Volume One: The Civil Code

Two months after the siege of dinosaurs had ended, Yang Jie’s ratfolk tribe ushered in its first golden age of development.

The first batch of rice yielded a bountiful harvest, with grain reserves surpassing two million units. Even timber and stone stocks reached one hundred eighty thousand and one hundred ten thousand units, respectively.

Such achievements did not come easily. The ratfolk population was about to break into five figures, and just constructing houses and their supporting facilities was a significant expense, not to mention the building of defensive structures.

Stone was mainly limited by primitive collection methods. At this point, the tribe was still in a rudimentary dark age, with the ratfolk’s physical strength far inferior to that of larger races. Coupled with the limitations of their tools and the inconvenience of transportation, the majority of the stone reserves had only been achieved with help from their allied lizardfolk tribe.

Copper ore remained elusive. Yang Jie had simply given up on the idea of quickly advancing to the Bronze Age. Even if copper were discovered, the current resources and productivity of the ratfolk couldn’t support its extraction.

Over these two months, the primary focus was restructuring the population. The first generation of young rats had already matured and joined the ranks of workers.

In terms of daily life, both education and healthcare advanced hand in hand, blossoming and thriving.

It was worth noting, however, that public security was increasingly under strain. With the rapid rise in the tribe’s population and the generally crude construction of ratfolk homes, thefts became frequent, leaving the inexperienced Little Billy overwhelmed.

On this front, Yang Jie was especially attentive. In a forest this vast, every kind of bird will appear. He directly appointed Victor as consultant to the Department of Public Security for a special crackdown.

Yang Jie understood well that the Andes ratfolk were diligent and brave, but among them lurked petty thieves. To protect the fruits of his people’s hard labor, Victor’s solution was both simple and ruthless.

First, he collaborated with Wendy’s census department to cast a wide net, conducting thorough investigations that quickly identified several habitual offenders.

There was zero tolerance for these recidivists. They were publicly paraded through the town center, hands bound, and hung from stakes under the searing sun.

But Victor’s iron-fisted methods did not end there.

When aggrieved members of the crowd began to hurl stones at the thieves, the situation spiraled out of control. At first, the honest rat farmers were hesitant, but seeing Victor’s tacit approval, they grew bolder.

Even ratfolk who had never been victimized joined in, and those who had lost much to theft were all the more eager.

As the saying goes: when the wall collapses, all rats push; when the drum is broken, all rats beat it.

Under the scorching summer sun, the seven habitual offenders were stoned to death by the furious mob, the scene bloody and brutal.

This was precisely the effect Victor sought. On one hand, the public execution served as a dire warning to would-be wrongdoers, and its impact was immediate: the crime rate within the tribe plummeted almost overnight.

On the other hand, it allowed the people to vent their anger. The tribe could not possibly compensate everyone who suffered losses; otherwise, it would be simpler to just hand out food to these idle thieves.

With no hope of recovering their lost property, the aggrieved found their catharsis in public retribution.

For the leadership, credibility and authority were essential, but the tribe was destined to move toward civilization. For such bloody tasks, it was best to let the people themselves wield the blade.

A little incitement, a gentle nudge, and everything fell into place: deterrence for the criminals, and no complaints from the populace.

Such is the art of politics—

And the iron hand of Victor, the enforcer.

It was a masterstroke, achieving three goals with one act. The third became evident the day after the execution of the seven thieves.

Victor announced the establishment of the Ratfolk Court and, with Yang Jie’s signature, issued the tribe’s first legal code: the Andes Ratfolk Civil Code.

Thanks to the public execution, the ratfolk realized that the old system of elders making decisions no longer suited the tribe’s development; a detailed legal framework was desperately needed.

In this way, the notorious execution paved the way for the dissemination and enforcement of the Civil Code.

Afterward, many psychological barriers within the tribe vanished. When everyone began to fear arbitrary punishment, the Civil Code arrived as a clarion call.

Yang Jie had personally drafted the code, tailoring it to the tribe’s circumstances and his own legal knowledge. It was comprehensive, covering every aspect of daily life.

Especially noteworthy was the zero-tolerance policy toward repeat offenders, reflecting Yang Jie’s intent: not only to enshrine the rule of law, but also to make his people respect and fear it.

Thus, the birth of the Civil Code began to shape the tribe’s legal consciousness and laid a solid foundation for future legislation.

While other lords still fought for survival, Yang Jie was already shaping the ideology of his entire race.

At the same time, the upper ranks were restructured. Victor’s excellent performance earned him direct appointment by Yang Jie as Minister of Justice and Minister of Public Security.

Little Billy, formerly acting Minister of Justice, was reassigned to the Department of Agriculture, tasked with overseeing grain production. Should he fail in this role, Yang Jie would replace him without hesitation.

Wendy, too, had her weaknesses exposed as the tribe grew. Her kindness and compassion, once her signature, now became liabilities—especially evident during the debates about dealing with the lizardfolk. Politics is cold, and as the tribe’s leader, Yang Jie had to consider the big picture. With nearly ten thousand ratfolk under his rule, everything had to be done by the book.

Wherever power exists, so does hierarchy. The upper class seeks to bind the middle, while the middle strives to ascend by drawing closer to the top. Thus, factionalism is an inevitable result of power.

Many believe power flows solely from above, but this is a fundamental error. True power always comes from below.

Victor did not gain ministerial authority simply because Yang Jie appointed him Minister of Justice. Rather, Victor’s influence within the tribe justified his appointment; the title was a formal transfer of power, not its source.

Power must be supported from below. Even if Yang Jie named Little Billy as Minister of Justice, it would be a hollow position if the people did not accept him—they truly recognized Victor.

If this isn’t clear, consider that Little Billy’s removal as acting Minister of Public Security wasn’t due to incompetence, but a lack of influence.

Within the tribe, the most influential department was not Public Security or Justice, but Old Sha’s Department of Construction, which now had nearly four hundred staff and was still short-handed.

Yang Jie had long recognized Old Sha’s political talents. But what was the real source of Old Sha’s confidence to embezzle so blatantly? Yang Jie’s trust? His business acumen?

Neither.

The real reason was Old Sha’s monopolization and manipulation of power.

Everyone knew Old Sha used his position to amass wealth, yet no one openly reported him. This was a question of power dynamics. Old Sha didn’t embezzle alone—he shared the spoils with everyone in his department, and crucially, he kept everything running smoothly.

In essence, he distributed parts of his own authority as Minister of Construction to every member of his department. Why would anyone betray him?

Why didn’t other departments report him? Again, it was about power. Within the department, sharing power and profits was distribution; between senior officials, it was exchange.

Through distribution and exchange, power grew and extended. Those who understood this saw the truth; for those who didn’t, no further explanation would suffice.

Beyond manipulation lay monopoly. If Yang Jie ever tried to remove Old Sha, he would find no suitable replacement within the department—Old Sha’s monopoly left no alternative.

Yang Jie’s real aim in elevating Victor, using the Civil Code and the Ministry of Justice, was not simply to let Victor shine, but to balance Old Sha’s power bloc with one of his own. Yang Jie never said this outright, but he believed Victor would understand.

Of all the tribe’s leaders, only Victor could rival Old Sha politically. In terms of strategy, Wendy, Old Gil, Little Billy, and even One-Eye together were no match for Old Sha.

Yet the presence of Wendy and the others was equally crucial. They served as a buffer between political factions, remaining neutral and unaligned.

Yang Jie understood well: the tribe needed men of action like Victor, and cunning, indispensable ministers like Old Sha. Corrupt officials and capable ministers were not mutually exclusive.

From nations to organizations, only a balanced internal power structure could be healthy.

When Old Sha learned of Victor’s appointment as Minister of Justice and Public Security, he lay back in bed and exhaled slowly.

Gently stroking Orissa’s furry back, he murmured,

“I’ll have to find an opportunity to speak with him alone.”