Stanley and Freddy followed George who seemed to be grumbling on his own as he made his way down to the 3rd and 4th quadrants.
After delivering the registry from the prison camp, George had been given another task for the day. However, he hadn't relayed what the task was to either of the two and simply expected them to follow him without question.
Stanley was very curious as to just what it was that had gotten George in such a bad mood. Did he perhaps not like going down to the lower quadrants?
"Goddamn idiots! Can't even be a little grateful," George spoke just loud enough that Stanley could make out what he was saying. "Do they not understand how much he has done for this town?"
'What is he talking about?' Stanley wondered.
"Just wait until it's my turn. I'll make sure to punish each and every one of them," he continued speaking.
Neither Stanley nor Freddy could understand what was going on.
The people on the road moved away as George made his way through. Everyone here knew of his ego and attitude as well, so they knew to not be in his way.
Unlike the upper 2 quadrants, the lower quadrants didn't have proper arrangements for houses. They were built wherever there was space with a very small pathway to be used as roads.
Houses were small and cramped, holding many people in them despite their size. The population of the lower quadrants was significantly higher than the upper quadrant as a result.
From what Stanley knew about the situation, the upper 2 quadrants were the original place where the last humans had settled in this town. That was also why most of the houses there were large and spacious, with the arrangement being quite good.
The Defenders headquarters had formed right below the two quadrants as well, to protect the people from the crawlers.
It was only once the population had increased by a lot that the lower quadrants had to be formed, and that was why the Defenders headquarters ended up being in the center of the 4 quadrants, rather than below it.
Due to the lack of straight roadways, Stanley found it hard to keep track of exactly where he was walking. He was unsure if he could reach this place again if someone dared him to come here.
George stopped right in front of a small rundown house with a group of people playing cards outside of it.
"Is your leader inside?" George asked.
The group of ruffian-looking people quickly moved aside to make way. "He's on the 2nd floor, sir," one of them quickly replied.
George nodded and walked in. Stanley and Freddy were unsure exactly what was going on, but they followed George inside nonetheless.
A wooden staircase led them to the floor above with more men laying around. They moved aside when George walked through.
"Hmm? Oh, if it isn't sir George," a man who was sitting behind a table full of scattered paper spoke when he saw George.
The man was shorter than the average man in the town and was a little chubby as well. He looked to be in his 30s and had a steep widow's peak that he tried to hide with his thin hair.
He wore a normal gray tunic and trousers, but there was a bandage on his left arm that wasn't part of what he wore at all.
George walked up and sat on the other side of the table, uncaring about the men around him. He looked at the papers scattered throughout the room and scoffed a little. "I see business is running well," he said.
"It has been amazing, sir George," the man said. "What to others was a tragedy was nothing but a business opportunity for us. The mayor has paid quite a hefty sum to have us help rebuild the town and the farm."
"Hmph," George refused to find pleasure in the man's pleasure. "It won't be for long though. As soon as they come here, you know that you're going to the farm too, right?"
The chubby man's face changed a little. "Certainly I can be exempted. Even though I don't have any powers, I've been rather helpful to the town," he said.
"Heh, if it was even a year later, I might have been able to help you," George said. "But since it is happening within the last 3 months, I cannot do anything for you at all."
"Please, sir George, you should be able to do something, right?" the man asked.
"Even if I could, why do you think I would want to?" George asked.
The man's eyes narrowed. "You're here for something, aren't you? Surely if I helped you with the task, you could help me a little too, right? It should be a fair exchange."
George tapped on the table a few times as he thought and shrugged. "Why not? If you are useful, I'll put in some good word," he said. "Only if you are useful though."
"I promise I will be, brother George," the man said. "So, what exactly can I help you with?"
George looked around at the men that were in and outside of the room. "Your men, they are out and about a lot, right?" he asked.
"They are," the man nodded. "That is their job."
"Then they must have brought along the news they heard from outside too then," George asked.
"Which news exactly is it that you wanted to learn about, sir George?" the man asked.
"You know which one," George said. "The one that's the most threatening to our society. The one that if true will disrupt the life of so many people that it would not even be funny."
"Ah… I see," the man spoke. "You want to hear about the resistance, don't you?"
George straightened up and got closer.
"What do you know about it?"