"Everyone, come and get your paper and pens!"
"Don't miss a single one, or we won't guarantee your safety!"
"For the sake of your own lives, just cooperate for now..."
The already cramped hall was now packed to the brim with people.
Uniformed staff members rushed back and forth, distributing paper and pens, occasionally shouting orders amidst the flurry of activity.
In the center of the hall, a large group of people sat on the floor, as there were no chairs available. They varied in gender and age, and their clothing was just as mismatched—some were dressed in summer attire, while others wore heavy winter coats. Upon closer inspection, there were roughly several dozen of them.
It was late January, the heart of winter.
Those wearing summer clothes were shivering violently, but none dared to utter a word of complaint. They obediently accepted the paper and pens from the staff and began filling out their personal information.
Along the walls of the hall stood several heavily armed soldiers, stationed in the corners with automatic rifles in hand. They exuded an air of deadly seriousness, like seasoned warriors who had been through countless battles. Their grim expressions suggested they were not to be trifled with, as if they would truly kill without hesitation. The intimidating atmosphere made it impossible for anyone to meet their gaze.
In fact, not long ago, someone had caused trouble in this very room. A soldier had shot him dead on the spot, and the body had only just been dragged away. A pool of stark blood remained on the ground, a grim reminder of the incident.
Realizing that these people really were capable of killing, the refugees seated on the floor lost all will to resist.
They gradually came to understand that, in the eyes of these armed men, their lives were worth very little. Human life, in this place, had no real value.
Obeying was the only way to survive, no matter how wretched it felt.
"Damn it... What kind of world have we ended up in..."
Among the group, someone gritted their teeth and cursed under their breath, venting their anger and fear.
Most of the people shared that same reaction, cursing the fickleness of fate, or whatever mysterious force had brought them here. Others remained silent, but their faces were filled with dread, their hearts clouded with confusion about the uncertain future.
"Sir Kanzaki, the identification forms have been collected."
After a while, the staff finished gathering the completed forms and handed a thick stack of papers to the man in charge of the hall, a middle-aged man named Kanzaki.
Kanzaki glanced over the papers briefly before stepping forward to address the group.
"Well, I suppose I should welcome you all. You, refugees—no matter where you came from, no matter how wealthy or powerful you once were, that was all in the past. Now, you are nothing but refugees. Without the protection of this city, Fuyuki, you would be nothing more than food for the monsters, demons, and cursed spirits roaming the wilderness!"
"I'm sure you've already seen what it's like out there on your way to Fuyuki."
Several faces in the crowd immediately darkened.
When they had first gathered in the wilderness, there had been over a hundred of them.
But on the road to Fuyuki, they were attacked by creatures unlike anything they'd ever encountered. Massive beasts, as though bred for slaughter, easily overpowered even firearms. More than a dozen refugees had been devoured on the spot.
They had endured hours of sheer terror, their nerves frayed, until the sound of gunfire signaled the arrival of a rescue squad. The beasts were driven off, leaving behind only mangled remains and the stench of fear.
Many among them had witnessed the bloody carnage firsthand, and the mere thought of it now made their stomachs churn.
That attack had shattered their perception of reality.
Kanzaki, observing their subdued expressions, nodded in satisfaction.
"But you don't need to worry. At least within the walls of Fuyuki City, you are safe. You can live as you once did. However, never forget your status as refugees. It is we who have given you a place to survive. Without us, you wouldn't even have your lives. You've already been given more than enough, so don't be ungrateful and do anything rash, foolish, or impulsive. If you do, you'll face the consequences."
After his stern warning, no one dared speak up.
Even if some harbored resentment, the pressure from the armed soldiers kept them silent.
With the customary speech out of the way, Kanzaki clicked his tongue and began reviewing the forms in his hand.
The forms not only contained basic personal information—such as name and gender—but also asked for skills and previous occupations.
Kanzaki's attention was drawn to the latter section, particularly curious about their past professions.
"Students, convenience store clerks, novelists..." The more Kanzaki read, the deeper his frown became.
Someone had even written that their specialty was playing video games—specifically galgames. Kanzaki's eyebrows twitched in frustration.
In a world like this, they needed highly skilled professionals, people who could contribute meaningfully. What use was playing video games?
Especially galgames.[T/N: It's bishoujo games.]
What a joke!
After reading through the thick stack of papers, Kanzaki still hadn't found a single useful candidate.
Rubbing his temples, he clicked his tongue in disdain.
"Why did I even expect anything from you refugees? Anyway, you all have two choices. One is to become miners or farmers. You'll be provided with three meals a day, but no pay. After working a certain number of years, you can transition from refugee status to civilian status. The other option is to become a servant—"
"Oh, there's one more option."
Before he could finish, a voice cut in from the entrance.
A man stepped into the hall. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with tanned skin, blonde hair, and the distinct features of someone of Middle Eastern descent. Handsome, with a confident stride, he spoke slowly and deliberately, as though expecting his words to be heeded without question.
"Who's in charge here? I need two servants."
As the young man sauntered in, his eyes swept across the room, scanning the refugees with the same detached indifference one might show when inspecting merchandise. There was no trace of emotion in his gaze.
Kanzaki's eyes landed on the badge pinned to the man's vest, a black tag inscribed with the characters "Kai Wei"
The moment he saw the badge, Kanzaki's demeanor shifted. He quickly straightened up and offered a respectful bow, as though a soldier had just encountered his commanding officer.
"Sir, you have the right to choose two servants this month. This group of refugees has just completed registration. Feel free to make your selection."
"Good."
The man acknowledged him with a casual nod and resumed his cold appraisal of the refugees.
After a brief survey of the room, his gaze settled on two figures.
"Didn't expect to find something decent in this batch of refugees. I'll take that woman, and that man over there."
He snapped his fingers with a sharp, smug grin, his hand gesturing toward his chosen targets.
Following his direction, Kanzaki glanced over at the two individuals.
One was a burly man, his eyes dark and brooding, exuding an air of danger.
The other was a young woman, no older than sixteen or seventeen. She wore a high school uniform, her long black hair cascading behind her, with a white headband resting on her forehead. She sat quietly, clutching the hem of her skirt.
Her face was smeared with dirt, her gaze lowered as if she was deliberately trying to make herself inconspicuous. It was hard to tell how beautiful she might be, but her curvy figure stood out. Her stockings were torn in several places, revealing smooth, pale skin. Several men nearby had their eyes glued to her.
"I understand. I'll arrange the paperwork for you."
Kanzaki nodded slightly and opened his ledger.
"Excuse me, but could I have that girl instead?"
At that moment, another figure strolled into the hall, smiling as he interrupted the conversation.
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