After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World - Chapter 558

Chapter 558: Guide
“Do slaves have the same rights as you do?” A pretty feminine voice from the side said, making everyone turn to her.

It was Vivian, the former reporter, unsurprisingly asking the sharp questions. Her question hit the realization in the others’ minds and they looked at the Alterans with inquiry and maybe a bit of guardedness.

Sunny’s smile didn’t change. “Altera doesn’t keep slaves.”

This made everyone look at her, some in disbelief and some in hope. “Really?”

“Altera doesn’t need to,” Crow stepped forward and added. “For one, it’s against our code of ethics as Terrans.”

“Altera’s citizens aren’t forced to do anything. We are completely willing to join forces to enhance it, to defend it, and to go to other territories to fight for it.

“You should’ve noticed that none of us are guards. Citizens like us are willing to risk our lives to go to war. Why?”

“Yes, why?”

Crow rarely smiled, so this came out as a bit of a smirk. Only he and his friends knew how sincere he was.

“Because Altera is worth it.”

…

The Alterans were patient with the various questions thrown at them after that.

Although they wanted to get back to war, they understood what Crow was trying to do—something that would be more impactful than just the few of them pushing through.

It was a bit odd with the corpses of the enemies around, but after so long in this place, few people were queasy.

In fact, the topics somehow even ended being a bit… commercial.

“Do you have… anymore?” one person asked an Alteran. “I mean… I can pay.”

“Oh?” Alteran #1 said, blinking, “Oh, okay.”

He then took out a piece of crackers and the man handed him a few silvers!

“This… you can have a few more.”

This time it was the man’s look of disbelief. “This…”

“It’s fine.”

In another spot, a few people went to another Alteran. “Do you have another cloth? Any will do, it’s just that I—”

“Hmn, I happen to have an old pair of pants. Its hem is a little damaged tho, and I just used it as pajamas.”

“I can buy it!”

And so on.

It had to be said: Alterans, even during wars, could still make money.

Crow and his friends watched this in amusement. Of course, this couldn’t last long. After all, they had a war to fight.

He looked around to see everyone in his team had already rested, and he clapped his hands. “It’s time for us to go now,” he said.

This made the Fargo citizens look at him in a bit of panic, their stares making the Alterans shiver a bit. “What?”

“Wait, don’t go yet!” they yelled, standing up. Even those who were limping crowded around them. The Alterans sweat-dropped, feeling a little suffocated. Some paranoid Alteran even thought they fell into a trap or something.

“What about us?”

“Yes, what about us!”

The Alterans were very confused. “What about you?”

“You mentioned contribution points. How could we make sure we’re listed?”

Ah.

At this, Crow and Sunny took out some writing tools to list down the names of those who helped out. “Tell me your names and what you did.”

“Pencil and paper? Wow you guys really preprared before the Migration.”

“This? No, Altera produces this.” Though to be fair, they had a lot because they were part of the Architectural and Engineering team.

Either way, the Fargo citizen’s eyes twitched at his words.

So… other people could make clothing, food, and paper now? Didn’t the refugees say Fargo was already very good? How come the gap was so big to others?

Anyway, the citizens rushed to get listed, afraid to be missed out. Those at the back of the queue made sure they were visible to the Alterans as well. Of course, some people hiding inside their homes saw this and tried to get listed too.

Instead of ignoring them (which was what they’d have done, had they been in their own territory), they just listed their names, promising to add points when they actually did something.

Soon, it was the more prominent young men’s turns. Crow took special note of these guys—young, brave, and resourceful. They’d be good additions to their territory.

“So, what are your names and what were your accomplishments?”

The leader—the curly blonde—spoke first. “My name’s Tacky Brat. Killed/assisted in killing approximately 10 Fargo guards.”

“Juan Moon, killed/assisted in killing 8 Fargo guards,” said the short and tanned lad with horsetail hair at the back. He was followed by the pale-skinned friend with narrow eyes.

“Baka Hapon, killed/assisted in killing 7 Fargo guards.”

And so on.

They ended many minutes later and the few conscious ones felt guilty for taking so much of their time.

“Let us guide you to a wall,” Tacky proactively offered and the Alterans naturally appreciated this. Seeing the favor of the Alterans, a lot of Fargo citizens felt envious.

However, they obviously couldn’t all go, so the group separated from the others with the promise that their contributions in the war would be heard. Similarly, if they could, to bring the message to others as well.

Anyway, the group continued towards the wall, but—afraid they’d encounter big groups of Fargo guards— had to take a few detours due to their small numbers.

Unlike the inner circle, there were a lot more shanty areas in this side. It was a much worse maze than what Althea encountered. Fortunately, the locals naturally knew a lot of ‘alternative’ pathways.

As they passed a few houses, the people who dared peek through the windows were surprised to see familiar faces guiding enemies. However, they didn’t really dare ask or go out at this time, so they just kept mum.

The Tacky trio took the Alterans through several alleys, a lot of which were just as wide as a person. It was relatively uneventful for a while until a strong stench made them stop in their tracks.

They thought they had become relatively immune (although distasteful) to the smell of this place. But, somehow, the stench in this spot was so strong that they all stepped back and gasped at the sudden burst of—for the lack of a better phrase—a miasma of grossness.

Dog and a few others barely stopped their gagging. “What—”

Tacky and the others were a little embarrassed when they saw their reactions. They forgot to warn the Alterans about this.

It was just that they were so used to the smell that they didn’t think the Alterans wouldn’t. However, the more they knew about these people, the more they realized that these people had lived a good life, even in Xeno.

They were definitely queasy—even if they wanted to believe otherwise!

Tacky stopped and cleared his throat. “This is why few people go through here, and which is why it’s safe. It’s also one of the fastest ways directly to the walls, otherwise we’d go through a lot of detours in other places and run the risk of encountering groups of guards.”

Speaking of which, Tacky knew this path because he often made enemies with the guards. He naturally needed places to run and hide.

“But if you want to go to another path—”

“No, this is okay,” Crow interrupted, though looking even paler than usual. “We’ll take this path.”

Tacky saw they were serious and headed towards the ‘miasma’. “Er… follow me,” he said, and headed to the disgusting alley that was probably filled with filth.

The Alterans saw the three young lads jump up, using the walls as a surface, pausing after a few climbs to turn and look at them.

The Alterans were, understandably, a bit reluctant. It was narrow and dark and long—probably a few blocks in length.

“This must be what the river Styx is like,” Dog said, earning him a bump on the back of his head.

It was Crow, who led the way to follow them, jumping up and opening his legs and using the two opposite walls as support. With this, more and more people followed them, every one with green faces from trying to hold their breaths.

Seeing as they were following, Tacky heaved a sigh of relief (tho coughing a bit at the smell that entered). “Be careful, you know what you’ll fall to.”

As the Alterans approached to follow the rest of them, they couldn’t help but look at the floor filled with feces, thrown from the windows facing there.

Their eyes twitched at the obstacle but fortunately they had improved physiques so it wasn’t impossible.

Led by crow, the Alterans traversed the disgusting alleys one by one, trying not to breathe.

Dog, who was still feeling a little sting from the earlier wounds, flinched a bit. The little movement caused him to slide down.

“Ah!”

“DOG!”

“AGHH!” he yelled, doing his best to stabilize and avoided the floor by a few centimeters.

Looking at how pale he (and the others) was, one would think he almost fell into lava.

Dog’s eyes lined with tears as the stench attacked his nose because his nose clip got dropped from the chaos. He had a very strong nose and it was making him puke.

Anyway, after readjusting from this episode, the group continued to laboriously go through this way. When they were halfway through, Tacky paused as he saw something.

Those nearby would see that he was looking at a long line of blackish-brown marks on the wall in front of him.

“Ah, be careful, some people who throw their things sometimes miss and the stuff hits the wall.”

This time Dog really couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Bleurgh!

Curse this damned place!