Sir! Don't close the net!

Ashley looked at one

The arrogant doorman glanced at the people around him, clenched his fists, and then slumped his shoulders. "I understand, little Miss Annie. I'm sorry, I promised to show you around here properly."

“It’s alright, I’ve had enough of the unchanging prosperity of the millennium,” Anne said, turning her wheelchair around.

Ashley glared at the guard resentfully, snorted, and turned to hold onto the armrest of Annie's wheelchair.

The guard, with an arrogant expression, raised his hand as if to shoo away a homeless person.

Rebecca pursed her lips, moved closer to Li Yili, looked her up and down, and whispered, "Are they going to be finished?"

“Look at the way they’re doing this, how can they not be doomed?” Li Yili rolled her eyes. “People outside can’t even get food, and they’re planning to suck up a mouthful of blood, then kick everyone else out and live a life of singing and dancing on their own.”

“Wow—it’s gotten this bad,” Rebecca couldn’t help but stick out her tongue.

“This is the normal situation,” Li Yili said, raising her right hand and twirling her fingers. “People live in this world only for themselves, but these guys are just particularly honest and it shows.”

"No one likes a homeless person stepping on their head and looking down on them with contempt."

"Is that so? Didn't you want them to disappear?" Rebecca grabbed Li Yili's arm.

Li Yili rolled her eyes, neither admitting nor denying, but simply followed the displaced crowd at a leisurely pace, crossing the glittering golden gate.

Amidst the smug laughter of the gatekeepers, the gleaming golden gate closed.

Li Yili stared at the golden gate inlaid with gemstones for a long time before letting out a long yawn, her eyes somewhat unfocused. "Human...society?"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"What just happened? I never said you were allowed to desert your post."

Nemo blocked Carly's way at the door, his eyes icy cold.

Carly stared at Nemo for a while, then tilted her head. "You never told me that they've formed a self-defense force, and it's so big, with each person carrying a gun."

Nemo paused, his pupils contracted slightly, and his breathing became heavier. "They have guns?"

“Yes, at least the Self-Defense Force members surrounding us were all carrying guns,” Carly pushed past Nemo, went into the house, took off her scarf, threw it on the floor, sat on the scarf, and stared calmly at Nemo’s back. “What do you think is going on?”

Still reeling from the shock of the Self-Defense Forces in the Sanjiu Circle being armed, Nemo didn't notice Carly's rather disrespectful tone. Instead, he paced back and forth in front of the door, chin in hand, his movements becoming increasingly agitated. Finally, he couldn't help but turn and yell at Carly, "Where did they get their guns?"

“Even if you want me to yell, I don’t know how to answer you, because you are the master of this tool,” Carly said with an extremely calm expression. Nemo wanted to get angry but didn’t know how, so he could only continue pacing back and forth in agitation.

If it were just a simple self-defense force formed by the residents of the Triassic Circle, he wouldn't be worried at all. The only advantage the Triassic Circle's self-defense force had was its large numbers. The Triassic Circle's industrial level was just so-so; at most, they could carry a kitchen knife. He was confident he could make an example of them by killing one to warn a hundred.

But now the Self-Defense Forces have guns, and he's just a flesh-and-blood human being. If they really open fire, he'll be dead.

But that's not the most serious problem. The most serious problem is where they got the guns from!

"Gun, gun, gun... Could it be!"

Nemo paused, his eyes widening. He turned and, under the incomprehensible gazes of his servants, sprinted to the warehouse. He forcefully pulled open the warehouse door, and a cold, slightly bloody stench rushed out. Nemo took a deep breath, and with heavy steps, he reached the nearest box. He lifted it up with a thud, only to find it empty.

"Damn it!"

Nemo kicked the box to pieces, then turned and rushed towards the other boxes. One empty box after another was opened and kicked to pieces, and more and more sweat dripped from Nemo's forehead.

The residents of the Triassic Circle didn't have the guts or the ability to steal so much weaponry from his territory without anyone noticing, so there was only one possibility left.

The Cult of Steam and Steel!

Only the cult of steam and steel has the audacity and ability to do this.

Nemo took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. With a cold face, he kicked away the unopened boxes, turned and left the warehouse. With a cold face, he kicked open the back door and went to the storage room. He pulled open the storage room door forcefully. The various guns hanging in the storage room made Nemo breathe a sigh of relief, but after relaxing, Nemo raised his fist and slammed it heavily on the door frame.

"They're already at their wits' end, yet they still intend to bite back? How pathetic."

Chapter 146 Are you acting for justice or to show off your power?

"Mr. Puss is so grateful. If it weren't for you, who knows what terrible things would have happened today."

"It's alright, it ... what we should do."

Pus had lost count of how many people he'd shaken hands with. At first, he could still strike a pose and say, "I'm the righteous sheriff of the Triassic Circle," but eventually he couldn't even manage that line anymore. The other Self-Defense Force members were in the same boat; there were far more people in the Triassic Circle than they'd imagined.

"Um, Mr. Puss, this is how I can join your Self-Defense Force!"

Looking at the excited young man in front of him, Puss hesitated. Now was the perfect time...

The best time to expand the Self-Defense Forces was when Anne was still alive, and he would have been quite happy to welcome it. But now that Anne is gone, he has to be responsible for all those who believed in and helped him.

Puss recalled the looks in the eyes of the residents of the Triassic Circle when he knocked on their doors yesterday, as well as their replies. He also remembered the expressions on their faces and the words they said when they heard his request for a gun.

“Young man, joining our Self-Defense Force is not an easy thing,” Puss said, patting the gleaming young man on the shoulder. He had a bad memory, so he would try his best to remember important things.

"Huh? But, wasn't it before... all you had to do was sign the form?" The young man was taken aback, his eyes glancing at the guns slung over the backs of the Self-Defense Force members beside him.

“That’s just a nominal position; you don’t need to participate in any Self-Defense Force operations,” Puss patted the young man on the shoulder again and nodded into the distance. “Young man, go back to your life.”

"How can one become a full-fledged member of the Self-Defense Forces?"

Before leaving, the young man asked a question with some reluctance.

Puss just scratched his face and said, "It will be announced in a while."

After the young man left, Puss let out a long sigh of relief, scratched the back of his head, and said, "I feel like... I almost strayed from my original intention."

William, who had just finished "battling" with a businessman who wanted to curry favor and become a full member of the Self-Defense Forces, sighed upon hearing Puss's lament and patted Puss on the back, saying, "It's the same everywhere, it's not your problem."

“How could this be my problem?” Puss muttered, then raised his hand to press down his cowboy hat, recalling Carly’s expression when she left.

The other homeless people seemed to have all their bad intentions exposed, and they fled in a guilty manner. Some even covered their faces, not wanting to make eye contact with others. Carly, on the other hand, walked away with her head held high and her chest out.

Puss felt uneasy, but seeing the other members of the Self-Defense Forces cheering for a partial victory, he suppressed his unease and waved.

"Alright, alright, stop cheering and stop blocking the road. Clean up the trash here."

Under Puss's command, the Self-Defense Force members, with red ribbons tied to their arms, smiled brightly as they dismantled the platform built by the homeless and threw it into the trash can. Soon, the street returned to normal order.

In a corner of the neighborhood, Ryan and his gang, who used to swagger around like hapless dogs, were crammed into an alley. The underlings all had their heads down and dared not speak, while Ryan sat on a stone bench, covering his face and standing on tiptoe in frustration.

No one dared to ask Ryan such a foolish question at this moment: why did he choose to run away when the opportunity to rally the homeless group was right in front of him?

As they left, they saw with their own eyes that the self-defense forces members were carrying guns on their backs.

After a full twenty minutes of silence, Ryan suddenly stood up, kicked the trash can, and cursed under his breath, "Where did a bunch of low-level guys from the Third Ring get so many guns!"

No one answered.

Ryan glanced at the others, a surge of anger rising within him. Driven by impulse, Ryan grabbed the collar of the nearest henchman and raised his fist, intending to punch him.

Normally, he would never do something so impulsive. As the leader, he must learn to be clear about rewards and punishments. If someone makes a mistake, he can scold or beat them as much as he wants. But if no one makes a mistake, he absolutely cannot take action, especially in a situation where morale is low. If he throws a punch, things won't get better, and people's hearts will be scattered.

In the end, Ryan suppressed his impulse, loosened his grip on his underling's collar, and paced back and forth.

The biggest reason he acted impulsively was that he felt everything was over and there was no chance of a turnaround, so he no longer cared about his own power.

"Boss... what do we do now?" Seeing that Ryan had calmed down, one of the underlings cautiously asked, and the other underlings also looked at Ryan.

Ryan paused, and after a brief silence, raised his hand and waved. "Wait! We can only wait now!"

The alley was packed with people, yet it was incredibly quiet, like a graveyard.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

“Sich, Lorne, you two… hand over your guns to the Self-Defense Forces.”

Inside the store, Shirley put down the spotless plate she was holding and turned to look at Lorne and Sitch, who were swaying back and forth in front of the shop window.

Lorne and Sitch froze, and Sitch, who was carrying a gun, subconsciously moved the gun to his chest and twisted around, trying to pretend he hadn't heard Sherry speak.

"Don't pretend you can't hear me. Turn around and look me in the eyes."

Shirley raised her voice.

Lorne and Sitch froze, then turned around with awkward smiles. "We...we heard you."

"You don't want to surrender your weapons."

Sitch tried to dodge the question, but Lorne curled his lip and said, "Why should we hand over these guns? They're our spoils of war. Those people can call themselves the Self-Defense Force to protect the citizens of the Triassic Circle, so why can't we?"

“Ahem—anyway, there are no bullets in this gun, nothing will happen,” Sitch said, though not as direct as Lorne, he still made it clear that he didn’t want to hand over his gun.

"Do you want to protect the citizens, or do you want to show off in front of those who used to look down on you?"

Sherry's eyes were very clear, and Lorne and Sitch both avoided looking at her.

Shirley sighed deeply. "Can't we just live a peaceful life?"

“We just…want to do the right thing,” Lorne said softly, turning his face away.

If that Puss can do it, why can't we? They have guns, and we have guns too. They just have a bigger number of people. We only need to…”

"enough!"

Sherry raised her hand and slammed it heavily on the counter, glaring angrily at Lorne.

"This isn't a game! This concerns the peace of the Triassic Circle! You think you're so powerful now that you can look down on others?! Just because you think you're capable, you want to disrupt this hard-won peace? Or do you think you can shoulder the responsibility for the entire Triassic Circle with a gun that's out of bullets? Be more mature, will you?!"

Sitch lowered his head at Sherry's shout, but Lorne couldn't resist. He snatched the gun from Sitch's body and ran away.

Chapter 147 No Longer Beyond Redemption, Now Relying on Heroes

Sitch opened his mouth wide, looked at the door that Lorne had smashed open, and then looked at Sherry.

"This……"

Shirley pinched the bridge of her nose, looking utterly exhausted, shook her head at Sitch, and sat back down. "Whatever..."

After hesitating for a while, Sitch pulled up a chair and sat down next to Sherry. "I think your reaction is too exaggerated. Lorne, although he did want to show off, his intentions were good. After all... he would never want to disrupt peace."

Is that an exaggeration?

Sherry looked at Sitch.

Sitch nodded subconsciously, but sat up straight the moment she met Sherry's eyes and quickly shook her head.

“Now, the Triassic Circle has a self-defense force. This force has shown the residents of the Triassic Circle its trump card, given them gains, and brought them… the victory they wanted,” Shirley said, rubbing her forehead, her emotions incredibly complex. “Those homeless people, although I don’t know what Carly is thinking, barring any unforeseen circumstances, they definitely won’t dare to act recklessly like before. The Triassic Circle is at peace now, the Triassic Circle…”

Shirley paused, held up the plate in front of her, looked at her reflection in the plate, and had a very complicated expression.

"It's no longer hopeless and in need of heroes; the Triple Circle has established a just order."

Sitch opened his mouth, then drooped his head, leaning on the table and letting out a long sigh. "It seems... that's how it is. Hopefully, that guy can figure it out."

“He’ll figure it out, but Carly…”

Shirley paused, put down the plate, and shook her head vigorously.