24: Chapter 24 The Iron-Blooded Interrogation and the Cornerstone of the Empire

Dawn Base, underground holding cells.

This place was originally a water dungeon used to detain disobedient "piglets," but Zhang Cheng had modified it slightly into an interrogation room.

However, the subjects had been replaced by those once-aloof warlord leaders.

Yanken, the once-arrogant Yang Family commander from Wild Wolf Valley, was currently suspended in mid-air by iron chains.

His majestic camouflage uniform had been whipped into shreds, leaving no patch of uninjured skin on his body. His face was covered in blood, filth, snot, and tears.

"I'll talk! I'll talk! Stop hitting me! Please, stop hitting me!" Yanken shrieked, his voice sounding like a slaughtered pig.

Zhang Cheng sat on a clean chair, playing with a seized gold-plated pistol in his hand—it was Yanken's sidearm.

"Wouldn't it have been easier if you'd cooperated sooner?" Zhang Cheng said indifferently, his eyes devoid of pity. "You insisted on doing things the hard way."

"Brigadier General Yang... Yang Maoliang sent me!" Yanken spilled everything like beans from a bamboo tube. "Besides him, there's... there's the Bai Family and the Liu Family! They're all eyeing this piece of fat! The park used to give each of their families a cut every month, but now that you've taken over the whole pot, they... they're all going crazy!"

"What else?"

"And... he said he's going to tear you into ten thousand pieces and take the park back!"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Cheng's face showed no fear; instead, he let out a cold, heartfelt sneer.

"An alliance? A bunch of clay chickens and pottery dogs gathered together are still just clay chickens and pottery dogs."

He stood up, walked over to Yanken, and patted Yanken's greasy cheek with the gun barrel.

"I'll give you a chance to live. Do you want it?"

Yanken's eyes widened, and he nodded frantically. "Yes! Yes! Lord Sovereign, just say the word! As long as you don't kill me, I'll do anything! I'll be your dog!"

"You're not worthy of being my dog." Zhang Cheng pulled the gun back in disgust. "I want you to go back."

"Go... go back?" Yanken was stunned.

"Correct. Go back and tell Yang Maoliang, as well as that Bai Family and Liu Family." Zhang Cheng's voice suddenly became incredibly chilling, as if coming from the depths of the nine hells. "Tell them that this park now belongs to Zhang! It is Zhang Cheng's territory!"

"I can choose not to settle the old debts with them. But from this day forward, if anyone dares to reach their claws in here again, if anyone dares to harbor any more wicked thoughts..."

Zhang Cheng paused and pointed outside. "The hundreds of corpses at Gunlong Gorge are the example. I don't mind filling the mountain gullies of Northern Myanmar with a few thousand more lives!"

"Now get out!"

As if granted a grand amnesty, Yanken was dragged out by the Death Soldiers, scrambling and crawling.

Zhang Cheng watched his retreating back with profound eyes.

After sending Yanken off, Zhang Cheng turned and walked out of the gloomy basement, arriving at the sun-drenched training ground.

Another "trial" was taking place here.

Over four hundred prisoners were gathered in the open space, surrounded by cold-eyed Death Soldiers armed with live ammunition. Several heavy machine guns were mounted on high ground, their black muzzles pointed at the crowd.

Old K stood on a high platform, holding a list, his voice broadcasting across the field through a loudspeaker:

"You are the defeated. By all rights, you should all die."

The group of prisoners below trembled in fear; some had already begun to wet their pants.

"However, the Sovereign is merciful and will give you a path to live."

Old K waved his hand.

Several Death Soldiers rushed into the crowd and, like grabbing chicks, precisely dragged out over fifty people.

These people were either officers or thugs who usually bullied the locals and had blood on their hands. They had been identified by local victims during the screening process after their capture.

"These fifty-three are laden with blood debts; their deaths are not to be pitied!"

Old K's voice was as cold as a judge's.

"No! Spare me! I don't want to die!"

"I was wrong! I'll never do it again!"

Plea for mercy rang out in unison.

Zhang Cheng stood in the distance, watching the scene expressionlessly. He was no maniac, but he understood that in this world where the strong prey on the weak, if one wanted to establish order, they first had to use blood to wash away sin.

"Execute!"

"Da da da da da—!"

A dense burst of gunfire rang out.

Fifty-three bodies fell into pools of blood.

The remaining three hundred-plus prisoners were so terrified that they all knelt on the ground, burying their heads deep into their clothes, not even daring to breathe loudly.

"The rest of you," Old K continued, "will be incorporated into the Labor Reform Brigade! Go build walls, dig trenches, and work! As long as you honestly atone for your sins, you will be given food and water! Those who perform well may even become our official personnel in the future!"

"Do you understand?!"

"We understand! We understand!" The survivors kowtowed desperately—it was a longing for life and a submission to power.

Watching this, Zhang Cheng turned to Li Lanzhi beside him and said, "Do you see? These are the rules."

Li Lanzhi's face was somewhat pale, but she pursed her lips tightly, her eyes exceptionally firm.

"Sovereign, here is the preliminary personnel classification and resource inventory." Her voice was a bit tired, but her eyes were remarkably bright. "According to your instructions, I have screened one hundred and twenty-three people from the survivors who have a certain educational foundation or professional skills—teachers, accountants, doctors, mechanics..."

Zhang Cheng took the booklet and flipped through it quickly.

The list detailed each person's basic information, skills, and political background. Beside it were comments and classification suggestions written in Li Lanzhi's elegant handwriting.

"Well done," Zhang Cheng praised rarely. "But it's not enough."

"Not enough?" Li Lanzhi asked in confusion.

"Managing a base of thousands with just over a hundred people, while also preparing for the upcoming war, is a drop in the bucket." Zhang Cheng closed the booklet. "We need a more professional, more efficient, and absolutely loyal administrative team."

Li Lanzhi seemed to understand something: "You mean... like the Death Soldiers?"

Zhang Cheng did not answer directly but turned to Old K. "Take Li Lanzhi to the administration building. I have some matters to handle."

"Yes!"

Returning to the command room alone, Zhang Cheng summoned the system interface in his mind.

A Junior Death Soldier summon cost 10 points, but that was for a basic combat unit. If he wanted Death Soldiers with professional skills...

Sure enough, in the advanced options of the summoning interface, Zhang Cheng found what he wanted:

[Specialized Death Soldier Summoning]

[Junior Administrative Specialty Death Soldier: 20 points each]

[Abilities: Possesses basic administrative management knowledge, proficient in handling documents, archives, statistics, scheduling, and other routine administrative tasks. 100% Loyalty, 100% Execution, Innovation Ability: Average.]

At 20 points each, they were twice as expensive as basic Death Soldiers, but considering their professional value, the price was acceptable.

Zhang Cheng did a quick mental calculation: summoning 50 Junior Administrative Death Soldiers would cost 1,000 points. With his current 1,250 points, he would have 250 points left, enough to handle emergencies.

"System, exchange for 50 Junior Administrative Specialty Death Soldiers," Zhang Cheng thought silently.

[Instruction confirmed. Consumed 1,000 points to exchange for Junior Administrative Specialty Death Soldier × 50. Remaining points: 250.]

[Generating Death Soldiers...]

[Generation complete. 50 Junior Administrative Death Soldiers are in position and standing by.]

Almost the instant the system prompt ended, there was a knock on the command room door.

"Reporting!"

Zhang Cheng opened the door to find two rows of people standing neatly outside.

They wore uniform dark-colored outfits and were between 25 and 35 years old, half male and half female. Each stood straight with calm, focused eyes. Unlike the combat Death Soldiers, these people did not have that sharp murderous aura; instead, they possessed a steady and capable temperament.

"You are responsible for assisting Li Lanzhi, understood?"

"Understood!"

Zhang Cheng looked at the organizational structure rapidly taking shape before him—

He was at the top, the absolute core of will. The Death Soldier Legion was his sword and shield, responsible for conquest and suppression. Li Lanzhi's administrative team was his steward, responsible for blood supply and operations. And those labor convicts and survivors were the foundation at the very bottom of this pyramid.

The prototype of a strict, efficient, and ambitious military group had already risen majestically upon these ruins.

"Yang Maoliang, the Four Great Families..." Zhang Cheng looked toward the distant mountains, his gaze like lightning.