Chapter 119: Rebuilding the City |
Osena did not find herself at leisure even after the end of the disaster.
On the contrary, she became even busier.
During the evacuation of citizens from Revival City, time was pressing, and the entire event inevitably appeared particularly chaotic amidst the storm.
Fortunately, the issues were eventually resolved.
When the evacuation was halfway through, the storm subsided, and the sky cleared.
Although the Governor hadn’t issued new orders at that time, Osena could already see that the disaster, which had nearly destroyed Revival City, seemed to have passed.
Despite the houses blown down by the storm now submerged in the flooding caused by the torrential rain, everything appeared in utter disarray. There were also a significant number of people who had been struck and killed by lightning.
But overall, the number of casualties was still within an acceptable range.
At that time, she had already been instructing the troops assisting her to enforce more orderly control; once the Governor’s order officially confirmed the end of the disaster, she even directly halted the evacuation from the city.
The gathered citizens were not immediately sent back home. She took the stage with a loudspeaker and personally explained the entire process to the citizens: the terrifying cultists who sought to summon a storm to destroy the city, a plot foiled by the wise and heroic Governor himself.
Now that the city was out of danger, those who hadn’t received their food could proceed to the distribution points, while those who had already received supplies were to participate in the city’s disaster relief efforts as instructed by the troops.
As for the tens of thousands who had already evacuated to the outskirts of the city, Osena had no intention of moving them back into the city.
Following the Governor’s instructions, they would provide these people with education and instructions, guiding them to migrate to Weixing City.
This had already been part of the predetermined population strategy.
In truth, Revival City didn’t need to sustain such a large population.
In the past, Revival City had struggled to support so many people purely based on its industrial structure, not to mention the exploitation the inner-city residents imposed on the poor and vagrants from the outer city. The city’s light industry base was adequate, but it couldn’t provide enough jobs for a million people. The service industry primarily catered to the inner city, where even ordinary inner-city residents struggled financially, and only the wealthy had ample resources, though they didn’t need as many people serving them.
To put it bluntly, the city’s productivity wasn’t sufficient to support such a population; exploitation was not the main reason.
Revival City couldn’t support everyone, but Weixing City could!
It urgently needed people to expand production, hampered only by the limited population.
In his original plan, Gu Hang had intended to move a large number of people from Revival City to Weixing City, forming a heavy industry base.
Now was the perfect time.
These people who had left the city had lost their belongings to the flood, they were already on the road, and their food supplies were ready. The large convoy of citizens might travel slowly, but they could reach Weixing City in about two days on foot.
Of course, they wouldn’t actually set out on the road unescorted.
The wasteland was far from safe.
Captain Pobov had been ordered to lead his troops, along with the 3rd Battalion, to escort the group.
By the time they arrived, Patel, the head of the Wasteland Society, would likely be grinning from ear to ear.
As for the rescue and relief efforts in the outer city area of Revival City, they were relatively crude and simple.
Originally, this outer city area was completely unplanned. When people arrived, they simply found a spot, built a shelter, and called it home. The materials for these shelters were a hodgepodge, ranging from anything one could find; these houses offered no protection against fire or disasters, and if they managed to block the wind and rain, that was already considered well-built.
Consideration for convenient transportation was virtually non-existent. In the most densely populated areas, leaving a narrow pathway to allow people to exit was already a luxury.
It was the inner-city residents who initially enforced some planning—mainly because they didn’t want these “mud-feet” blocking the roads in and out of the city. They planned several major roads and strictly prohibited encroachments, thereby ensuring the basic flow of goods.
This had already been included in Osena’s plans. She would gradually clear this outer city area, using major roads as a foundation, establishing a more reasonable road network, and dividing and zoning it based on industrial structures to create distinct administrative districts.
While the storm and the flooding it brought were disasters, from a different perspective, it could also be seen as a means of assisting in clearing away these structures.
Although this left them with a mess of debris to clean up.
So, they would clean it up.
The so-called emergency relief work was exactly this. They would search each ruin for survivors, then clear each area, piling debris in one place and constructing temporary, habitable large shelters in the cleared areas, even if it meant shared sleeping spaces.
The construction teams would follow along, building new housing in the cleared areas according to the plans.
Seeing so many people, simply fed and working in high spirits, wading through water with rolled-up sleeves, gave Osena a long-missing sense of satisfaction.
She loved these scenes of vibrant energy.
However, after smiling, she quickly turned back to her temporary office.
Since they were going to rebuild the city alongside disaster relief efforts, she needed to start working on the necessary planning immediately.
This left Osena somewhat caught off guard; she had originally thought she had more time to consider the details. How to demolish, how to rebuild, how to compensate and resettle those displaced… now, some issues were no longer concerns, but new ones had arisen.
She was filled with determination.
—
“What the heck is going on?!”
“They’re the ones who said to evacuate, and now they’re the ones saying to come back!”
“We’re hauling all this stuff, clearing debris—what’s even worth clearing? When the water’s gone, won’t this stuff still be usable?”
“Hey, Ritchie, you say something too?”
Listening to the complaints around him, Ritchie likely felt similarly.
However, when others turned to him, he merely waved his hand and said, “Less talk, more work.”
“Tsk…” The man got the hint and waved back, refraining from further comments.
In this area, Big Brother Ritchie still had some respect. After all, he had once led hundreds through the wilderness, barely surviving to reach Revival City. He had managed to carve out a small piece of turf for himself, providing food for his people. Known for his sense of justice and adherence to rules, he didn’t bully others and was even willing to stand up for others, earning considerable esteem from the neighborhood, even to the point where gangs tended to avoid the area.
But that was the extent of what he could do.
And now, his neighborhood was destroyed, with people scattered everywhere and few acquaintances around.
Not that it bothered Ritchie; he quietly picked up debris and stacked it onto a cart, repeating the process.
In his mind, what was the point of saying and doing so much?
When had those in power ever treated them like human beings?
In fact, this new Governor, who provided grain and food, was already a godsend. If he wanted to “mess around,” let him. As long as he kept them fed, he could mess around all he wanted.
Whoever provided the food was the real boss.
As for the storm that was supposedly going to destroy the city, and the Governor’s efforts to prevent it… Well, I didn’t see it with my own eyes. You say it happened, fine, whatever you say. It’s not like I could argue otherwise, could I?
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe it, either; after all, the storm was indeed unusual. He’d seen red lights fall from eight points around the city, accompanied by explosions, indicating some sort of intense battle.
Eventually, the storm indeed stopped.
Maybe the Governor really had resolved it?
But what did it matter to someone like him?
Could he influence anything?
Not a thing.
Even matters that could destroy a city and kill its inhabitants were beyond the power of people like him—just a humble commoner, even one with a bit of local prestige. No matter what they did, it was meaningless. Even if the storm, lightning, and floods threatened his life, he would have no choice but to accept it. What else could he do?
The best he could do was to fight for a bit of food.
If he had to die, he would at least have a meal first.
In his past life of wandering, he had nearly starved to death and had witnessed others die of starvation, which he considered the most terrifying death of all.
Now that he thought of it, a meal was all thanks to the Governor’s victory.
After all, the Governor really had provided them with food.
As for work? Well, if you’re fed, you’re expected to work; that was fair.
On this wasteland, where could you get a free meal?
The only downside was that there was someone in a black leather jacket and red hat constantly shouting orders through a loudspeaker, which was a bit annoying.
But he didn’t dare say a word.
They had guns, and troops. There were thousands of workers on this construction site and nearly a hundred soldiers guarding it. The soldiers were also busy working under the direction of the person in the red hat.
But if they’re working, why do they have to shout so much?
They said it was to clean up our own homes and that the area would be rebuilt with better housing, housing that would eventually be ours to live
in.
Nonsense. Since when did such a good thing happen on the wasteland? Ritchie had lived long enough to know better.
But as he grumbled, he couldn’t help but feel a hint of longing.
Would he really get to live in sturdy housing and walk in orderly streets?
Forget it, he thought. Best not to get his hopes up too much, or he’d be even more disappointed later.
As he continued his work, the physical fatigue gradually eliminated his idle thoughts.
But at that moment, the sound of gongs and drums echoed.
It was mealtime.
Ritchie lifted his head, realizing it was already dark and nearly time to clock out.
Following the crowd, he reached the dining area and received his portion.
It wasn’t particularly tasty, just a hard, bread-like lump.
But Ritchie was pleased. He never cared about flavor; he only knew this tough bread filled his stomach.
Not to mention, it came with a bowl of hearty broth. Soaking the bread in it made it taste like a delicacy.
After a day of exhaustion, this meal made his mouth water, and his stomach growled in anticipation.
With his meal in hand, he was about to leave and enjoy it nearby when someone called him back.
“Hey, you forgot this.”
“Hmm?” He turned to see a pair of gloves.
“A recent supply delivery,” the young woman handing out food and gloves explained. “Be careful tomorrow—don’t cut your hands.”
Ritchie hesitated, accepting the gloves, and couldn’t help but glance around to see that everyone was receiving a pair.
He reconsidered his earlier thoughts.
The food and gloves seemed to tell him that this time, the new officials were treating them as people.
If they only cared about the work, they would just feed them; there would be no need to hand out gloves to protect their hands.
Collecting his thoughts, he nodded slightly, carrying his food and gloves away.
After a full meal, he lay on the communal bed, ready to sleep.
The noise around him was from the construction team working through the night to build housing. They used the scraps collected earlier to set up temporary shelters.
In fact, some shelters had already been built today. According to the one in the red hat, these shelters would be temporary accommodations; everyone would move in first, and as more houses were built later, they would be assigned based on each person’s contributions.
Ritchie still didn’t believe the latter part, but he had no doubts about the temporary accommodation. Although he hadn’t moved in himself, as the available dormitory space was limited, priority was given to the elderly, women, and children.
He was now sleeping in an open area, with a raised platform of makeshift materials and a bit of a roof to keep out the wind and rain.
But by tomorrow, with more shelters constructed, he would likely have a place indoors.
Though the conditions were harsh, it was nothing they couldn’t endure.
He lay down, ready to sleep, knowing there was still much work to do the next day.
Just then, he heard a loudspeaker outside.
“Ritchie! Ritchie! Who knows Ritchie?”
He sat up, his face tense.
He didn’t know what was happening, but with his wasteland instincts, he always assumed the worst.
He was already planning how to conceal his identity and slip away quietly.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Being well-known wasn’t always a blessing; he was quickly identified. Several people outside confirmed, saying, “Ritchie’s here.”
He had no choice but to go out, giving a fierce glare to those who had exposed him.
One young man, embarrassed by the glare, muttered, “Big Brother Ritchie, they don’t seem to have any ill intentions; otherwise, I wouldn’t have told them. I wasn’t selling you out!”
“Yeah, right!”
After grumbling, he resigned himself to following the person with the red hat and loudspeaker.
He climbed into a vehicle—his first time ever—and was taken to a place similar to their temporary residence.
The area was brightly lit, even at night, with people bustling around busily.
After waiting for a while, someone led him inside to a young woman in a blue shirt.
She hadn’t noticed him yet, engrossed in her work; her shoulders appeared frail, almost ready to collapse from exhaustion; her face showed signs of long hours of fatigue.
But Ritchie recognized her.
In disbelief, he stammered, “O… Osena?”
Hearing his voice, the young woman lifted her head, her tired face breaking into a delighted smile:
“Uncle Ritchie? Finally, I found you! Are you alright?”