Discipline Problems

Difficulties on the march were to be expected, and Chris took the opportunity to use them to toughen himself and his team.

Carlos, the military police captain, and his men were just one of the results.

At a little past four in the afternoon, after marching eight kilometers, they began setting up camp.

Chris took the opportunity to call Isaac, Lin Ruoyu, and the others together for a small internal meeting.

"Let's hear it. What problems did we encounter on the march today? Find the problems and solve them."

Isaac remained silent. He looked at Chris without saying a word, his calm expression giving no hint of what he was thinking.

Lin Ruoyu glanced from side to side, suddenly struck by a sense of déjà vu... This was like forming a Party branch with three members, then holding a post-battle meeting to review their mistakes.

So Lin Ruoyu spoke first.

"We're moving too slowly, and there's no one bringing up the rear. I suggest assigning a team to gather up the slower people at the back so no one gets left behind.

"This is only the first day, and everyone still has plenty of stamina. In another couple of days, people are definitely going to start falling behind."

Chris nodded, agreeing that this needed attention.

He turned to Isaac.

"Can Connie handle that? She and her boys seem full of energy."

Isaac nodded slowly.

"No problem... May I bring something up?"

"Go ahead."

Isaac still hesitated, but with Chris looking at him encouragingly, he finally spoke.

"We're still relatively safe right now. Popoli has been leading his men on repeated sweeps against the nearby bandits and mounted raiders, so no one's going to bother us.

"But once we enter Bagnia, things will be less certain. I think we should distribute some of our five hundred matchlocks ahead of time.

"Of course, we can't hand out guns indiscriminately. We should arm our old hands first-the men who've followed us all the way from Inyama.

"Besides that, we should select trustworthy men among the newly recruited mercenaries who know how to use firearms and issue them matchlocks.

"As for those who are trustworthy but don't know how to use firearms, we can equip them with melee weapons. They'll still provide some fighting strength.

"That way, if we're attacked, we won't end up in the awkward position of having guns and men but no ability to fight."

"Can I trust you?"

Chris addressed the question to Isaac.

He knew Isaac was feeling somewhat disgruntled. Though he wasn't quite sure where that mood had come from, as long as Isaac was willing to work, it meant the matter could be resolved.

"Of course."

"Then can you handle this job?"

Chris asked.

"I want you to take charge of this. You'll decide how to arm the group. If you have the time and energy, you can also train the raw recruits and teach them how to shoot and form ranks."

"Well..."

Isaac froze. Delight appeared on his face, but so did hesitation.

"Is... is it really all right to leave all of that to me?"

"Can you fulfill your responsibilities?"

"Of course I can."

"Then go do it."

After the brief internal meeting, Isaac rallied, shook off his inexplicable emotional turmoil, and threw himself into his work with renewed energy.

The next day, they broke camp and set off again.

With the experience of the first day, the previous evening's meeting, and the delegation of authority, the march went much more smoothly.

Isaac hurried back and forth with more than forty men, keeping the group well organized. He sorted the reliable men from the unreliable ones and selectively distributed matchlocks.

Meanwhile, the players scouting ahead found narrow trails winding through the woods and gullies. Following these paths, the main group picked up speed, reaching a new record of twelve kilometers on the second day.

On the third day, a small incident occurred during the march.

Around noon, while more than a hundred people were gathered to cook outdoors, a bear charged straight at them, roaring loudly. Perhaps it had just woken from hibernation and was starving, or perhaps eating too many people had gone to its head.

The bear's sudden appearance certainly startled a lot of people, but it was unlucky: it had approached from the direction of the small area where the players were eating together.

"Holy shit!"

Startled, Lin Ruoyu instinctively swung the gun from his back into his hands and fired at the bear a few meters away.

His quick shot missed, but the loud gunshot successfully brought the bear to a halt, and it reared up on its hind legs.

"Get it! Chop it down!"

Home Alone, seated nearby, shouted at the others. The bear looked terrifying standing upright, and truth be told, his knees had gone weak.

Home Alone only dared shout, not charge in, but he had a good subordinate. Carlos, who had been eating a short distance away, dropped his bowl, grabbed the Halberd beside him, and sprang up to charge.

"Raaah!"

Carlos roared as he ran, drawing the bear's attention. It abandoned its original target and charged toward him instead.

As soon as he got close, Carlos leveled his Halberd and thrust at the bear's chest with all his strength. The bear reared up again and swung both paws hard at the spearhead.

The first swipe knocked the Halberd off course, sending its gleaming point past the bear's shoulder without piercing it.

Though Carlos had failed to injure the bear, he had successfully stopped it.

Nearby, Lin Ruoyu tossed aside his discharged Flintlock and snatched a spear from another player. After two running steps, he hurled it at the bear with all his might.

The spear whistled through the air and drove into the bear's flank. The powerful throw sent it through the thick fur and deep into the flesh, drawing a gush of blood.

The agonizing pain forced the bear back onto all fours. Roaring, it tried to go after Lin Ruoyu.

Seizing the opportunity, Carlos raised his Halberd high and brought it down hard on the bear's head. The blow split the fur and skin over its skull, and the heavy impact left it standing motionless in a daze.

A second or two later, the bear came to its senses and finally remembered to flee. It turned and bolted toward an empty stretch of ground. Carlos stabbed it twice from behind with his Halberd, but it never turned back.

"After it!"

Lin Ruoyu made the decision immediately. Picking up another spear, he led the others in pursuit, with Carlos close behind... He had little choice, since his boss, Home Alone, was following Lin Ruoyu too.

They hadn't run far along the bear's escape route before Lin Ruoyu spotted the spear caught between two trees-the same one that had been lodged in the bear.

"Look, there's a piece of meat here too!"

Home Alone cried happily, bending down to pick up a piece of flesh and skin still covered in black fur. Carlos, dressed in black clothes and leather armor, hurried forward and stood in front of him with his Halberd, guarding against a surprise attack from the dying black bear.

As it turned out, Carlos had worried needlessly. A little farther ahead, they found the bear lying in a ditch, its limbs stiff and motionless. It was clearly dead.

When the players and their men dragged the bear back, Chris came over after hearing the news. He stood nearby, listening to their excited discussion about how to cook this lump of meat that had delivered itself to them.

Chris wasn't interested in how the bear meat would taste. The meat of an uncastrated, carnivorous beast like this was bound to be rank and gamey. Right now, he cared about only one thing.

"How did this bear get so close? Didn't we post a sentry?"

Chris put the question to Isaac, who pointed at a black-clad mercenary nearby whose shoulders were being held by two men.

"We did post a sentry, but he slacked off."

So it was a discipline problem. They had posted a lookout, but he had shirked his duties and failed to stay alert, missing the bear's approach.

Chris waved for the mercenary to be taken away first so he couldn't overhear their conversation.

"If we find a problem, we solve it. What should we do about this one?"

"From now on, post two sentries so they can keep an eye on each other. Also, I suggest following Bohemia's military law: any sentry who neglects his duties is executed."

Isaac offered his suggestion, but Chris slowly shook his head.

"That won't work. It treats the symptom, not the cause. Mercenaries aren't professional soldiers. Whether they're traveling with us or taking up weapons to fight, it's all just a job to them.

"Executing a sentry for neglecting his duties might frighten them for a while, but in the long run, it'll come back to bite us."

"Then what should we do?"

"We need rewards as well as punishments. Both together... Let's do this: the negligent sentry gets no meat today. And for the next three days, the mercenaries in his squad must wash the other mercenaries' clothes.

"At the same time, any squad selected for sentry duty will receive three times as much meat as the other mercenaries while serving as sentries. Also, whether they're on day or night duty, every sentry gets a flask of sugar water."

Sugar was the world's most widely used "legal poison." Its sweetness produced pleasure through nerve signals, while its high energy content quickly supplied the body's needs.

Not only could humans not resist sugar, but wild animals would also become sugar lovers once they had a chance to taste it.

In this era of limited productivity, sugar was a luxury. Commoners couldn't afford it, and even the empire's great nobles and emperor couldn't eat as much as they pleased every day.

Even in the industrially developed modern world, selling sugar was more profitable than selling heroin, marijuana, or cocaine.

One could say that sugar was the most profitable business, and the drug trade was merely an inferior substitute.

Sugar was a strategic national resource. No one cared if you bought a little, but if you purchased and stockpiled large amounts without registering and explaining their intended use, the police would come knocking to ask what you were up to.

Providing a sentry with a flask of sugar water was nothing to Chris, but it ought to be enough to catch their interest and make them stop resisting sentry duty.

"Sugar water!"

Isaac paused in surprise, then asked.

"How sweet?"

Chris glanced around, then took his canteen from his belt. It held about five hundred milliliters and was already full of warm water.

Chris rummaged in his pocket, took out five sugar cubes, and dropped them inside. After shaking the canteen vigorously a few times to dissolve the sugar, he handed it to Isaac.

"Like this. Try it."

Isaac took the canteen and tilted his head back for a sip. Without saying a word, he tipped it up again. His Adam's apple bobbed, and loud gulping sounds followed. In just a few swallows, all five hundred milliliters of sugar water were gone.

"Is that sweet enough?"

Chris asked. Isaac wiped his beard firmly and licked his lips.

"It's too extravagant. A flask of sugar water for a sentry is far too extravagant."

"It's not extravagant. Just one flask per sentry per day? That's hardly extravagant."

Chris thought nothing of it. How much could that little bit of sugar cost? It wasn't even bubble tea. The cost didn't come to a single yuan.

Yet the pleasure and energy it provided could help the sentries concentrate and take their work seriously.

To him, it was a very good deal.

"Sugar is expensive."

"I can get it. Don't worry."

Chris made the decision.

"That settles it. One flask of sugar water a day for each sentry... No, twenty grams of sugar. Add sugar to the scouts' supplies as well."

Chris abruptly corrected himself because it had occurred to him that, if he issued sugar water, a supply officer might skim off their benefits, replacing five sugar cubes with one and eating the other four in private.

It was like the People's Liberation Army insisting on serving whole boiled eggs to prevent anyone from tampering with the number of eggs provided.

Isaac had no choice but to leave with the bag of sugar Chris gave him. It contained ten days' supplies for the sentries and scouts.

When word of the new sentry benefits spread, it unsurprisingly attracted tremendous attention among the mercenaries and caravan workers.

No one cared anymore about the negligent sentry and the five other unlucky men in his squad having to wash everyone else's underwear. Everyone was asking Isaac about the sugar-water allowance for sentries.

That included the men who were about to wash a great deal of underwear.

Once Isaac confirmed it, the sentry position everyone had previously resisted became highly coveted. Everyone scrambled for it, and even Carlos couldn't resist signing up.

The temptation of sugar was something no one could resist... Unless they had diabetes.

Isaac seized the opportunity to announce that only the best marksmen with the strongest training results could become sentries, laying the groundwork for his training program and overcoming the mercenaries' resistance.

After making the announcement, he struck while the iron was hot and began selecting new sentries. Those who had previously slacked off on watch were excluded for now; they would have to finish their punishment first.

Everyone enthusiastically volunteered, except Mia, who quietly took her Big White Pig to find Chris.

"Pretty person, I want sugar! Give me sugar!"

"Ah... All right, all right, you little rascal. Here's a piece of Milk Candy. Don't tell anyone."