Before walking out of the bedroom, Wright and Feng were dressed in neatly Sogra Guard uniforms and military-green legion uniforms, looked at the waiting mirrors in the bedroom, and sorted out some things.
Wright didn't care about tidying up his haggard face, but simply stroked his long black hair with his hands, which looked rough and neat, but not very energetic.
Under Kerton's leadership, Wright walked through the old corridor of the Military Office in the District B Camp and went downstairs along the old staircase with the "war damage" style.
The floor where the "Strategic Command Branch Office" is located is extremely bright. In Wright's view, whether it is morning light or dusk, golden light can always penetrate from all directions, or skylights or open office simple wooden doors, which always make people feel that it is full of emotions known as hope.
But after walking down several floors in turn, the feeling of light became weaker and darker, and the vital breath of darkness enveloped the office building that controls all military operations.
Even when going down to the bottom, combined with the dusk light emitted by the gas lamps that transport fuel from the winding metal pipes hanging on the wall, Wright felt like he was under the Socrates dome with a depressing, dim, dark, dim, and even a somewhat mysterious and bizarre atmosphere.
Although the [soldiers] of various military centers and some civilian staff went in and out, it was difficult to feel the indescribable aura of the lost, and there were many tall, tall and upright soldiers with a strong decent atmosphere, in the dim and swaying gas lamps, Wright could always feel the "dirty fear" that flickered in the dark and mysterious and fantastic environment, as if eroding his spirit.
"Mr. Wright."
Seeing Wright stopping in front of the military gate, patrolling, staring at the faint light on the wall thoughtfully, with a little dull and empty look. Kerton patted Wright's shoulder and shouted vigilantly.
"Ah, ah, I didn't sleep well last night and was a little distracted. You should know, Mr. Certon, I have experienced too many battles during this period and the time has passed too tight, which has led to some mental instability now." Wright, who came back to his senses, quickly explained.
"It can be understood. The temporary report from Socra and Chekavsk Legions this morning showed that you were involved in at least the battle of Kofu Station, the retreat of Migov, and some military missions to the ruins of the city of Donusk. But in terms of any of them, it is dangerous and difficult to survive. But..."
Certon's eyes were flashing abnormally. He did not dare to look directly at the pure black eyes like Wright, as if they were deep abyss and deep universe, and said with a point:
"Powermen usually have many mental problems. Of course, the usual empire [warriors] will also be in battle and suppressing their mental state with high intensity will inevitably collapse. But I want to remind you that the Department of Biology at the University of Shnetsk sent a latest research report called "Viral Infection and Drug Use Rules" to cities, towns, and military strongholds in various places. "
"For normal humans, injection of sequential 13 and 16 drugs, or even double doses of 20 drugs, can solve the problem within two hours after being scratched, bitten, or even chewed.
Although psychopaths can be immune to viruses to a certain extent and only need to regularly inject drug No. 15 for prevention, the accumulation of viruses in weak infections must not be ignored."
"Accumulation in weak infection? How to...understand?" Letterton asked in a daze with a little confused mind.
"In fact, the psychopath is a human with different levels of infection. The infection is shallow, and it is nothing more than an increase in physical strength. If the infection is severe, it can gain a lot of extraordinary strength and even create many scenes that are difficult for normal people to understand. Some are very beautiful and gorgeous. If the infection deepens further and reaches the point where it is necessary to eat fresh meat, he will be closer to the loser."
"As we all know, most powerful losers have difficulty maintaining absolute rationality and are often in a state of mental collapse and trance. But in fact, the three major churches, that is, the Lost Group that needs to be annihilated in this "Silent Advent" campaign, are not considered real losers. In other words, the camps that support change back and forth, and your identities of the psychic and the Lost can change back and forth. After all..."
Kerton showed a bitter and helpless smile, patted Wright on the shoulder heavily, and sighed and said:
"Now the empire is not only short of resources, but also lacks talents. The senior leaders of the empire, especially the crown prince Evante, who holds real power in the royal family, do not have moral integrity. He hopes to unite all forces that can be united and achieve the final and greatest victory protected by the Lord. For this reason, he can use any talent in a irregular manner, including his teacher Aaron. According to rumors, Aaron is a lost person, and may even be a senior member of the Hope Church."
"Aaron?" Wright muttered the name, and his heart twitched.
A hint of undetectable fear appeared at the corner of his mouth, as well as a very subtle twitch and tremor that was difficult to capture with the naked eye.
Aaron, the man who taught me the divination, was in power, and John introduced me to give me some guidance.
Good, if the Socra Committee and even the Empire knew that I and the Lost Me, things would have become complicated and weird.
Taking a deep breath and trying to calm the depression brought by the space and the topic we were talking about, Wright smiled slightly, glanced at the right without hesitation, scratched his itchy hair a few times, and said:
"By the way, Mr. Certon, you, as an inspector of the 'Public Security Team', know so extensively, science, politics, military, simple medicine, and even senior gossip?"
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "This is the responsibility of the 'Public Security Team'. Wright, to look forward to the future, if this war successfully annihilates all the lost people entrenched in the silent highlands, you soldiers on the front line will inevitably be transferred to other departments. Your rank is not low among the 'cannon fodder' at the bottom. If you are lucky enough to be transferred to the 'Public Security Center', you can personally experience our responsibilities. Investigating extraordinary things, assisting patrols, and cooperating with combat, these tasks are not as easy as you imagine."
Kerton said earnestly, leaving Wright with a look worthy of careful consideration and aftertaste.
Following Kerton, he pulled the wind through the dim space at the bottom of the military base, opened the door and came to the courtyard surrounded by a few "high-rise buildings" in the camp in Area B. It was shrouded by the warm and bright morning sunlight. Wright felt unable to adapt for a moment, and felt like he was a different life.
Even though the sun is not vicious and the sun is not full, it is full of the stench of the body of the heartless man, the intoxicating bloody smell that is emitted from time to time in the battle with the lost, the rotten smell of many plants, the unpleasant tail smell of mechanical chariots, the volatile smell of gasoline, and even the burning smell of the ground.
The loneliness that penetrates deep into the soul is like a confusion that is abandoned by the world.
Now the surroundings are finally filled with all kinds of human beings, most of whom are not evil. They gather here to restore the empire and order and are filled with ideal human beings. Wright also feels that he is not alone, not alone, and silenced.
Squinting his eyes and preventing the twitching and tears caused by strong light as much as possible, Wright used his right hand covered with fine wounds and calluses to block the light, and quickly followed Kerton to a cement steel bar structure behind the office building of the Military Office. The exterior was painted with yellow sand-style loess-colored paint for life and entertainment.
...
Up to the third floor of the "Auxiliary Building" and entering the currently empty military restaurant, Wright did not have the time to observe the old furnishings around him, the leathery dining tables, seats, mottled walls filled with burning marks, and occasionally potholes and relatively flat brick and stone floors.
Instead, he followed Kerton through a dark and depressing narrow corridor and came to the room with a metal sign hanging on it for reception of distinguished guests in the camp in Area B.
Pushing open the brand new, covered with red leather, as if it were a wide door used in the Imperial Palace, what caught Wright's eyes was a restaurant that was almost the size of a bedroom that he had just lived in last night.
Very British and European style.
The long dining table is laid with pure white tablecloths, and the overall room is extremely bright, close to the windows with white paper with light transmission ability, reflecting the bright white brilliance. The floor of the "special restaurant" is paved with mahogany, and even a little bit of star-like light.
The surrounding walls are paved with yellowish-style wallpapers printed with sunflowers, iris and sunflowers. At the interval between the two windows opposite, a portrait of the empire emperor Reka I and the crown prince Ivant hung on the protruding wall.
They were all wearing the uniforms of the dark green senior generals of the Sunny Empire, with various metal badges and medals hanging on their chests, wearing white gloves, and crossed their hands above the cane inlaid with gems and gold.
Their semi-purple eyes looked sideways to the upper left, and there were a few lights slightly, as if they were looking forward, looking forward, and looking up at something.
"General Peter, I brought you Wright, and his brother came with him. Do you think Mr. Wright alone to have a meal, or are they two together?"
Seeing Peter standing calmly, Kerton obviously bowed halfway and said in a calm but not rushing voice.
"I probably haven't told you, it's not your fault. I'm a middle-level general in the Socrates' Guards. This is true, but it's a part-time job.
My official identity is the middle-level civilian of the Socra Committee, the Industrial Planning Group, and oh, the current head of the Industrial Planning Group under the ruling group. I don’t like others to call me a general. Wherever you should call me a gentleman or a teacher.” Peter emphasized in a sharp voice.
"Yes... Peter...Sir. Then Wright's brother..."
"Stay outside and let him eat. I can feel that his 'brother' must be a powerful psychic. How can you do not eat enough? If you get mentally broken, not serving the empire is a trivial matter. It would be bad if you carry out indiscriminate bloodthirsty killings like the [Guardian] a few years ago in Socra. Remember, Keton, give him more chicken and beef, and don't forget to give him a box of canned meat." Peter arranged.
"Yes, sir. Then kid, go." Kerton turned around and said to the wind in a thick but extremely "soft" tone.
Feng, who was pulled by Kerton, looked at Wright in a daze. With Wright's nod, he reluctantly followed Kerton away from the bright, luxurious and bright "special restaurant" without saying a word.
"Do it, Wright Socrate, Mr. Supernatural." Peter said in a strange and high tone.
Then, he stretched out his right hand and made a gentlemanly request to Wright.
"Okay... OK." Wright nodded, pulling open the closest chair with white paint and cushions embroidered with complex artistic patterns.
For some reason, since entering the "special restaurant" in the bright hall, Wright unconsciously did not focus on this middle-level general Peter, who claimed to be "middle-level civilian".
It was not until he took his seat smoothly that Wright poured his attention on the man opposite the dining table.
His appearance is actually not ugly, he has the unique atmosphere of being a civilian or even a [scholar]. He is very literary, and his behavior and demeanor are very dignified.
Moreover, he has a round appearance and a wide face, but he does not look obese. It seems that good education has allowed him to control food and energy intake and will not overeat, resulting in changes in his body shape.
Looking closely, there were no wrinkles or scars on this round face, and it seemed that he had not participated in any battle.
In the wasteland world, especially among the soldiers of the Sunnese Empire, it is normal to have some colors on the face and on the body. Even scars can bring people a kind of honor. Soldiers without scars may be despised because they are likely to be cowards who are cowardly.
Peter in front of him seemed very concerned about the tidying of the instrument. He wore a British-style dress, a round-trip hat, a blue bow, and did not hang a tie, but a small golden chain extended from his chest.
According to Wright's guess, there must be a pocket watch hidden in his chest pocket for checking time.
Moreover, he also wore a pair of glasses inlaid with metal lace on his face. Overall, he actually had the impression of a factory owner or entrepreneur who could think of the lighting facilities that can be seen everywhere in big cities, such as "street lights".
"Wright Socra, I'll call you Wright, my name is Peter James, you can call me Teacher Peter.
Needless to say, you should also know that I have two most important purposes here. First, convey to you the tasks that the Socratic Council and the Guard will next arrange for you. Second, recycle the 'Grade of Tomorrow' you obtained." Peter said straight to the point.
"Then..." Wright deliberately paused for a few seconds, lit the dining table with his hands, and then said with a smile:
Chapter completed!