Chapter 665: Have We Met Before?

Chapter 665: Have We Met Somewhere Before

No sooner had he returned to the camp than Benno’s smiling face collapsed. He shot a sidelong glance at the guard beside him and tossed out a command.

“Every slave who went out of the camp to watch the commotion gets fifteen lashes.”

The guard nodded and was about to carry out the order, when something occurred to him, and he asked further.

“And what about Ms. Sistir?”

At the mention of that old woman’s name, Benno’s face darkened even more.

“Give her thirty lashes!”

Damn it all.

If he couldn’t handle the Alliance, could he at least not handle a few of them?

The memory of the onlookers’ stares still rankled, and he wished he could drag that clueless centurion over and flog him too.

But unfortunately, legion officers held higher rank, and the factions within were always united. Even if that fellow was only a centurion, without a proper reason, it wasn’t easy to lay a hand on him.

As for slaves, there were far fewer scruples.

Just then, another thought struck Benno. He reached out and grabbed the soldier who was about to leave.

“Wait.”

The guard quickly bowed.

“Sir, do you have further orders?”

Benno’s expression flickered.

“…Remember to close the door.”

The guard was taken aback, and after a long pause, nodded with a peculiar look.

“Yes, sir!”

…

After the order was given, Benno returned to his own tent.

Perhaps because the soldier had followed his instructions and tied the tent flap tightly, sitting inside, he heard neither the sound of the whip nor the wails of the servants.

Benno was still unsatisfied. The more he thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt. He had represented Triumph City on diplomatic missions to many survivor settlements, but never had he been treated with such discourtesy.

These damned barbarians, emboldened by the backing of the Corporation and the Academy, dared to show no respect for the Legion!

It seemed those idiots in the Eastward Expansion faction had been far too lenient with them!

It was worth noting that although the Legion’s two eastern expeditions had failed to advance the border by even an inch and had suffered countless losses, under the overwhelming propaganda of *Triumph City*, both campaigns were still proclaimed as glorious victories for the Legion.

Benno didn’t fully trust the *Triumph Gazette*—his daughter worked there, and after years of dealing with the propaganda department, he knew exactly how much they could spin.

Still, he had no doubt about the *Gazette*’s conclusions. No matter how stubbornly the barbarians east of the Great Wastes protested, the Legion’s victory was beyond question.

They couldn’t possibly have lost to a bunch of wastelanders. It was just that the intervention of the Corporation, the Great Rift, and the Academy had made the cost a bit higher.

That was why His Majesty the Marshal hadn’t held a triumph for those wasteful fools—there was simply nothing to boast about.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the tent, followed by the jingle of a bell hung by the flap.

Benno frowned at the silhouette at the entrance, cleared his throat, and said, “Come in.”

The flap was pulled aside.

Seeing it was Pangolin, Benno relaxed his brow slightly and leaned back in his chair.

“What is it?”

Breaking his usual taciturn demeanor, the battlefield veteran put on an indignant expression and spoke in a low, provocative tone.

“Sir, why should we bow to them? If they’re not convinced, we’ll fight them again—beat them until they are. Isn’t that simple?”

Hearing this foolish remark, Benno curled his lip.

“You roughnecks, always talking about fighting and killing. Things aren’t that easy! If a single fight could solve everything, why didn’t you solve it last year? We’re here to negotiate cooperation, not to turn them into enemies!”

Though he spoke in a scolding tone, saying it aloud actually eased his mood.

Watching the smugness hanging at the corner of Benno’s mouth, the battlefield veteran silently admired the one who had given him this bad advice—Spring.

That guy really had something.

“But… are we just going to swallow this and let them walk all over us?”

“Cooperating with the Alliance on the mutant slime issue is the Marshal’s will. Compared to that… other conflicts can wait.” Benno narrowed his eyes slightly and continued unhurriedly, “Of course, these people are getting too cocky. I’ll teach them a lesson, knock them down a peg—but not now.”

The battlefield veteran’s heart stirred, and he put on a pleased expression.

“What do you plan to do, sir?”

Benno shot him a glance.

“Don’t pry into things that don’t concern you. I have my own ideas about how to handle things. By the way, don’t repeat what I just said to anyone, especially Quik.”

Quik was his adjutant, only a chiliarch in rank, yet many in the delegation treated him with awe, even more than Ambassador Benno himself.

Though in the Legion, military officers outranked civil officials, it wasn’t to the point where a myriarch had to salute a chiliarch first.

Recalling Benno’s earlier wariness toward that adjutant, the battlefield veteran couldn’t help but ask curiously.

“Sir Benno, speaking of which… what’s the deal with Quik? Why does it feel like everyone’s afraid of him?”

“Afraid of him?” Benno curled his lip without hesitation. “Not exactly, but his background is unusual—he’s from the Praetorian Guard.”

Having never heard the term, the battlefield veteran blinked.

“Praetorian Guard?”

He only knew of the Youth Corps.

Alliance staff officer Vanus seemed to have come from there.

Not surprised by the veteran’s surprise, Benno said succinctly.

“You’ve never been to Triumph City, so it’s normal you haven’t heard of them. They usually only operate in Triumph City and never leave a step without the Marshal’s orders. In short, they are the Marshal’s eyes—that’s all you need to know.”

Though the matter of the Praetorian Guard didn’t seem to be a sensitive topic, Benno apparently had no intention of discussing it further.

His evasive attitude piqued the battlefield veteran’s curiosity. Just as he was about to try a different angle, Benno suddenly beckoned him closer and whispered.

“By the way, since you’re here, do me a favor.”

Sensing a mission trigger, the battlefield atmosphere-setter straightened his expression and said at once.

“At your command, sir!”

Benno spoke softly.

“I hear the envoy from Free State is also in Dawn City. Find out where they are… and arrange for them to come here for a talk.”

Hearing this, the battlefield veteran’s heart leaped with joy.

Good heavens.

He had just been thinking about sneaking out in the dead of night when everyone was asleep!

With Captain Bennott’s mission, it now made finding those excuses all the easier.

Having silently memorized Bennott’s instructions, Battlefield Guy nodded without hesitation and agreed.

“Yes!”

Bennott nodded in satisfaction and waved his hand.

“Go.”

Watching the Pangolin pass through the tent flap and leave the spacious tent, Bennott wore a faint, elusive smile.

Though he couldn’t personally strike at the Alliance, he could find an ally who hated the Alliance just as much to do the job for him.

Yet at that moment, neither Bennott, who thought everything was under his control, nor the turncoat who walked boldly out of the tent, noticed a pair of eyes watching them from not far away.

Quick, standing at the camp entrance, smiled faintly and turned back to his own tent…

…

After leaving the camp, Battlefield Guy didn’t immediately seek out the Free State envoy’s quarters but instead circled through the alleys.

Certain there were no pursuers, he then followed the map he’d checked on the official website and headed straight for the nearest player save point.

Every settlement under the Alliance had such a facility, accessible only to players and shelter-employed staff.

It contained not only hibernation pods for saving, but also rentable storage space and an NPC shop selling “limited equipment.”

Those items with contribution point thresholds were one of the shelter’s perks for players; here, you could even buy a set of power armor for a million silver coins.

If sold at market price, even adding a zero would be a steal, so naturally not just anyone could buy them.

Seeing Battlefield Atmosphere Group approaching, the staff on duty glanced at his arm and yawned wearily.

“…Shelter resident?”

Battlefield Guy nodded.

“ID: Battlefield Atmosphere Group. I don’t have my VM on me. Biometric identification.”

Showing no surprise at the oddly pronounced ID, the staff member deftly pulled a dusty iris scanner from the drawer.

“Look into the lens.”

Battlefield Guy leaned in, his eyes meeting the lens.

The signal light blinked twice.

Seeing six zeros displayed on the screen, the staff member, who had been annoyed by the trouble, suddenly looked astonished.

Good heavens!

Apprentice Knight!

A contribution level requiring a hundred thousand points, and every shelter resident who reached it was a hero who had risked life and limb for the Alliance countless times!

In an instant, his gaze toward Battlefield Atmosphere Group shifted from routine to deep admiration, and his earlier drowsiness vanished entirely.

“What can I get for you?”

A bit embarrassed by the fervent look, Battlefield Guy smiled and said.

“A K-10 ‘Iron Wall’ exoskeleton with full protection system. Do you have one in stock?”

“Yes! Follow me!”

Handing his post to another colleague on duty, the staff member enthusiastically led him to the nearby warehouse.

Following the staff member’s steps into the warehouse, Battlefield Guy picked a K-10 exoskeleton of the right size and put it on.

Standing before the mirror, he donned the helmet, made sure he was thoroughly covered, then paid with satisfaction and left the “Player Service Area.”

Crossing the bustling streets, he headed straight for the trading post to the north. The moment Battlefield Atmosphere Group appeared in the inn’s lobby, the players sitting near the bar fell silent.

The first to recognize him was I’m the Darkest.

The guy’s eyes widened, and he jumped off his bar stool with a clatter.

“Holy shit! Pang—”

Before the joyful shout could finish, a gust of wind swept to his lips, pressing the name back firmly.

“Holy shit! Don’t you fucking yell! I’m still on a mission!” Battlefield Guy said with a panicked look, clamping his hand over the guy’s mouth.

Debt Big Eyes, standing nearby, slapped his shoulder with a grin and winked.

“What’s the big deal? Brother Darkest was speaking Mandarin—those NPCs can’t understand it… Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?”

Confused by the remark, Battlefield Guy paused and released the struggling I’m the Darkest.

“What was I thinking?”

Debt Big Eyes shot a glance to the side.

Battlefield Guy followed his gaze and saw a girl holding a tray with both hands, standing by the bar and looking at him.

She wasn’t tall, with a delicate pale nose, and her fluffy light brown hair tied in a ponytail—she looked sweet and demure.

She didn’t seem like a player.

She looked familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he’d seen her.

Glancing at his grinning buddies, Battlefield Guy instinctively switched to the Human Union language and asked a bit awkwardly.

“…Who are you?”

Hearing the low, slightly stumbling Union speech, Lisa couldn’t help but widen her eyes, a glimmer of disbelief shimmering in her gaze.

“I… I’m Lisa.”

Lisa?

Battlefield Guy stared at her blankly; he’d never heard the name, but the more he looked, the more familiar she seemed, so he asked uncertainly.

“Have we met somewhere?”

Lisa nodded hastily, her eyes fixed on his, her cheeks gradually reddening. Finally, she gathered her courage and said.

“Yes, it was… at Falling Leaf Ridge, when General MacLaren gave me and the others to you as a gift. So, so… I am yours!”

“Cough!”

Hearing that explosive declaration, Battlefield Guy nearly choked on his own spit.

Especially when his peripheral vision caught Spring Water and I’m the Darkest barely holding back their laughter, he almost dug his toes through the floor.

Seeing Mr. Pangolin suddenly coughing for no reason, Lisa quickly went behind the bar, poured a cup of hot water, and hurried over to him, handing it with both hands.

“Please have some water.”

“Thanks…”

Taking the cup from the girl’s hands, Battlefield Guy awkwardly brought it to his lips, only to bump it against the helmet on his head, splashing water all over his face.

Only then did he remember he was wearing a fully protective iron suit, and the helmet’s visor wasn’t even open.

“Hahaha!”

Watching Battlefield Guy make a fool of himself, I’m the Darkest could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. Even Old White, who usually kept his expressions in check, cracked a knowing smile at the corner of his mouth.

Without noticing the reactions of those around her, Lisa, her eyes fixed only on the pangolin, hurriedly tried to help him remove his helmet, but he gently reached out and stopped her.

Looking at Lisa’s bewildered expression, the battlefield veteran, unable to stand the looks from those bastards, set his water glass on the bar.

“Follow me.”

With those words, he walked toward a wooden door nearby, leading Lisa to the courtyard between the main building and the annex.

The courtyard was nearly empty, with no bright lights—only a flower bed planted with various blooms and a row of washbasins for sobering up, making the space feel quite desolate.

Seeing Lisa’s anxious gaze fixed on him, the veteran glanced toward the main building of the inn, took a deep breath, and removed his helmet.

“It wasn’t convenient to talk earlier, so I’ll make it brief. I’m on a very important mission. Pangolin… uh, that’s my code name. When I sneak out, just call me Zhandi—that’s my real name.”

After hesitating for a long while, he ultimately couldn’t bring himself to say his full name, nor did he mention the nicknames other players had given him.

Gazing intently into his eyes, Lisa nodded solemnly and carefully committed the name to memory.

“Mm! I’ve got it.”

“Thanks for your cooperation… By the way, are you a survivor from Fallen Leaf Camp? I thought I recognized you from somewhere,” the veteran said with an awkward smile, continuing, “Are you the only one here? Where are the others?”

“They’re here too. Some are still in Dawn City, others have gone elsewhere and started new lives…” Lisa said softly, telling him what had happened before.

She recounted how, after he left, soldiers from the Storm Corps took over the camp, and how Grandpa Hook, the inn’s owner, had given her a job as a waitress.

Listening until the end, a relieved smile spread across the veteran’s face.

“Good. I’m glad you’ve all found normal lives. That’s the best outcome—my efforts weren’t wasted… What about you? Are you satisfied with your job now?”

Lisa nodded her little head vigorously, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, and her bright eyes, looking up at him, were filled with shimmering moonlight.

“Mm! Everyone here is really kind, and they always look out for me… They also told me you’d gone on a long trip and wouldn’t be back for a while, but if I waited here, I’d eventually see you. So I just… stayed here all this time.”

“Uh, why were you waiting for me… Ah, if it’s on MacLaren’s orders, you don’t have to. You’re a citizen of the Alliance now, you don’t belong to anyone—certainly not to me.” Seeing Lisa at a loss for words, the veteran couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly as he explained.

To him, that was a side quest from a long, long time ago.

On his way here, he had seen from the airship the city of Fallen Leaf, built on the land where they had once shed blood.

The people there were living normal lives, and each day was getting better.

At least for him, that expansion had reached a satisfying conclusion.

“It’s not because of anyone’s orders…”

Lisa puffed out her cheeks, about to speak, but then, as if remembering something, she lowered her raised head and murmured softly.

“I… I just wanted to thank you. Thank you for giving me a new life.”

Hearing this, the veteran smiled and reached out to pat her lowered head.

“You’re welcome. We came out of the shelter to do exactly this… It’s our job, and our mission.”

He hadn’t expected that side quest to have such an aftermath.

It seemed that, without realizing it, he had changed many people’s lives.

Looking at the young girl before him, a faint warmth stirred in the veteran’s heart—a feeling he had never experienced in other games.

Perhaps it was because this game was too real.

That warmth, touching the depths of his soul, thrilled him even more than silver coins or contribution points.

And maybe that was the real reason he continued, without regret, to carry out that absurdly long undercover mission…

Feeling the warmth on her head, Lisa gently lifted her gaze, a trace of reluctance in her eyes, and whispered.

“…Will you come visit me often? I’ll always be here.”

The battlefield atmosphere group smiled.

“No problem! But coming often will have to wait until my mission is over. I might have to go elsewhere again in a while.”

Hearing this promise, a joyful and contented smile finally bloomed on Lisa’s face, and she nodded firmly.

“Mm! It’s a promise! I’ll wait for you to come back!”

At that moment, by the back door of the inn’s lobby, several heads huddled together, staring intently at the two figures in the dark courtyard.

Excitedly gossiping, Crow couldn’t stop muttering.

“No way, old pal Zhandi can’t be that beastly, can he…”

Vine, squeezed until her neck ached, lifted her head helplessly.

“Why do I always feel like you’re kind of hoping he turns into a beast?”

Crow gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Hehe, I bet 100 silver coins… But still, don’t you think this pair is interesting? Cute Lisa waited for him a whole year—that’s true love for sure!”

Seeing his increasingly lecherous grin, Vine subtly edged away, putting some distance between them.

Debt-Eyes clenched his fists nervously, muttering under his breath.

“Damn! Why hasn’t that bastard kissed her yet! He’s not chickening out, is he!”

Watching his bet slip away, he almost wanted to reach out and push that guy’s head.

I’mTheBlackest yawned indifferently.

“So who wins this bet, anyway?”

Spring Commander smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Haha, looks like it’s a draw! Time to go—he’s coming back!”

The crowd gathered at the back door scattered in an instant.

Watching the group slip back in and sit down, and then the two figures—one tall, one short—return shortly after, Old White, who had been sitting at the bar the whole time, couldn’t help but smile.

He had probably guessed what happened.

As the veteran passed by the bar, Old White said with a grin.

“Not staying for a drink before heading back?”

“No, I’ve still got a mission. I need to report back soon.”

Stopping by the bar, the veteran watched the petite figure disappear into the back kitchen, then paused before continuing.

“The Legion’s delegation is trying to get involved with the Free State. Bennet asked me to arrange a meeting with their envoy at the camp… Oh, and tell the Administrator to watch Bennet’s adjutant. I heard he’s from the Marshal’s Guard—probably similar to the Praetorian Guard. I couldn’t get more details.”

Old White nodded seriously and said softly.

“I’ll pass that on.”

Looking away from the back kitchen, the veteran suddenly gave a helpless glance at the guy lounging casually at the bar.

“Speaking of which, you kept me in suspense for a whole year over something this trivial. Was that fun?”

Old White laughed heartily and shot him a teasing look.

“Don’t you think it’s more interesting to discover those Easter eggs hidden in side quests on your own? Besides, even if I’d told you an NPC wanted to thank you, you probably wouldn’t have cared.”

Rolling his eyes behind the helmet, the veteran didn’t deny it, just tossed out a casual remark.

“I’ll buy you that drink next time.”

Watching that broad back disappear into the clinking of glasses at the far end, Old Bai raised his oak cup filled with beer slightly toward the hotel entrance and said with a smile, "I'll remember that."