Half a month had passed since the last brawl among the prisoners of war. To strengthen the management of the POWs, many Qin soldiers had been assigned new duties, and the fifty-man garrison under Brian Clark's command was also tasked with supervising the prisoners. The job didn’t seem all that complicated—each day was spent watching the POWs dig and fill earth, and most of the time was spent walking among them to exert a deterrent presence.

Just yesterday, he had finally learned where he was. This place wasn’t far from the capital, Xianyang; it was a medium-sized county under the jurisdiction of Beidi Commandery, called Yinmi.

Yinmi was less than fifty li from the imperial center, Neishi Commandery, and not close to any rivers. From higher-ranking officers, Brian Clark learned that the imperial core wanted to reinforce the trunk of the Straight Road, though no one really questioned why.

It was said that traces of the Qin Empire’s Straight Road could still be found even two thousand years after its construction. The method of building the Straight Road was something of a mystery, but in Brian Clark’s eyes, the process seemed both grand and monotonous.

The construction method was to remove all grass and even trees, clear away anything plant-related, and use some means Brian Clark couldn’t comprehend to alter the flow of underground water, making the soil within the construction area as dry as possible.

In front of Brian Clark, hundreds of people were digging a massive trench about three zhang deep and six zhang wide. Those sturdy, muscular men were battling the earth with wooden tools.

Once the trench was dug, more strong men carried over a strange, large apparatus.

It was a deformed contraption supported by four huge crossbeams, with wooden planks blocking the view of its inner workings, and the bottom was covered with densely packed, oval-shaped conical objects.

After the apparatus was set in place, thousands of POWs formed a long line like ants, each carrying a load of dry earth on their shoulders. They spread the earth evenly in the trench, then painstakingly leveled it, raising the bottom of the originally three-zhang-deep trench.

Under Brian Clark’s puzzled gaze, they then used wooden buckets to bring over some foul-smelling, viscous liquid.

He deliberately stopped a POW, and while the man trembled with anxiety, Brian Clark observed the viscous liquid.

From a distance, the smell was barely noticeable, but up close it was so pungent it made him dizzy. He detected a familiar trace in the odor—it seemed like petroleum! But judging by the color, it didn’t seem to be?

What exactly was this? The liquid was indeed petroleum, but it wasn’t asphalt for paving roads. The mixture contained glutinous rice and wood shavings, but no resin. It was, in short, a strange product that Brian Clark didn’t understand.

Brian Clark had wanted to scoop some up for a closer look, but thought better of it and waved the POW back to work. He guessed that getting any of that strange stuff on himself would be extremely unlucky—very unlucky!

While he was lost in thought, a squad of soldiers drove a large group of people over. Brian Clark quickly called his own unit to assemble, and upon approaching, was surprised to find that the people being herded were not POWs. Their clothing made it clear they were nomads.

“Brian!”

The leader was none other than the direct superior of Jia, a centurion named William Carter. Because of work, he and Brian Clark saw each other often and were fairly familiar.

In the Qin army, unless someone was your direct superior, you couldn’t address them as “Master”; instead, you used their rank and sequence, often calling them by their twenty-rank title plus surname or given name.

Brian Clark bowed and saluted: “Alice Carter (zanniao, Qin third-rank title)!”

William Carter didn’t seem particularly rigid, which was somewhat at odds with the “personality” of the Qin army. He clapped his hands and smiled: “These beasts, you and Jia can execute them together on the spot, how about it?”

“I bought a watch last year!” Brian Clark’s body tensed up instantly—the word “beasts” deeply shocked him. “Uh?”

The Qin military system was strict; without a direct superior’s officer’s token, you couldn’t control anyone. William Carter thought Brian Clark was unwilling, and though a bit displeased, couldn’t say anything: “So be it, then.”

“Alice Carter……” There was no way Brian Clark would casually offend an officer. “Brian obeys.”

Only then did William Carter laugh heartily: “Good!”

After William Carter left, Brian Clark finally had a chance to ask Jia, “Beasts means…?”

Jia answered directly, “Gui means evil, chu means livestock!”

It really was “I bought a watch last year.” After a long explanation, Brian Clark finally understood that it was a negative term meaning “heinous” or “extremely detestable.” He’d been startled just now, thinking William Carter was a time traveler from Japan.

Next, Brian Clark learned what “execution on the spot” meant: nearly a thousand bound foreigners were driven into the trench, forced down one by one, and slaughtered with flashing blades and swords.

Streams of blood flowed over the thin soil, forming rivulets among the corpses, attracting swarms of flies. Amid the buzzing, Brian Clark couldn’t help but vomit, nearly unable to straighten his back.

Jia’s face didn’t look much better, but he mocked the nearly hundred comrades—including Brian Clark—who were bent over retching, though his laughter was shaky and weak.

Suppressing his nausea, Brian Clark still had to command the soldiers to place the corpses at various points along the Straight Road as William Carter had ordered. This wasn’t any kind of religious ritual, because soon POWs came and poured more of that viscous liquid over them. The black, sticky fluid mixed with the corpses and blood, and another layer of earth was spread on top.