Chapter 135: The Grace Period Is Over

The natives' javelins had shafts made of slightly elastic softwood, with heads ground from hardwood, making them extremely sharp — skewering one or two adults was no problem at all.

Just as the javelin howled sharply toward Yang Er, the bandit, who had been running hunched over, suddenly moved as if springs were attached to his feet — without looking back, he lunged forward, pressed his right hand lightly on a corpse's head on the ground, twisted his whole body into an inelegant "dog sprawl" pose in midair, then landed softly; though his limbs had lost balance, the bandit still didn't fall, stumbling two steps before breaking into a sprint again, and within a few strides had run back to his own camp.

After the bandit ran back, he propped himself on his knees and began gasping for breath, the large birthmark on his face glowing purple-red — it seemed this trip had scared him badly.

Suddenly, a large hand pressed down on Yang Er's shoulder: "Clearly a tough man, yet you act like a coward. Come to the Marine Corps, I'll help straighten you out."

Yang Er looked up in shock, mouth half-open, staring at the Marine Corps Commander Qian before him — face smeared with camouflage paint, frame and neck twice as wide as his own — so frightened he couldn't speak.

Fortunately, his savior was right there; the moment that familiar neck-grabbing motion came, Yang Er knew it was the Abbot making a move. After being hauled behind someone, Yang Er still hadn't recovered from his fright when he heard Wei Yuan's cold, mocking voice: "Commander Qian, you cherish talent like life itself, eh? How about I recommend a couple to you tomorrow?"

The atmosphere turned a bit chilly; Commander Qian let out a "heh heh," his face, fully coated in camouflage grease, impossible to read as smiling or not.

Wei Yuan turned his head and pushed Yang Er toward Han Bo: "There's a reward for charging the formation — you light the fuse."

Han Bo, with a playful expression, extended the remote control in front of Yang Er and pointed to the yellow button on it: "Press it..."

Yang Er had no idea what trick the instructor was hiding up his sleeve; he only knew that the instructors always carried strange little boxes — walkie-talkies, cell phones, remote controls... and to this day, none of the Ming people had figured out how they worked.

Reaching out with an ingratiating smile, Yang Er jabbed the yellow button on the remote control as if touching an electric wire; before he could offer any remarks, the gate of Jiaxi Village exploded with a "Boom—", the enormous blast and white smoke engulfing the village gate, a blast of hot wind mixed with debris and leaves rushing toward them, and the soldiers of the Temporary First Battalion lined up outside the village all toppled over in unison.

The Transmigrators flew into a rage at the sight, each pulling out a Black Ebony Short Stick and charging into the crowd, dragging these cowards up and beating them with fists and kicks — the scene descended into utter chaos.

Only two people remained standing where they were, unmoving.

Han Bo pressed his forehead and rolled his eyes skyward: after all his calculations, the one thing he'd forgotten was to stage a few explosive demonstrations for the native soldiers beforehand...

Yang Er stood there dumbly, right index finger raised, utterly baffled: "How did the gunpowder pack explode? Was I the one who lit the fuse? My finger?"

The two were jolted awake by the torrent around them — the Rattan Armor Soldiers of the Temporary First Battalion, driven by clubs and sticks, were charging toward Jiaxi Village.

At this point, there was no suspense left; Jiaxi Village's main force was still sitting in meditation at the gate: those not killed outright by the gunpowder pack's blast were dizzy and disoriented, bleeding from the ears and nose — anyone still holding a weapon counted as a tough man, and all were stabbed to death by the charging Rattan Armor Soldiers.

Half an hour later, all the villagers had been searched out, including women and children. The surviving able-bodied men were being bound with deer sinew; their former defeated foes... the weaklings of Xingang Society now strutted about arrogantly, each wearing Rattan Armor and pacing back and forth, occasionally using the spears in their hands to intimidate the dejected captives.

The village's largest building — the Public Office — was now occupied by the invaders. Han Bo sat grandly at the entrance of the Public Office, looking down at the Xiaolong Village natives seated all over the ground below the steps.

Gongda, standing nearby, was loudly translating the pre-prepared captive policy: 200 able-bodied men, 50 women, 30 children — these were the captives to be transferred in batches to the Chikan New District over the next few days.

Given the Transmigrators' current capacity, 400 hostile native able-bodied men was the limit. So for this first batch of Xiaolong Village people, they could only take in this many for now, because the same number was reserved for the Madou people to the east... Once reinforcements arrived, the main force would set out to deal with those fools.

Nearly 150 Xiaolong warriors had died in this battle, and with another 200 able-bodied men conscripted from various villages for labor service, the great Xiaolong Society of 4,000 would surely suffer a severe blow to its Essence Refining this time. Going forward, as ship after ship of Ming people arrived, these natives would be forcibly relocated to Chikan at a ratio of four to one, until only the elderly remained in the village.

As Gongda announced the terms of conscripting the able-bodied men, a stir rippled through the natives sitting on the ground; a dark, thin old man scrambled up and began speaking with great agitation — just as he grew impassioned, "Crack!" — blood splattered everywhere, and his head was blown open...

"The grace period is over." Han Bo muttered the words quietly, then slowly slid his M9 pistol back into its holster.

These so-called native peoples — either you don't spill blood, like with Xingang Society, and the benefits are so plentiful that Xingang Society has already begun to collapse amidst its happiness.

But once blood is spilled, all bets are off — you don't stop until they submit completely. This was the Transmigrators' guiding principle: peoples like this, where a few thousand claim to be a whole nation, the Transmigrators would encounter thousands or tens of thousands more in the future. If they took the slow-boil approach with every single one, by the time all the Transmigrators died of old age, they probably still wouldn't have broken through Malacca.

This was only the first wave of preliminary selection; among these natives conscripted for forced labor, any who were unruly, had hostile eyes, or slacked off and acted willful would all be sent to Wood Cutting in the future. After being sifted through several times like this, the replacements would all be Good Citizens.

Before noon, the invaders occupying Jiaxi Village, lying in wait, easily routed several small bands of men from nearby Xiaolong Society villages. After demonstrating their strength, the Transmigrators selected some messengers from among the captives and sent them to notify the headmen of each village to come and pay their respects — at this stage, there probably weren't many villages that still had the nerve to play dead.

The reinforcements arrived a bit faster than expected. They had marched ashore in broad daylight and didn't need to weave around avoiding the scattered villages of Xiaolong Society, so by 11:30 in the morning, the reinforcements had reached the outskirts of Jiaxi Village.

Han Bo, who had long been waiting impatiently, immediately gave the order to form up. The Xingang Society soldiers, who had eaten their fill of Xiaolong people's venison, were organized — the temporary Auxiliary Soldiers entered through the front gate, while the Temporary First Battalion soldiers exited through the back gate, heading straight toward the Madou Society.

At the same moment the troops marched out, the drone on Dayuan Island also took off. With a straight-line distance of less than 20 kilometers, the drone arrived in an instant and began covering the main force's march.

About 6 kilometers northeast of Xiaolong Society lay the Madou people's territory, positioned a bit deeper into the Island Interior. The Transmigrators didn't know whether the Madou people had caught on yet — although the Marine Corps had sealed Jiaxi Village's back gate from the start, the moment the explosives detonated and drew nearby scattered natives, it meant the blockade was no longer necessary, and the Madou people might well have learned what was happening over in Xiaolong.