143: Liberated Areas

Jonnison, along with Black Scale, Poison Fang, and a group of personal guards, left Blade Claw's royal capital.

This time, they did not make a big show of traveling under the banner of the High Priest; instead, they disguised themselves as a group of refugees.

Their tattered clothes concealed their true identities, and their travel-worn appearance made them look quite convincing.

"I say, High Priest, this time is truly... stifling," Poison Fang said, his tone carrying a hint of resentment.

"When have we ever traveled without being surrounded by guards, looking majestic? Now, we're like rats scurrying across the street."

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Jonnison glared at him and lowered his voice. "Are you afraid someone might not know who we are?"

Black Scale was silent and reticent, simply walking along quietly.

He carried a huge, bulging parcel on his back, though it was unclear what it contained.

Jonnison glanced at the two of them and sneered inwardly.

These two idiots really thought they were here to preach?

That one, Blade Claw, was clearly trying to mess with him.

If he didn't keep his wits about him, he would likely be thoroughly swindled.

The locations of the various "Liberated Zones" were mostly in remote areas difficult for the Empire to monitor.

They were formed by the union of multiple Rebel Army strongholds, large and small.

These strongholds originally fought independently and even had friction between them, but under the efforts of the so-called Enlightener, they gradually set aside their prejudices and began to cooperate.

The one Jonnison and his group chose was one of the larger strongholds.

It had originally been an abandoned mine.

The mine tunnels crisscrossed, making it easy to defend and hard to attack.

The Rebel Army had utilized the terrain to turn it into a sturdy fortress.

"Stop! What are you doing here?"

As soon as they approached the stronghold, Jonnison's group was stopped by several Rebel Army soldiers.

"Brothers, we are refugees from the Empire," Jonnison squeezed out an awkward smile. "We... we just couldn't stay there any longer."

He pointed to his own tattered clothes and then to his dejected subordinates behind him, putting on a pitiful act.

The Rebel Army soldiers exchanged glances, a hint of vigilance flashing in their eyes.

They looked Jonnison's group up and down, seemingly judging the truth of their words.

"From the Empire?" A short Rebel Army soldier asked, squinting his eyes. "Do you have a travel permit?"

"A travel permit?" Jonnison was stunned for a moment, then quickly realized.

"Oh, brother, look at our state—do we look like people who could get a travel permit? We snuck out; how would we have time to get one?"

As he spoke, he pulled a small cloth bag from his bosom, opened it, and revealed some of the Empire's food stamps inside.

"Brothers, please be accommodating. We are all suffering people; why make things difficult for each other?"

Jonnison handed over the food stamps, his face filled with a fawning smile.

The Rebel Army soldiers exchanged looks. The short soldier took the food stamps, glanced at them, and a satisfied expression appeared on his face.

"Alright, go on in." The short soldier waved his hand.

"Remember, for our great cause, make sure to go to the Grain Department and turn in all your food stamps to the public treasury. Do not try to get away with anything, because we will send people to check. Also, don't wander around and don't cause trouble, otherwise... hmph!"

He made a throat-slitting gesture, full of menace.

"Yes, yes, yes, we will definitely behave," Jonnison nodded repeatedly and led everyone into the stronghold.

Jonnison led the group through the winding, twisting tunnels of the mine.

On the stone walls on both sides hung dim miner's lamps, their light flickering, casting distorted and strange shadows.

"This place is like a maze," Poison Fang muttered, his voice echoing in the narrow passage.

Black Scale remained silent, simply following quietly at the back of the group.

The parcel on his back swayed gently with his steps.

"Alright, both of you, keep it down," Jonnison scolded in a low voice. "Don't forget why we are here."

They arrived at a relatively spacious cavern.

In the center of the cavern, a few simple tables and chairs were set up, and several Rebel Army soldiers were sitting around, counting something.

"Brothers, we are newcomers. Per the rules, we've come to turn in our food stamps," Jonnison walked forward, his face wearing a fawning smile.

The soldier in charge of registration didn't even look up, saying lazily, "Put them on the table."

Jonnison complied, taking out all the food stamps he had and placing them on the table.

"Count them," the soldier in charge of registration said to someone beside him.

That person picked up the food stamps and began counting them one by one.

His fingers swept quickly over the food stamps, making a "swish, swish" sound.

"Thirty-six in total," the person announced the number.

"That's right, that's right," Jonnison nodded repeatedly. "All our food stamps are here."

The soldier in charge of registration glanced at Jonnison, a trace of suspicion in his eyes, but it was difficult to do certain things openly.

"Alright, you can go now." He waved his hand, signaling Jonnison and the others to leave.

Jonnison didn't move. He rubbed his hands and asked tentatively, "Brother, I'd like to ask you about something."

"What is it?" The soldier in charge of registration asked impatiently.

"We are new here and completely in the dark about the situation. Do you think... you could introduce us to it a bit?" Jonnison kept a smiling face.

"Introduce? What's there to introduce?" The soldier in charge of registration rolled his eyes. "It's only this big here; won't you know once you look around yourselves?"

"Hehe, it's just that... I wanted to get closer to you." Jonnison somehow pulled out a salt stamp and secretly slipped it into the hand of the soldier in charge of registration.

"Look, could you make it convenient for us?"

The soldier in charge of registration glanced at the salt stamp in his hand, and a smile appeared on his face.

"Alright, seeing as you are so sensible, I'll tell you a bit." He cleared his throat.

"This place is one of the largest strongholds in our Liberated Zone. Since you just arrived, it's best to keep a low profile and not cause trouble. Although it's freer here than in the Empire, the rules are much stricter than over there."

"That's true, that's true," Jonnison nodded repeatedly. "We will definitely behave."

"Also," the soldier in charge of registration lowered his voice, "lately, things haven't been peaceful here. You'd better not wander around, lest you bring trouble upon yourselves."

"Not peaceful?" Jonnison's heart stirred, and he pressed further, "In what way is it not peaceful?"

"That... I cannot say more." The soldier in charge of registration shook his head. "Just be careful yourselves."

"Many thanks for the reminder, brother." Jonnison cupped his hands in a salute and led everyone out of the cavern.

"High Priest, what shall we do next?" Poison Fang leaned in close to Jonnison and asked in a low voice.

"First, we act separately," Jonnison said. "We will all split up to gather information. Remember, don't expose our identities."

Poison Fang and Black Scale exchanged glances and agreed.

After setting a meeting point, they quickly disappeared from Jonnison's sight with their subordinates.

Watching them leave, Jonnison muttered to himself, "Blade Claw, what kind of trap have you set for me? I am looking forward to it; I hope it won't be too boring for me."

After saying this, he turned and headed toward another mine tunnel.