The moment the hoods and cloaks that concealed their stench and blocked spiritual scans were ripped away, a horrifying reek exploded across the plaza.
The civilians recoiled as if they had stepped into dog filth, leaping backward frantically, terrified that even a moment's hesitation would let the stench consume them.
"Damn it! What the hell are these things?!"
"Plague! This is plague!"
"Quick, surround them and burn them alive! If it spreads, we'll all rot into corpses like them!"
Panic swept through the crowd, fermenting into a twisted instinct: the urge to annihilate any possible threat, born from fear itself.
The Defense Force rushed in, separating the civilians from those who, to the naked eye, seemed no more than victims of some horrific contagion.
The captain of the squad wiped the sweat off his brow, forcing back the bile rising in his throat. He choked down the stench—a stench so foul it felt as if it could soil the soul itself—and barked to the messenger beside him:
"Report this to Commander Law immediately! Go, now!"
The runner shoved through the crowd, sprinting madly toward the outer perimeter.
Meanwhile, among the mass of corrupted beings, a single leader emerged.
His bloated, misshapen body—swollen by growths—was bound tight with several leather straps, so deep they cut into his distended flesh. Yellow-green pus seeped through the belts, making him look like a slab of pork that had been tied up for smoking but rotted before it ever dried.
He strode forward until he stood just a few meters from the Defense Force's encirclement. Civilians on that side shrieked and stumbled back, creating a wide pocket of open ground.
A few fearless ruffians slipped into the gap, eager to spectate the chaos up close, grinning with morbid excitement.
The corrupted man lifted his swollen arm, slick with pus and bloated like a waterlogged corpse, tugging at the straps that bound him.
The motion twisted what remained of his human face into a mask of agony.
But in that agony, he seemed to find strength—strength to voice his accusation.
His hoarse, grief-laden words burst out, flecked with yellow-green spittle:
"Why are you afraid of us?!"
"A month ago, we were no different from you—ordinary people of the Lower City!"
"Maybe we couldn't set foot in the Middle City, but at least we could work, we could eat, we could live with dignity by our own labor!"
"It was these Defense Force soldiers! They deceived us, luring us with the promise of recruitment, feeding us their so-called body enhancement drugs!"
"To join the Defense Force is the dream of every man—we took the medicine without hesitation!"
"And this… this is the enhancement they gave us!"
He pounded his swollen chest as he roared, spraying pus in all directions, drawing screams from the crowd.
But this time, the cries of the civilians carried less fear—and more sympathy. Sympathy for these wretches, and unease that they themselves might someday share the same fate.
The Defense Force captain exchanged a grave look with his lieutenant. Both men understood instantly: they were in serious trouble.
Their rank wasn't high enough to be privy to Commander Law's true directives, but they had heard whispers—rumors that Law was carrying out "special reforms" in the Lower City.
They had assumed that meant stronger patrols, stricter searches, better crime control.
They never dreamed it meant this.
Human experimentation.
And failed human experimentation at that.
"What bullshit enhancement drugs—how could they turn people into this?!"
The jeering cries of the ruffians cut through the air, voicing aloud the same disbelief that gnawed at the captain's gut.
And who could say? For all they knew, those same "enhancements" were already being slipped into the daily rations of the Defense Force itself.
"Lies! Slander! Spreading poison to deceive the masses!"
A voice, dripping with fury, crashed down from the heavens, shaking the plaza.
Commander Law himself had arrived—personally, and without delay!
The crowd roared with shock.
If the accusations weren't true, why would the lofty Governor of Pirate Star, supreme commander of the Defense Force, descend upon the scene in person?
"Defense Force, hear my order! Seize these abominations! Any who resist—execute on the spot! Leave none alive!"
The plaza erupted into chaos.
Even if these were lies—wasn't this response far too extreme? To slaughter them outright, without even an investigation?
In an instant, the crowd's sympathy and unease boiled into open protest.
"Governor, shouldn't you at least investigate why they've become like this?"
"Are you sure no one in the Defense Force is conducting human experiments in secret?"
"Couldn't this be someone impersonating the Defense Force to harm us Lower City folk?"
"Governor, shouldn't you stand for us—give us an answer?"
"Suppressing them like this—isn't that just killing witnesses?!"
"Absolute power breeds absolute corruption! He's both governor and commander, hoarding all authority for himself—how could that not go wrong?!"
"Exactly! With Lord Roya leading the expedition, who's left to keep him in check?!"
Murmurs swelled into accusations, into the simmering fury of the masses.
Agitated voices spurred the crowd forward. Slowly, inexorably, the civilians pressed against the Defense Force barricades.
The captain raised his eyes to the sky, seeking in Law's face the faintest hesitation—praying for the command to be rescinded.
But all he saw was a cold, merciless gaze.
"What are you waiting for? Have I lost command of you?!"
The captain flinched, unable to meet his eyes.
He clenched his teeth, drew his blade, and pointed it at the bloated leader who stood defiantly at the front of the plague-ridden mob.
After swallowing hard, he gave the order:
"Seventh Squad, Fifth Regiment—move in! Resist, and kill without mercy!"
Boom!
The civilians exploded into madness.
"Bastards! You lunatics! They're still human!"
"You poisoned them with false medicine, and now you want to kill them to hide it?!"
Unarmed, unafraid of blades, the civilians charged the Defense Force from every side.
Chaos—absolute chaos—erupted.
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