Chapter 125: Execution
“Marinus Flanagan, guilty of murder, treason, enslavement, unlawful detention… In the name of the God Emperor, sentenced to death!”
“Jesse Dutra, guilty of murder, fraud… In the name of the God Emperor, sentenced to death!”
“Lloyd Yukik, guilty of…”
…
Many individuals, dressed in once fine clothing now dirty from imprisonment and interrogation, were bound and knelt on the ground.
They looked up at Lambert, who sat on the judgment seat reading their charges, but none made a sound in protest.
They could not speak—their tongues had been cut out to prevent any outbursts at such a significant occasion.
All they needed to do was show their faces and await their fate.
In reality, they weren’t the first batch. Ahead of them, beneath the platform, was another blood-stained platform.
Just moments before, at the pace of ten per round, convicts were dragged to the lower stage after their sentences, each facing the barrel of a gun at the back of the head. At the warden’s command, gunshots rang out simultaneously, and each person collapsed forward, blood spurting everywhere.
Immediately after, others would come forward to drag the bodies away, while workers with buckets splashed water on the platform and quickly mopped up before the next group’s sentences were read.
It couldn’t possibly be cleaned in one go; by the time the next batch was brought in, the ground was still damp, and the stench of blood filled the air.
There were those who wet themselves in fear or twisted around to resist… it was common but meaningless.
Another command followed, another round of gunfire, and another group received their sentence…
Lambert had prepared enough prisoners to require over twenty rounds of executions to finish them all.
During this period of terror and political purging in the Revival City inner district, nearly two thousand people had been arrested.
Naturally, not all of them were brought here for execution. Not everyone received a death sentence, and sentencing and executing two thousand individuals one by one would take far too long.
About two hundred people, as a symbolic gesture, were selected for execution. Another four or five hundred death row inmates would be dealt with later.
Among those arrested, some were indeed innocent and were released, around five hundred or so. The remaining thousand were all sentenced to hard labor, destined for the mines in the ruins of the Wasteland Society’s former site.
This group, by wasteland standards, seemed relatively unscathed, likely never having endured high-intensity labor. After five years in the pitch-black mines, who could say how many would survive by the end of their sentence?
Beneath the execution platform lay the viewing plaza.
Located in front of the Alliance Parliament Hall, this large square could comfortably hold twenty thousand people.
Now, around half that number—about ten thousand—were present.
These spectators were primarily among the top ten percent of inner-city residents in terms of status and rank.
They had been ‘invited’ to witness the trial, and when they received the invitation, they were deeply moved.
The unfolding scene indeed sent chills down their spines.
Among those executed, there were many they knew or were familiar with.
In the past, these had been their leaders, their superiors, their bosses.
Whenever they encountered them, they likely bowed, greeted them warmly, hoping for any scraps of favor that might lead to a better meal; a little assistance from them might have meant greater opportunities in the future.
But now, these once-high individuals lay before them, like dead dogs, being executed in batches.
Throughout the trial, the crowd fell silent in terror.
The Governor was truly serious this time.
For many, this brought vivid memories of the rule of the second-generation Governor six years ago…
No, this was even more extreme than the second-generation Governor.
Back then, the second-generation Governor imposed his reign of terror, demanding excessive taxes and relying on the Alliance’s own administrative and military forces. Although a time of fear and catastrophe, since administrative means required the Alliance’s system for enforcement, many were already part of this system and enforced the terror themselves.
More often than not, the terror didn’t fall upon them.
But the new Governor was different. He had built his own power from the ground up, a power that carried out his will. The new Governor genuinely had no need for them.
With over two thousand people arrested and two hundred being executed one by one on the high stage, as easily as slaughtering pigs, nearly all leaders of the Alliance’s ruling class and interest groups were swept away.
Did this not prove the Governor’s determination and ruthlessness?
Now, they truly felt it—Revival City, the Alliance, even the entirety of Fury Owl Planet had completely changed.
…
Gu Hang stood on the highest platform, silently overlooking it all.
Neither the blood on the execution stage nor the silent, fearful crowd below caused his expression to change even slightly.
Destroying the existing order—this was exactly what he was doing. His goal was to clear the way to establish his own desired order.
His approach to the inner-city residents was different from his approach to the outer-city people.
Outer-city people were poor, destitute, starving. To them, he showed benevolence, instilling hope and building authority. By filling their bellies, keeping them warm, and allowing them stability, they would naturally become his power base.
Inner-city people had lived relatively well; attempting to buy them off with more benefits would be inefficient. Instead, he used decisive methods to plant terror in their hearts, ensuring they wouldn’t dare to become obstacles.
Gu Hang was determined not to let the inner-city residents act as parasites anymore. Furthermore, he intended to drain their resources heavily; after all, who would bear the cost of winning over the outer-city people if not them?
Contrary to expectations, clearing out the city’s elite hadn’t brought Gu Hang much practical value.
Money was meaningless. The so-called Alliance Coins, issued by the Alliance government with limited circulation, were no different from waste paper in Gu Hang’s view.
He hadn’t yet abolished the use of Alliance Coins entirely, but it was only a matter of time.
Gu Hang had no patience to bother with a financial industry.
Could finance help pay taxes? Could he negotiate with the Imperial tax officers using Alliance Coins?
Certainly not.
Currency was merely a tool for regulating the economy.
In some ways, the destructive storm orchestrated by the Original Owl Beast Sect had been helpful to Gu Hang. With the outer-city people left nearly destitute, Gu Hang realized he had no need to maintain Revival City’s original financial system.
The most important thing he’d obtained from these so-called elites were the industries they once controlled.
Soon, Gu Hang would largely abolish and no longer recognize the use of Alliance Coins, effectively impoverishing the entire inner-city populace. The wealth they’d accumulated would, under this decision, become nothing but waste paper piled in their homes.
They wouldn’t be left entirely with nothing—they still had their homes and supplies, far better off than those in the outer city starting from scratch.
But their past lives would be gone forever.