The Red Alert Begins in the Wasteland

"Name?"

"Chen Xidong."

"Occupation?"

"Computer software programming technician, senior title."

...

"Name?"

"Lin Wenhong."

"Occupation?"

"Professor of the Department of Literature Studies, Iraqi National University."

...

A long line lined up inside the first wall, a table, a computer, and a recorder, facing five hundred ragged slaves.

Behind is the gate of the second wall, these five hundred people looked around with a cold expression, as if they had nothing to look forward to in the unknown fate.

Every slave who walked up to register, only had a deadly calm heart.

For this world, each of them has no expectations.

The intense electromagnetic storm destroyed most of the computers in the world and also destroyed human civilization.

In the current world, there is no need for so many experts in the computer field, and even less need for those old studies of culture and history.

But the knowledge of these people is still more valuable than ordinary people, and naturally became the main target of the slave business.

Especially in the Middle East, after the establishment of the China-Africa Alliance, it vigorously advocated education to rejuvenate the country. In just a dozen years, a generation of people has completely risen under the excellent educational resources.

A large number of outstanding technical talents of various types have been cultivated for the member states of the federation, but after the catastrophe, the changes of the times have caused many sought-after talents to become less important.

It seems that most of these people are young experts and experts in the computer field, but in this computer world environment where there are few computers available, they are almost useless.

The online world is destroyed in an instant. Even if there is a computer, it is only a stand-alone world, unless humans in the world can persist and continue to use more than ten or two decades to rebuild a cyber world covering all mankind.

Talents lose their value and become commodities that are bought and sold.

It's just that they don't know the new owner who bought everyone at once. What do you want them to do?

However, they are too lazy to guess, even if the next door is hell, they have nothing to say. Because since being treated as slaves, for each of them, they have already boarded a one-way car to hell.

After registering one by one, the slaves took their own numbers, and then consciously walked through the gate of the second fence.

Behind the gate. Three field medical vehicles were waiting for them, one by one, according to their own numbers, they went to the medical vehicles for physical examination.

After confirming that he was healthy, there was a temporary bathhouse behind, and all the clothes he took off were directly burned in the incinerator next to him.

All the slaves who were cleanly washed, some people gave them haircuts, shaved off the messy scum, and put on brand new clothes.

Soon, everyone's external image has undergone earth-shaking changes, and the sloppy color has long since disappeared. After putting on the clothes, they looked quite like an intellectual.

It's just that this set of procedures has made everyone feel a little more active. After all, some people have changed hands several times in a short period of time.

In the past, after being treated as a commodity transaction, the health condition was confirmed at most, and then it was stuffed into the slave market.

How can there be detailed registration and comprehensive medical examinations like now. There are new clothes to wear after the change.

It's just that they still can't think of it, the people here don't seem to treat them as commodities to sell again.

But what can they do now?

And the high walls around them are telling everyone that it is not easy here.

at least. They have never seen a safe area where such a large wall can be built.

The major safety zones where financial, manpower, and material resources are in short supply cannot make ideas even if they have ideas.

The rare and somewhat puzzled slaves, after being neatly dressed, were taken under an equally tall wall.

Here, nearly twenty recorders are waiting here.

"Re-record the information. All the information you used to be invalidated, turn your eyes on the camera, and answer all of my questions. Then I will give you an ID card and approach the wall behind me. Someone there tells you what to do next doing what."

The recorder under the second fence said mechanically, seeing the slave in front of him obediently looking at the camera, he began to routinely ask all relevant news.

The slave who was the first to complete the inquiry immediately received an ID card that was still a little hot.

On the ID card, there are their photos and some simple information. The chip in the ID card can read the detailed information just recorded.

The slaves who received the ID card came to the third wall gate in turn. Two regular soldiers with guns and live ammunition beside the door said indifferently: "Take out your ID card, swipe the recognizer, and you can enter. "

The third wall came in, was a large plain, and walked forward along the broad national road, which was Shaxi Town.

Outside Shaxi Town, in a temporary camp, a soldier from the cooking class was preparing lunch for the slaves with the help of the survivors.

It's just that the slaves who came one after another were all gathered outside the camp, and they could only smell the fragrance inside and leave their saliva.

Al Yessel and Zhao Long were standing at the gate of the camp, looking at the slaves who were slowly gathering together from time to time.

He cut off his messy hair, hung up his beard, washed off all the mud and put on new clothes.

These five hundred people looked like they no longer looked like slaves, and they looked more like ordinary people waiting for their fate to be judged.

The constant high pressure environment made them stand quietly with their heads low. No one dared to whisper, and no one dared to move at will.

Although there are not many guards around them.

However, under the calm surface, they were very shocked. They had never heard of this place, and they had never been to this place.

And this only refers to the main road from Erbil to Mosul now, how could they not know?

They really didn't know what was built for such a huge base.

Now, they can smell the scent of the food, not the nutrient that only supplies 200 grams a day, but the scent of the food before the catastrophe.

If it were to be replaced by a general survivor, I am afraid that it would be a little bit ready at this time.

But they dare not, not only because of the helpless status of slaves~www.wuxiaspot.com~, but also because they are all smart people with a lot of culture.

When all five hundred slaves gathered, El Yessel stepped forward and shouted with a loudspeaker: "You can smell the scent of the food. It is for you, but we don’t need waste here. Or if you want to eat there, you can simply pass the exam."

As soon as Al Yessel's words fell, five groups of soldiers ran out, ten people in each group, and a tablet computer in the soldier's hand.

"There are all of them. There are fifty people in a row, and there are ten rows in a row."

Hearing that the slaves who could eat the food finally had a trace of excitement on their faces, they lined up quickly and neatly, all looking forward to the waiting exam.

"Go forward five steps in the first row, listen to my orders from the second row to the tenth row, and turn back."

The front line was not very neat. The fifty people in the first row stepped forward five steps a little excitedly, while the back line all turned back.

"All of them, sit down, the first row of exams start, no one else is allowed to look back." (To be continued.)