The Strategic Regiment is one of the core organizations of the Federation. Naturally, there are soldiers on duty 24 hours a day. In addition to routine inspections of people entering and exiting, they must always be alert to various signs of "unintentional" invasion and report them in a timely manner.
Dak and Wovya did not enter directly through the iron gate. Instead, they chose to walk to the side door for internal personnel to enter and exit, and pressed the red plastic button to call the person on duty.
The uncomfortable sizzling sound was accompanied by a network of blue light emitting around the button, making the originally dark little house next to the door instantly brighter.
Not long after, the sound of mechanical metal running was heard, and the iron door made of thick steel plates was slowly opened, and a black-haired young man wearing a messy dark green uniform of the federal army, holding a military cap in his hand, and looking tired came over.
After yawning heavily and stretching, he reluctantly asked:
"Are you participating in the 'Military Strategy Study'?"
"Well, yes." Dak and Wulfya said at the same time, nodding slightly to show courtesy.
"You guys are so early." The young man on duty said in a strange tone:
"I can't tell you what you are here for or what your identity is. I have to believe it. Show your ID and the message sent to you by the strategic group. Otherwise, it won't work even if the federal chief executive comes."
"What does a little janitor think of himself?" Duck cursed in his heart:
"Didn't you ask us first? How come we are going to fake it? This tone... makes me want to go up and beat him up!"
Although I greeted the young man on duty hundreds of times in my heart, I couldn't help but maintain a smile and basic social etiquette when I handed over my "Federal Military Membership Card" and the message to participate in "Military Strategy Study".
Taking the certificate, the young man on duty looked through it casually a few times, then threw it back. Still yawning, with his eyes lowered, he pointed sleepily to the ten-story building behind him where the strategic regiment was stationed, and said as he walked back:
"Behind the office building is the accommodation area. You arrived too late, so you can only live on the underground floors. Ha... It's Christmas soon. The leaders of the strategic group are not here, and many other people... many people have gone to the business district to celebrate the holidays.
, it will be very deserted, and there will be no one to take care of the food. If it is inconvenient, you'd better... take care of it yourself. However, the old man on duty on the first floor hasn't left yet, so let him... take you down."
Holding down Wovya's veiny arm, Dak also suppressed the urge to hit someone in his heart, rolled his eyes at the young man, and walked with Wovya towards the accommodation area along the cement road.
Most of the time, winter in Crusted is bitterly cold. Even after the coldest winter solstice, the cold wind and the breath of frost condensed in the air made Duck almost tremble, and he was unwilling to stay outside for a second.
.
Fortunately, the door to the strategic group's accommodation area is open all year round, at least on the first floor, where there is still a slight dim light.
After opening the iron door and walking inside, Dak and Wulfya chose to walk towards the only room with light. A few seconds later, Dak breathed a sigh of relief when he looked at the door number with the words "Guard Duty Room", bent his two fingers, and knocked softly.
Door.
When, when.
"Here we come." A thick but slightly old voice came from the door.
The heavy footsteps, like the servants of an unknown ancient god in the dark sea, were heard. After a few seconds, the wooden door of the "guard duty room" slowly opened with a creak, and an old but majestic face appeared.
In the eyes of two people.
Just glancing at the two of them, the old man seemed to understand everything about them in an instant. He slowly moved his inflexible right leg and walked towards the shabby red leather sofa and said:
"Come in, you two, you're really late."
"Well, I'm really sorry. It was too late when I received the order to study." Duck apologized and pulled Brett into this small room.
As soon as he entered, a warm breath hit his face. In an instant, Duck felt like he had walked from the cold purgatory to the warm heaven.
"Let's put things away for one night. At this time, I don't think you have the energy to pack them up. Don't worry, most of the others have gone to Christmas. The one who is left behind is a kid who likes technology. He stays in the dormitory all day long.
You tinker with machinery and don’t even have time to eat. Let me, a bad old man, keep it for you so that it won’t be lost.” The old man sat upright and pointed at the luggage on Wovya’s body.
"Oh, okay, thank you." Wofya thanked him in a rare soft voice. After groping for a while, he found an open space in the messy room and threw down their heavy backpacks.
"Is it very dark?" the old man asked with a smile, and then he fumbled for the switch behind him. After a "pop" sound, the whole room was filled with incandescent light.
"After living in this boring wasteland world for a long time, I dislike light even more. To say 'dislike' is actually not accurate. It should be 'fear' of it." The old man smiled and asked Duck and the two to sit down.
"Why do you hate light?" Dak asked puzzledly and looked at the old man.
"The longer a person lives in the darkness, the more he is assimilated by it. Its changes in you are subtle. Maybe at first, you just occasionally couldn't adapt and shed tears when you saw the dazzling light. But the longer it goes, the more you
The lower your tolerance to light, on the contrary, the closer you are to the dark world, the more you will like it from the bottom of your heart, as well as the 'sense of loneliness' it creates and the 'wonderful feeling' of the weak candlelight being shrouded in darkness." The old man
As he spoke, he kept rubbing his dry eyes.
Duck originally wanted to discuss this philosophical issue, but after experiencing the battle with the Lost One and traveling for most of the day, his body felt really tired, so he simply did not speak.
This weird old man seemed to have little interest in his arguments. He sighed slightly, stood up while holding on to the wall, moved to the red table, and sat down.
"I know you may not be interested in philosophy, but if I had understood these principles earlier, I wouldn't be where I am today. A life of struggle may be painful, or it may be interesting. Okay,
Give me your ID and I'll register it. But you have to wait for a while, I write very slowly." The old man smiled helplessly.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! After taking the IDs of the two people, the old man fumbled for a pair of glasses, took out a pen, and started to register.
It was at this time that Duck turned his attention to the old man and the surrounding environment.
The old man's age is estimated to be over 60 years old. This age is really rare in the Federation in the Wasteland Era. After all, worthless old people over 50 years old will be driven by the Federation to a remote stronghold in the extreme cold field to spend the rest of their lives, unless
Factory owners who control large amounts of resources, or people who have made outstanding contributions to the Federation.
Although the old man is a bit stooped due to his age, in the writing room, it is not difficult for Duck to see that he is straightening his chest as much as possible, giving him a vague sense of majesty. His eyes are dark, his gaze is sharp, his nose is high, and his complexion is yellowish, slightly...
He is thin, but overall he is pretty straight. His face is covered with wrinkles and scars, the largest one covering his entire left eye, as if the entire skin has been torn off.
If Dak remembers correctly, the military uniform he is wearing should be an old style from forty years ago, but the whole thing is old, with wrinkles everywhere, and the color is much duller. Dak, who has some understanding of the power of magic, can vaguely
He felt an unclear energy rising and falling in the old man's chest, but in just a second, that subtle feeling dissipated without a trace.
Standing up and observing the room, apart from their luggage, there was an old desk, a bed covered with dirt, a row of sofas, small mechanical parts, temporarily stored supplies and a working fireplace. The reddish color emanated from it.
The light made Dak feel a sudden sense of power.
Looking towards the wall, on the dark yellow background is a portrait of Yin Fan 22 of the Krusted Empire, as well as a portrait of the former federal administrator, Viking Vladimir, known as the "Pioneer"
photo.
Other than that, there is just a worn-out pure black curtain, which seems to be hiding something that does not exist behind the solid wall.
After about four or five minutes, the old man put the pen aside, closed the registration book, stood up, and handed over his ID, the two keys he took out from the drawer, and the two newly filled-in "Military Control Area Second Class Passes"
Two people.
"Although everyone is gone now, you came too late after all. Only '-317' and '-318' on the edge of the negative third floor can still be used. It is very dark there, and there is a lot of smoke and dust in the corridor, so you have to clean it yourself. But the room furnishings are all
It's new, you can use it in the bathroom, and the electricity is enough, so you don't have to pay. If you want to eat, you can go to the market on the edge of the 'military control zone' to buy it, and go to the kitchen on the first floor to cook it yourself and take it back to eat.
, not only is it very expensive to go to a restaurant, but it also cannot be reimbursed. After all, the canteen will not be open until a week after Christmas." The old man asked:
"Of course, it's a good idea to go to the center of the capital if you have time. There will be fireworks shows during the Christmas holidays. This pass will ensure that you can pass freely in the non-restricted areas of the 'arms control zone'. I think the boy at the door must
I’m giving you a hard time, there’s nothing I can do about it, his uncle is the director of the mechanical group of the Strategic Regiment. With this, he won’t dare to stop you anymore.”
After briefly thanking each other and receiving their certificates, the two walked out of the "duty room" which had returned to a dim state. With their powerful night vision abilities, they found their respective rooms without much effort.
After a few simple instructions, the two entered their respective rooms.
As soon as he entered the door, Duck groped for the switch on the wall. After turning on the electric light, he looked around and examined where he would live for some time to come.
The old man was right, everything in the room was brand new.
One bedroom, one bathroom, and a small "workroom", not too spacious nor too small.
The room only had a small window high up, which seemed to be connected to a vent.
The entire wall is covered with a layer of pastel-toned wallpaper. In addition to a single bed, there is a glass table, a sofa and a writing desk in the bedroom, on which pen holders, folders, and storage boxes are thoughtfully placed.
and notebooks. It seems that the Federation really wants them to receive military training and "learn a lot."
This bedroom seems to have the functions of a living room and a study.
The exhausted Dak didn't have time to check the other rooms, took off his smelly combat uniform, and wearing only a close-fitting cheap shirt, he threw himself on the bed and fell asleep.
As he gradually fell into a deep sleep, Duck seemed to hear the sound of growing plants and the crackling sound of burning. He felt that his body was getting heavier, as if he was being pressed against countless rocks.
In his ecstasy, he felt that the space around him seemed to be getting brighter, and a bright red light like wine reflected in the red sun gradually took over his senses.