Chapter Eighty-One

Orlina spoke with a grave expression, “Qin Le, I’ve made up my mind. If the refugees outside storm the base and the situation becomes irreversible, I will kill them.”

She waited here for three hours just to say this?

Qin Le found this somewhat amusing, and with interest, replied, “Can you really bring yourself to do it? They only want to survive. If they break in to seize food, it might be for their families, for their children. By killing them, you might indirectly cause the deaths of others.”

Qin Le imitated the double standards often seen online, deliberately posing some particularly ‘wise’ questions.

He was genuinely curious how Orlina would answer—or more precisely, what she would actually do. This girl was no mere keyboard warrior. She wielded real power and had remarkable resolve. Once she said she’d do something, she would—reckless, yes, but also formidable.

Qin Le presented her with another difficult dilemma.

Orlina took a deep breath. This time, she wasn’t stumped. Her expression was stern as she responded, “When they are in trouble, I’ll do everything I can to help them. But when they bare their fangs and try to drag others down with them, I’ll do everything in my power to stop them.”

“They have suffered and deserve help—but that does not mean they are entitled to bring suffering to the innocent.”

“You waited three hours just to tell me this?” Qin Le smiled faintly.

Inwardly, he couldn’t help but marvel. Orlina’s kindness and her principles were almost miraculous. In a world ruled by the strong, where the weak are prey, and especially for someone raised in the slums, her sense of justice surpassed the vast majority of the Republic’s citizens.

This was Orlina’s most precious quality—and also the trait that made her most vexing to others. Her defiant sense of right and wrong cast those who believed in the law of the jungle in an ugly light, like a mirror reflecting their own ugliness.

“There’s one more thing,” Orlina said, stepping back and bowing deeply to Qin Le.

“I’d like to use the money you gave me to buy food from you, and then distribute it to the refugees outside, so they can use it to make their way home.”

Though the journey back would be fraught with peril, and even upon reaching their ruined homes survival was uncertain, it was still a glimmer of hope—the only thing she could do for them.

“I know this is a very selfish request, but please help me. This is all I can do for them,” Orlina’s voice trembled, clearly afraid that Qin Le would refuse.

“Hmph!”

A voice cut through the air. The beautiful elven maiden, Aimoia, appeared at the doorway, leaning against the wall with an annoyed look.

“They’re nothing to you. They’re not worth it. And how can you be sure they’ll even rebuild their homes? Maybe they’ll just die somewhere else. And do you even have enough money to buy food for so many people?”

The disaster of the Green Plague had destroyed countless homes and devastated the land. Even if the refugees could return, they would face rebuilding houses, fields, and fending off beasts and monsters.

“I just want to give them hope of survival,” Orlina replied, still bowing her head.

“You’re a complete fool,” Aimoia muttered, clearly exasperated, but then reluctantly fished a pouch from her cloak. “Here—three hundred twenty-five red gold coins. That should be enough to buy food for those fools. And don’t get any ideas—this isn’t for you, and it’s not a gift. You’ll pay me back double.”

Orlina shook her head. “This is my personal, willful request. I can’t let you pay.”

Money was precious to Aimoia. Orlina couldn’t let her share the loss just because of her own whims.

Those who suffer have no right to drag the innocent down with them. Likewise, she had no right to make Aimoia bear the burden of her own willfulness.

“Orlina, lift your head,” Qin Le said softly.

Orlina instinctively obeyed, slowly raising her head. Her beautiful azure eyes met Qin Le’s gaze.

Qin Le smiled gently and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t grant your request.”

Orlina’s blue eyes instantly dulled, her heart sinking.

But then Qin Le continued, “I don’t plan to send them back. They are excellent labor, after all.”

“Huh?” Orlina was stunned. Tears welled up in her eyes, chasing away the dullness.

“But don’t misunderstand—this isn’t my doing. It’s the Republic’s decision. You’ll have to pay me back double for this as well,” Qin Le mimicked the proud elf beside him.

“Yes!” Orlina nodded vigorously, a radiant smile lighting up her face, dazzling in its beauty.

Her heart was filled with gratitude and a tangle of emotions.

In the end, she still had to rely on Qin Le. She had said it was her own responsibility, yet she was always troubling him.

Qin Le sighed deeply inside. People like Orlina were both exasperating and admirable.

Though this wasn’t the first time he’d met someone like her, he still couldn’t understand their way of thinking, nor could he selflessly give as they did.

Aimoia quietly put away her coin pouch, her face dark with frustration as she watched the two before her, suddenly feeling completely unnecessary.

“Damn you, Qin Le. I’ll make sure Orlina sees your true colors one day!”

…

Outside the base, a dark mass of people surrounded its perimeter.

They wore tattered clothes, emaciated as skeletons, looking like zombies from a film.

Despite what they had endured, these refugees still refused to leave. They had nowhere else to go. Staying here meant a chance at a scrap of food; leaving would mean certain death.

Their eyelids drooped; their gazes were vacant. An overwhelming drowsiness weighed on them, yet none dared close their eyes, afraid they might never open them again.

They could sleep, but not at night—only at midday or in the afternoon, when the sun was out. It was already evening now; to sleep would be to risk freezing to death.

Those who had been dragged out and burned by the black-haired humans were the ‘lucky’ ones.

At that moment, a disheveled woman—hair hanging loose, wrapped in filthy rags—limped out from among the refugees, making her way toward the base gate.

The soldiers atop the wall tensed instantly, raising their weapons and aiming at the woman, ready to shoot at the slightest provocation.

In a world of supernatural powers, anything could be a deadly threat.

“Stop.”

A soldier’s voice boomed from the loudspeaker, but the woman continued her limping approach to the gate.

Bang!

A bullet struck the ground in front of her, sending up a spray of gravel. Still, she did not stop.

Then, a baby’s cry sounded—weak and faint, but enough to reach the soldiers’ ears above.

They focused their attention on the bundle in the woman’s arms. As she drew nearer, they saw a terribly thin, frail infant.

The soldiers hesitated, glancing at each other in confusion, at a loss for what to do.

The woman reached the gate unhindered, her skeletal frame sinking to her knees as she gently knocked on the iron door with her withered right hand.

“Please… save my… child. Do what you want with me, but I beg you, sirs, give my child a chance to live.”