Chapter 27: Purburg’s Grim Reality

Bright sunlight streamed into the room, lending a subtly soothing ambiance to the hospital ward, which was otherwise dominated by the sterile scents of disinfectant and gauze.

Yuli, holding a bouquet of pink lilies, smiled as she handed them to Fran.

“Congratulations, Fran! You’re finally being discharged today and heading to the mansion.”

“Uh… mhm.”

Fran took the flowers, his gaze falling upon the large contingent of Teuton soldiers standing behind Yuli. He involuntarily recoiled, a hint of fear flickering in his eyes.

‘What is this? With such an entourage, Yuli looks more like a mob boss leading her crew.’

Fran offered an awkward smile and nodded. Seeing that the hospital staff had already helped Fran change, Yuli stepped forward and carefully helped him to his feet.

“Be careful. Does it still hurt?” Yuli asked tenderly.

Fran shook his head, replying softly, “I’m mostly recovered. It wasn’t a critical area that was hit anyway.”

“Even so, you still need to rest up properly,” Yuli insisted, gently stroking Fran’s head.

Once Fran had put on his shoes, Yuli took his hand. The intelligence personnel behind them parted, creating a path, and together, they exited the hospital.

****

Arriving at the hospital entrance, Lyon opened the car door. Yuli settled Fran into the back seat before taking the passenger seat herself, and the convoy slowly began to move.

As the black sedan glided along the road, Fran gazed out the window. This was his first glimpse of the outside world since he had been admitted to the hospital.

Confined to his ward, he had only been able to watch the solitary tree outside his window. The monotonous scenery had bored him to the point of counting its branches.

He had yearned so deeply for the world beyond, wishing to escape the hospital, breathe fresh air, and promptly report his current situation to his teacher.

Yet…

He sighed, shifting his thoughts back to the view outside the car window.

Regrettably, the outside world was far from pleasant; it was even more oppressive than the hospital room. Just like the ward, it was silent, eerie, and permeated with a suffocating atmosphere.

Fran could only discern the roar of the car’s engine and the whistling wind outside.

He sighed again. The oppressive feeling in the hospital ward stemmed from its cramped confines, but the oppression on the streets of Purburg was due to…

He shook his head, continuing to observe the exterior. The car maintained a steady speed, and the desolate scenery outside the window constantly shifted until Fran noticed construction materials and rebar frames piled by the roadside, a faint sense of confusion rising within him.

Yuli’s face flushed, and she periodically glanced back at Fran.

‘Ugh, I really wanted to sit with Fran. But damn it, Lyon is driving; he’s the deputy station chief. If I didn’t sit in the passenger seat, it would make him look like a mere chauffeur, which wouldn’t be good for appearances.’

‘But Yuli really wants to sit with Fran…’

She had been observing Fran, but it seemed… Fran wasn’t paying much attention to her.

‘What is that little sweetheart looking at?’ Yuli pouted, slightly displeased that Fran’s attention wasn’t on her, yet her curiosity was piqued. Following his gaze, she wanted to see what the young man was so engrossed in.

Then, she too noticed the skeletal structures of buildings.

“Speaking of which…” Yuli began slowly.

“Are all these construction frames lining the roadsides meant for building bunkers? There’s been a sudden surge of them recently…”

“Heh…” Lyon, gripping the steering wheel, offered an awkward laugh and nodded. “Yes! *Pfft*. Actually, this was an agenda item urgently approved by the Army Garrison Department after your incident, Sister Yuli. See how much influence you have on Purburg.”

“Alright, stop teasing me,” Yuli grumbled, turning her head away in annoyance.

Lyon, meanwhile, couldn’t help but let out a triumphant snort of laughter from beside her.

He adjusted a lever, lightly pressed the accelerator, and continued to explain:

“However, these bunkers are primarily being built to enforce Purburg’s curfew policy, guarding against guerrillas or potential civilian uprisings. As for other uses… perhaps they might be somewhat useful if the Bretons attempt a cross-sea landing?”

“Ha. If they could really launch an attack, Purburg City wouldn’t be defended by just these bunkers,” Yuli added flatly.

“They might still be of some use, though…” Lyon interjected awkwardly.

****

The sedan soon approached the intelligence station’s mansion, and Fran noticed that the frequency of bunkers along both sides of the street intensified significantly here.

In some areas, the fortifications were already complete. These sturdy steel structures featured windows of varying sizes, their ominous, cold hues starkly contrasting with the seemingly vibrant residential buildings nearby.

Fran could even envision the silent nights, countless powerful beams from the bunkers’ searchlights sweeping across the darkness, relentlessly seeking out suspicious figures.

From any of the dark openings, a gun barrel could emerge at any moment, aiming downwards. A single shot, and Death would claim a life.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Undoubtedly, this would become the nightmare of Purburg’s people.

Fran sighed, listening as Lyon, who was driving, continued his narrative.

“Have you heard, Sister Yuli? Apparently…”

Before Lyon could finish, he suddenly recalled something and turned to cast a wary glance at Fran.

Fran had indeed been paying attention to their conversation, but Lyon’s sudden turn made him realize that this deputy station chief, Lyon, still harbored a strong sense of caution towards him.

‘A troublesome fellow.’

Yuli shot a look at Lyon, then shook her head. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Fran is one of us. Just continue.”

“This…” Lyon hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, continuing in a hushed tone: “Sister Yuli, I hear that Purburg seems to be preparing for a landing in Brittany.”

“Mhm…” Yuli nodded, clearly already aware of the news. However, she didn’t appear particularly excited.

On the contrary, her brows were furrowed, subtly revealing her lingering concern for the front-line situation, despite no longer being a field commander.

“It might not be so easy,” Yuli said, shaking her head. “Attacking Brittany isn’t as simple as our campaigns to the east, the Lowlands, or Francian territory. After all, there’s a strait separating us. If our air force and navy can’t secure an advantage, it will be very difficult…”

“Indeed,” Lyon nodded, thoughtfully. “However, I doubt the Bretons will be able to launch an attack themselves. We’ll just have to wear each other down. At least our bunkers are built, but…”

Lyon blinked, then continued, “I’ve heard that, besides building bunkers, the Garrison Department has proposed a new plan to deal with the increasing number of rebel organizations.”

“Oh?” Yuli tilted her head. “What kind of plan?”

“Those old-timers at the Garrison Department are planning to bring back a few officials from the Francian government, who had relocated south, to Purburg City. It’s merely for show, to save face. Military rule seems to be losing its grip, so they’ll form a superficial government. This is intended to keep the Francians in Purburg City docile.”

“This…” Yuli pondered for a moment. “It won’t affect us, will it?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a puppet government. The Teutons will still be in charge,” Lyon quickly clarified. “Hasn’t the unrest in Purburg’s outskirts been getting worse recently?”

“Mhm… Ha, Lyon, if the Garrison Department would simply enforce military discipline more strictly, or perhaps reduce the troop presence appropriately, it would probably be far more effective than all these superficial gestures.”

Yuli commented, clearly annoyed. Lyon could only offer an awkward smile. Who could argue with that?

Only…

“Sister Yuli, it’s much easier to manage ten thousand troops than a hundred thousand…”