On the four-meter-high city wall, the gate stood less than two meters tall—narrow enough for only one person to squeeze through at a time.
A campfire flickered beside the gate. A guard in uniform and cap, resembling a soldier or officer, stood watch there.
He cradled a tube-like weapon, striking a pose straight out of a shooter game poster.
*That thing… Could it be a boomstick—no, a shotgun!?*
*Had military tech advanced this far in this world??*
But a closer look revealed my mistake. It was merely a simple projectile device, lacking even a sealed metal barrel.
The guard had already spotted me. I swallowed my guesses and walked toward him naturally.
Guard: …………
His eyes raked over me again and again, making my skin crawl.
Guard: A refugee? Huh. Didn’t expect refugees at the South Gate…
Guard: Lucky break, kid. No checks today thanks to the opportunity.
Seventh Ju: …??
Guard: Straight ahead to Central Plaza. You’ll see it.
Seventh Ju: …Oh.
I slipped into the city with surprising ease.
*“You’ll see it”? See what?* Well, checking it out couldn’t hurt. Might even be the job opportunity!
Still, being labeled a “refugee” by that guard nagged at me.
From high school history, I recalled: highly centralized states strictly controlled household registries. Refugees challenged that system. Policies toward them were usually harsh.
But this refugee identity conveniently hid my otherworldly origins—the one silver lining. A reminder to tread carefully from now on.
Inside the city, a wide stone-and-mud road stretched before me.
To my left stood identical two-story buildings in a 19th-century foreign consulate style, slightly plainer.
To my right, similar structures were under construction. Workers and foremen bustled amid shouts, painting a lively scene.
Two-meter-tall black streetlamps lined the road. A worker pushed a cart, climbed a ladder, and poured liquid fuel into each lamp one by one.
Pale light tinged with red spilled out instantly—a signal that night was falling over the city.
Farther ahead, consulate-style buildings on the left gave way to storefronts. Pedestrians thickened.
The construction site on the right had silently transformed into finished buildings, including a lavish four-story inn.
Light poured generously from windows, mingling with the streetlamps’ glow.
I wandered as if strolling through a peaceful, unnamed nation of the 18th or 19th century.
The broad road ended at a massive circular plaza, where four avenues converged. I’d arrived via one of them.
My gaze snapped to the front-right.
In a meticulously planned city, that area should’ve held buildings. Instead, a “forest” of tents sprawled across the flat, empty ground.
Camouflage-green tents dotted the space—tiny ones for a single person, massive ones sheltering hundreds.
*What’s this? Group camping? No… this is inside a city.*
I crept to a small tent and asked cautiously.
Seventh Ju: Uh, excuse me—what’s this place—
Before I finished, a man in the same uniform as the gate guard emerged from the tent.
Soldier: Huh? Here to enlist? Head to the biggest tent over there.
Seventh Ju: Oh… right.
*Enlist? So this is a recruitment drive!*
This undeveloped zone was clearly hiring construction workers.
Manual labor? Skilled trades might pay better than farming.
Also… I still had no place to sleep tonight. Meeting future coworkers would ease my mind.
Perfect first step to blend into this society.
I lifted the flap of the largest tent on the grounds.
Dozens crowded inside. Most sat on the ground; a few near the edges stood chatting.
Some figures didn’t even look human.
No one glanced my way as I entered.
Lamps like the streetlights glowed in the corners, air holes deliberately cut near each flame.
If not for the heavy silence, it might’ve felt like a banquet hall.
Everyone seemed to have waited ages. I found a quiet corner and sat alone.
Just as I settled, the tent flap lifted again.
A young man with short golden hair strode in. His crisp, high-ranking military uniform radiated authority—youthful yet undeniably commanding.
A black-haired senior officer followed closely, likely his aide or bodyguard.
Every head turned. Many seated people jumped to their feet.
Only then did I realize the atmosphere was all wrong. *This wasn’t a construction site hiring hall.*
*Right… I should’ve recognized their uniforms when I asked!*
The dread hit like realizing you’ve failed the final exam just as the bell rings.
No choice now. I’d have to endure this to the end.
Golden-Haired Officer: Apologies for the delay. Personal matters detained me.
Golden-Haired Officer: You’re the last batch of applicants today. As compensation, I’ll treat everyone to dinner and lodging tonight—regardless of the outcome.
He paused, scanning faces for resentment. Seeing none, he continued.
Golden-Haired Officer: A belated introduction: I am Preman, Deputy Commander of Sincere Kingdom’s National Defense Force and overall leader of this Pioneer Team. This is my aide, Aiton.
Golden-Haired Officer: I know many traveled far to be here. I won’t send you away empty-handed, but basic tests are necessary.
Golden-Haired Officer: Stay calm. Even raw strength is valuable—we need laborers for supply transport.
Golden-Haired Officer: My aide will distribute essential materials. Simple facts to memorize.
Golden-Haired Officer: We begin in thirty minutes. Aiton.
Aide: Understood.
The officer moved through the crowd, handing out papers covered in text.
Silence held, but restless energy crackled—shoulders squared, jaws set.
The papers reached me. I still hadn’t processed what was happening.
Seventh Ju: …………
Seventh Ju: …Hah?
Seventh Ju: Pioneer Team??
