Because the war had brought devastation to the small village outskirts, and the uneven dirt road at the street corner was anything but smooth, a tank slowly rolled its tracks, finally stopping at the corner.
The soldiers sitting on Tank No. 4 started hopping off after the tank came to a stop, carrying Thompson submachine guns, their boots thudding dully against the ground.
Afterward, one by one, the soldiers in the trucks parked behind this tank also climbed out of the vehicle, beginning to sort out their weapons.
"Everyone knows the mission, right?" the leading officer asked his assembled subordinates in a hoarse voice.
"Understood!" all the soldiers answered in unison.
"Then move out! The target must be eliminated!" the officer glanced at his watch, raised his head, and gave a forward wave of his hand.
All the soldiers started sprinting forward, their orderly footsteps rustling pleasingly. On the village road, an early-rising farmer who had just stepped out with a hoe was startled by the appearance of these soldiers at his doorstep.
"I’m a good person!" he swallowed his saliva and said to the Tang Army soldier wearing an M35 helmet who passed by him.
"It’s okay, sir! We’re here to arrest Zhang Jia, the criminal oppressing the peasants," the officer leading the team paused, smiling as he spoke with his hand on the pistol at his waist.
"His house is over there!" Upon hearing that they were there to arrest that scoundrel landlord, the farmer immediately pointed out the direction.
The leading officer smiled and tilted his head slightly, adjusting the brim of his cap with a hand: "It seems we have the right person."
"You should have come earlier! That bastard has done far too many bad things," the farmer said excitedly: "You won’t let him go again, will you?"
"No... he’s as good as dead." The officer’s hand resting on the holster of his M1911 pistol lightly patted it. He was still smiling, hardly looking like someone about to kill.
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"Really?" The farmer was not scared but rather seemed quite excited. He looked toward the direction the troops were heading and set down the hoe on his shoulder: "Shall I take you to him?"
"No need, there might be a gunfight over there shortly, and it could get very dangerous. This is a military operation," the officer waved his hand, declining the farmer’s offer: "Starting tomorrow, the civilian official will take over here, and everything will have to go through legal channels. It won’t be easy for us to act then."
He paused before continuing to explain: "That’s why we came over to get the job done today."
While they were talking, the troops had already blocked the gate of the landlord’s house, a few men knocking on the door. As the household servant opened it, a dozen soldiers rushed in, storming into the sizable estate.
"You should have come earlier, much earlier. If you had come a few years ago, many in the village, including my father, wouldn’t have died," the farmer said, his eyes reddened, as he watched the soldiers enter the yard and spoke to the officer beside him.
"Who are you?" someone in the yard shouted loudly, but his question was answered with a crisp gunshot. Subsequently, all the villagers came out to watch the excitement, pointing at the landlord’s courtyard where the gunshots continued.
However, it was clear that the villagers were not panicked; they didn’t scatter and run. Since the gunfire was erupting in the landlord’s home, they even seemed a bit gleeful.
"Help! I surrender! I surrender!" Soon after, another voice shouted loudly, followed by the wailing and crying of women, coming through intermittently.
An off-road vehicle came bouncing down the road at breakneck speed, passing the tank parked at the village entrance and driving up to where the officer stood before screeching to a halt.
The car door was pushed open, and a young man jumped out. He wasn’t wearing a uniform but rather a set of clothes similar to a Zhongshan suit, with the jacket long enough to cover his thighs.
He was so hasty in jumping out of the car that he even sprained his foot, walking up to the officer with a limp, angrily challenging: "Has your military gone mad?"
"Our military? Gone mad?" The officer looked at the slightly limping man before him, feigning confusion as he retorted: "Why would you ask that?"
"I’m the civilian official here! You can’t just slaughter any civilians here!" the young man pointed to his chest, rebuking loudly.
Carelessly taking a cigarette from his pocket, the officer put it to his lips. Then with a flick, he opened his lighter, shielding the flame with his hand to light the cigarette, exhaling a puff of smoke.
He snapped the lighter closed after a click and, with the cigarette clamped between his lips, took a couple of deep drags before speaking through the swirling smoke: "You’ll officially take over here tomorrow. Right now, it’s still a war zone here, still under the jurisdiction of the stationed troops, which is us, the battalion! Understand?"
"That’s sophistry! Do you even know what you’re doing? I want you to explain to me, what exactly—you—are—doing—now!" the young man pointed toward the direction from where the gunshots were still sounding, questioning sharply, emphasizing each word.
"This is a military operation... Military operations are classified, and civil departments have no authority to inquire," the officer raised his shield.
"You! As the already appointed local civil officer, I now demand that you explain the undisciplined act of slaughtering civilians!" The young man continued relentlessly while flexing his ankles.
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"Well, since you asked, we suspected there were rebels in this village plotting to attack the soon-to-be-appointed civil officer here," the military officer explained, flicking ash from his cigarette as he looked at the young man.
"Me? You’re saying Zhang Jia’s entire family plotted to assassinate me?" The young man’s face showed disbelief, yet he was powerless to contest it.
He had the authority to demand that the military produce evidence, but that process was rather troublesome. By the time the military arranged for witnesses and forged evidence, perhaps a year later, his application process might still not be completed.
Though the Great Tang Group was swift and decisive in almost all matters, some procedures were as slow as a group of office sloths.
It wasn’t a deliberate delay; it was just that there were too few clerical workers, the department was not that important, nor was it given importance—in short…there were no people, no resources, and no time…
This was really a matter of helplessness, because everyone was needed everywhere; there were vacancies everywhere, and everywhere was developing and expanding. It was normal for some departments to fall behind the pace.
"Yes, we received a report that they were hiding guns and harboring assassins," the officer said earnestly.
"I... This is Qi Country! You could find some guns for self-defense in almost any landlord’s or rich noble’s house! They have house guards to protect their property, which is what you call assassins!" The young man knew such things all too well.
This was framing! This was the reckless taking of lives.
"For the military, any threat... even a potential threat, must be thoroughly eradicated," the officer’s gaze became sharp as he earnestly said, "We don’t take risks. We don’t gamble the lives of our own people on the idea that ’the other side is safe.’"
"To us, if they have guns and are unwilling to cooperate, those are already reasons enough for elimination." He put the cigarette in his mouth, inhaled deeply once more, and the cigarette quickly turned to ashes, the burning tobacco glowing red.
"But it’s still the reckless taking of lives, and tomorrow... this place will be removed from wartime control and become a safe zone." The young man looked at the officer, "What you’re doing is a classic case of military interference in local affairs."
"I wouldn’t dare do that, don’t put a hat on me," the officer quickly denied, "and this is for your own good, don’t take it the wrong way."
"You kill my people the day before I take office, and you say it’s for me..." The young civil officer couldn’t continue halfway through his sentence.
He lifted his head and gazed at the officer for a long time without speaking.
The sound of gunshots in the distance gradually subsided, and the landlord Zhang Jia’s family, who had lorded over the area for decades, were all killed without a single survivor.
It was decided by the military that the landlord’s gold coins would be confiscated, but because of time constraints, they could only be left to the local civil officer. The rest, including furniture, clothes, utensils, and food, had been distributed to all the civilians in the village that day.
The land owned by the landlord was distributed by the civil officer to civilians lacking the means of production; frankly, this was tantamount to another wealth redistribution.
But the military’s intentions were not so simple. If it were just about killing these old nobles of Qi Country and dividing their wealth, the military might not deign to do so.
In fact, such events were unfolding on a large scale within Qi Country’s territory. Almost all the soldiers stationed by the military left their barracks and once again made a show of force in the villages of the occupied areas of Qi Country, brutally eliminating the country’s old nobles, landlords, and tyrants...
"Understand now?" The officer threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with his foot.
The young civil officer sighed, "You killed people just to provide me with some startup capital?"
"Ha! You wish it were that beautiful!" The officer scoffed, "That’s the least important objective!"
He became serious, staring at the young man, "You only have one life, and we risk ours enough; you still have a good life ahead of you... Do you remember what I said? Even potential threats must be eliminated! We don’t want another Sun Ze to arise; you, and all the civil officers, need to stay alive. That’s the second objective, understood?"
Having said that, he stood at attention and saluted, "Of course, killing these uncooperative people, allowing His Majesty’s decrees to be executed more accurately, more loyally, faster... that’s the ultimate purpose."
Glancing at the courtyard of the landlord’s house not far away, the young civil officer twisted his ankles again, and the pain returned, "Got a cig?"
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My waist hurts a lot, writing is very slow, I can only maintain two updates, please forgive me...