NOVEL NEXT Chapter 497: Mercenaries 3
"Beep~ Beep~ Beep~"
The loud sound of a bugle echoed throughout the camp, signaling that it was mealtime.
Doug and Patton, carrying wooden lunchboxes, queued up at the kitchen, already finding more than thirty people lined up ahead of them.
"Hey, Big Doug!"
"Hey, Patton!"
As the two approached, they were greeted by many.
The mercenaries were not dispersed but were all crammed into this labor camp adjacent to the coal mine.
The Ordo people didn't care whether they maintained the old order of the mercenary group or listened to their former leaders. The Ordo people only needed them to complete their assigned tasks on time.
In Horn Bay, mercenaries, especially those with extensive combat experience, were precious military resources. After capture, they were often incorporated into the army of their captors—these guys were not knights, and loyalty was not their concern. They sided with whoever offered better treatment or promised to restore their freedom.
Initially, some wanted to cause trouble, but the leaders—secretly instigated by Doug and another mercenary group leader, Ferguson—were tied up and executed on the spot with a 12-pound cannon by the Ordo people. The shocking scene frightened the mercenaries into submission, and they quickly behaved.
They finally understood that the Ordo people genuinely didn't care about their thoughts, seeing them merely as tools that could move on their own. Any tool causing trouble would be "discarded."
After their faint hopes were crushed by harsh reality, the mercenaries from Horn Bay quickly resigned themselves to their fate as slaves of the Ordo people. This swift mental shift was influenced by the culture of Horn Bay, where it was common to enslave war captives.
Indeed, as long as one accepted their status, life in the labor camp could be quite comfortable.
After serving himself, Doug joined Patton in a communal meal with a group of people.
He first soaked his bread in the soup—failing to do so could break one's teeth—then chewed vigorously after it softened.
Today's soup had a hint of meat flavor, not bad at all.
"Guys! Why haven't we seen Ferguson and his men today?"
Doug looked around as he chewed his bread and asked.
Ferguson was the leader of another mercenary group. They were hired and captured together.
"When I was in line earlier—before you and Patton arrived—I saw his group being rounded up and taken away by the guards," replied a young lad of about sixteen or seventeen.
Doug felt a pang of pity as he looked at the young boy, his life barely begun, now doomed to end in this forsaken place.
"I saw it too."
"Yes, the guard personally came to fetch Ferguson, asking him to lead his group away."
Many provided Doug with information.
What had happened?
Doug was somewhat bewildered. Ferguson and his men had been taken away by the Ordo people?
Were they being taken away for execution? Or… release?
If it was the former, would he and his men be next? If the latter… why? Why them?
Lost in thought, Doug held his bread, staring blankly, oblivious to the calls from those around him.
"Big Doug! Big Doug!"
Patton shook Doug's sleeve persistently.
"Ah? What's up?"
Doug snapped out of his thoughts.
"The guards are calling us."
"What?"
Was it his turn now? Doug's heart trembled at the prospect of an unknown fate.
"All of you!"
The guard, holding a megaphone, shouted, "Immediately gather in the open space outside, within fifteen minutes, immediately!"
Almost reflexively, everyone stood up and ran outside, leaving their unfinished meals behind.
The prisoners had been subjected to a degree of military training in the Alda army style—such as formation, internal affairs, and daily runs—for ease of management.
After assembly, a person in Alda military uniform walked back and forth in front of the prisoners, scrutinizing them closely.
Finally, he nodded in satisfaction and asked robustly, "Which one of you is Ribero Doug? Step forward!"
Hesitant, Doug knew he couldn't escape his fate.
"Present!" he shouted.
Following the routine of his daily training, Doug jogged out of the formation, standing firmly in front of the Alda soldier.
"Reporting! Prisoner number 2001, Ribero Doug, reporting for duty!"
The soldier looked Doug up and down, making him feel like a horse in a livestock market being appraised by a buyer.
"Come with me! The rest of you, maintain your position standing for one hour!"
The "buyer" seemed to have chosen his horse, leading him away.
The others, confused, didn't dare to even glance at each other, wondering if someone had made a mistake, resulting in collective punishment.
Tensely, Doug followed until they entered the management office of the labor camp.
"Ferguson?"
Doug was surprised to see Beluso Ferguson, the leader of another mercenary group, also present.
Ferguson, upon seeing Doug, revealed surprise, followed by a hint of panic, which he quickly concealed. But Doug caught that fleeting moment of disarray.
"Hmph!" Ferguson's already large nostrils flared even more as he snorted heavily.
He seemed suddenly filled with fighting spirit.
"Lord Erwin! Our 'Rhino' men are enough; we don't need those weaklings from 'Black Hound'!"
Rhino! Black Hound!
Nostalgic terms indeed, thought Doug, feeling a tremor in his heart. These were the names of Ferguson's and his own mercenary groups, respectively.
Since being sent to the labor camp, these terms had been buried deep in their memories.
Now resurfacing, they also awakened Doug's instincts as a mercenary group leader.
"Rhino scum! Who are you calling a weakling?" Doug retorted unabashedly.
Though verbally harsh, Doug's heart surged with joy.
From Ferguson's panicked reaction upon seeing him and his words to the man named Erwin, it seemed the Ordo people… had some use for them, and not just for menial tasks like coal shoveling. Otherwise, Ferguson wouldn't have been so eager—just now, he looked like someone about to lose a deal.
Could it be… a chance for escape?