Arknights' Lock of Heaven

So the logistics department worked overtime to prepare food. Because of the urgency, they could only make rice soup. Being able to drink a bowl of hot potato and beef soup rice on a cold, snowy night was already a great blessing for these infected people.

Of course, each person's portion is limited, since they haven't had a full meal in a long time and shouldn't eat too much. Each person just needs a large bowl of soup and a small bowl of rice to fill their stomachs.

The rest can be left to the medical department.

As for the medical department... they were the busiest, having to examine all the infected who arrived, classify them into mild and severe cases, and also provide emergency treatment to the young and strong men standing at the front of the line holding Originium crystals to intimidate the enemy... They were truly busy day and night.

There weren't enough people to begin with, and most of the operators who could help out had to go into the city with the Sarkaz mercenaries to find a few infected people. In the end, the medical department had no choice but to grit their teeth and bring over all the infected people from Victor's village to work.

After all, those infected people are in relatively good condition. Even if they don't understand medical technology, those with the strength can help carry stretchers, and those without the strength can lead the newly infected people to their assigned cabins, explaining life on the ship to them through their own experiences, which would help calm them down.

“Go and join the queue,” Frostnova said helplessly, looking at Priestley behind her.

There was nothing we could do. We thought we could find out the approximate size and organization of the local infected population from the local infected individuals themselves, but who would have thought that their organization would be so loose?

Later, I learned that most of these infected people were not locals. Many of them had either been driven to the snowfield by the Ursus army and failed to find the guerrillas, but instead found this frontline city. Others were panicked by the large-scale search in their hometowns and fled here.

Previously, Prostov's search policy wasn't very strict. After all, they were close to the front lines, and the battle reports showed that the Ursus army was in such a sorry state. Naturally, they didn't dare to treat the infected too harshly, for fear that the Patriots would attack.

But then an inspector was parachuted in, who single-handedly set up the infected patrol team and began a large-scale crackdown.

The infected, who could have survived before, suddenly found themselves in dire straits, which is why they made this desperate move tonight.

Before this, Prostov did have infected leaders, but they had all been captured by the picket line during a betrayal and their whereabouts remained unknown.

It was precisely because of the prior organization that Priestley was able to spread the news to all the infected people in the city so quickly after receiving it.

After hearing Frostnova's words, Priestley opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.

"What's wrong? Is there anything else?" Froststar noticed his unusual behavior.

“Perhaps my request is a bit presumptuous,” Priestley gritted his teeth, “The pickets… just a week ago, they arrested many of our compatriots based on information from a traitor, including those capable men you are looking for, who should have led us.”

"If it's possible... I'd like to ask..."

"Oh, I see," Frostnova said thoughtfully. "Where is that disciplinary squad's base located?"

“I know! It’s on Frey Street in District 31,” Priestley said excitedly. “I’ve observed that area and considered rescuing them, but unfortunately, I didn’t have the ability.”

Hearing this, Froststar nodded and said, "Then you'll have to come with me first."

"my pleasure!"

"W!" Upon hearing this, Frostnova turned and shouted, "Send me two mercenary teams. We need to leave a lasting impression on the people of this city!"

"What?" W turned around upon hearing this. "You wouldn't be thinking of..."

"It's just killing some black dogs," Froststar said calmly. "I've killed many more in the snowfields before."

“Oh, alright then,” W waved his hand, “I’ll have someone assist you, but you need to be quick, we’re leaving in four hours.”

“I know,” Frostnova nodded slightly, then turned to Priestley behind her. “Let’s go, take us to get some interest first.”

"I haven't done this kind of thing in a long time."

-

The whole city was in a panic.

In this relatively remote and underdeveloped small town, not every household can afford to install a landline telephone.

However, quite a few people can afford it; most of them are public officials or businessmen with a certain social status.

It is precisely because of the city's remoteness and backwardness that the local culture is very strong. Well, local culture, perhaps that's not the right name, but there's not much else to describe it.

Most of the neighbors in the neighborhood are acquaintances, unlike in developed big cities where neighbors are just neighbors in the literal sense, and most people don't even know the surname of the person across the street.

The city has a strong sense of community and the phenomenon of people sticking together is very common.

After what happened tonight, the people in the city naturally banded together, forming groups of all sizes. They mostly used buildings or streets as their base, gathered together with weapons, blocked the entrances with large pieces of furniture, and sealed the doors and windows of the lower floors.

Barricades were formed.

When the chaos caused by the infected began, the residents of this small town, which borders the infected settlement in the snowfield, had imagined such a scene, and some even volunteered to distribute leaflets on how to establish defenses by street to protect their families.

The Chernobog incident terrified many people in Ursus. The photos and reports in the newspapers, and the tearful accusations of the survivors, were all stirring up the emotions of the Prostov people.

After all, they were just unlucky to be so close to the war zone.

The newspaper also stated that if those infected were starving and freezing on the snowfields due to the army's lockdown policy, their first goal in order to survive would be the nearest city, which is us.

And what does our city have? Only three thousand city garrison troops, some of whom are newly recruited soldiers, and a poorly equipped police station. Who could have imagined that this small city in the heart of Ursus would one day face a military onslaught? And can these men protect us from a rebel army that has deterred hundreds of thousands of troops from advancing?

Obviously, no.

Therefore, we must protect ourselves.

Those who could have run away have already done so. Those who remain are either unwilling to give up their power and influence in the city or simply unable to escape.

Where can we run to?

Just as predicted on those flyers, if it weren't for the Orville, the infected would definitely have targeted this city.

It was right on the edge of the war zone, and right on the side of insufficient defense...

The dukes would rather station hundreds of thousands of troops in the freezing cold than send some to defend the city. Isn't their purpose clear enough?

This city was the planned sacrifice to the great rebellion of the infected.

Once the ravenous infected attack Prostov, who can control their bloodlust? The Patriots?

He's no good, otherwise Chernobog wouldn't be the way he is.

Once the deliberately left opening in Prostov is opened, the infected can slowly spread to most of Ursus through this mobile city.

But the arrival of the Orville disrupted all their plans.

Ordinary people don't know these things, but the blood of struggle flows in the veins of Ursus people.

In order to protect their homes, they reacted very quickly. Perhaps frightened by the sensationalized depictions of Chernobog in the newspapers, they rallied together very quickly. After discovering that the city government and the city defense forces were unreliable, they pushed furniture out of the windows, used piles of furniture and debris to block narrow street entrances, sealed off the doors and windows of lower floors, and distributed various weapons...

At this moment, barricades were erected one by one in narrow streets and alleys, and countless residents stared out of fear or anger at the fully armed Sarkaz mercenaries and ragged infected on the main streets.

Decades ago, the city's rulers were loyal supporters of the late emperor, which led many of the city's residents to enthusiastically join the army.

After the death of the late emperor, power at the top was seized by the lackeys of the nobles, but at the bottom, there were many veterans who had participated in the Uka War, the Udon War, and even the Four Emperors War. Their political leanings were completely different from those of the nobles, which is why this city became a sacrifice.

Especially for the veterans of the Four Emperors' War, the barricade tactic was something they learned from the people of the Gallo Empire back then.

When they conquered the cities of Gaul, the Gauls used this tactic to turn the entire city into a tough nut to crack. Every building was a seed of resistance, and the casualties from such fierce street fighting even exceeded those from siege warfare.

The cost for infantry's weak artillery to breach the solid steel and concrete skyscrapers of a mobile city would be astronomical. In the narrow streets and buildings, soldiers could only fight hand-to-hand with swords, advancing inch by inch.

This forced the various commanders to temporarily abandon their attacks on the barricades, as they lacked the motivation to kill all the resisters inside.

That would undoubtedly mean killing all the Gauls.

Moreover, the cost is completely outweighed by the reward. You might spend months grinding on the barricades while others have already captured another city.

Ultimately, a strange scene unfolded in the occupied city: the occupying forces and the resistance fighters on the barricades lived in peace. The occupying forces patrolled the city's main streets but never entered the barricades' territory, while the people inside the barricades did not cause any trouble.

It wasn't until the death of the arrogant Gallic emperor, when the Gauls lost their faith and pride and finally laid down their arms and withdrew from the barricades, that Ursus and the other occupying powers were truly able to rule the land of Gaul.

Now, the surviving veterans have brought this tactic back to Ursus, and in order to protect their homeland, they have learned from the Gauls and built barricades.

Those scattered Sarkaz mercenaries and infected wouldn't approach their barricades, but would hurry to and fro on the main road.

For a moment, the atmosphere in the city became very strange.

The people inside the barricades nervously peered through the unsealed windows at the hurried shadowy figures outside.

The mercenaries and operators who came out to carry out the mission were somewhat apprehensive when they saw the high morale of the Ursus people.

The city has hundreds of thousands of people... Each person's spit could drown a thousand or eight hundred of them.

The two sides remained strangely at peace.

430 Hang them from the streetlights!

"What about those infected people you captured?"

Frostnova looked at the Infected scouts officer being pinned to the ground by the Sarkaz mercenaries and asked in a cold voice, "Where are they being held?"

"Sir...they are no longer in Prostov..."

The official said tremblingly, "According to orders from above, those infected people are to be sent to the snowfield the day after they are caught..."

The disciplinary team also thoughtfully prepared some food for them, not out of kindness, of course.

Instead, some people wanted these infected people from Prostov to go to the Patriots' camp alive so that they could portray the city's persecution of the infected.

"Not a single one left?" Frostnova frowned upon hearing this.

“Yes, not a single one was left…” the official said, trembling.

Froststar sighed and turned to look at Priestley.

"I'm afraid I'll have to break my promise."

“No, this is none of your business,” Priestley said with a wry smile, his head bowed. “Perhaps this is fate.”

"Who does 'the higher-ups' refer to?" Froststar turned back to look at the official.

“It’s Director Brad…he was transferred from above…” the official stammered in response.

Where is he now?