Abnormal Type Moon

Chapter 2: Refugee Shelter

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"Everyone, come and get some paper and pens!"

"Don't miss anyone! Otherwise, I won't guarantee your safety!"

"For the sake of your own lives, just do as you're told!"

The already cramped hall was now packed with people.

Uniformed staff members hurried around, distributing paper and pens while shouting instructions. It was a chaotic, bustling scene.

The hall was filled with figures sitting on the floor—there were no chairs. Men and women of varying ages, dressed in all sorts of clothing, were gathered. Some wore light summer attire, while others were dressed for winter. If one counted carefully, there were likely dozens of them.

It was late January, the heart of winter.

The people wearing summer clothes were shivering from the cold but didn't dare to complain. They quietly took the paper and pens handed to them by the staff and began filling out their identity information.

Around the hall, several heavily armed soldiers stood stationed at the corners. They carried automatic rifles and exuded the aura of hardened veterans, their expressions grim and intimidating. Their presence made it clear they were not to be trifled with. They looked ready to kill, and their imposing demeanor prevented anyone from meeting their gaze.

In fact, someone had attempted to cause trouble earlier and had been shot dead on the spot by one of the soldiers. The body had just been dragged away, leaving a dark, bloodstained pool on the floor as a grim reminder.

Realizing these people were serious and would not hesitate to kill, those sitting on the ground quickly abandoned any thoughts of resistance.

They began to understand that their lives held little value in the eyes of these people. Here, human life was not worth much.

The only way to survive was to comply and remain obedient.

"Damn it, what kind of world have we been thrown into…"

Some people in the crowd muttered under their breath, venting their anger and fear.

Most of them shared the same sentiments, quietly cursing their cruel fate or some unknown deity responsible for their predicament. A few remained silent, though their faces betrayed their panic and confusion about the uncertain future ahead.

"Kalo-sama, we've finished collecting the identity information."

After running around for some time, a staff member handed a thick stack of forms to the person in charge of the hall, a middle-aged man named Chang.

Kalo took the documents, skimmed through them briefly, and stepped forward to address the crowd.

"Let me welcome you, fellow refugees. No matter where you came from, no matter how wealthy or powerful you once were, that's all in the past. Now, you are all refugees. Without the protection of Fuyuki City, you would be at the mercy of the monsters, evil spirits, and cursed beings that wander the wild!"

"I'm sure many of you witnessed such horrors on your way here."

At this, the faces of some in the crowd grew noticeably pale.

When they first gathered in the wild, they had been more than a hundred strong.

But during their journey to Fuyuki City, they encountered something that shattered their sense of reality.

They were attacked by massive beasts unlike anything they'd ever seen. These creatures seemed born for slaughter, impervious to firearms and other weapons. Over a dozen refugees were devoured on the spot.

The survivors endured prolonged terror, paralyzed by fear, until the guards' gunfire finally drove the creatures away. All that remained were shattered bodies, scattered debris, and hearts weighed down with dread.

Many of them had faced such gruesome and bloody scenes, and the mere memory made them feel nauseous.

Such an attack completely shattered the worldview they had built over decades.

Seeing how quiet and obedient everyone had become, Kalo nodded in satisfaction.

"But don't worry. At least here in Fuyuki City, you are safe and can live your lives as usual. However, never forget your identity as refugees. We are the ones who provide you with a place to stay and protect you. Without us, your lives wouldn't even be guaranteed. You've already been given more than enough. Don't be ungrateful, and don't do anything impulsive, reckless, or irrational. If you do, you'll only have yourself to blame for the consequences."

After delivering his stern lecture, which mixed reassurance with veiled threats, no one dared to respond.

Even if some people felt anger or resentment, they kept silent, unwilling to risk provoking the armed soldiers who surrounded them.

With the usual speech out of the way, Kalo curled his lips slightly in disdain and lowered his head to examine the stack of documents in his hands.

The forms didn't just contain basic details like names and gender; they also included columns for the refugees' skills and previous occupations.

Fuyuki City's focus clearly lay on these sections, and Kalo was paying particular attention to the refugees' former professions.

Students, convenience store clerks, novelists… The more he read, the deeper his frown grew.

One individual even wrote that they were skilled at playing video games, especially galgames. The moment Kalo saw that, his eyebrows twitched in annoyance.

The world had become what it was today, and what they desperately needed were highly skilled professionals or essential workers like doctors. Knowing how to play video games was utterly useless—especially galgames.

What kind of absurdity was this?

After reading through the thick stack of documents, Kalo still hadn't found a single person whose skills were truly useful.

With a click of his tongue, he rubbed his temples in frustration and sneered.

"Forget it. I shouldn't have had any expectations from you refugees. Let me make this clear: you have two choices. One, you can become miners or farmers. You'll receive three meals a day but no salary. After working for a certain number of years, you may be eligible to change your status from refugee to civilian. The second option is to become a servant—"

"Oh, yes, yes."

A voice suddenly interrupted him from outside the hall.

A figure strode in, his presence commanding immediate attention. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with dark skin, blond hair, and Middle Eastern features. His medium build and confident, unhurried movements gave him an air of authority, one that left no room for questioning.

The man's sharp gaze swept over the hall, scanning the crowd. His expression was calm, almost indifferent, and his eyes seemed to measure the refugees not as people but as objects whose value was yet to be determined.

Kalo's eyes quickly fell on the man's chest, where a nameplate was pinned to his black vest. The engraved word "Kai wei" gleamed under the dim light.

The moment Kalo noticed the nameplate, his expression turned serious. He straightened his posture and saluted the man with the respect of a soldier meeting a superior officer.

"Sir, as per your entitlement, you're allowed to select two servants this month. This batch of refugees has already been registered. Please, feel free to choose anyone you like!"

"Good."

The man responded curtly, his eyes continuing to scan the refugees. He took his time, his gaze lingering here and there before settling on two specific individuals.

"I didn't expect to find anything worthwhile among this group of refugees," he said casually, his tone calm yet authoritative. "That woman and that man over there—I'll take those two."

He laughed happily, snapped his fingers, and pointed twice in the air.

Kalo followed the direction of his gestures.

The man he pointed at had a sturdy build and a gloomy expression, radiating an air that suggested he wasn't someone to be trifled with.

The other person, a young woman, appeared to be around sixteen or seventeen years old. She was dressed in a high school uniform, her long jet-black hair cascading down her back, with a white headband tied neatly on her forehead. She sat quietly, clutching the hem of her skirt.

Her face was smeared with dust, and her downcast eyes gave the impression that she was deliberately trying to avoid attention. It was hard to tell how beautiful she might be beneath the dirt, but her curvaceous figure drew plenty of notice. The pantyhose on her legs were torn in several places, exposing patches of smooth, snow-white skin on her thighs, which drew more than a few lingering stares from the men around her.

"I understand. I'll handle the formalities for you right away!"

Kalo nodded slightly and began flipping through the documents in his hand.

"Excuse me, could I have that girl instead?"

Just then, another figure stepped into the hall, inserting himself into the conversation with a polite smile.