North of the town, Woodbury.
Change didn't seem to be happening only in the former Mine Camp.
The only difference was that the Mine Camp was a power struggle between two factions.
In Woodbury, however, the change was top-down, imposed by the upper echelons on the lower ranks!
In the very center of the Community, inside that three-story building.
Several rays of light penetrated faintly through the tightly closed Venetian blinds.
Accompanying the rising light was a swirl of dust.
A figure draped in a coarse black coat sat slumped on the ground.
His eyes were vacant, and a strong mixed scent of alcohol and corpse wafted from him, making him seem like a Walker, a walking dead.
On the small chair in front of the man, a slender, bizarre figure dangled.
It had a shriveled Walker head, but its lower body was a half-human-sized plush toy body.
Its head was tilted, and every joint and limb on its body was twisted.
If one looked closely, they would surely notice several rows of dense, terrifying stitch marks between the Walker head and the plush toy.
The man kept staring at it, as if it could move at any moment.
Suddenly--
The man's eyes flickered, and a faint murmur from outside the building reached his ears.
He began to support himself on the table behind him, forcing himself to stand up.
He silently walked to the curtain, took a deep breath, and then abruptly pulled it open and stepped out.
Standing on the balcony, he looked at the crowd gathered below, with Martinez standing at the very front, shouting loudly.
"Governor, everything is ready."
Martinez didn't even call him 'Governor' anymore, directly addressing him as Governor.
Behind Martinez, besides all the militia, were the remaining residents of the Community.
That's right, it was… the remaining ones.
With the changes that had occurred nearly two weeks prior, the internal stability of the Community had begun to gradually waver.
Just as Shawn had said, a lie is always a lie; something false, no matter how real or how many people believe it, can never become true.
When the carefully constructed persona of the Governor began to waver and collapse in the hearts of the residents, a new war began.
After a major blow, the Governor remained silent for several days.
When he gradually came to his senses, the Governor spent another three days thoroughly cleaning out Woodbury, inside and out.
Anyone who dared to leave, or openly questioned the Community residents, mysteriously disappeared after one night and were never seen again.
Even if someone found their bodies, they would only find disfigured remains gnawed by Walkers.
Eliminating dissent through physical means was no longer a new concept for the Governor and Martinez.
So this time, he was still thorough.
Meeting Martinez's eyes, the Governor seemed to be in a daze for a moment, then nodded as if he had come back to his senses.
Facing his'subjects,' the Governor seemed to have regained his former feeling, and a hint of vitality appeared on his face.
"Recently, some things have happened."
When the Governor spoke, everyone instantly fell silent, looking up at him with uneasy eyes.
The Governor spoke unhurriedly, as if he were not involved in the incident.
"Do you remember what I said before?"
"That Prison, the people inside are all threats, they are all threats… threats."
The Governor lowered his head, repeating himself exhaustedly.
"They are the virus carriers, they destroyed other people's homes, and now they want to destroy our home!"
The Governor raised his head, his tone beginning to rise slightly.
"Michonne was the first, and then came the second time!"
"When they entered our home for the second time, and even released Walkers to interfere with our army, by the time I cleared the Walkers and returned, everything had already happened!"
"Now, they are even surrounding Woodbury, constantly hunting down members who venture out!"
The Governor's voice was full of inflections.
"Originally, I gave Michonne a chance, but later I realized I was wrong, completely wrong!"
"They are just a bunch of beasts worse than Walkers; only by scaring them, by completely eliminating them, can everything end."
"Think about your families; the same situation might happen to them in the near future!"
The Governor's threatening and inflammatory words made the Community residents look at each other with worried eyes.
It's just that they didn't know if the Governor was talking about the people from the Prison or himself.
"This matter cannot be left like this; we must have revenge!!"
The Governor's voice suddenly rose.
"This is a holy war of revenge! We must fight for our fallen members!"
"The Prison, it should rightfully belong to Woodbury!!"
The crowd was silent until several sounds of bolts being drawn came, and only then did they react belatedly.
"The Prison… should… belong to Woodbury?"
"The Prison… belongs to Woodbury!"
"The Prison should rightfully belong to Woodbury!!!"
They began to repeatedly shout, raising their right hands like the Governor.
The momentum grew stronger!
The voices became more uniform!
The phrases became smoother!
From beginning to end, they were nothing more than a flock of sheep surrounded by wolves.
When the wolves constantly instilled in them the idea that when 'the wolf comes,' they should hide behind them, that was when the real hunt began.
And when the wolves needed to drive them, they would try to attack with their not-so-sharp horns, appearing clumsy and foolish.
Perhaps this is what residents of a'small society' are like.
Then the crowd dispersed.
They entered the houses in small groups, changing into the equipment and weapons distributed by the militia.
The Governor went downstairs, and Martinez proactively went to meet him.
"This is the first time you've come down on your own in days."
But what came first was another person's voice.
The Governor turned his head and saw Milton.
But then, his eyes showed no emotion, and he looked back at Martinez.
"Are the soldiers ready?"
"Excluding those who died in the line of duty and those who chose to leave, there are 32 militiamen left, plus the Community residents, making over a hundred people."
"In my eyes, they are all soldiers."
The Governor's tone was somewhat cold.
Even Martinez, who had always been his right-hand man, couldn't help but feel a chill when the Governor stared at him.
"Are… are we heading straight for the Prison?"
"No."
For the first time, emotion appeared on the Governor's face; he looked at Martinez in surprise.
"Some of them have never even fired a gun; take them to another place first."
"You mentioned that troublesome Mine last time."
"Take that place, and use the spoils to give our soldiers some confidence, tell them that Woodbury still has dominion!"
Martinez quickly lowered his head.
"Understood, the Mine is an auxiliary Camp of the Prison."
His tone was firm and unquestionable, sounding like the perfect 'execution tool' who would never say no to the one in power.
After speaking, Martinez immediately turned and walked towards the Fully Armed soldiers.
Only Milton remained, looking at the Governor with complex eyes, saying nothing.
The Governor only left him with a cold back.
Milton's mind involuntarily recalled the Governor's question.
"Everything I do is only for the rebuilding of civilization and a better future for Woodbury, Milton, you should trust me, right?"
"No…"
"You are a liar, a deceiver!"
Milton turned and left without hesitation.
He had to do what he needed to do before it was too late.
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