"Main Battle Tank" Paulus, "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni, and "Blossom Bomb" Anthony were all martial artists from nearby. Though none had made it into the Paralympics, they had all won matches in regional tournaments and were formidable figures in their own right.
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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 Schultz, is that martial artist of yours really capable of defeating Will Grand Dog without using a Martial Arts Algorithm? Why hasn't he come out?"
The mayor shook his head, keeping his posture extremely low. "Th-this... We ordinary people don't know much about martial artists."
"Got himself a good prosthetic body, so he's taking time to recover, huh?" "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni swung the pair of blades on his back and said quietly, "That guy is really lucky."
"The warrior by Apennine's side was using cutting-edge parts." Paulus's tone carried a hint of implication. "How many thugs do you think that prosthetic body could attract?"
"Who knows? Though there were fewer parts in total, they were all high-end goods." Anthony grinned viciously. "There should be one or two who can make a name for themselves, right?"
"I'd rather they be a little famous. It might raise our value a bit."
As the three spoke, a ground-effect aircraft came speeding over. It resembled the one Tax Officer Apennine had arrived in, but no private soldiers accompanied it.
The three martial artists quickly fell silent. Although the welfare officer held far less authority than a tax officer, he was still a subordinate of 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. As long as they were hooked up to nutrient fluid, they were quite easy to raise.
The village chief quickly counted the infants, then had all families willing to adopt come forward and take away whichever babies caught their eye.
This was gene welfare.
In addition, the welfare officer would announce civilization welfare. By regulation, he would declare that this place was under Civilization Protection, and that the lord was obligated to attack any person or entity that invaded this settlement.
That was the welfare officer's entire duty.
But this year, the procedure was unexpectedly different.
After distributing the infants, the welfare officer turned and left without another word.
The old mayor had no choice but to circle around in front of him and kneel down. "My lord... Isn't there something you've missed?"
The welfare officer glanced at the mayor, then pointed at the three outside martial artists behind him. "Don't you know perfectly well? Haven't you already made preparations?"
"Oh, my lord! This isn't a joke." The mayor said, "Our town truly did defeat the martial artist under Lord Apennine..."
"The specific process has nothing to do with me. You failed to pay the full Gene Tax. The fact that I have not announced the permanent revocation of your town's protection is already His Lordship's mercy." The welfare officer waved his 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 maintain human genetic diversity. Refusing this obligation automatically meant losing Civilization Protection. And being unable to fulfill it could, in principle, mean one would not be protected.
This was the first principle of the Dyson Principles.
If a lord believed the population quality of a settlement had deteriorated to a certain degree, he could indeed choose not to protect that settlement.
Some lords did indeed announce the withdrawal of protection for a period of time from settlements with poor population quality, tempering those towns. If the settlement could endure without protection, it would prove its worth. If it was wiped out, then the lord would simply have one less burden.
The welfare officer had merely made the announcement. There was no longer any room for reversal.
For the next ten days, Recycling Station Town could only rely on itself.
Doctor Schultz approached the mayor with a worried expression. "Uncle, this..."
"Enough. It has come to this..." The mayor shook his head. "At least we still have three martial artist lords here. And in another day or two, Shan may be able to rebuild his prosthetic body. By then..."
"I advise you not to place too much hope in that Shan fellow." "Blossom Bomb" Anthony let out a sneer. "A martial artist who has had his Martial Arts Algorithm taken away... Heh. You don't understand the cruelty of the martial artist world. If he ended up in such a state, how much could he possibly have achieved as a martial artist? He merely took advantage of an overly careless enemy and got lucky with a comeback."
"Still, being able to turn things around in that situation is a skill in itself, isn't it?" "Rainstorm Blade" Longkoni shook his head. "At least we wouldn't get an opportunity to obtain high-grade parts when we were at the end of our rope."
"That's true." Anthony nodded.
Doctor Schultz wanted to argue a few points. In their understanding, Xiang Shan might have been a Vagrant. But in the end, he did not say it aloud.
Vagrant was not a respectable identity. Many martial artists disdained associating with Vagrants.
As they spoke, the wind suddenly grew fierce. More dust and sand rose into the air, reducing visibility to barely ten meters.
The mayor watched the ground-effect aircraft rise into the sky in despair.
He had heard of this procedure before, but this was the first time he had witnessed 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. Since Recycling Station Town failed to fulfill its obligations at the start of this work cycle, no new protection shall be declared for the time being. Until my next arrival, all townspeople must continue striving."
Almost at the same time, a voice came from within the dust storm.
"So, this town has no protection now, right?"
From deep within the dust, a burst of footsteps suddenly rang out.
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 particularly sensitive. Yet he could clearly feel himself swaying.
Was this really a martial artist-type 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 loudspeakers.
"Who knows?" the mysterious man replied. "Of course, I'm a lowly, worthless bug. But for a protector at your level, a Green Forest bandit at my level isn't so easy to handle either. You may not need to pick a fight with me over a bunch of unprotected trash, right? Of course, if you're the sort who hates evil with a passion, then I can only accept my fate. We'll lay our cards on the table and have ourselves a good fight."
The welfare officer snorted. The dust swirled, and the protectors left directly.
"Not bad luck." The man laughed heartily. "Then..."
Clang, clang, clang...
The terrifying footsteps approached the crowd.
"Main Battle Tank" Paulus swallowed. Protectors of the welfare officer's rank had reached full modification, with their entire bodies except their brains converted into prosthetics. For even such a figure to find this Green Forest thug troublesome...
He could not afford to be careless!
"Halt!" The machine gun on "Blossom Bomb" Anthony's shoulder lowered and aimed at the black figure hidden within the dust.
He did not fire rashly. The destructive power of the Gunfire Way exceeded that of other Outer-School Martial Arts, but it was limited by ammunition capacity. Especially 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 could only fit three thousand rounds into his body. Including the ammunition box on his back that did not hinder his movements, he could carry around twelve thousand rounds in total.
Naturally, he had more supplies, but those bullets were on the vehicle he had arrived in—he had not expected the enemy to come so quickly.
Before he returned to his armed vehicle, those thirteen thousand rounds were all Anthony had to rely on.
The newcomer looked like a massive industrial-type prosthetic body, and his hands were held in a posture resembling surrender, so Anthony did not open fire immediately.
And so, his defeat was already assured.
A violent gale surged forth, followed by a horrifying noise that generated erratic currents in everyone's auditory receptors.
Nearly every resident in town lost track of the shadow within the dust at the same moment.
Amid the surging wind, "Blossom Bomb" Anthony saw his defeat. He too lost track of the giant shadow. The instant his visual graphics processor threw an error, he opened fire. Hundreds of bullets burst 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 fluid sprayed out.
The shockwave tore apart the dust in an instant. During that brief interval, those fitted with prosthetic eyes saw the newcomer's true appearance.
He was a giant nearly three meters tall. His prosthetic body was completely encased in armor. His shoulder armor rose high and merged with his faceplate, protecting the unmodified face beneath. Aside from the structure of its limbs, the armor had neither protrusions nor indentations. Every surface formed elegant curves.
He looked like an ancient knight clad in heavy armor.
The armor's arm span was immense, nearly reaching past his knees. Yet those muscular arms, sturdier even than industrial prosthetics, rested upon a steel rod ten centimeters in radius. 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 down. The giant merely bent slightly to the right, lowering the rod's right end and driving it into Anthony's face.
His attitude was completely playful.
"First round goes to me." The giant man said with a grin. "Kids, you can't be careless again! Otherwise, Uncle Leif will get bored."