He went to the capital by carriage and returned by carriage.
After seeing the royal capital, coming back to Stohess District felt somewhat shabby. Even though it was far better than Wall Maria, it still could not compare to the capital.
Unlike when he left, Lillian returned alone. Commander Nile remained in the capital since that was where he usually worked.
The carriage stopped in front of Military Police headquarters. As soon as Lillian got down, he heard voices.
"Oh look, the king's favorite is back."
"Hahaha!"
"That suit is not bad. I should get one too."
"With your face? Forget it."
He looked over and saw several veteran MPs standing guard, clearly seasoned soldiers who had been there for years. Naturally, they did not take Lillian seriously, so he ignored them and went straight inside to his dormitory.
The room was empty. Everyone was probably out on duty. However, a note lay on his desk.
{Lillian, our uniforms have arrived. I put yours on your bed. Change into it when you return. Also, the vice commander wants to see you in his office. We are out patrolling the streets and will not be back until the afternoon. Marlo.}
Lillian crumpled the note and threw it away, then glanced at his bed, where a new uniform lay.
He quickly changed.
All military uniforms were similar, differing only in their emblems.
Training Corps had crossed swords, Garrison had a rose, Survey Corps had the white and blue Wings of Freedom, and the Military Police had the unicorn emblem of law enforcement.
After changing, Lillian stood before the mirror.
"Why do I look like a lackey…"
He shook his head, folded his suit neatly, placed it in the wardrobe, and went to the vice commander's office.
Inside, the room was filled with smoke, and several officers were gambling and drinking around a table covered in cards and bottles.
"Lillian, come in," the vice commander called.
One officer laughed. "Not bad looking. No wonder the king gave you the Medal of Valor."
"Stop that nonsense!" the vice commander snapped, then turned to Lillian. "The commander told me you are capable. Since you have the king's favor, we decided you will lead the newest group of recruits."
Lillian's eyelid twitched.
"Do your job well and you will be promoted in the future," the vice commander said, looking around. "Where is the appointment letter?"
Someone picked it up from the floor. "This one?"
"Why is it on the ground!" he barked, snatching it and handing it to Lillian. "Here. Your squad is currently patrolling Second Street."
"Understood. Thank you for your trust. I will fulfill my duties."
"Enough. You may leave."
Lillian bowed slightly and stepped out, shutting the door behind him.
He glanced at the muddy appointment letter and sneered.
He knew this was a deliberate show of contempt, a warning to know his place. But he did not care.
For him, being a squad leader already meant significant authority. He would command around a dozen new MPs in the eastern district, which was enough for now.
As he walked toward Second Street, many people recognized him from the newspapers. Some pointed, some whispered, and a few even praised him as "a brave young man."
There was nothing surprising about this. His meeting with the king had already spread everywhere through the press, even without photographs.
After all, Lillian's appearance was very distinctive. Black hair, black eyes, and soft, gentle features — this kind of Eastern look was extremely rare inside the walls. Coupled with the Military Police uniform he wore, it would have been strange if people didn't recognize him.
Surrounded and blocked at every turn, Lillian had no choice but to push through the crowd by repeatedly saying, "I'm on official duty."
As he broke free, he thought to himself: Well, this is good in a way. So many people remember me now. As long as I don't get killed twice by the same person, I'll have plenty of chances to come back.
He crossed the main road and walked for quite a while before finally reaching Second Street.
Compared to the bustling main road, this street was clearly far more dilapidated and bleak. The buildings on both sides were old and broken-down, and many of the passersby were dressed in tattered clothes with harsh, hostile expressions on their faces.
Looking ahead, Lillian saw the recruits from his own cohort who were currently on patrol. Every one of them looked tense, as if afraid that the civilians around them might suddenly lash out and attack.
Their anxiety was not unfounded — this place was already very close to the "Underground."
Or more precisely, the underground passages. The true Underground City, where people actually lived, was beneath the royal capital inside Wall Sina, not here. Beneath Stohess District there were only crisscrossing underground tunnels.
Still, those tunnels were likely full of crime and darkness. Even Military Police officers would not go down there unless they personally saw a criminal flee inside. Otherwise, if they died down there, no one would even know — and no one would bother to investigate.
It was the same as with "Kenny the Ripper" years ago. He had killed over a hundred MPs, yet suffered no consequences and even became the leader of an elite squad.
This alone showed that the government did not truly care about the lives of ordinary Military Police soldiers. And the MPs were not fools — they naturally turned a blind eye to high-risk criminals. If they caught them, great. If not, whatever. It was essentially a policy of "no complaint, no investigation."
And to Lillian, this was perfect.
He thought to himself: Because of this system, there are countless hidden criminals inside Wall Sina. And these people will become my stepping stones.
One day, criminals would finally remember the terror of being hunted by the Military Police and the humiliation of being thrown into prison.
Criminals, your good days are over. Why? Because I'm here.