registration.

"Report! Max Anton, a trainee police officer from the National Police Department, is here to assist with the work."

A young officer, his throat hoarse from shouting through a tin horn, waved at him and pointed to the shelter closest to the city gate, signaling him to go and help.

"You are responsible for maintaining order in the team, and then helping the doctors at the medical center distribute anti-epidemic drugs to them one by one. You must watch them drink it personally, and never be negligent or lazy..." The official in charge of registering the information of refugees was also very busy, and quickly called Max, a new force, to join his work team.

"Roger that!"

Max thought this job sounded not difficult at all, just like when he first came to the territory and the soldiers held guns and directed them to line up to receive oatmeal.

He walked to the checkpoint and started shouting loudly, imitating the officer's behavior. At the same time, he pulled out the baton at his waist and waved it - trainee police officers were not allowed to carry guns, and their only weapon was this very smoothly polished wooden baton in their hands.

Max felt that its power might be even less than his own light kick, and the damage it caused would be greater.

"Name? Where are you from? Do you have any survival skills?"

Every refugee in the queue will be questioned by the staff of the municipal center and the information will be recorded, but they will basically not be asked whether they can read or not unless the other party brings it up, because the illiteracy rate of the people in the wilderness is close to 100%.

Max had even seen so many orcs he couldn't even count them. This was only the first round of internment review. After they entered the temporary refugee shelter near the city wall, there would be further scrutiny and verification. It was said that among the defense forces, there was a team with rich interrogation experience who was specifically responsible for this task.

"My name is Hook, a native of the wilderness. Uh... I'm good at... farming. I can't read."

The official in charge of registering information was stunned for a moment, then raised his head and repeated, "Farming?" After seeing the other party nod, he quickly circled the form and said, "Okay, you've passed. Go gather over there and wait..."

Max happened to be standing nearby and overheard this brief conversation. He couldn't help but look at the man in the animal skin cloak and found that his animal skin cloak looked very new and had no mold or holes.

It looks like it was just bought from a clothing store in a convenience store...

"Wait!" He spoke subconsciously and stopped the man who was about to leave.

"What...what happened?"

Max stared at the man's slightly flickering eyes and asked in a deep voice, "A wastelander? Can you farm? Which evil orc tribe are you a serf under?"

The municipal official in charge of registration looked up in confusion. "They don't need to ask about these things during the review process, right? As long as they can farm, it doesn't matter which tribe they belong to..."

Max shook his head and pressed on, "After spring, when should cassava tubers be planted? And how long do they need to grow before they can be harvested?"

The other party hesitated for a moment and still did not answer.

Max had already drawn his baton and was pressing it against the man's body. "You're a farmer from the wilderness, yet you're wearing such a fine reindeer hide cloak. You don't look like you've suffered at all from the long journey you've taken."

He grabbed the man's hand and squeezed the wrist joint hard, forcing him to loosen his fist and show his palm.

"People in the wilderness don't get frostbite all over their hands. We dig for food in the snowy land all year round and have long been accustomed to this temperature!"

The municipal officials now sensed something was amiss and shouted to the soldiers nearby to cooperate with Max to pin the man to the ground.

The other party suddenly gritted his teeth, pulled his hand back, turned around and shouted to the people at the back of the team: "Run!"

Max swung his baton violently and hit the man's back hard, knocking him down with a bang. Then he raised his mechanical prosthetic leg and stepped on him. No matter how hard the man struggled, it was of no use.

Seeing this, the four or five refugees at the end of the team immediately ran towards the city gate without looking back. Several soldiers pointed their guns and ordered them to stop, but they turned a deaf ear to them.

Then the soldiers had no choice but to shoot, hitting their legs and quickly knocking several people to the ground. The power of the magic gun was too great, and each of these people had one leg broken directly. The broken limbs and blood splattered all over the ground, scaring the nearby refugees into screaming.

The scene suddenly became chaotic.

(End of this chapter)