CHAPTER 18
"Is that what you really feel? Eh, boy?"
The entire shelter seemed to hold its breath as all eyes snapped toward the new entrance.
The attire the man wore commanded attention instantly as everyone's gaze drifted and lingered on him for several seconds.
He was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a brown long sleeve shirt.
An earthy brown coat, its length reaching the back of his heels, was donned over the long sleeve, giving him an imposing presence.
This was the attire of an Iron Corps member, but there was something more to it that made the difference unmistakable.
At the back of his coat, two spears were drawn and crossed over a shield emblem of some kind.
On his shoulder, two stars were firmly embedded as he leaned slightly forward, staring at the humans gathered inside the shelter.
His hands were clasped behind his back, calm and composed, while a sleek wristwatch was fitted snugly around his wrist.
"It's… it's a General of the Iron Corps."
'A General?' Ray tilted his head slightly as he stared at the man.
Van's eyes widened the moment he heard the title.
'A… a General? What is one doing here?'
That was right.
The overseers of Wall Steel were composed of a General and two Captains from the Iron Corps.
And one of them was currently standing inside the shelter, for one reason or another that nobody present knew.
'Oh boy. Ray is fucked.'
But Ray only blinked, confused.
'What's a General again?'
"Huh? What? You saw me, yet you can't repeat what you were saying? Do I look that frightening or something?" the General uttered as he touched his face lightly, letting out a mild chuckle.
Ray finally snapped out of his daze and tilted his head slightly, noticing members of the Iron Corps filtering into the shelter like soldiers preparing for war.
Guns were slung securely over their shoulders.
'Oh wait. A General? You mean the rank directly below the Commander?' Ray's eyes finally lit up in realization as he rummaged through his memories for the military hierarchy.
Honestly, he would not have cared much about Iron Corps rankings.
The only reason he could recall it now was because the Vanguard Order followed the same ranking system, which made it easier to remember.
The hierarchy went as follows.
'Vanguards or militants for new members of either group.'
'Then Sergeant, followed by Captain, then General, and finally the Commander who controlled both forces and stood at the absolute top.'
Generals were usually Grade Eight meta-humans.
The peak of all measurable meta grades and just below the Four Legacy Families—the rulers of Alcatraz whose power rankings could not be measured.
Families that existed beyond the Grade Eight ceiling.
Ray swallowed hard after coming to that realization.
But for some reason, the man before him did not seem hostile.
A small smile grazed his lips as he stared calmly at the teenager.
Taking a deep breath, Ray finally steeled himself.
'There's no use being afraid of the world's powers. If I aim to surpass them, I need to be brave.'
"I was saying that I wish to join the Vanguard Order," Ray spoke firmly. "And I will do whatever it takes to join, because I want to vanquish all Abberants from this world."
"Humph." The man let out a low sound as he removed one hand from behind his back and began rubbing his temples slowly.
"…And here I thought I misheard," he said, releasing a soft chuckle before turning toward the men surrounding him.
"Can you believe this kid?"
The men all chuckled along with the General before he lifted his hand, silencing them immediately.
"I like your guts, kid. But words alone won't cut it. Do you have an ability?"
Ray glanced down, suddenly remembering that his ability book had been burnt to ash right in front of him.
He shook his head.
Then he remembered the system and was about to speak, but quickly restrained himself.
'No. That's unwise. Until I figure out how to grow stronger using this system, no one should know. And no, I'm not going to hide forever—just until I've got everything figured out.'
The General stared at Ray deeply, letting out a soft sigh before scanning the room, resting his gaze on some of the refugees from Wall Rose.
"I have come bearing news about your fates," he announced, causing everyone in the room to hold their breath in anticipation.
But the man paid them no mind as he continued.
"…As you all already know, supplies aren't enough to go around. And honestly, the original occupants of Wall Steel aren't happy about freeloaders, so we have devised a way for you all to give back to the society that sheltered you.
Of course, this includes the youngsters."
As he finished the last sentence, his gaze lingered on Ray and Van at the front before moving to the others in the room.
Everybody collectively gulped, hearts hammering as they wondered what the decision could be.
"For the adults, you will be sent to the farm to till the soil, while some will be assigned to other jobs depending on their age. And for the kids, an order has been passed down."
Ray and Van clenched their hands tightly, bracing themselves for what was coming next.
"From the age of fifteen to seventeen, you will all be sent to the Aspirant Corps."
"Aspirant Corps?" Ray lifted an eyebrow, searching his memories for any recollection of such a group.
The General, as if hearing his question, turned to face the young boy and smiled.
"For those who don't know, the Aspirant Corps is where young recruits train for a full year.
After a year of intense training, the instructors and rightful authorities will assess your worthiness, and only then will you be allowed to choose the group you would like to join for yourself." The man paused, watching Ray absorb every word.
"Either you will choose to join the Iron Corps or the… Vanguard Order."
Hearing this, Ray's eyes lit up with excitement. This was a huge opportunity.
Now that he thought about it, it all made sense.
It wasn't possible to simply run off and meet the Vanguard Order directly, so the Aspirant Corps was a necessary step.
—But… Aspirant Corps? The training is grueling.
—Yes! Isn't there anything the government can do? Maybe send us to work or something?
The General's sharp glare immediately silenced the murmurs of the refugees.
"This isn't a request, it's an order. All teens in this place, gather your belongings. We leave tomorrow! And that's final."
The man delivered the words with the authority of a judge in a courtroom before spinning around and calmly walking out, leaving everyone stupefied and confused.