Chapter 161： refugee one

In the village of Kass, near the southern border of Arda, the mood today is unusually tense.

On the main road to the south of the village, several roadblocks made of wooden fences were placed in succession, blocking the road tightly.

Makarov, who had been promoted to a sergeant, led a hundred militiamen to form a cordon, facing the south and waiting.

Today is the day when the refugees arrive, and the General Staff ordered them to line up here to "welcome".

However, their welcome method is a bit special. Many people hold swords, guns, swords and spears, and those without weapons also hold agricultural tools such as pitchforks and iron manuscripts.

Everyone was sullen, as if they were about to go to war.

Several tents were set up at the entrance of the wooden fence, and there were tables and chairs inside. In each tent sat two people who were fully dressed and wore big masks. They even wore gloves on their hands. , showing two eyes all over the body.

"Give me some energy when the refugees arrive!"

Sergeant Makarov yelled at the militiamen.

"Remember, be serious! Try to show your scary appearance as much as possible, make them afraid of you, and give them a strong sense of psychological oppression."

"Don't let them have the illusion that they are here to enjoy the blessing! Do you hear clearly?"

The militiamen responded with a chorus of shouts: "Yes! Sir!"

Susan in the tent on the side was very speechless after hearing this: "Is this necessary? Those outsiders have suffered from wars and turmoil. Shouldn't we give them the warmth of family?"

She, her teacher Dr. Wade, and several other doctors who participated in "medical training" in Huxin Town were sent here by the Government Council to "quarantine" the refugees.

In one tent she examined women, while her teacher examined men in another tent.

A militia came running down the road from the south.

"Report, Sergeant Makarov!"

After standing still, he saluted and said, "The refugees are here."

Makarov raised his hand: "Pay attention!"

Soon on the road leading to the south, a large group of people appeared in everyone's sight. They should be the refugees received by the Government Affairs Council in the south.

As they got closer and closer, the militiamen could clearly see the appearance of these refugees, what kind of people they were, they were sallow, emaciated, and dressed in rags, they were even worse than beggars in Northwest Bay.

A few men on horseback ran out from the refugee group. They rushed to the barricade and gave Makarov a military salute.

"Sergeant, these people will be handed over to you first, and we have to return to Huxin Town to report. This is the first batch, a total of 357 people."

Makarov saluted them back: "Don't worry, we will strictly check here."

These men on horseback belonged to the internal guards. This time they went south with Hansel and were responsible for guiding the refugees to the Northwest Bay, going through customs clearance procedures in the territory along the way, and trying not to let the refugees starve to death on the way.

After the handover, they bypassed the roadblock and continued on their way north.

Makarov ordered the militiamen: "According to the previous grouping, go and line up the refugees."

"Yes!"

Half of the militiamen were divided into five squads and rushed towards the crowd to the south.

When the refugees saw a large group of people with weapons and sticks running towards them, they suddenly became frightened and restless, stopped and whispered at a loss.

"Listen to me!"

The militiaman Joss showed what he thought was the scariest expression, and yelled at the refugees in a "fierce manner": "Now you immediately line up in a column. Have you seen the entrance of the wooden fence in front? When you get there, pass by one by one. Go to the tent designated by the sentinel, don't overtake it, don't disturb the formation."

Perhaps in the eyes of these southern refugees, Joss' northwest accent combined with his "sinister" appearance was a bit funny, and some of them were not only not shocked, but laughed out loud.

Joss looked depressed, and several other militiamen immediately took out their whips and slammed them hard at the laughing refugees.

"What a joke! If you laugh again, I will beat you to death, you foreigner."

"Ouch! My lord, please spare me!"

The refugees who were drawn begged for mercy.

After some threats of leather whips, the refugees became honest.

However, it was not easy to get them to line up. It took a long time for the militiamen to form a column.

The column moved on until it came to the barricade.

The militiamen guarding the roadblock released six people and drove them to six tents.

The refugees who continued to wait suddenly smelled a scent that made people move their index fingers. Following the scent, a large pot was burning in a big tent on the other side of the barricade, with hot steam rising from it. What is cooking.

"There is something to eat! There is something to eat!"

"Food! It's real food!"

The news spread quickly, and the refugee team suddenly became chaotic, and there was a lot of noise, and many people ran from the back to the front of the team. .

The scent that wafted over was much stronger than the messy things they used to satisfy their hunger on the road. The adults who led them on the road were only responsible for preventing them from starving to death.

"What are you doing? What are you doing? Don't know if you have to queue up?"

The militiamen ran over, yelled loudly, and lashed at those running around with their whips, trying to restore order.

"My lords, please give us a bite of food first!"

Joss blocked the entrance with his body and shouted loudly: "Line up well, as long as the doctor checks your body, you will have something to eat."

But his voice was quickly drowned in the noise of the refugeesMy lord, we have eaten pig food for nearly half a month, no, even pigs can't eat those things. "

"Yeah, and it's just that little bit every day, and we're starving to death."

The refugees in front of the roadblock gathered more and more, and many people began to try to climb over the roadblock.

Seeing that the situation was about to get out of control, Makarov yelled, "Everyone is here! Get ready!"

Fifty militiamen were standing around him all the time, each of them carrying a long wooden stick with a thick cloth wrapped around the end.

The militiamen stood neatly in three rows. After hearing the sergeant's order, they immediately put the wooden sticks in their hands flat, and the people in the second and third rows stretched the wooden sticks forward through the gap between the teammates in front.

Makarov gave an order: "Assault!"

They ran quickly at small steps, and the wooden sticks in their hands quickly stabbed into the crowd of refugees.

Those refugees near the roadblock were caught off guard, and a large area was knocked down with a clatter.

For a while, the voices of crying father and mother were endless.

The militiamen turned around and pointed their sticks at the remaining petrified refugees.

"Old... master, please forgive me!"

The man in the front knelt down and begged for mercy.

With a leader, the people behind also knelt down.

Makarov came to stand in front of them. He was a tall man with his hands behind his back, and the muscles on his face were tense.

Unlike the militiamen, the sergeant had slaughtered a large number of pirates with his own hands, and he exuded a chilling aura.

He glanced at the unlucky ones who were still lying on the ground shēnyín.

"Within 10 minutes, restore formation!"

"The people who were at the roadblock just now, all go to the end of the line!"

The sergeant's terrible voice hit everyone's eardrums hard.