As the dawn light spread over the hills, an elder who called himself the village chief approached Chén Yàn's mecha. He wore a black felt hat and a dark shawl, the mud on his hem still not dry. "Benefactor," he said, wiping his face with his hand and revealing deep wrinkles carved by wind and frost, "we are ready to depart."
"I see. Where are you going?" Chén Yàn hadn't yet asked the villagers the reason for their flight, and now seemed like the right time.
"To the Imperial Capital, or other cities. As long as the Empire continues its advances, nowhere is safe." "The Empire?
Are they invading?" "More than invading, they burn, kill, and plunder without restraint. Karelia City has already fallen.
The soldiers and civilians within resisted to the death, and were thus brutally massacred. We are refugees from Count Aldridge's territory." Chén Yàn gasped.
Having been born in a peaceful nation, he had never witnessed such a cruel reality as a city massacre. "Information updated. Imperial Army threat index rising.
Base plan modified, prioritize establishment of defense systems." Argo reacted swiftly. Some ongoing projects were immediately halted, and construction of defensive facilities began instead.
Chén Yàn then asked, "What about the wounded if you all leave?" The village chief glanced towards the camp. Several wounded individuals were leaning against tree trunks, panting.
The youngest child was squatting on the ground, drawing circles with a twig. She didn't even know her relatives were gone. "Those who can't leave, those who have lost their parents, their fate can only be left to the gods," the village chief said, his voice as flat as a slate as he looked away.
"Huh? Left to the gods? Isn't that just letting them wait for death?"
"You might think we are a cold-blooded and heartless people, but we are already struggling just to take care of ourselves." He paused, adding, "Please be sure to understand this. Thank you very much for your tireless help.
Now, please allow me to take my leave." The village chief removed his felt hat and placed it over his chest, bowing his head to Chén Yàn in deep respect. Chén Yàn, controlling his mecha, waved in return, wishing them a smooth journey ahead.
The refugees began to leave one after another. The long line, like a winding earthworm, snaked its way along Serren Avenue. The camp suddenly emptied, leaving only the sound of the wind rustling through the treetops and the low moans of the wounded.
The child drawing circles stopped, looked up at the mecha, her eyes as bright as if holding dew. The metallic shell gleamed coldly under the sun. Chén Yàn didn't move an inch.
The joy of discovering human civilization had been dulled by the shadow of war. Regardless of whether to intervene in the natives' war, these wounded and children were enough to cause a headache. Without food or medicine, these people might not survive tomorrow.
The wind swirled a few dead leaves, hitting the mecha's legs with a rustling sound. Chén Yàn looked at those left behind. The silence from the cockpit spread out, intertwining with the desolation of the camp.
"Argo, what should I do?" "The current situation falls under Article 1, Chapter 3 of the Interstellar Peace Law. If suspected intelligent beings and their created civilization are discovered on a target planet, the immigration plan shall be immediately terminated, and contact shall be made with the intelligent civilization through diplomatic means."
"I'm not asking about that. I'm asking what to do about these people?" Chén Yàn pointed to the screen displayed inside the cockpit.
Those abandoned refugees were weeping helplessly, not knowing what to do or what fate awaited them. Argo's electronic voice was calm and steady: "According to Article 7, Chapter 3 of the Interstellar Peace Law, without establishing diplomatic relations with an intelligent civilization, its internal affairs, including wars and people's livelihoods, shall not be interfered with. Our primary mission now is resource exploration.
Establish contact with Earth as soon as possible and seek instructions for the next steps." "Resource exploration?" Chén Yàn's lips curled into a self-mocking smile, but his eyes turned red from his recent agitation.
"The Imperial Army is about to reach here. Will their war stop and say, 'Please mine first'? And those resources—you just said not to interfere with internal affairs, including war and people's livelihoods.
But don't these resources also belong to the natives' property? Digging them up, would that be considered theft or robbery?" "In legal definitions, undeveloped resources can be prioritized for extraction by the discovering party."
Argo displayed the holographic text of the Interstellar Peace Law, floating before Chén Yàn. "Furthermore, the Empire's invasion is an internal conflict of this planet. According to regulations, it should be reported to the Earth Joint Government, and their diplomatic department will decide whether to intervene after assessment."
"Laws? These are just Earth's laws. Can they apply to alien civilizations?
Will the natives recognize them?" Chén Yàn looked up abruptly, his gaze sharp as if tempered with ice, piercing the holographic text. "Then tell me, by the time the Earth Joint Government receives the news, will these wounded have turned to bones?
And that child—" His Adam's apple bobbed. His gaze fixed on the child in the image, poking an anthill with a twig. His previously sharp eyes slowly softened.
"Can she wait for a diplomat to deliver a business card?" "Survival is the instinct of all intelligent beings. The natives have their own ways of dealing with crises.
Our intervention might disrupt the balance," Argo's voice remained unvarying. "Moreover, current communication is interrupted, and the emergency avoidance rule should apply. If the natives protest, the diplomatic department should negotiate a solution with them."
"Emergency avoidance?" Chén Yàn looked down at the flickering legal texts, raised his hand, and turned off the holographic projection. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and his eyes brightened as if an explorer lost at sea had suddenly discovered a new continent.
"The emergency avoidance rule also includes handling the situation according to on-site circumstances, right?" He moved the mecha forward half a step, its huge shadow falling precisely over the child. "I don't understand your meaning."
Argo was rational, but not foolish. It knew what Chén Yàn was implying, but for it, an unspoken command naturally had lower priority than rigid rules. "I am on-site, the sole representative of Earth humans.
In the absence of contact with Earth, I naturally have the highest command authority. Is that correct?" Argo was silent for a few seconds before responding: "Yes."
"If the natives merely protest, then the diplomatic department can indeed negotiate a settlement. But once it escalates to armed conflict, to protect the base, there will inevitably be heavy casualties. This will evolve into an interstellar war.
To avoid this situation, I need to negotiate with the owners of the mineral resources and conduct resource extraction after obtaining permission." "I don't think the owners of the mineral resources will agree unless force is used." "But my approach is more in line with the legal provisions, right?"
"Yes." Unexpectedly, Argo's legal provisions, as a "weapon," had now become Chén Yàn's sharp edge. In reality, the artificial intelligence installed in the mecha did not deny the pilot's authority.
It only answered this way because Chén Yàn had asked questions. If he had given the order earlier, none of this would have happened. "Since that's the case, I will set up a refugee camp near the base and provide them with only the minimum life support.
Because we are outsiders, we always need to show some goodwill to be understood and accepted by the natives, and it can also provide some favorable conditions for future resource negotiations." Argo was silent for a few seconds, as if evaluating Chén Yàn's proposal. Finally, it agreed: "From a humanitarian perspective, I agree with your proposal.
The establishment of the refugee camp will not affect the base construction." "Alright! That's settled then."
Chén Yàn walked towards the camp. The screen showed the scene: an elder with white hair and beard leaned on a cane. Two old women were comforting young children.
Three injured adults were fortunately only lightly wounded. Two men had sprained ankles, and another had his arm and right leg bandaged, making him immobile and constantly groaning. The woman in the gray skirt had a severely swollen right arm, likely fractured, and was using a scarf to support it against her chest.
Nineteen children also had varying degrees of abrasions and contusions, the most serious being a forehead wrapped with layers of bandages. The three oldest girls, who looked no more than fifteen, had eyes filled with the daze of survival and the sorrow of losing loved ones. Only the younger children, with their innocence, brought a touch of comfort to the camp.
Chén Yàn's voice came through the loudspeaker, at a moderate volume, yet clearly encompassing the entire camp: "You can take any of the goods left behind. My base will be able to produce food soon, so use these to get by for now." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the adults.
"Those who are able, please look after the children. It's not very safe around here, so don't let them wander off." Aila immediately nodded, her voice weak but firm: "Understood, benefactor."
Her blue skirt was stained with mud, and her forehead was bandaged. Here, fifteen years old was practically considered an adult, and Aila perhaps had such a realization. The mecha left the camp with light steps, but the weight of its metal body made the ground tremble, causing even the children under the tarpaulins to instinctively shrink back.
Chén Yàn controlled the mecha towards the stream, using the double-bladed sword to cut through the waist-high mugwort. Where the blade passed, the grass stems snapped cleanly. Then, using the excavator to crush the rocks and level the soil, in just twenty minutes, a construction site was cleared.
"Argo, begin constructing the refugee camp." "Command received. Searching for refugee camp related data, deploying blueprints, determining scale based on current population.
Mobile homes begin construction." Eight cubic nodes popped out from the back of the mecha. These nodes could be freely combined, extending connecting rods from any direction to form a cube.
The print head slid along the track on the cube, spraying nano-grade printing material. Immediately after, a blue laser spread out like silk, high-temperature heating as if chasing the print head, instantly sintering and solidifying the material. Just as Chén Yàn was staring at the construction progress displayed on the screen, calculating material consumption, Argo's electronic voice suddenly sounded.
"Warning: Life form detected approaching construction area. Based on heat source size, it is a refugee child." Chén Yàn looked at the small window in the lower right corner of the screen.
Toby was walking towards the construction site with a look of infatuation. "Danger, don't come closer!" he shouted urgently.
Since Chén Yàn hadn't controlled his volume well, the shout could be heard several kilometers away. It must be said that a loud warning was indeed effective. Toby trembled all over, his feet as if nailed to the spot, unable to advance or retreat, his small face pale.
"Toby!" Aila's voice came from afar. She ran over despite her injured head.
Seeing Toby frozen in place, her face instantly turned red. She pulled Toby over and bowed deeply towards the mecha again: "I'm sorry, benefactor. I wasn't watching him.
I'll take him back now." Chén Yàn watched their retreating figures on the screen, his brow relaxing slightly. The sound of the stream flowing over pebbles mixed with the slight hum of the framework.
When Chén Yàn's mecha led the refugees to the stream, everyone was stunned on the spot by the sight before them. A five-meter-high stone wall rose as if it had suddenly grown from the earth like a giant python. The pebbles embedded in the rebar cage gleamed pale blue in the sun.
The alloy gate shone with cold, hard metal. The electric fence on the wall occasionally flickered with a blue arc—this was no refugee camp, but a fortress capable of withstanding thousands of troops. "This...
this was really built in one morning?" The white-haired elder, leaning on his cane, trembled as he touched the stone wall. The iron bars of the rebar cage hurt his palm, but the astonishment in his eyes slowly sank to the bottom.
The taciturn old woman let go of the child she was holding and looked at the three rows of neat iron houses within the wall, tears flowing uncontrollably. Yesterday she was still worried about being dragged away by wild beasts at night, but now she marveled that these houses were even more beautiful than her own simple wooden house. The children under ten years old were crowding around the adults, peeking into the camp, their eyes as bright as if coated with dew.
Chén Yàn's voice came from the mecha's loudspeaker: "The warehouse, kitchen, and bathhouse are all shared. Four people per room; you can allocate yourselves." He paused and added, "The electric fence on the stone wall is electrified.
Touching it will kill you. Make sure to tell the children not to touch it." All the adults present were amazed by such a miracle.
The children were filled with curiosity about the houses made of iron. "Benefactor... You've actually done this much for us.
These kindnesses can't be repaid in ten lifetimes," the elder shouted excitedly. The old woman and the adults also echoed his sentiment. The children, with their bright eyes, craned their necks, looking up at the steel behemoth as if looking up at gods who could build cities.
"This is all I can do. The rest is up to yourselves." Chén Yàn turned the mecha around.
The impact of his metallic feet hitting the ground made the stone wall tremble slightly. "There are still some supplies in the temporary camp. I'll go fetch them."
The mecha's steps were unhesitating, and it soon disappeared from their sight. Only when the trembling sound faded did the refugees pour into the camp, examining it carefully from top to bottom, inside and out. After all, this would be their home for some time to come.
The supplies brought by the mecha were placed in the warehouse. With things settled, Chén Yàn had fulfilled his promise and it was time to withdraw. As he left, he said, "I'll be on the hilltop.
Come and call me if you need anything." As dusk fell, the few adults gathered indoors to discuss matters. The elder tapped his cane: "Benefactor has given us a way to live; we can't just accept this kindness for nothing."
His cloudy eyes swept over everyone. "In this world, there are no favors given for free. We must think about...
what we can offer in return." The adult men moved their lips but ultimately remained silent. They were penniless now, so what could they offer to the all-powerful Chén Yàn?
Perhaps the solitary man needed a companion. After all, he was also a man and understood the loneliness of being alone, but the words just wouldn't come out. It would be like offering a woman who had lost her relatives as a gift, which might lead to an unfavorable outcome.
The only adult female bit her lip and said with difficulty, "The only thing I can offer is myself." Her voice was very soft, but it hushed the surroundings instantly. Another young girl nodded in agreement: "Yes, rather than being defiled by the Imperial Army and the Bandits, it's better to offer ourselves to Benefactor."
They thought very clearly. It was ultimately someone's responsibility that they had fallen into such a state. No matter where they fled, the threat of the Empire was always a lingering ghost.
The children who had lost their parents slept embracing each other in the next room. Their immature minds were naturally excluded. At their age, they should have been living carefree lives under the protection of their parents, but now, hunger and death could take their young, fragile lives at any moment.
The atmosphere in the room was heavy. The elder simply sighed, offering no reply. The stream outside the camp flowed noisily, and the blue arc of the electric fence flashed occasionally.
The mirror-like wall panels reflected the complex expressions on everyone's faces—gratitude, fear, and a hint of the humble choices they had to make in the face of survival.