"Looks like some gentlemen are getting quite impatient here~" Murphy said behind his mask, but everyone could sense the mocking smirk underneath.
"I know y'all are in a hurry, but hold your horses," Murphy shrugged. "I haven't even finished laying down the ground rules yet."
Murphy held up his index finger which began swirling with shining magical energy. After a brief charge up, a beam shot out towards the crowd, neatly dividing the prisoners into two even groups.
Murphy pointed at Witt and the Captain he had singled out earlier. "There's two thousand of you. You've been split into two teams with these fellas as your captains. Some folks will be around shortly to register everyone. You'll be competing during your work shifts."
"There will be overseers evaluating your work quality and timing. Each month end, totals will be calculated. The better performing team gets a 10% bonus to their monthly hours. The losers? Well, they'll have 10% docked of course."
"And finally, any major discoveries or innovations made during the labor and farming will be rewarded with 100-500 bonus work hours if verified."
"That sums up the rules.
One. overtime allowed.
Two. competition between teams.
Three. incentives for innovation.
Any other questions so far?"
In the silence, one man nervously spoke up. "Uh, beg pardon sir, but where exactly are we?"
Murphy looked at the timid man. "All will be revealed when you leave here."
No further questions followed.
"One last thing," Murphy added. "More buddies will be joining your ranks soon. Play nice together." With that, Murphy turned and left.
The prisoners looked around bewildered until Witt broke the silence with a dejected, "Well, no point standing around. Let's go grab some shovels..."
\---
The next morning, the City of Gath was still under tight security as Sam and Lambert accompanied sizable gangs of skeleton miners in forcibly conscripting various street toughs and gang members who had participated in the $0 Shopping spree - hauling them straight out of their beds after only getting to enjoy 2-3 square meals in the comfort of their homes.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The combat capabilities of such street thugs has always been an enigma - the easier they seem to bully, the tougher they become. But faced with uncompromising brute squads like these miners, the thugs resorted to trembling like lambs lined up for slaughter. Normally emboldened by safety in numbers and allegiance to their leaders, they now found themselves isolated and caught unawares, their fighting spirit barely half of an average city guard.
Initially, Murphy had meant to simply investigate the slums gang presence and make an example out of some to establish dominance. But upon learning of their brazen raid on Alaric's shop, he immediately instructed Lambert and Sam to throw the book at all involved. And so the second wave of mass arrests began in earnest.
After another day of processing, the 200 groggy goons woke up to find themselves stripped of status and freedom, reduced to unpaid labor slaves. And they were now face to face with 2000 hardened ex-city guards who still looked plenty imposing even without weapons.
Street thugs have always deferred to uniformed troops. And so they began to instinctively huddle together like penguins against the cold wind. Just then, a bare-chested young militia leader stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "Join us brothers! With combined strength, we'll be out of here in no time!"
The thugs blinked in confusion. "Huh?"
"Witt! How dare you steal my men!" came an angry bellow behind Witt, who stood unperturbed with hope still shining in his eyes towards the gang members.
The thugs looked uncertainly to their own bosses until one finally moved to grasp Witt's hand in comradeship. Just then the Captain roughly slapped their hands apart.
That was the last straw for Witt who could barely contain his rage now. "What is your problem, Rutherford??"
"You dare address me directly by name?" sputtered the purple-faced Captain.
"What, no using names now? And who made you lord here?" Witt shot back as he loosened up for an imminent brawl - already the third time in one day...
\---
The vicious rat race had begun last night itself when Murphy simply divided the crowd and left the confused prisoners to their own devices. Witt quickly rallied young recruits around him through inspiration over station. Among the detainees, age and background mattered little now compared to able-bodied numbers When it became clear that strong arms and backs would determine outcomes rather than rank.
The 1000 headcount per team also limited openings despite new intakes. And so most of the youth gathered behind Witt while the leftovers and social climbers joined up with the Captain, hoping to curry favor for later.
Apart from the grizzled troops in their 20s and 40s, a few senior staff officers in their 50s and 60s proved especially useless. Having lived soft privileged lives, even basic manual labor would probably kill them before release. After Witt firmly rejected their clumsy offers of reward for placement on his crew, they had no choice but to reluctantly board the Captain's ship.
After 8 hours of toil and 2 hours of fistfights, the men staggered back into their 20-man tents to turn in for the night. But then a flash heralded the arrival of 200 new prisoners. Witt burst out half-naked, ready to stake first claim to the new blood only to be blocked again by the Captain...
In the distance atop a hill, Murphy turned to his apprentice practicing dark energy arts. "What are your thoughts so far?"
"Is this what they call conflict displacement?" mused Pepe, stroking his chin in imitation of Murphy.
"Bright lad. You'll go far as my door opener," Murphy praised.