I Will Be The Crowned King

On the outskirts of Beluga Harbor, shooting the military camp.

In the external publicity reports of Newland Corporation, as well as various financial analysis reports for investors and equity parties, this is an extremely magical place:

Curtain walls, traps, bunkers, artillery forts... Countless defense facilities form an unbreakable curtain wall, surrounding a huge camp that covers an area of ​​hundreds of acres, dozens of high-hanging flags, towers equipped with beacons and forts, as staggered as towering ancient trees. During this period, the entire area was monitored.

Centered on a sturdy semi-permanent bastion, countless straight roads and trenches several meters deep form a two-dimensional traffic system, connecting this maze-like area; campsites, arsenals, shooting ranges, horse farms, headquarters , the logistics department, the teaching room, the prison... Like a huge beast lurking and lurking, it is connected to each other by roads, ditches, queues of patrolling soldiers, and heavy four-wheeled carriages.

Officers from the civilized world, dressed in neat and neat uniforms, with a revolver in one hand and a leather whip in the other, trained and nurtured in the strictest and most humane way those who had just left the Indigenous peoples of the wild world.

And these glorious "shooting army soldiers", equipped with similar equipment to the Clovis line infantry, only slightly inferior, wearing uniform clothes, eating simple but preserved fruit, living in a warm and comfortable collective In the camp, accept the all-round transformation from the inside out, from the outside to the inside.

There are also shooting training, regular walking code, belief transformation, and common sense teaching...Through short-term four-week fast training and three-month directional teaching, a shooting army soldier with excellent professional quality who fights for the ring of order is freshly released!

And this process is completely reproducible. As long as a steady stream of "recruits" are sent to this factory-like camp, they can quickly train and cultivate with standardized templates, which is not much more difficult than producing a pair of boots.

And the biggest feature of the shooting army is... cheap.

Very cheap, it can even be said to be extremely cheap... Their training costs are one-fourth of the Clovis line privates, less than half of the colonial militia, and the cost of maintaining a full infantry regiment of 600 people, and more. is only a third of the colonial militia.

And unlike the militia who "voluntarily join the army", as long as the commission is sufficient, the soldiers of the shooting army will work hard and bear no complaints, and it will definitely be worth the money. They will not let any of the employer's coins be wasted in vain, and they will definitely get what they pay for.

Super high cost performance + popular investment from all parties + Anson Bach's commitment to protection = a shooting army that turned out.

But if they calm down a little and think rationally, it is not difficult to find that there are countless contradictions in these propaganda and various financial statements.

For example, how can it be cheaper to train a native who has never received any common sense education to serve as a soldier than a militia; for example, even if the cost of soldiers’ meals and clothing can be reduced, weapons are still a huge expense that cannot be erased; for example To hire professional military officers even outweighs the cost of recruiting, acquiring and capturing indigenous peoples...

Including the "Shooting Army Headquarters" comparable to the southern fortress of Clovis in the propaganda, how much will it cost to build, and even whether it can be built in the lifetime of their investors is a question.

Obviously, these laymen can't think about it so much. Most of them may not consider visiting this "legendary military camp" that they spent a lot of money on in their lifetime.

For them, war is basically equivalent to the cold wind and ice and snow in winter, and the army is the fireplace for heating in winter - something that can be forgotten when it is used up, or thrown aside as a decoration.

Therefore, under the circumstances of bullying the laymen (all members of the Storm Division officer corps), collaborating with insiders (President Reinhard Roland), and completely opaque copywriting of various reports (Secretary Alan Dawn), he successfully obtained the investment from the staff. Anson Bach, who was able to get enough money, basically spent a fraction of the cost to build the shelf of the shooting army.

A three-story brick building, a dozen longhouses made of wooden planks and mud bricks, two warehouses repaired with canvas, a large circle of open space surrounded by fences, and dozens or hundreds of scattered pieces. A tent... It is the legendary military camp with luxurious style.

A total of more than 8,000, nearly 10,000 indigenous people who were recruited, plus less than 200 officers responsible for training and managing them, lived in this "barracks" not much different from a farm.

"Actually, this is a farm." Karl, who was biting a cigarette, shrugged:

"In the past, about half of the 'Juntun Farmstead' plan you started to deal with those farmers in Beluga Harbor was abandoned due to various reasons; after a few of us made a total of it, we simply used the waste and discarded the two. The farms were merged into one and transformed into the current barracks of the shooting army."

"Remodeling?"

Looking at the desolate "barracks" in front of him, which was not much better than the refugee camp, An Sen couldn't help twitching: "Are you sure it's not a demolition?"

"Oh? You actually saw it!" Carl tilted his head and accidentally blew out a smoke ring:

"Yes, this is what is left after the demolition - there should have been more than a dozen slatted houses, a workshop for repairing weapons, two bread ovens, a kitchen and a large canteen, four toilets and matching The biogas digester...but I didn't finish it in the end, so I let them dismantle it."

"……why?"

"Because I can't be busy at all, my brigadier general!"

The chief of staff complained angrily: "We have nearly 10,000 indigenous soldiers in total, but only 100 officers. On average, each person has to manage nearly 100 indigenous people. The workload is comparable to that of a prisoner-then They also have to do it themselves and build a military camp that can accommodate tens of thousands of people."

"Build it yourself?" Anson looked at him suspiciously: "Why not let the soldiers of the shooting army work, and the officers are responsible for supervising the work?"

Facing his gaze, Carl was silent for a few seconds: "...Are you kidding me?"

"At least two-thirds of the 10,000 natives are animal slaves who originally lived in the wild or who have started riots; more than half are still wearing flails and shackles, and then you plan to give each of them hammers and irons. nail?"

Anson: "..."

"Of course, if we have enough manpower, it's not impossible - but now the entire army is maintaining stability in the city, and we have to prepare for expansion. It is not realistic to assign troops to be responsible for the shooting army, so we can only simplify everything."

Keep everything simple... but it's too "simple".

Anson, who couldn't help but complain, looked around at the unobstructed surroundings, and followed Carl to the only landmark building with more than three floors in the barracks, which was the headquarters.

Before they approached the main entrance, the Storm Division line infantry guarding the periphery had already spotted their figures in advance, and raised their guns in a uniform salute.

"Captain Marcus, the second-line private company commander of the 1st Battalion of the 2nd Infantry Regiment, salutes you!"

"Commander-in-chief of the Colonial Storm Legion, Brigadier General Anson, salutes you."

An Sen who stopped in his footsteps raised his right hand and bowed to the company commander who was beating his chest with a vertical spear: "What about your commander?"

"Headquarters, with the officers of the shooting corps." Captain Marcus said:

"Do I need to inform you?"

"No, thanks."

Anson waved his hand: "Don't tell them I've arrived, just pretend that nothing happened, just continue patrolling - I'm going to walk around the barracks and find them later."

"Yes!"

Marcus nodded vigorously and left the place with the company behind him.

Watching the infantry captain walk away, Carl, who was always silent, looked at Anson who was looking around, frowning slightly: "What's the matter, what's the problem?"

"You haven't noticed yet?" Anson said without turning his head:

"It's still morning, but the soldiers are nowhere to be seen in the entire barracks, and there is no trace of anyone moving around; from the barracks gate to the headquarters, only one company of the 2nd Infantry Regiment found it. We—don't you think that's suspicious?"

"I don't think so." Karl raised his eyebrows:

"What do you think?"

"I feel very... eh?!"

An Sen, who was just about to speak, suddenly realized something: "Isn't this suspicious enough?!"

"Uh... If you want to say a normal military camp, it should be, but this is the camp of the shooting army." Carl explained patiently:

"I just said that more than half of the nearly 10,000 soldiers in your 'shooting army' have just been captured. Do you need me to continue?"

"...I'm afraid you have to go into more detail."

For a moment, Anson could hardly resist the urge to pull the trigger.

"You also know that these 'beast slaves' or indigenous people are much stronger than the strong men in terms of resistance, so they have basically not been fed to them since they were captured, plus their previous living environment. , each one is as hungry as a layer of firewood."

Carl showed a look of recollection and said briskly: "So after they brought them back to the military camp, they didn't dare to let them have too much labor, so they could only eat first, eat desperately, and eat from morning to night— Fortunately, their appetite is not large, and they are not very picky eaters, otherwise suddenly there will be 10,000 more mouths, and the Legion's reserves this year are still quite dangerous."

"But it's not completely without benefits... From morning to night, there are two full meals, bread, hot soup, and warm accommodation. Many soldiers of the shooting army not only do not want to run, they even plan to swear to you, the commander-in-chief. Allegiance."

"According to their current physical fitness, I think they should be able to start normal military training after another week of eating according to the current standard, and there will be no large-scale attrition."

"So so far they haven't done anything except... rest?" Anson was a little bit incredulous: "Didn't the colonists in the surrounding farms notice that this military camp is particularly unusual?"

"That's not quite the case. We recruited volunteers from the Faithful Alliance to baptize them, teach them the belief in the Ring of Order and some common sense, and let them let loose every evening."

Carl threw his pipe on the ground and stomped it out with his foot: "As for being noticed... I think they may have always regarded this place as an abandoned farm, but they didn't realize that it was actually a military camp."

Although this answer is just as outrageous as the previous ones, but I don't know if it's more provocative. Anson has no doubts about this at all, and even has a hint of kindness.

The reason is also very simple. When he was training the Storm Regiment in Clovis City, he also did something similar - disguising the military camp as an abandoned factory; but this time, there was no need for disguise at all, and it was already perfect. Can't see it anymore.

With this familiarity and nostalgia, the two pushed the door and walked into the headquarters - or the officers' dormitory of the shooting army.

Also out of the consideration of saving manpower and financial resources, the Shooting Army did not build special dormitories or residences for the officers; plus the winter is coming, there are only 100 officers in total, and all of them live in the headquarters just to fill all the room, and even this saves a lot of fuel.

As for this result, Anson is basically numb... After all, a powerful army cannot be built overnight. As long as the shooting army can complete the mission of making money and expanding for himself, he will no longer ask for anything.

It was almost noon, and when the two entered the headquarters, the hall was already full of people. The officers sat around the long table according to their duties. Alexei, who arrived an hour earlier, stood in the corner and looked anxiously. as if waiting for something.

Just as Anson entered the door, the commander of the Second Infantry stepped forward involuntarily~www.wuxiamtl.com~ excitedly said:

"Commander-in-chief, something happened!"

"I just asked the officers of the shooting corps to gather, but the commander Joseph, the highest-ranking officer in the army, did not show up for a long time; until an officer who lived in the same room as me told me that he had not shown up for almost a week!"

Anson's pupils shrank suddenly, and he calmly pressed Alexei's shoulder:

"You mean he disappeared?"

"It should be more than just disappearing." Alexey shook his head, trying his best to restrain his excitement:

"During the absence of Chief of Staff Carl Bain, Chief Joseph has been the top commander of the shooting corps; I just found more than a dozen shackles that were obviously indigenous people under the bed in his room!"

"This is just a guess, but he probably secretly controlled a group of shooting army soldiers to work for him!"

"Also, it was the officer who was still in his room who told me that around the day you were assassinated, Colonel Fabien had come to the firing camp once and had a private conversation with Joseph—but because Fabien was a Commander of the Grenadiers, Joseph was the highest commander of the shooting corps at that time, so no one doubted it."

"I-I'm not going to accuse my colleagues, but if Fabienne him, he..."

"Okay, stop here, don't say any more."

Softly interrupted Alexei, whose face was getting more and more ugly, Anson remained silent for a few seconds, and after a long time, he asked the next question:

"Fabian, where is he now?"