Protection Ends

"Main Battle Tank" Paulus, "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni, and "Blossom Bomb" Anthony were all martial artists from nearby. Though none of them had made it into the Paralympics, they had all won matches in regional tournaments and were local powerhouses.

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Aside from "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni, the other two martial artists had retained their original faces. Both wore exceedingly arrogant expressions. They had grown bored waiting for the welfare officer. Anthony asked the mayor, "Hey, old man Schultz, can that martial artist of yours really defeat Will Grand Dog without using a Martial Arts Algorithm? Why hasn't he come out?"

The mayor shook his head, lowering his posture as much as possible. "Th-this... We ordinary people don't know much about martial artists."

"Got himself a good prosthetic body and is taking time to recover, huh?" "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni swung the pair of blades on his back and said quietly, "That guy really got lucky."

"The warrior beside Apennine was using cutting-edge parts." Paulus's tone carried a hint of implication. "How many thugs do you think that prosthetic body can attract?"

"Who knows? There may be fewer parts overall, but they're all premium goods." Anthony grinned viciously. "There should be one or two who can make a name for themselves, right?"

"I'd rather they were a little more famous. It'd raise our own worth, at least."

As the three spoke, a ground-effect aircraft sped over. It was similar to the one tax officer Apennine had arrived in, but it had no private soldiers accompanying it.

The three martial artists quickly fell silent. Although the welfare officer held far less authority than the tax officer, he still served under the lord. If they wanted to make a living on this land, they had to show the lord's people a certain degree of respect.

As in previous years, the welfare officer distributed several healthy infants to the mayor. Their esophagi had already undergone limited modification surgery. So long as they were hooked up to an IV drip containing nutrient solution, they were quite easy to raise.

The mayor quickly counted the infants, then called over all households willing to adopt and had them take away whichever babies appealed to them.

This was gene welfare.

In addition, the welfare officer would announce civilization welfare. According to the regulations, he would declare here that the place was under Civilization Protection, and that the lord was responsible for attacking any person or entity that invaded this settlement.

That was the welfare officer's entire duty.

But this year, the procedure was predictably a little different.

After distributing the infants, the welfare officer turned and left immediately.

The old mayor had no choice but to circle around in front of the welfare officer and kneel. "My lord... Isn't there something you've missed?"

The welfare officer glanced at the mayor, then pointed to the three visiting martial artists behind him. "Don't you know perfectly well? Haven't you already made preparations?"

"Oh, my lord! This is no joke." The mayor said, "Our little town truly did defeat the martial artist under Lord Apennine..."

"The specifics are none of my concern. You did not pay enough Gene Tax. The fact that I have not declared your town's protection permanently revoked is already an act of mercy from His Lordship." The welfare officer waved a hand. "Nineteen days from now, I will return to announce the establishment of protection. Until then, it is your own affair."

All humans had an obligation to preserve human genetic diversity. Refusing this obligation automatically meant losing Civilization Protection. And being unable to fulfill this obligation meant that, in principle, one could go unprotected.

This was the first principle of the Dyson Principles.

If a lord believed that the population quality of a settlement had degenerated to a certain degree, he truly could refuse to protect that settlement.

Some lords did indeed declare protection revoked for a period of time for settlements with poor population quality, using it to temper those small towns. If the settlement could endure without protection, it would prove its value. If it was wiped out, then the lord would simply have one less burden.

The welfare officer was merely making the announcement. There was no longer any room to turn things around.

For the next ten days, Recycling Station Town could only rely on itself.

Doctor Schultz approached the mayor anxiously. "Uncle, this..."

"Enough, it has come to this..." The mayor shook his head. "At least we still have the three martial artist gentlemen, and Xiang Shan may be able to reconstruct his prosthetic body in another day or two. When that happens..."

"I advise you not to place too much hope in that Xiang Shan." "Blossom Bomb" Anthony let out a cold laugh. "A martial artist who had his Martial Arts Algorithm taken away... Heh heh, you have no idea how cruel the martial artist world is. If he ended up in such a state, how great could his achievements as a martial artist have been? He merely took advantage of his enemy's excessive carelessness and got lucky enough to turn things around."

"But you have to admit, being able to turn things around under those circumstances is a skill in itself, isn't it?" "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni shook his head. "At least we wouldn't have gotten an opportunity to acquire high-end parts when we were at the end of our rope."

"That's true." Anthony nodded.

Doctor Schultz wanted to argue a few words. In their eyes, Xiang Shan might have been a knight-errant. But in the end, he did not say it aloud.

A knight-errant was not exactly a respectable identity. Many martial artists disdained associating with them.

As they spoke, the wind suddenly grew much stronger. More dust and sand rose into the air, reducing visibility to barely ten meters.

The mayor watched the ground-effect aircraft rise into the air in despair.

He had heard of this process before, but this was the first time he had seen it himself.

"In the name of the Dyson Principles, the Human Gene Bank Management Agency declares that the previous work cycle's 'Civilization Protection' for Recycling Station Town has officially ended. Because Recycling Station Town failed to fulfill its obligations at the beginning of this work cycle, new protection will not be declared for the time being. Until my next arrival, all townspeople must continue working hard."

Almost at the same time, a voice came from within the dust storm.

"So that means this town has no protection now, right?"

From deep within the dust came a sudden burst of footsteps.

Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang...

The metallic footsteps were incomparably heavy. "Main Battle Tank" Paulus's expression changed slightly. His balance sensors were not cutting-edge and could not be called especially sensitive. But he could indeed feel himself swaying.

Was that really a martial artist prosthetic body? Not some industrial model?

"Thug, do you really not fear death, showing yourself before me?" The welfare officer's voice came from the air through a loudspeaker.

"Who knows?" the mysterious man replied. "Of course, I'm a lowly, worthless worm. But for a protector at your level, a Green Forest bandit at my level is not so easy to deal with. You may not find it worthwhile to fight me over a group of unprotected scrap, right? Of course, if you're the sort who hates evil with a passion, then I'll just have to accept it. We can lay our cards on the table and have a satisfying fight."

The welfare officer snorted, and the dust swirled. The protectors, however, left directly.

"Not bad luck." The man laughed heartily. "Then..."

Clang, clang, clang...

The terrifying footsteps approached the crowd.

"Main Battle Tank" Paulus swallowed. A guardian at the welfare officer's level had a full modification rate, a powerhouse whose entire body except the brain had been converted into a prosthetic body. A Green Forest thug whom such a figure found troublesome...

He absolutely could not let his guard down!

"Stop right there!" "Blossom Bomb" Anthony lowered the machine gun on his shoulder and aimed it at the black figure hidden within the dust.

He did not fire rashly. The destructive power of Gunfire Way exceeded that of other Outer-School Martial Arts, but it was limited by ammunition capacity. This was especially true for a martial artist like him who had to compete in arena matches. He had hollowed out his abdominal cavity and removed most of his lungs, yet had only managed to install three thousand rounds inside his body. Together with the ammunition box on his back that did not hinder his movement, he could carry around twelve thousand rounds in total.

Of course, he had more supplies, but those bullets were in the vehicle he had arrived in—he had not expected the enemy to come so quickly.

Before he could return to his armed vehicle, those thirteen thousand rounds were Anthony's entire reliance.

The newcomer looked like an enormous industrial prosthetic body, and his hands were raised in a gesture resembling surrender, so Anthony did not open fire at once.

And so, his defeat was inevitable.

A violent gust surged forth, followed by terrifying noise that created erratic currents in everyone's auditory receptors.

Almost at the same time, the town residents lost track of the black shadow in the dust.

Amid the rushing wind, "Blossom Bomb" Anthony saw his defeat. He too lost track of the giant shadow. The instant his visual graphics processor reported an error, he opened fire. Hundreds of bullets sprayed forth in an instant.

Then a steel rod tore through the dust.

Every one of his bullets missed.

The steel rod embedded itself in Anthony's face. Silver-gray slurry splattered outward.

In an instant, the shockwave tore apart the dust. During that brief moment, those with prosthetic eyes saw the newcomer's true appearance.

He was a giant nearly three meters tall. His prosthetic body was completely wrapped in armor, with towering shoulder plates fused with his faceplate to protect his unmodified face. Apart from the structures of the limbs, the armor had no protrusions or indentations whatsoever. Every surface formed graceful curves.

He looked like an ancient knight clad in heavy armor.

The armor's arms were extremely long, nearly extending beyond the knees. Yet those massive arms, more robust than an industrial prosthetic body's, rested on a steel rod with a radius of ten centimeters. That was the giant's weapon. He carried the steel rod on his shoulder, both hands resting upon it.

Even when he defeated Anthony, he had not taken the rod off his shoulder. The giant had merely bent slightly to the right, letting the rod's right end sink and smash into Anthony's face.

His attitude was entirely playful.

"One victory down." The giant man said with a grin, "Kids, you can't be careless again! Otherwise, Uncle Leif will get bored."