Joseph walked slowly out of his house.

As he stepped out of the open door, he felt a shudder.

He had no idea where the feeling came from, and in fact, he didn't even bother to grasp the fleeting question. When acid rain fell from the sky on his skin, the burning pain caused him to forget about it.

He walked through the shantytown, where the side of the road was staring at the night sky with the sound of a near-dead corpse, coughing incessantly. Every time he walked this stretch of road, Joseph felt depressed.

This feeling is normal, Lie said, because no one wants to hear anyone else coughing, especially people with black lung disease. As long as I see them coughing up black dust and blood once, I will never forget it.

It's a good thing to be able to remember, however, Joseph doesn't want to let himself remember these things.

He looked up so he wouldn't look at them.

He walked through the dark and foul-smelling streets with his neck straight, and reached the other end of the shantytown, where Lie's home was. However, as he expected, many people had already arrived here before him.

Lie's house had no door, in fact, he lived under a wall that extended from the outer edge, and that wall was his home.

Now, it's all densely packed with black characters. Scrawny ghosts stood shadowy in the darkness, staring at them.

Seeing this, Joseph knew that he didn't have to squeeze in to find the queue anymore.

At this time, he is eighty percent away. The worker turned and walked into an alley that was narrow enough for him to walk sideways.

The rough barbs of the metal tin scraped against his coat and made a screeching sound, and Joseph cursed secretly, but he didn't pay much attention to it, he just continued to walk forward.

A few minutes later, he found the column in a fairly small clearing. He lay under a newly erected shed, the plastic sheeting he had picked up with a stick, and below it was a raised hardwood plank, on which the column lay down.

"Columns." Joseph cried out in a low voice. "Do you want to go out?"

"Tonight?"

Lie opened his eyes and sat up, his dirty face with a few more bruises at some point.

Ever since he decided to pursue the ghost's shadow, injuries have become commonplace. Sometimes it's an unfamiliar fall, and sometimes it's an attack by a gang – it's more like an assault than an expulsion.

They treat the workers in the shantytowns as casually as machines, and when the machines in the factories break down, they are also beaten. And in their eyes, it is such a machine.

"What's wrong tonight?" Joseph asked. He didn't quite understand what was so special about tonight, but Lie laughed.

He climbed out of the plastic sheet, lifted his bed, and dragged a dark red rag wet from underneath him. He picked it up, unfolded it, and showed it to Joseph.

"See?"

"See what?"

"Look at this sign." Column said. "The biggest gang in West City, do you see it?"

Following his guidance, Joseph finally found the mark.

It's unremarkable, even halfway. But Joseph recognized it at once—since he had witnessed the flames in the ruins that day, he had come to look for Lie every night, and went out with him to look for traces of the ghost.

In these days, they have seen so many things that they could not have imagined before.

For example, this logo.

"Bloody skulls?" Joseph lowered his voice and asked. "Where did you get that?"

"Picked up from their corpses." Lie laughed and replied. "I've been out once tonight, Joseph."

"You went to their station?"

"No, I didn't go. I picked it up on the side of the road and they"

Lie pursed his lips.

"I don't know how to explain it to you, Joseph, but I did see the ghost tonight. Not one, it's not one. ”

His eyes were sparkling, and his sentences were slightly messy.

"There are a lot of them."

——

Trial.

This is not the first time Enric has done this, and he has tried many people who are full of sin.

But, frankly, the sinners of Nostramo are the weakest of them all.

They don't have a formed army, they don't have the weapons to turn the earth into a sea of fire, they have almost nothing.

That's why Enric couldn't understand it.

They are the weakest, but they are the most terrifying.

"Eighth Company Commander." A voice rang out in the communication channel. "Aren't you going to let those civilians come and watch the death of these scum?"

"Don't ask me, Targaryens. I'm not your company commander. ”

"You're the highest-ranking person in Quintus."

"There are no military ranks anymore."

"The original said he didn't plan to revoke your ranks."

Targaryen said.

"So, please, give me a definite answer as well as an order. Are we going to let the civilians who live in the shantytowns watch the death of these sinners? ”

“.”

Enric Barbatos was silent for a moment before giving his answer.

"Nope." He said in a deep voice. "It doesn't make sense, they won't understand it now."

"Allow me to ask again, I didn't hear what you were saying."

"I'm sure there's nothing wrong with my communications system – so, yes, there's no need to get them over."

Enric looked up, almost sighing.

The meaning of judgment is to make the sinners understand their sins, and to let the victims see the coming of justice. But do you think those sinners will come to their senses? They won't, they won't change. And there is no justice to speak of in Nostramo. ”

"Aren't we righteous?" The Targaryens of the First Company asked in a low voice.

"We're not." Enric said. "We can't stand for justice."

"And what are we, Company Commander Enrique?"

"We are the judges, that's all."

Enric hung up, and he turned and took off his helmet, exposing his face to the foul, sour air of Nostramo's nest.

He gazed down quietly, he could see his brothers taking sinners to the place of judgment, and he knew what would happen next. But does this really change Nostramo?

From this, a second question was born in his mind, and a deep worry.

Can we really make the home planet of the original for the better? We are only inquisitors and executioners, we can only kill.

But killing never really solves the problem.

Sigh - Enric Barbatos puts on his helmet again.

Tonight is still a long time.

He jumped off the spire and stepped into the darkness.

——

"How are they doing?"

Midnight Ghost hissed and asked. His expression was excited, and it was evident that his smile was full of pride and pride.

"How do you think they're doing?" Carlil asked rhetorically with a chuckle. "I'm not the Lord of the Eighth Legion, nor am I their original body."

"But I want to know what you think."

The ghost said stubbornly, even after the sentence abruptly switching to Gothic, spit out a phrase.

"Partner."

He blinked, his eyes full of anticipation. "How? What do you think of them? ”

My opinion

What can I think, Spirit? What else can I say besides compliments? They did in one night what I hadn't been able to do in so many years.

"This is just the beginning, Conrad." Carlil said calmly.

"Start?"

"The trial is only the first step." Carlil shook his head. "If you want to get Nostramo out of what it is now, trial alone is never enough."

"Tonight, the Eighth Legion slaughtered the nobles in five nests in Nostramo, and the gangs were on the verge of becoming a term of man-made destruction. But what about those workers, Conrad? What are you going to do with them? ”

Midnight Wraith smiled, almost impatiently answering Carlil's question.

"Feed them and clothe them, teach them to read and write, and turn the factory into a normal job. Reform the environment and establish laws so that they understand that crimes are punished. I've thought about all of this, Carlile, I've read Fogen's notes. ”

"So, what are you going to do?" Carlil asked calmly.

"Let them be fed and clothed?"

"Yes, that's your purpose, but how are you going to do it?"

Staring into the eyes that would have been expected to be complimented, Carlil was impassive and spat out cold words in one of the rooms of the Nightfall.

Never before had he been so harsh on Conrad Coetzes, so disregarding his feelings to utter such a pointed question.

But he had to do it now.

There is no room for sloppiness in this matter.

"What are you going to do, Conrad Coetze?" He asked. "Keep them fed and clothed – how do you get started? Are you going to drive a car in the street and shout through a horn to tell them that the aristocracy is dead and everyone can have a new life? ”

"They won't understand, Conrad. They don't even know what the new life really means. And in their cognition, the people who drive the car are all big people from the upper nest, so they will think of you as a new nobleman. ”

"I'm not!" The Midnight Wraith roared suddenly, its hands clenched into fists.

"I know you're not, but do they know?"

"They'll know!"

"No, they won't. Because you are a nobleman. ”

"I'm not!"

"You are not a nobleman of Nostramo, you are a nobleman within the Human Empire. You are the most noble of the people in this vast empire that spans the galaxy, and you are one of the sons of the emperor. ”

"And to the workers, you are no different from the gods. When you appear, what do you think they will think of a giant like you, who is almost three meters tall? ”

With his head down, Midnight Ghost trembled and whispered a word in Nostramo: "I am not a god. ”

Carlil shook his head, not switching to Nostramo as before.

"Let them be fed and clothed, let them read and read. In what capacity are you going to do this, Conrad? How are you going to do this? ”

"The workers of Nostramo will not understand the original body, and they will not understand the meaning behind the Eighth Army and what it represents. They'll just see you as a bigger nobleman, leading a bigger gang – that's all. ”

"No, it's not like that, Carlil, it's not like that."

"Yes, Conrad. And"

Carlil chuckled in a cold voice.

"They're going to go to great lengths to join the gang." He said softly. "It's a nature of the Nostramo people that have been shaped by nurture, and you can't change it."

"I can." Midnight Wraith hissed as he looked up, looking at Carlil aggrieved and disappointed.

And the latter just looked at him calmly.

"Can you?" Suppressing all emotions, Carlil asked calmly, almost indifferently.

"I can!" The ghost shouted. "I can change them!"

"You can't, you're even talking to me in Nostramo to look in the mirror, Conrad, go and see the grievances you have on your face now."

"Your legion has fulfilled the order you issued, and your first reaction after boarding the Nightfall was to come to me, what are you looking for me? Want my approval? ”

"You actually asked me how they are doing, they are your legion, Conrad, they have nothing to do with me, so you don't need to ask me about these things."

Carlil stared calmly, reached out and wiped two tears from the face of a giant with his head bowed.

"You're the Lord of the Eighth Legion."

He whispered.

"Learn to think for yourself, learn to do everything the way Conrad Coetzes does, you can't be a midnight ghost now, you know?"

"But."

Sizzle.

"In Gorgothic, remember what I said to you before I got on board?"

“.”

Silent.

After a few moments, Conrad Coetze replied in a low Gothic voice: "When you get on board, don't speak Nostramo." ”

"So, who are you now?"

"Conrad Coetze."

"You're still the Lord of the Eighth Legion." Carlil smiled and sent the pale giant out of the room. "Go talk to your legion."

Standing in the doorway, Conrad Coetzes pursed his lips.

"What about you?" He asked in a low voice.

"I don't belong to your legion."

"But you are"

"What am I?"

“.”

"I don't have a position, Conrad." Carlil said calmly. "I shouldn't have a position either, are you going to let an outsider into your legion and become an officer? Don't do it, or you're insulting everyone. ”

"Behind those ranks are promotions that have been bought with blood, and they are proof of their glory. You can't give me this glory for nothing, I didn't do anything. ”

Silence, Conrad Coetzes remained silent, not understanding why things had suddenly come to this. The cold touch in his right wrist was still steady, trying to calm his heartbeat, but to no avail.

"So, what am I going to do?"

"Ask yourself, Lord of the Eighth Legion." Carlil said calmly.

He closed the door.

Let's start with a sneak up chapter.

Today it is more than 20,000.

(End of chapter)