Vide got out of bed and tried to move his body. There was no pain in his back at all, proving Lord Knight right—ignoring the wound would allow it to heal quickly.
"How are you feeling?" Kukashim asked. "I should rest a bit longer," replied the old man. "No problem. Didn't I do well yesterday?" Vaid put on his tattered coat and slipped his feet into the icy boots. "Working for them earlier means getting porridge sooner. I can't keep eating from you—this bowl won't last both of us." "Actually, it's quite good. The porridge here is thicker than the relief rations elsewhere, and you can taste a hint of meat," the old man shook his head. "You used to be a patrolman, so you might not know how life is in the slums. The porridge there is just plain water, but they add a few grains of wheat to make it look fuller. They often stuff it with grass roots or leaves. Lord's porridge might not fill us both, but it won't starve us out." "I'd like us both to have enough to eat," he said, tying his shoelaces with a smile.
"Alright," Kukashim sighed. "Take care of yourself and don't overstep your bounds." It was strange—Vide realized he had become like an elder, even though he was just a scapegoat chosen by the underworld. What made it even stranger was that he actually found this feeling rather pleasant.
"I'll do it," he said with a laugh, shaking his head and putting on his hood. "You'll do it too." As soon as he pushed the door open, he saw two men standing outside. Their white uniforms, embroidered with light blue shoulder stripes and cuff insignia, revealed their identity—they were municipal office clerks.
Vide's brow furrowed slightly. "Who are you looking for?" One of them pulled out a piece of paper and glanced at it. "You're Vide?" "Yes." "What happened?" Kukashim had also noticed the situation outside.
"Congratulations," the other man said with a smile. "You've passed the written test for the police officers. Now you'll undergo a week of comprehensive training," he handed a small card to Vaid. "This is your temporary ID. Take it to the Second Army Camp, where someone will welcome you." Vaid stared wide-eyed. "I... passed Lord's assessment?" "Not yet," the officer replied. "The written test is just the first round of screening. You'll need to complete the training and gain Chief Knight's approval to become a full-fledged police officer." With that, they left without asking for money or trying to build rapport, as if they'd come specifically to inform him.
"You've succeeded!" The old man exclaimed, patting Wade's shoulder with excitement. "Remember your words? You said you'd never be chosen." Wade stammered after a moment. "Because those questions were so bizarre." The old man's face turned pale. "What questions?" He recalled the events a week earlier. When he learned Your Royal Highness had recruited police officers—essentially a renamed patrol unit—he applied to the city hall as instructed. The response was swift. Within just five days, he received a test invitation.
Wei De was confident in his selection, as he not only fully met the criteria outlined in the announcement but also possessed over five years of practical experience. Moreover, the town indeed lacked sufficient community supervisors, making his chances of being chosen highly probable. If he were to become a patrol officer, he could assist Kukaxim at any time, even while residing in the inner city.
But he never expected the test to exceed everyone's expectations from the very beginning.
Over a hundred candidates were seated in a grand hall. Lord Knight handed out stacks of papers one by one, demanding answers to all listed questions and requiring neat handwriting, while declaring that His Royal Highness would be the final examiner. The test method immediately caused a stir among the crowd. Although the notice stated that literacy was required, no one expected the authorities to take it seriously.
At that moment, most people were stunned. While Vaid could decipher the questions on paper, he stood frozen after a quick scan—what were these bizarre questions? For instance: "You are a carriage driver, driving a four-wheeled carriage along a narrow mountain path with two civilians inside. Suddenly, a group of refugees appears ahead. With no time to dodge, you must choose between crashing into them or letting the carriage plunge off a cliff. The former would kill many refugees, while the latter would claim the lives of the two civilians. In either case, your agile movements would ensure your survival. What would you choose? Explain your reasoning in at least three hundred words." The question was utterly baffling. Though it mentioned civilians on one side and refugees on the other, the exact numbers were vague, making any meaningful comparison impossible. Moreover, he always felt that crashing into a group of refugees might seem trivial, but it wasn't necessarily the answer Your Royal Highness wanted.
So, is it the right answer to let civilians die?
The entire sheet was filled with similarly bizarre questions. He even suspected Your Highness was deliberately making things difficult for them, as the actual police officers had already been selected.
"Nothing, maybe I was wrong," Vaid took a deep breath. "Then I'll head to the camp now." "Well," Kukashim laughed heartily, "I think you'll definitely become a full-fledged police officer."...
The second military camp was situated north of the town, beyond the inner city's stone walls. When Vaid arrived, he found Chief Knight already waiting in the camp.
"From this moment, you are the reserve police," Carter declared after the assembly, "and you must remain in this camp for the next week to undergo specialized training. Those who pass will stay; those who fail must return to their original posts! I will teach you the true meaning of discipline and the duty to serve Your Royal Highness!" This was the kind of rigorous assessment Vaid had always imagined—yet... of the hundred or so applicants, only fifteen had been selected. Glancing around, he noticed that apart from himself, the others were clearly local residents, judging by their attire and complexion.
As expected, the requirement for literacy was no joke.
"Report!" Someone raised their hand.
Carter grinned. "Oh? You know the military stuff pretty well? Go on." "Heh heh, my brother's in the First Army," the man stroked his temple. "May I ask, sir, what exactly is a police officer? Aren't we public security officers?" "Police officers are part of the public security system. Think of them as law enforcement officers in Your Highness's domain—responsible for apprehending criminals, cracking down on illegal activities, maintaining order, enforcing policies issued by Your Highness and the City Hall, and assisting citizens in need." "Assisting citizens? But you just said we serve Your Royal Highness..." "There's no difference. Citizens serving Your Highness are essentially serving Your Highness. So, do you still want to enter the castle to serve him?" Carter shrugged. "Let's become excellent Knights first." Yet Knights were all Nobles... Vaid thought. Their status was worlds apart from commoners' —not something you could just aspire to.
Remember, you are both enforcers of the law and guardians of the people. Now, go to the tent and change into your uniforms, "Chief Knight clapped his hands." Next, there's a mission for you to complete.