After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World - Chapter 552

Chapter 552: Fighting Back (Part 1)
Hired aborigines aside, there were also plenty of Terrans citizens who aimed to make it harder for their own ‘ruling party’.

There were plenty of locals trying to help out the ‘enemy’ their own way, so to speak.

In one area, a group of about a hundred local guards were against a smaller group of enemies. Because of the number discrepancy, the Alterans would seem to have no chance at first glance, but then they would explode in power every time they had to.

Combined with their superior equipment as well as the certain elements flying here and there, the Fargo guard team encountered deep trouble despite outnumbering them several-to-one.

For instance, a small blanket of fire would appear in an area and the Fargo guards would naturally try to avoid it. Those who couldn’t be burned, while those who did would hit and even step on their other teammates because of the narrowness of the space.

The Alterans would take advantage of the imbalance to stab and attack. Slowly but surely the guards were taken down one by one.

The watchers would also see that they never seemed to run out of strategies! For example, they’d have a formation when they were in relatively open space, and another when they were using the narrow streets and alleys.

Many of the cowardly guards would give up trying to fight and would abandon the battle. It so happened that a few people passed by the alleys where several vindictive watchers lived.

These very injured guards would be hit with various things as soon as they entered, some of which with surprising accuracy.

One time it was stone, mostly displaced from the ongoing fights, sometimes it was a shoe, or a belt, or whatever.

The current victim was a Terran guard at the peak of level 7. He was in pitiful condition. His arm was dripping blood, and his face was full of bruises and wounds. He was limping a bit as he walked, but he was definitely running away from the chaos with all his might.

He was already suffering so much, cursing, and he was mentally ranting about how the world was unfair. Unfortunately or not, he was suddenly disrupted when he was hit with various little things.

“AH!” He yelled when a rock hit his head, followed by another, and another.

“STOP IT!” He shouted when an old shoe hit his face.

His eyes turned red. “Leave me alone!” He yelled, “See what I’ll do with you when this is ov—”

Whoosh!

An arrow flew straight to a tendon on his leg. “AH!” He yelled as he lost his balance and fell smack on the ground.

He groaned. He was already in so much pain before, but now a freaking arrow decided to bury itself in his leg! Not to mention the new massive bruise on his face caused by the fall.

He groaned, listening to a few footsteps coming in his direction. He cursed, shifting to get up, but a foot kicked him back down the ground.

BANG!

“OOOF!”

The owner of the foot was none other than Kyle, a high-potential young lad that the soldiers rescued back when they reached Fargo the first time.

It was worth noting that, even with his young age and mild temperament, the others seemed to look at him for support.

Today though, his mood was particularly darker. Unlike the bubbly young man Gill and the others found, it seemed that the lad had grown several years after staying in this place for a couple of weeks.

He glared at the man under his feet. “These hateful bastards!” he yelled with gritted teeth, kicking him back down over and over, releasing a lot of pent-up anger he was holding back the past few weeks. “You people made us suffer so much, this is our chance to return the favor!”

The others around him had various expressions on their faces. Some were reluctant and worried about the repercussions, but most were nodding strongly—not really caring about the consequences.

In any case, they pulled the bastard back to the house, whether it was to kidnap him or to avoid enemies altogether.

Fortunately, the people nearby also saw what they had done, and also did the same.

In each house, there were at least a few people who participated—there were no exemptions.

Pretty much everyone with some moral compass had been victimized by at least one or two of Fargo’s men—whether it was Terran or someone from the mercenary team.

And the hate was not small.

They were too weak to try before, but now—with these bastards extremely weakened and alone—this was their chance to finally get their revenge!

Unlike people hired through the Chancery, citizens of a territory could hurt their ruling party during the war unless they signed an oath of sorts. They could even hurt them outside of it, if there were no rules against violence.

A lot of territories that felt they had absolute power would not bother with regulations, and Fargo was among these places.

This lack of regulation that made many people suffer would also be the very reason why his men would be tortured to death!

During this time, more and more enemies had trickled in, some even coming in small groups. They had no choice but to let the groups pass by. Even if the enemies were injured, they were only weak civilians!

However, there were still a lot of lone or pairs who would pass through their streets, and the vengeful civilians would target these ‘outliers’.

As such, dozens of deserters ended up becoming victims of the bitter citizens they tortured for a long time!

“What?!”

“STOP IT!”

“AHHHH!”

Various yells like this echoed along alleys and streets in this area, and a lot of deserters that ventured in would no longer come out.

After about an hour, Kyle’s group had half a dozen guards tied up and with broken limbs.

On top of the damage caused to them by the Alterans, they were also badly beaten up by their captors. They were covered in blood and grime and snot and tears—very much unlike the arrogant pricks they were on a normal day.

If one had no context, they’d even have pity on this evil men. However, sadly for these men, there was no one who felt so in that house.

Kyle had about eight roommates (all of whom came here as refugees with him) and he took in about 10 refugees from the shanties during the earlier mob. Every and each one of them had beef with at least one person there.

For weeks they endured the suffering these people caused them, and there was no amount of beating up felt enough!

So they didn’t stop venting until they were tired, they didn’t stop hurting these people, finding their screams and cries addicting to the ears and healing to the heart.

They beat them up by destroying their limbs and their crotches. Some would even outright stab them.

It felt… cleansing, and a few people even sobbed in satisfaction. One woman from the shanties had been abused by at least two of these men, while one of the men lost his daughter to them.

There was also one whose brothers died as bait during the level 3 upgrade beast tide. He would never forget the smirking face of the men who threw him in the mob! And now he was going to destroy it!

Kick!

Bang!

Slash!

Stab!

“GAAHHH!”

“Stop itt!”

As they heard the screams of pain of these psychopaths, they also prayed for the souls of the people lost in their hands.

“My little princess! I hope you see this!” A man yelled at the sky, sobbing, and shaking as he stabbed the man a few more times.

Another was crying as he continuously kicked a particular man, hoping he suffered for as long as possible.

“We’ll see you rot in hell!” he yelled, finally taking out his sword and aiming for the bastard’s heart. “May you not cause any more pain from now on!”

Stab!

At this signal, the others looked at the rest of the men, shivering, and begging for their lives. But no one’s heart was softened at all.

They acknowledged it was time to rid the world of these bastards.

One by one, the six people died horrible deaths fitting of their crimes.