After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World

Limestone Valley

During this time, the Limestone Valley guard—and administration—team set to prepare for the worst of the Extreme Heat. They put into action everything they could do, including the layouting of the digging areas of the goblins even before they arrived.

However, in order not to cause panic and chaos—their hold in this place wasn’t nearly as tight as the Alterran Elders had on theirs—Victor and the others temporarily withheld the information until everything was ready.

Now that they knew about what was coming, the heat had become even more noticeable. Benny sighed and wiped his sweat, looking at the Alterrans who was doing the same.

They were assigned to front gate duty now. A shed was built on top of the battlement using some creative carpentry work that allowed for an overhang of sorts. It was basically a cube construction added on top of the battlement to provide cover that’d be much wider than where it was supported in.

After all, their battlement wasn’t as wide as Alterra’s and only a few people could fit at a time, how could a support for a shed fit in?

”Well, you alright? You’ve looked a bit pale for a while,” he said, but paused when he saw Amos looking a little queasy. He assumed it must be homesickness. ”Well, Alterra must be so much better.”

Amos smiled weakly.

Jesse, Baron’s cousin who was left in Limestone Valley, looked at his friend and patted his shoulder. He roomed with the guy and he knew what was going on.

With the newspaper and letters sent to the ruling party, Amos received a letter as well. It was an official letter from Alterra, and it brought him some news about his family—and they were not good.

It stated that his family betrayed Alterra and were now serving as Prisoners of War until they received the required Atonement Points.

Atonement Points, it also explained, were like negative contribution points that prisoners of war needed to pay for via labor.

In his mother and brother’s case, they were currently digging tunnels for Alterra.

The Points could also be received by assisting in mobs (this was completely optional, as atonement points were equal to contribution points), though considering what kind of people they were, this was not an option for them.

They could do other manual labor jobs like lifting, cleaning, and the like. This was the safest for them, though in all cases they cursed and complained until a guard told them to shut up.

They were not system slaves so they didn’t automatically do so, but Alon did receive a few slaps on the face for ’rebelling’. They had to be threatened with death if they didn’t behave.

The letter also detailed the threats, because Alterra believed he deserved to know everything. They also told him that if they really got too much, they would really ban them and throw them out of the territory to fend for themselves.

Fortunately, his family were cowards and eventually succumbed to their new manual labor arrangements.

They should be glad about it too, because they were never whipped or tortured. They really just had to do hard, honest, labor.

Although Amos knew his family would suffer, he agreed that they had to go through with this. He was thankful they didn’t get killed—such betrayal was certainly worthy of it. Even he would’ve been implicated.

Jesse had been worried he’d be too sad, but was relieved to see him accepting of it. ”How long do you think they’ll serve?”

Amos thought about this seriously.

The atonement points required would depend on the sins of the person. 250,000 points were required for each confirmed murder, 30,000 to 100,000 for injuries, and 10,000 or so for minor infractions.

Betrayal though would depend on the damage done or what could’ve been done. Although Ramona and his family’s sins didn’t cause many dire consequences, it was only because the territory’s system was well-planned. If it were others, the consequences could’ve been much worse, and the punishments would depend on this.

The three of them had to pay 50,000 each, which was equivalent to earning 50,000 contribution points which would take several years to pay off considering how weak they were.

The letter stated that he could give a maximum one-third of his contribution points to assist with the bailing of his family.

However, they would understand—and preferred—if he didn’t do so. This was because—and this was said in verbatim—that his family members were arses.

The letter even recommended that he let them be and earn their freedom themselves. Anyway, if they worked hard enough and even helped clear out mobs—wherein more points could be earned to reduce their debts—they could be released within a few years.

It was guaranteed though that prisoners would at least have a roof on their heads and minimal food and water. If they fall ill, it’d be deducted as extra atonement points, but they wouldn’t be stripped of their right to some health care as well.

To be honest, the situation was better than most villages. The writer of the letter seemed to dislike this and wished for harsher conditions but what to do? Alterra was too humane.

As for murderers, 250,000 was big but if they were high-leveled enough, they could definitely reduce their sentence length by focusing on dealing with mobs. However, despite this, they would still need a few years to earn their freedom and even then freedom was not entirely guaranteed.

They would undergo some sort of hearing at that time, determining whether they would be set free in the end.

The Atonement Point was a little arbitrary and they weren’t obligated to free the prisoners even after they filled this. On the other hand, they could offer better treatments like better food and shelter for those who reached this amount but weren’t set free.

However, these were all years in the making and they’d cross that bridge when they get there.

The letter had a lot of tangents, but it inevitably made Amos a little less depressed.

At least… there was hope. If his family still didn’t straighten up after this, then it was time for him to give them up.