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Outside Revival City, many soldiers had been on duty throughout the night.

At the very front, the officers in charge of the checkpoint were two lieutenant colonels.

“Last night, Landolf didn’t come back,” one of them said, “I don’t know whether he’s dead or if the governor detained him.”

“Did General Mondok get angry?” asked the other.

“No,” the first lieutenant colonel replied, “The General was actually quite pleased when he saw that the governor’s troops really had stopped outside.”

“Pleased? But Landolf is his own nephew.”

The former simply shrugged his shoulders, indicating that that was just the way things were.

“So cold-blooded, poor Landolf.”

While chatting idly, suddenly one of them stretched out his hand, pointing towards the faint morning fog on the outskirts: “What is that?”

The other looked in the direction of the outstretched hand.

It was not yet fully light, the visibility was obscured by morning fog, but he could still make out, vaguely, the figures of a few giants slowly approaching.

The two exchanged a glance; one retreated and blew his whistle, alerting all the soldiers at the checkpoint to be vigilant, while the other took aim with his gun into the thick fog and asked, “Who goes there?”

However, there was no response from within the fog. The figures approaching through the mist remained silent. Only after they drew somewhat closer could heavy footsteps be heard.

The sound of footsteps was somewhat abrupt; there had been no sound before, as if they were ghosts; and now, after being spotted, the sound was so distinct, so heavy, it was as if a war drum had been struck in their hearts.

He had already realized who was coming, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

Should he open fire? He didn’t dare!

First of all, he did not dare to take the responsibility for firing the first shot;

Second, and more importantly, considering his current situation, standing in front of the checkpoint without any cover, if he dared to fire the first shot, he’d be dead the next second.

But should he just do nothing?

Amid his dilemma, he noticed that the soldiers stationed behind him had prepared themselves following the reminder of the colleague with whom he had just spoken. Dozens of guns were aimed in this direction, which reassured him considerably.

He refocused his gaze towards the front and called out again.

“Who goes there? Please respond!”

This time, there was still no answer.

But as the footsteps drew closer, he could now faintly see the figures approaching.

The fiery red powered armor and the signature colossal stature undoubtedly marked their identity. The man they were escorting, though he had never seen him before, must surely be the governor.

As they walked closer and closer, the obstructing officer grew more and more nervous, his hands sweating on his weapon.

He couldn’t help but issue a third warning.

“Please halt, you are not permitted to pass!”

Still, there was no response, as if what approached were not living people, but a host of ghosts.

After the third warning was issued, the figures were very close.

He couldn’t help but turn his head back, looking to his companion, as if seeking guidance on what to do next. To his dismay, he found that his companion was also looking back at him, eyes revealing the same question.

According to the rules of the wasteland, when faced with such a situation, there would be no hesitation; one would just fire a salvo first. If the people were dead, they wouldn’t pose a threat anymore.

But here, regardless of political decorum, could the rifles in the soldiers’ hands be of any use against these steel-bodied adversaries?

What to do?

No one knew what to do.

Under hesitation, conflict, helplessness, enormous pressure, and intense nervousness, these checkpoint soldiers and officers simply allowed the star warriors and battle nuns, escorting the governor, to approach them.

The moment for a final decision had come.

The commanding officer, still not daring to give the order to fire, could not just let them pass either.

At last, gritting his teeth and bravely stepping in front of the advancing crowd, he stretched out his palm to the leading star warrior, making a halting gesture while saying:

“Halt! Ahead is forbid—”

There was a dull thud.

His head caved in.

The red-armored warrior at the front had no intention of stopping. When faced with an obstruction, he simply extended his hand as if swatting away a fly, his backhand striking the officer’s face.

The movement was too fast for the officer to react or dodge, and his head caved as if struck by a sledgehammer.

The splattered blood stained the vivid red armor, hardly noticeable.

His body slumped to the side, legs still twitching. Blood kept pouring from his misshapen head, quickly pooling into a large puddle.

No one cared, no one paid attention.

The Death Angel who struck the blow didn’t even alter the rhythm of his pace. Those who followed didn’t spare a glance to the side. Even the holy and merciful battle nuns were indifferent.

The commanding officer was dead, but the soldiers still did not dare to shoot, not even when a star warrior kicked Landolf aside.

Nor did anyone dare to block their path.

Like this, they simply let the governor’s procession pass.

The way behind, for Gu Hang and his companions, was also clear.

Although someone had died at the first checkpoint, the commotion wasn’t great. There were neither gunshots nor cannon fire, and many soldiers behind were completely unaware of what had happened, with a considerable number still asleep, undisturbed.

Under these circumstances, the 19 of them, including Gu Hang, strolled confidently down the street from the outer city to the inner city gate.

The outer city’s environment wasn’t great, haphazardly constructed with no planning—narrow alleys typical of densely populated slums. However, the main avenues extending from the gates leading to the inner city remained spacious.

The deliberately produced heaviness of the powered leg armor echoed far and wide. Many soldiers on duty, now awake, peeked out and saw them.

The imposing star warriors and the striking battle nuns were an awe-inspiring sight, further accentuating the governor’s distinguished aura under their protection.

Were such figures something these lowly soldiers could contend with?

No one dared think so.

At the same time, they felt more at ease in their hearts.

Before, General Mondok had firmly prohibited the governor from entering the city, even adopting a stance ready for a forceful confrontation. Thankfully, General Mondok had since changed his mind.

—Most of the soldiers in the rear were unaware of what had happened at the checkpoint. Seeing the governor’s procession moving arrogantly on the main road, they assumed it was normal, that the general had allowed them passage.

Otherwise, why wasn’t anyone shooting at them?