Chapter 813 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 813: Always Ahead of the Game "Achoo!" At the military base on the Death Coast, Mosquito suddenly sneezed without any warning as he stood by the warehouse, sniffling as he muttered to himself. "Damn, who is secretly in love with me again..." Upon hearing the sneeze, the mousefolk underling beside him quickly took off his coat and draped it over Mosquito’s shoulders with great diligence. Although it wasn't cold at all, Mosquito appreciated the gesture. In truth, while he often downplayed the value of his underling in front of Elder Fang, what Mosquito said was more like the way a father might complain about his son to other fathers—something to be taken with a grain of salt. To be fair, although this guy was a bit cowardly and looked rather sleazy, lacking the demeanor of an ace pilot, he did have his merits. For instance, he could read the room and knew how to please others. While expecting him to become his successor seemed unlikely, grooming him as the CEO or CSO of Goblin Tech might just work. After all, it's about making the best use of everything. Mosquito’s desire to show off kicked in again, so he waved the guy over. "Jerry, come here." The name was randomly made up at the request of the mousefolk, to help him shed the marks left by the Boro Province and to better integrate into the Alliance's society, while also aiming to escape the Samsara of the myriad beings and deities. Although Mosquito himself was an atheist and didn’t believe any of that, he agreed to his underling's request, hoping he could live a better life. The survivors of the Boro Province were not the same people who lived there three centuries ago. They looked quite similar to other survivors who escaped from the Great Desert, and a simple name change could disguise their origin well. At least those outside the Boro Province couldn’t tell the difference. Upon hearing Mosquito call him, Jerry quickly stepped forward, leaned in, and asked. "What can I do for you, sir?" Adjusting the coat on his shoulders, Mosquito tilted his head slightly, responding with an air of authority. "Watch and learn closely, I like you... It's a waste for you to sell small cards, I'll lead you to bigger deals in the future." This promise of a brighter future moved Jerry to the point that he almost knelt down right there and then. "Enough with that, look at you." Mosquito waved it off, stopping the outpouring of gratitude, then cleared his throat with determination and addressed the officer walking out of the warehouse. "Ahem! How do you find the items?" It was none other than Chopra, the quartermaster under General Commander Jahavan of the Puma Army from Tiger State, who emerged from the warehouse. His rank was that of a Chilarch. Glancing at the mousefolk next to Mosquito, Chopra, a member of the Tiger Clan, instinctively showed a hint of disdain. However, when he looked at Mosquito, his expression was strictly courteous. "I'm impressed with your goods... They will be of great help to us!" The shipment included twelve Conqueror X heavy tanks, thirty-six Conqueror V light tanks, and forty-eight 100mm artillery pieces! Additionally, there was a large quantity of “Blade” assault rifles and 7mm ammunition! These items were almost brand new. While they might not be as durable as the Alliance’s LD series weapons, they were certainly superior to the “Gut Rippers” sold in West Sailport! With these top-notch armaments, the Puma Army would easily be able to form another armored division, plus four or five infantry divisions! And all according to the regiment's standard! At that point, it wouldn’t just be the dignitaries of Tiandou bowing to them; even if some big shot from McAllen came to White Tiger City, they’d have to show some proper respect to Commander Jahavan before leaving! As the thought flowed through Chopra's mind, he couldn’t help but grin widely, eager to head back to White Tiger City with the equipment to claim credit. Seeing how delighted his client was, Mosquito also wore a pleased smile. "As long as you're satisfied! For small businesses, we don’t offer credit, so if it’s convenient, please settle the payment. As soon as we receive the funds, we’ll dispatch the goods with door-to-door delivery!" "No problem!" Chopra agreed without hesitation but then awkwardly added in a lower voice, "By the way, can we make the payment in Sylvan coins?" Sylvan coins? Mosquito was startled at first, then furrowed his brow and glared at Chopra. "Are you trying to dodge payment?" In other words, you want to pull a fast one on my turf? That's living on the edge! It wasn’t just Mosquito giving off hostile vibes. Jerry beside him was glaring at the Tiger Clansmen, as were Peacemaker, Godslayer, and the other henchmen following Mosquito. Seeing the Alliance bigwigs turning unfriendly, Chopra hurried to explain. "Please, sir, we wouldn’t dare skip out on paying you! It’s just... our silver reserves are somewhat tight right now, and we’re having trouble circulating cash." "And how is that my problem?" Mosquito replied sternly. “We deal in silver coins here. Who wants your paper?” Seeing no room for negotiation, Chopra was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, sweat beading on his forehead. When he still couldn’t come up with a response, Mosquito sighed, waving him off. “Forget it, if you’re not buying, you’re not buying. We can't force you. And besides, I’ll just talk to the warlords in Leopard State if you’re not serious about doing business.” Hearing this, Chopra could no longer sit idly by, especially as he saw Mosquito turning to leave, so he quickly shouted. "Wait!" Mosquito paused and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What? Suddenly have the cash now?" Chopra wrestled with himself for a moment, then gritted his teeth and made a firm decision. "Silver coins... We really can't afford them. The Imperial Royal Mint refuses to grant us a silver coin quota. But! We have a lot of Sylvan coins in our accounts! If you are willing to accept Sylvan payment, we’d offer… 80—no, 90! Wait! 100! We’ll exchange at 100 Sylvan coins per 1 silver coin to make this deal with you!" This was the last card Jahavan handed him. Had this batch of equipment not been so crucial, he wouldn’t have played it. Releasing liquidity from the White Tiger City bank account would be a hardship for the households and residents working in the local workshops. A few months ago, when the empire had just lifted its embargo against Gold Gallon Port, the Sylvan to Gallon exchange rate was 5:4, equivalent to about 12.5:1 against silver coins. Now doing the deal at 100:1 was like taking a loss to the extreme! Upon hearing Chopra’s offer, Mosquito indeed paused and turned back to the quartermaster standing in the warehouse door. 100:1! This rate was basically the bulk-purchase cost the Alliance banks would get from the South Sea Alliance Central Bank — downright generous! If it were a bank in Gold Gallon Port, the actual exchange rate of Sylvan coins to silver might be higher, possibly around 80:1. In other words, Goblin Tech could earn a 25% profit just from the exchange rate difference if they signed this deal! The only risk was having the cash tied up... Although he was averse to accepting Sylvan "vouchers," the deal was simply too lucrative. Mosquito wrestled with his thoughts but finally made a decision that went against his better judgment. "Damn it! It's a deal!" Once he had the Sylvan coins, he'd just rush them to Gold Gallon Port to swap for silver. It should be manageable! Moreover, if the Tiger State warlords could expand with this equipment, they might eventually have silver coins to trade in future transactions. It was a long-term business opportunity. Mosquito comforted himself with these thoughts. Hearing him agree, Chopra felt as though his heart was bleeding, and the aides behind him shut their eyes in agony. 100:1… They essentially had to pay a billion Sylvan coins per Conqueror X tank, a marked increase from a few months prior when tank import prices were merely twelve and a half million Sylvan coins—plus twenty free shells! The arms on the import list accounted for one-sixth of the army's strategic reserve across the Warlord’s Wilderness. Including future deliveries, the total value of the arms contract would reach a staggering 50 billion Sylvan coins! Even the first batch of weapons alone was worth 10 billion Sylvan coins! Nearly every Puma soldier present was mentally cursing. "Damn it... who the hell stole their money?" ... At this moment, far away in Dawn City, Bannert was completely unaware of the minor incident that had unfolded at Death Coast, and even less aware that the batch of military supplies he had been eyeing had quietly been sold off by a sixth already. After slamming the door to the Alliance Foreign Minister's office, he immediately regretted it as soon as he reached the hallway. Turning back now seemed too humiliating, though. Especially with the memory of that annoying face in his mind, Bannert gritted his teeth, and eventually, with a stomp, he marched resolutely toward the staircase. Noticing those queuing at the Foreign Affairs Registration Office staring at him, the still-fuming Bannert shot a glare back. "What are you all staring at?" Under the weight of his gaze, none of the diplomats—real or faux—dared to meet his eyes, quickly averting their gaze to avoid provoking this bear. The pettiness of the Weilanders was infamous. Though they might not excel at handling the Alliance, dealing with those around them was well within their capability, especially with ten battalions stationed on the eastern side of the Central Continent. Only when Bannert's stormy figure disappeared down the corridor did the survivors clustered at the door quietly resume their whispers. "Was that the Legion's ambassador?" "Sure was, just look at that nose!" "What got him so worked up?" "Who knows... they've been having verbal tussles with the Alliance on the net lately, maybe it wasn’t settled during the meeting." "Could it be that the Alliance and the Legion are going at it again?" "Hard to say. I heard the Legion is dissatisfied with how war spoils from Haiphong Province were divvied up, suspecting that the Alliance colluded with corporations to hide complete lifeform technologies, even pointing fingers at the Institute that barely spoke at the meeting." "Wouldn't be surprising if the Institute benefited somehow—they're notoriously crafty, making quiet gains." "Ugh, I just hope they don't really start a fight." Upon hearing rumors of war, most survivors wore expressions of worry and gloom. Most survivors standing there hailed from orderly and neutral settlements, primarily drawn by the prosperity brought by the emerging Adhesive Community, rather than to get caught in the clash of titans. Despite the general hope for peace, a few pragmatic souls sensed potential business opportunities amidst the tension. The chance of a direct conflict between the Alliance and the Legion was slim. Firstly, the cost of launching an expedition into the Great Desert was exorbitant for the Legion, with minimal returns to show for it. Secondly, should the Legion attempt eastern expansion, corporations would undoubtedly intervene, possibly dragging the Institute, busy recovering lost technologies from Haiphong Province, into the fray. Nevertheless— Even if direct conflict was unlikely, proxy wars between representatives weren't out of the question. Take Bister Town, for instance—a sore spot for the Falcon Kingdom, with its rival, the Honey Badger Kingdom, perpetually drooling for revenge. Should the Legion and Alliance decide to spar, the Sunset Province could swiftly become a powder keg waiting to explode. Then there’s Boro Province. Though it was the bureaucratic territory of Triumph City, without a direct military presence from the Legion, it was also a major development focus for the Alliance, especially as Baiyue Corporation had invested heavily along the east coast. If the Legion wanted to irk the Alliance, starting in Boro Province would be a noteworthy choice, potentially crippling the residents of Dawn City financially. As the crowd mulled over their thoughts and theories, the fuming Bannert had already entered the alliance's car parked outside the grand building. "Take me to Embassy Street!" He ordered the driver curtly, then sank back into the seat, eyes shut, his mind racing. Watching him discreetly was his secretary, Domini, who waited until Bannert's agitation subsided somewhat before softly asking. "Sir, what's the Alliance's stance?" Bannert gave a derisive snort. "Looks like they don't want to negotiate." Domini chuckled grimly. "I feel... maybe it's best not to act on impulse. The Alliance likely doesn't want us leaving so much equipment in the eastern part of the Central Continent." No sooner had he said these words than Bannert’s freshly calmed demeanor flared up again, cursing openly. "Impulsive? Me?" "Impulsive, my foot! Those damned blue land rats... had the luck of beating the Eastern Legion's depleted forces once, and now they think they can sit on our necks!" As Bannert ranted, Domini beside him could only let out silent sighs of resignation, offering futile comfort. Just then, the onboard communicator hanging by the car door rang. The bodyguard in the front seat glanced at the display and quickly turned to inform Bannert in the rear. "Sir, it’s General Lium calling." Hearing Lium’s name caused Bannert’s brow to twitch sharply. That's definitely the last voice he wanted to hear about now. Without a word, Bannert snatched up the communicator, pressing it to his ear only to be met with a thunderous roar. "What’s going on with the arms shipment to Bister Town? Why has it all been rerouted back to the Warlord’s Wilderness? Bannert, I demand an explanation right now!" Demand an explanation just like that... I’m not even under your command! Bannert cursed internally, but recognizing their blunder, he suppressed his temper and responded. "There was an incident with that shipment—" "An incident? What kind of incident could result in arms already at Bister Town being loaded back onto trucks for return to the Warlord’s Wilderness?" After taking a tongue-lashing, Bannert's temper flared up too, and he replied heatedly. "What do you want me to do? The Alliance broke the transport contract with us!" "The Alliance untrustworthy?" Lium let out a cold laugh. "Last I heard, your idiots got caught red-handed by the other side." Bannert's expression stiffened, his words hitching at the corners of his mouth. "Well, I can't rule that factor out—" Lium didn’t bother with niceties, continuing with a sneer. "I’ve told you before—your zoo buddies are unreliable. All they do is drag you down—no help at all." "Then whose bright idea was it to pressure the Alliance in the first place?” Bannert erupted suddenly, shouting angrily, “If it weren’t for some fool demanding action, would things have escalated this far? Also, you, Lium Commander—let’s not forget you endorsed arming the Empire! Don’t think you can dump all the blame on me!" A tense silence filled the car, broken only by Bannert's heaving breaths. The driver remained tense at the wheel, the bodyguard fixated on the scenery outside, while Domini discreetly wiped sweat from his brow. The silence extended to the other side of the call. Eventually, Lium broke it. "…let's figure out how to fix this." Realizing this wasn’t the time for bickering, Bannert reined in his anger and rapidly contemplated solutions. "The Western Legion... maybe their fleet can help. I'll contact them to deploy a few transport ships to the southern seas. As long as we can get the equipment to West Sailport, we have the shipping capacity to haul the gear back to Triumph City... even just a part of it." Lium lowered his voice. "Then you best hurry. Our troops are eager to return home. If we run out of options, I’ll offload any surplus equipment on-site." At these words, Bannert responded quickly. "Wait, I’m not against on-site liquidation, but you have to leave us at least a third of the supplies. Otherwise, what we currently possess isn’t enough to challenge the Alliance’s military presence in Boro Province—" "That’s your problem. Every day we linger in the east costs us over a million dinars. Regardless, we must withdraw over 90% of our forces west of the Great Desert by year’s end as instructed by the legion chief." With that, Lium ended the call abruptly, not waiting for Bannert to respond. Listening to the dial tone, Bannert cursed again, slamming the communicator back onto the car door. "…that damned pest! Dropping problems on me all the time!" By end of year... It was already nearing mid-December! Even if he switched from land to sea, where was he going to find so many ships at such short notice? Domini hesitated momentarily before speaking softly. “If they can manage to deal with the arms locally, then let them. After all, leaving those weapons in the eastern part of the Central Continent can cause some trouble for the Alliance and the corporations; it’s not a loss for us,” Domini suggested. “Who cares about them,” Bannert retorted, dismissively. “What I care about is the batch of arms they promised us… Those are crucial for us to arm the Empire! We need to retrieve at least the portion we were promised!” Domini pondered, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “Entrusting the Western Legion might be too late. Not to mention the hefty costs involved in getting those guys over here, even if they do come, it wouldn't be until early next month at the earliest…” “Then let’s assemble a fleet from West Sailport. We’ll mobilize the local settlers; those running businesses there likely have some ships. Get back as much as we can.” Bannert massaged his weary brow, looking utterly exhausted. For the sake of their “ally,” Xilan, he had gone above and beyond—helping develop industries, gathering trainers, and even selling equipment at a discount. Unfortunately, these guys just couldn’t get it together—they couldn’t defeat the Alliance and even failed against a bunch of mountain bandits, losing a state almost as large as Haiphong Province in the process! If they could show just a bit more backbone, he wouldn’t be in such a predicament… Noticing the anxious look on Commander Bannert’s face, Domini quickly assured him, “I’ll get the message to West Sailport as soon as possible!” Bannert nodded, “Alright, it’s in your hands.” Relaying a message to West Sailport wasn’t nearly as convenient as a call to the front lines. For now, only Gold Gallon Port in the Boro Province had Alliance cable access, and even Mammoth State, an Alliance subordinate, was still in the process of applying. Perhaps... Triumph City could consider investing in a cable connection to West Sailport. At least it would link their vassal, the Falcon Kingdom, on the Central Continent’s eastern side, allowing them quicker access to updates from Boro Province. Thoughts like these swirled in Bannert’s mind as he casually picked up the Survivor Daily newspaper stashed by the car door, intending to pass the time with news. But as he glanced at the headline, Bannert froze, utterly stunned. The headline read: ["Sky Ladder" Orbital Transport Company Registered! Ideal Group Acquires 33% Stake, "Sky Ladder" Project Enters Construction Preparation Stage!] He had always thought that the Alliance’s announcement of the space elevator project at this juncture, along with conjuring up conspiracy theories about "Celestials," was mainly a ploy to divert attention from multiple member states of the Adhesive Community. It was probably to cover up issues like the uneven distribution of spoils from the Battle of Paradise. Unexpectedly— “…They’re actually going through with it?” To Be Continued.