Capture

Three days later, the atmosphere on the vacant square in the center of the Carnford Shantytown Area, which had been leveled and used as a temporary market and gathering place, was completely different from usual.

A rough but sturdy wooden platform was erected overnight. In the center of the platform, the dark, stained execution platform silently exuded a chilling aura.

Early in the morning, Tommy, an officer from the Culture and Propaganda Department, led several loud-voiced young men through the streets and alleys, banging on gongs and shouting, "The traitorous Sauron is being beheaded in the square! Everyone come and see! See what happens to this traitor!"

The news spread like wildfire throughout the entire Shantytown Area.

Now that everyone's lives have just begun to improve and they are starting to feel a sense of belonging to this home they have finally settled down in, they are both curious and indignant to hear that there are spies from the Sauron who have infiltrated and are trying to cause trouble.

Before noon, the area around the platform was already packed with a dense crowd of men, women, and children. The air was thick with the smells of sweat, dust, and a tense sense of anticipation.

People stood on tiptoe, craned their necks, and whispered among themselves, all eager to see what the audacious spy looked like.

Finally, a group of stern-faced soldiers escorted a person up to the high platform.

The spy's hands were tied behind his back, his clothes were tattered, and his exposed skin was covered with scars of varying depths, clearly indicating that he had been interrogated extensively in prison.

The spring wind in the Northern Territory was still biting, and he shivered from the cold. But perhaps knowing that he was doomed to die today, his face lost its fear and was replaced by a desperate ferocity. His eyes swept over the crowd below the stage like a wolf, and he even stubbornly straightened his body, refusing to kneel.

The soldiers escorting him shouted at him, but he stubbornly refused to budge.

A burly, expressionless executioner standing nearby, seeing this, didn't waste any words, stepped forward, and slammed a wooden stick as hard as an iron ruler down hardly into the back of his knee!

"Crack!" A teeth-grinding cracking sound was accompanied by a suppressed groan as the spy's kneecap shattered, and he uncontrollably collapsed to his knees with a "thud" before the execution platform.

"Good!"

"Well done!"

A cheer of satisfaction erupted from the audience; the crowd's emotions were ignited by this decisive and swift strike.

At that moment, Tommy quickly climbed onto the platform.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his slight nervousness, and in the loudest and clearest voice possible, addressed the sea of people below the stage, following his prepared speech:

"Fellow countrymen! Fellow villagers! Look carefully! This man before you is a spy sent by the Sauron Barbarians! He disguised himself as a refugee, infiltrated our Carnford, and attempted to spy on our military, destroy our homes, and plunge us back into war and hell!"

His voice echoed across the square, the crowd fell silent, and countless eyes focused on him and the kneeling spy.

"But! He's miscalculated! Carnford is not a place where they can do whatever they want! Today, we will use this thief's head to establish the ironclad rules of Carnford!"

Tommy suddenly raised his voice, almost shouting.

"Anyone who betrays my compatriots or colludes with the enemy to sell out our territory will be executed without mercy once discovered!"

"Kill without mercy!"

"Kill this traitorous dog!"

The crowd's anger and fear were completely ignited, and shouts rose in waves.

Without further hesitation, the executioner stepped forward, raised the heavy guillotine in his hand, and the sunlight reflected off the blade, creating a blinding gleam.

No unnecessary rituals, just a swift and decisive strike!

A burst of blood appeared!

The head, which had just been displaying a ferocious expression, was instantly severed from the body and rolled onto the table, while the headless corpse convulsed and fell to the ground.

In an instant, a chorus of gasps erupted across the square. Many women instinctively covered the eyes of their children, and the men gasped in shock.

Then came a deathly silence, as if the air itself had frozen, with only the stench of blood rapidly spreading.

The silence lasted only a few seconds.

"Good!!"

Someone, with a trembling voice, was the first to shout it out.

The shout was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating ripples.

"Well done!"

"Long live the Lord!"

Scattered cheers quickly rose up, then spread like wildfire, merging into a deafening roar.

This wave of protest included genuine hatred for spies, the satisfaction of having their safety protected, and many newly arrived refugees eager to use this loud cry to demonstrate their firm stance and sense of belonging to Lord Karl and Carnford.

Tommy looked at the enraged crowd below and knew that the purpose of this public execution had been achieved.

He signaled to the soldiers to dispose of the corpse. As ordered, the head and body would be hung up separately for public display. He then quickly walked down from the platform.

The crowd in the square lingered, reluctant to disperse, still immersed in a complex mix of emotions—bloodshed, fear, excitement, and collective identity.

After the initial shock and commotion, the crowd slowly dispersed, but the discussions spread like a tide.

People whispered among themselves, their faces showing excitement, lingering fear, or some indescribable euphoria, repeatedly discussing the bloody and thrilling scene they had just witnessed.

At the edge of the crowd, a man dressed in a tattered cotton-padded coat, indistinguishable from the other vagrants, seemingly busy tidying his straw sandals, was none other than Franz from the Intelligence Bureau.

He squatted on the ground, his movements casual, but the corner of his eye was as sharp as a hawk's, precisely locking onto a short, stocky figure moving with the crowd diagonally in front of him.

These days, Franz disguises himself as an ordinary laborer and works on the construction site of Stockaded Village Number Three. He quickly notices this man whose behavior is somewhat unusual among his many coworkers.

This person has been in Tunbao for about half a month. He is usually quiet and hardworking, and at first glance, he seems unremarkable.

But Franz, with his keen observation skills, had already noticed several unusual details.

This man always liked to squat alone in the shadows of his shack late at night, his fingers unconsciously tracing complex lines or patterns on the muddy ground; his gaze would occasionally, seemingly casually, sweep towards the outline of the distant military camp and the direction of the stables, lingering for far longer than the curiosity of an ordinary refugee.

Just moments ago, this same man also came to witness the beheading. At the instant the Sauron spy was beheaded, Franz clearly caught the reaction of this short, stocky man.

His neck stiffened abruptly. Although he immediately lowered his head to cover it up before joining the shouts of those around him, his reaction and the fleeting glimpse in his eyes were not simply fear or satisfaction, but rather a kind of anger and tension born of shared sorrow.

"It's him!" Franz instantly became certain.

He stood up calmly, dusted himself off, and blended naturally into the dispersing crowd, following the short, stocky man at a distance.

The man seemed to have a strong instinct for counter-surveillance. Instead of returning directly to his shack like the others, he deliberately took several turns and headed towards the bustling makeshift market on the edge of the Shantytown Area, which was made up of a few broken tables.

He first stopped in front of a stall selling wilted vegetables, pretending to ask the price, while his peripheral vision quickly scanned behind him like a probe.

Franz had anticipated this. Almost the instant the man stopped, he quickly sidestepped and squatted down in front of an old man's pot and pan repair stall. He casually picked up a cracked bowl and examined it with great seriousness, perfectly blending into the environment.

The man noticed nothing amiss and continued walking, but his pace noticeably quickened.

Franz immediately stood up, maintaining a seemingly casual yet precise distance, and continued to follow.

Suddenly, the man veered sharply and disappeared into a narrow, dark alley between two rows of shacks.

The alley is very narrow, only wide enough for one person to pass through at a time; it is a common "capillary" passageway in the Shantytown Area.

Franz was startled, realizing that the other party might have noticed, or that this was their pre-arranged rendezvous or escape route.

He quickly followed, and at the alley entrance, he brushed past a peddler selling miscellaneous items with a wooden box hanging around his neck.

Their eyes met briefly, then they exchanged a barely perceptible nod.

That was his comrade-in-arms, Ernst, who had been waiting there as planned.

Deep in the alley, in the dim light, the man was practically jogging.

Franz knew he couldn't wait any longer; he had to create chaos and a pretext to act.

He suddenly shouted, "Thief! He stole my wallet!"

The shout was particularly jarring in the narrow alley.

People immediately peeked out from several nearby shacks, and a crowd of onlookers gathered at the alley entrance.

Upon hearing the shouts, the man not only didn't stop, but instead sped up and ran like a startled rabbit, almost reaching the other end of the alley.

Just then, Ernst, who was supposed to be pretending to hawk his wares at the other end of the alley, seemed to be bumped by someone. He stumbled, and the wooden box hanging on his chest tilted violently. The needles, threads, buttons, knives, and other odds and ends inside scattered all over the ground with a "clatter," completely blocking the narrow exit!

The running man was momentarily stopped by this sudden obstacle, and his movements inevitably faltered.

In that split second, Franz pounced like a cheetah, one hand gripping the man's right arm tightly and twisting it backward, while the other hand flashed towards his neck, attempting to subdue him.

The man was also extremely fierce and quick-witted, striking with elbows and knees while struggling desperately. His strength was astonishing, clearly indicating that he had been trained.

Franz continued shouting as he struggled to control himself, "Damn thief! You dare resist! Give me back my wallet!"

Ernst immediately dropped the empty box and rushed over, cursing, "You motherfucker! You've spilled all my stuff! Don't even think about running away! Pay up!" As he spoke, he also helped to twist the man's other arm.

The two of them worked together and finally pinned the struggling man firmly to the muddy, filthy ground.

Ernst deftly pulled out a prepared Hemp Rope from his waist and tied his hands and feet tightly.

Franz, panting heavily, grabbed the man bound like a dumpling and shouted to the gathered, bewildered crowd, "The thief has been caught! Everyone, check if you've lost anything! I'm taking him to the Lord's Residence and having the Lord lock him in the dungeon!"

Upon hearing this, everyone instinctively checked their pockets and belongings.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Franz and Ernst exchanged a glance, then each lifted the still struggling and growling man up on either side and quickly left the filthy alley, heading towards the castle.

After the onlookers saw the "thief" being arrested, they made a few comments and then gradually dispersed.

The brief but intense arrest on the edge of the Shantytown Area was like a stone thrown into water; after creating ripples, the surface quickly returned to calm.