This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 493.1: Airship From Triumphant City!

In the plaza in front of the castle.

From the tower above the main gate, one could see the place packed with people. It was an endless sea of heads. Even the roads leading to the plaza were jammed to the point that not a drop of water could pass through.

Since the Wartime Act had been enacted, such spontaneous mass gatherings of civilians hadn't occurred in a long time.

Everyone had been afraid of getting conscripted, or worse, being caught as a spy by Count Kernway, the king’s appointed enforcer. It was only now that the war had ended that people finally dared to wander the streets again.

Looking at the gallows in the center of the plaza, the crowd murmured excitedly among themselves, gossiping about rumors heard from others.

“Did you hear? Martiner’s been sentenced to the gallows.”

“He’s a baron, right?”

“I remember the entire Hunt family was killed by him.”

“Their youngest daughter was so sweet... unfortunately, that scumbag took a liking to her.”

“Poor Hunt. I heard his eldest son died outside the City of Abundance. He was burned so badly there wasn't even a body left. And during the retreat, he lost an arm, too bad he didn’t just die on the battlefield.”

“They were from the Second Division, right? That was a tragedy.”

“... In the end, it was the enemy who avenged him.”

“Pah! That bastard Martiner! I remember him! My wife was...” A thin man spat on the ground, cursing, but cut himself off halfway. The people around him perked up at his words, looking at him with both sympathy and curiosity.

“And?”

“Tell us!”

The man’s face turned red from the attention. Annoyed, he finally snapped with a curse and drove off the onlookers. “Mind your damn business!”

Near the gallows, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, the long-awaited main characters finally made an appearance.

Five nobles, held up as examples by the New Alliance soldiers, were shoved up onto the gallows by an enraged crowd of civilians.

Faced with unavoidable death, even the fiercest of them turned pale and their lips trembled uncontrollably. One baron shut his eyes tight, while the man beside him was so frightened he wet his pants, the stench seeping from his trouser leg causing even the executioner to frown in disgust.

The pitiful display of the five nobles caused an eruption of thrilled howls from the crowd.

They had never seen those dignified people reduced to such pathetic states. It was even more thrilling than watching crickets fight in the mud.

So these well-dressed aristocrats are afraid of death after all.

They weren’t as noble as they claimed to be. In the face of death, they begged and wept just like anyone else.

But no matter how they begged, the angry citizens had no intention of letting them go. Those were the same people who had sent their young men to the frontlines, who had offered their finest cattle and daughters to the army just to curry favor with the Wislanders. These nobles had dared not resist foreign rule, yet they turned all the suffering onto the innocent people.

Only five nobles? There are far too few of them!

With no rotten eggs or spoiled vegetables to throw, the crowd could only pick up stones from the ground to vent their hatred. To prevent the prisoners from being killed before the execution, the nearby militiamen had to step in and separate them from the crowd.

The executioner loudly listed their many crimes committed during the war, murder, arson, assault, rape, looting, offenses too vile to name.

Each crime that was listed only fueled the fury of the crowd.

“Kill them!”

“Chop their heads off!”

“Hang them from the streetlamps!”

“Quiet! Quiet! Let me speak!” A man in his thirties or forties dressed in linen clothes stepped forward to address the crowd. His name was Taut.

Before the Wartime Act, he had been a papermaker. Now, thanks to his literacy, he had been selected by New Alliance soldiers to serve as a representative of the Civilian Regulation Committee.

“Friends from River Valley Province taught us to stay civilized, even when dealing with jackals and hyenas. We must end their lives in a manner befitting civilized people!”

The mouths of the five nobles were stuffed so they couldn’t argue. Thick hemp ropes, wide as a bowl, were placed around their necks.

Taut turned to face the gallows and waved his right hand once. “Proceed with the execution!”

With the crowd roaring, the wooden boards dropped suddenly. The five nobles were hanged, necks snapping as they ended their wicked lives on the gallows.

“Long live the New Alliance!”

“Long live the Civilian Regulation Committee!”

“Well killed!”

A deafening cheer erupted from the crowd below.

Within that crowd, a few faces flickered with fear. Pale and trembling, they slipped away quietly.

In a mansion not far from the plaza, Count Kernway stood by the window, his hand gripping ledge as it shook uncontrollably.

The New Alliance had so far only executed those who committed crimes during the occupation. They had not started a bloodbath in the royal palace.

But what would happen after the New Alliance left? The armed mobs were already losing their minds. To enforce the mobilization laws, he had killed quite a few people for His Majesty the king.

His greatest fear was that those killings would come back to haunt him.

Behind him, the old butler whispered, “My lord, I suggest you leave the city for a while and lay low.”

His master had been one of the king’s closest aides, but at this juncture, being close to that old fool was a dangerous thing.

The New Alliance’s intentions were too unclear.

But their sudden move to arm the civilians and target nobles was certainly not a good sign.

Count Kernway said nothing. His eyes flickered with hesitation, but he finally gritted his teeth and made his decision. “I can’t leave.”

Seeing the butler’s surprised expression, the count paused before he continued, “Tomorrow at the latest, the Heart of Steel will arrive. The New Alliance’s Marshal, maybe even the administrator, could be on that airship.”

The king’s word meant nothing. If he wanted to survive, he had to curry favor with the new master. Otherwise, no matter where he ran, it would be pointless.

A hint of worry crept over the count’s face. The problem was, they knew too little about the New Alliance. Not even what their great leader liked...

...

After the executions, Taut instructed the armed young men to drag the bodies to the riverbank and bury them wherever they could.

If any family members came, the bodies would be handed over. But at such a sensitive time, even if they wanted to claim the corpses, they would have to wait.

Under the New Alliance’s guidance, the Falcon City Civilian Regulation Committee formed a new militia.

These militiamen were mostly young laborers from previous forced conscription rounds. They reported directly to the committee and were tasked with maintaining order in the city.

Staring at the slowly swaying ropes on the gallows, a chill crept down Taut’s back as his emotions settled.

Only then did he realize what the New Alliance had placed in his hands.

Killing those bastards felt satisfying. He hated them just as much as the other citizens did. But afterward, fear set in. The New Alliance couldn’t stay forever. What would happen if they left? Would the king spare him? Would the nobles?

“Stand up straight.” Seeing Taut’s pale face, Old White clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “You’ve got guns now. What’s there to fear?”

Taut forced a bitter smile. “It’s not about guns... Those people were nobles appointed by the king.”

“So what? Do you think they have superpowers or command a few divisions?” Old White shrugged. “The New Alliance has no kings, and we’re doing just fine.”

Taut and the other committee representatives were startled by such heretical talk, but on second thought... It kind of made sense.

They had guns. What was there to fear?

With that, they gripped their rifles tighter, as though clinging to their very lives.

Old White patted Taut’s NPC shoulder again with a smile. “From today on, you’re the head of the committee. Remember, even if one day we’re gone, you can’t hand this your position lightly. It’s not for us but for the oppressed people behind you. Don’t let them down.”

Taut nodded nervously. “I promise.”

Looking at the middle-aged man, Old White nodded in return.

They wouldn’t stay long. To the New Alliance, the Falcon Kingdom was too far away, so far that people there believed the administrator was some made-up bearded man.

In the end, people had to save themselves. All the New Alliance could do was plant a seed in their land.

What it would grow into... that was up to them.

...

The Civilian Regulation Committee was just a small episode following the New Alliance’s occupation of Falcon City. The Burning Corps, under their administrator’s orders, had done far more.

Every machine in the royal capital capable of producing seamless steel pipes or stamping shell casings had been destroyed. Any factories remotely linked to military production had been blown up and dismantled.

As for the craftsmen and engineers trained by the Falcon Kingdom... Well, killing them would be too harsh.

After speaking with Chu Guang, Old White decided to relocate these people to a new home, near Bist Town.

Coincidentally, Spring Water Commander had just arrived at the William Industrial Zone and unknowingly done something similar.

Within the William Industrial Zone.

Because the surrender broadcast had arrived earlier, by the time Spring Water Commander gathered three 100-man companies to advance, the local garrison had already disbanded.

The vast industrial zone was completely empty with not a single guard in sight.

Inside the First Royal Foundry.

The workers sat dazed by the workshop walls. Upon seeing New Alliance troops, they immediately squatted obediently on the ground.

Seeing their frightened faces, Factory Director Bowman rushed forward, smiling obsequiously. “Sirs... We’ve already surrendered.”

Spring Water Commander raised an eyebrow and shot him a look. “I know.”

That was news from the day before. He had seen it on the forums after logging off the night before. Eight whole divisions were now squatting outside Bist Town. All the building materials sent there had been used up.

Watching the soldiers rummaging through factory crates, Bowman’s smile turned to panic. With a helpless look, he asked, “Then... What are they doing?”

Before Spring Water Commander could respond, Darkest chimed in cheerfully, “We’re here to collect our spoils of war. Got a problem with that?”

The factory director looked flustered. “Spoils of war? Go rob some rich noblemen! What’s there to find in a factory?!”

Just then, Kakarot returned from a workshop.

“Found two rifle production lines. They are of full capacity and can make 300 rifles a day.”

“300?” Darkest raised an eyebrow. “That’s enough to arm a division in a month.”

“Close enough.” Spring Water Commander nodded and asked, “What about bullets and shells?”

Kakarot replied, “Ammo lines are here too. They can churn out 200,000 to 300,000 rounds a day. There’s also 100mm artillery and shells. Luckily they ran out of resources. If they’d ran with max production, the war could’ve lasted till next year.”

Spring Water Commander nodded in agreement. “Damn, this place is full of good stuff.”

Truth be told, those Wislander bastards might have treated outsiders like dirt, but they had supported their Falcon Kingdom puppets pretty well.

The industrial capabilities there clearly weren't made locally. Most of it had been shipped from the West Coast. There were steel mills, chemical plants, and the works.

Give them a couple of sulfur and iron mines, and they could’ve kept going for a while.

But unfortunately, reality had no redos.