Chapter 30: Eisenburg (10)

“Anyone else with special circumstances?”

Seraphina’s calm gaze swept the crowd.

No one dared respond.

The soldiers carried the unconscious man away with his emergency ration.

Soon, the onlookers were dispersed by other soldiers, scurrying back to their tin shacks, afraid to linger.

Silence returned, leaving only the two of them standing.

Seraphina’s expression was unmoved, as if accustomed to such scenes.

“Will he… die?” Mili asked softly, uneasy.

“No, just a lesson.”

“Come.” She took Mili’s hand, heading deeper into the slums.

“Didn’t you want to see? See it all, then.”

Mili followed, her emotions tangled, the scene replaying in her mind.

Seraphina dispensed mercy and punishment in tandem—retribution and relief coexisting, as natural as her unpredictable moods…

Was this her way of ruling?

“You don’t approve?” Sensing Mili’s silence, Seraphina stopped.

“I…”

“Stealing demands punishment.”

“But… he was trying to save his wife…” Mili whispered.

“Who doesn’t have someone to save?” Seraphina’s tone grew colder:

“Without rules, there’s no order.”

“If I let him go today, tomorrow there’ll be a second, a third, stealing rations with the same excuse.”

“If everyone could break order for any reason, then—”

“The system would collapse.”

“More would starve.”

Mili lowered her head, nodding faintly.

“Breaking rules has consequences. That’s the line.” Seraphina led her onward.

“Punishment isn’t for cruelty—it’s to deter, to protect the majority.”

They continued down the dilapidated streets.

The deeper they went, the more crowded it became.

The air grew thick with mold, rust, and the acrid stench of burning cheap fuel…

But gradually, Mili noticed…

Even in this poorest area, there were makeshift clinics and schools.

—A classroom cobbled from shipping containers.

Through jagged, cut-out windows, she saw worn desks and a blackboard…

“A school?” Mili blinked. “Is it… mandatory education?”

“No, basic education,” Seraphina explained, following her gaze. “Literacy, arithmetic, basic skills training.”

“Kids who pass tests can move to the outer district for further study.”

Mili bit her lip: “And their families…?”

“Parents’ origins don’t dictate a child’s future.” Seraphina cut her off. “Eisenburg’s classes aren’t fixed.”

“Study or enlist—both offer a path upward.”

“Even central district residents, if their kids slack off or break laws, becoming wasteful parasites, get kicked out.”

Mili’s eyes widened, surprised.

She’d assumed a rigid, hereditary society, but…

“People from outside can reach… the inner districts?”

“Of course,” Seraphina said calmly.

“Even working in the central tower’s normal.”

“The capable rise, the useless fall.”

Mili thought of something:

“Are there… selection standards?”

“Like… a percentage? Top few percent each year?”

Seraphina glanced at her, a playful glint in her heterochromatic eyes.

“Percentage?” She chuckled. “You think a lot.”

“Not a quota—it’s merit-based.”

“Meet the standard, you advance. Skipping grades isn’t impossible.”

Mili pressed: “And if they don’t…?”

“Even first place is useless if you miss the mark.” Seraphina shrugged bluntly:

“Quotas were for the old world—overpopulated, labor surplus, artificial barriers.”

Her tone teased, eyeing Mili: “You know quite a bit… so familiar with pre-catastrophe systems?”

“…”

Of course Mili knew…

But here, she was nothing.

A wasteland girl without basic survival skills.

Worse, that question might’ve exposed her knowledge of the “old world”…

Seraphina, meanwhile, mastered both eras’ systems, wielding them deftly.

—In her presence, Mili felt like a primitive before a modern mind.

Caught again…

“Why so quiet?” Seraphina noticed, narrowing her eyes.

“That was an interesting question. Got more?”

Mili, guilty, lowered her head:

“N-nothing…”

“Just thought… it seems… practical?”

At least they valued labor here…

Unlike places ruled by birth or connections…

Seraphina stared for a few seconds but didn’t press.

Nearby, children kicked a crude ball sewn from rags, their laughter bright in the grim surroundings.

“The world’s never black-and-white, Mili.” Seraphina stopped, facing her:

“You think I’d trap them in the mud forever?”

“What’s the benefit?”

“A laborer hauling goods versus a technician trained in mechanics—who’s more valuable to Eisenburg?”

“…”

Mili opened her mouth but had no answer.

The answer was obvious.

“I need useful people, not obedient slaves.”

“Giving them a path up ensures they serve Eisenburg better.”

“Useless ones, no matter their lineage, are worthless.”

Nearby, a slightly larger brick building bore a red cross sign—a clinic, likely.

“Let’s go in,” Seraphina said, pushing the door open.

The clinic’s conditions mirrored the streets—barely maintained, but clean enough.

A few patched-together beds;

Basic medical equipment;

Hand-drawn anatomy charts on the walls…

That was the clinic’s entirety.

A doctor in a white coat was resetting a child’s dislocated arm.

Nearby, sallow-faced kids, malnourished, queued for supplements.

Beds held elderly and injured patients—some feverish, others wounded…

Seeing Seraphina, everyone froze, bowing respectfully.

“Keep working,” she waved, signaling the doctor to continue.

“How do they… pay for treatment?” Mili whispered.

“Basic care’s free. Complex surgeries cost work points,” Seraphina replied softly.

“Work injuries are fully covered.”

Then, like a magic trick, she produced a small metal box and handed it to Mili.

The box was plain, likely repurposed from a can, its surface polished smooth.

“What’s this?” Mili took it hesitantly.

“Open it.”

Mili shook it gently, hearing a faint rattle.

She pried open the lid.

Inside was a box full of colorful candies, their sweet scent wafting out…

The glossy sugar coatings gleamed under the clinic’s dim lights, like a spilled palette, stark against the bleak surroundings.

Seraphina nodded toward the sick kids, nudging Mili’s back:

“Go on.”

“They’ll love it.”