Chapter 817 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 817: Chain Reaction "......All the suffering survivors on the wasteland are comrades on the same front. Although we haven't fought side by side yet, I believe that someone as kind-hearted as you wouldn't refuse to become friends with the people of the Province of Boro." Zaide's mind was working quickly. Even though he had not yet fully recovered from the chaos of the crash, he instinctively lowered his stance, awkwardly attempting to regain some favor from this young lady. "My name is Zaide... Miss Eliza, I apologize for disturbing you in such an abrupt manner." Though his smooth-talking humor could dispel some awkwardness, it was clearly not endearing. However, considering his voluntary introduction, Eliza relaxed her furrowed brow and spoke in a milder tone. "Eliza, nice to meet you... And you are?" Unexpectedly, the esteemed young lady directed her gaze towards him, and standing behind Zaide, Sawa dared not meet her beautiful eyes. He stammered. "I... I'm Vasa." Seeing this display of ineptitude, Zaide sighed and looked at Eliza with a hint of apology. "I'm sorry, he's... my student, as well as my assistant. Though he's quite capable, he tends to be shy." "My apologies!" Sawa hurriedly bowed, expressing his regret. Looking at this clumsy young man, Eliza suddenly thought of herself from last year and couldn't help but smile gently, speaking in a warm tone. "There's no need to apologize for such things. No one is born capable of handling everything alone. I have a... friend, who couldn't help but cry when facing difficulties in the past, but now she can calmly think of strategies. I believe you can do the same. After all, you've traveled much farther than she has." She wasn't sure how far the Province of Boro was, but it had to be much farther than the distance between Boulder City and Dawn City. "Thank you..." The voice was like a spring breeze, causing the boy to lower his forehead even more, his eyes fixed on his shoes, as a blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. What a kind-hearted girl! No one had ever encouraged him like this, not even his closest family. Although he had no doubts about Mr. Zaide's correctness, he couldn't help but feel puzzled... Whether the teacher who had always helped and taught him had misunderstood something. Turning his gaze back to Zaide's face, Eliza spoke with a slightly serious tone. "Mr. Zaide, I'm not narrow-minded. If you're sincerely apologetic, just tell me directly. Please don't use the survivors of the Province of Boro as a shield. We are certainly happy to become friends with them, but you do not represent them." "Indeed... I was inconsiderate," Zaide admitted his mistake straightforwardly and honestly. Perhaps his reasoning was indeed flawed. This woman, who fussed over trivial matters, did not seem particularly cunning. Instead, she gave him a somewhat... silly impression. If it was a matter of disliking his lack of capital, so be it. But she clearly wasn't rejecting him for that reason, rather, she seemed to be throwing a childish tantrum. Does honesty on such harmless issues really matter? The outcome hadn't caused any adverse effects. Not to mention, he had managed to smooth things over without leaving anyone disgraced; a politically astute person would simply smile it off. Besides, if he ended up winning, this could become a tale praised by the public. However, he didn't believe his analysis was wrong, just that there was a lack of information. In Dawn City, investigating someone was extremely challenging, especially for him, who was still in the entrepreneurial stage. He lacked a loyal security team and even diplomatic immunity, and had to carefully avoid violating the Union's laws. Eliza nodded slightly, leaning over to converse quietly with the stern-looking staff member beside her. "I haven't met them before, but they don't seem to be bad people; it's probably just a misunderstanding." The staff member still had a concerned expression, asking seriously. "Are you sure you don't need me to call security?" Eliza chuckled helplessly. "No, no, such a minor issue isn't worth troubling anyone. I can handle it." The staff member's expression gradually softened, giving Zaide a warning glance that seemed to say "I'll remember your face," before turning to re-enter the arena. Once he was gone, Eliza turned back to Zaide. "Let's get to the point. What do you need from me? Although, before that, I'd actually like to know, where did you hear my name?" Zaide maintained a pleasant smile, as he still hoped to gain something from the young woman before him. "You underestimate your own fame. Your name is known to everyone in Boulder City, just as well as that fictional Paul." Eliza responded courteously. "You flatter me, I'm not that remarkable." Zaide continued with a smile. "No, I'm not flattering you in the slightest. In fact... I'm quite impressed by you." Eliza's expression remained polite, yet her smile remained distant. "Praising me won't get you any benefits." "You're too wary of me; every word I say is sincere..." Gazing into her intelligent eyes, Zaide feigned innocence, sighing as he spoke. "From the drunks in the bar, to the newspaper boys, to the clerks behind the bank counters... everyone holds you in high regard." "They universally laud your bravery and kindness, believing you helped them avoid the worst outcomes and ultimately achieve an almost impossible miracle." "To be honest, I don't believe in gods, but I can't help but wonder if you have divine protection. For any other person, they likely wouldn't have met a fortunate end." In response to his heartfelt words, Eliza found herself believing some of what he said. He might indeed have a certain admiration for her, though it wasn't for her personality or anything she was particularly proud of. It was something else... Like the shadow used to highlight the light in a sketch. If that's the case, then the residents of the Province of Boro are truly pitiful. That place is likely an even larger casino than Boulder City was in the past, with stakes possibly beyond her wildest imagination. A fine sheen of sweat appeared on Eliza's forehead. Instinctively wanting to help those people, she spoke unconsciously. "Indeed, even thinking back to that day now still brings fear. However, I don't believe I've been divinely protected, nor do I think I'm any kind of miracle." Unaware of her current thoughts, Zaide continued in a tone as if coaxing a child, smiling. "If this isn't a miracle, then what would be?" Without hesitation, Eliza responded. "The residents of Boulder City." Zaide was slightly taken aback. "The residents of Boulder City? Ah... of course, I don't deny their indispensable role. Their courage and ideals are equally impressive—" "It's the residents of Boulder City." Eliza repeated her words, her voice firm and tinged with a hint of longing, or perhaps pleading. "Why do you think I'm a miracle? Clearly, it's the ones seeking light as the night fell, those who countless times reignited the fire of hope without giving up. Every resident you met before finding me is the miracle. Why do you see me as the miracle?" Zaide was bewildered. It wasn't the mismatch between the girl's words and her age that startled him, but rather her inexplicably intense emotion. Why is this... So important? The flattery he spoke was merely to gain her favor, but now it seemed his attempt had once again backfired. What on earth does she want? Zaide couldn't help feeling a bit frustrated, though he kept the irritation from showing on his face. Perhaps sensing his impatience or resistance, Eliza gazed seriously into his eyes, her speech unwittingly quickening. "Mr. Zaide, I must stress again, in the face of a true tide, my life or death is insignificant! Whether I died that night or where my body ended up has no bearing on Boulder City's future. The sun will rise, and set at its appointed time." "I'm not the miracle you imagine. Those who spared me are the real miracle." "They could have let the fire rage, holding a little girl accountable for all mistakes, and stepped over our bodies to enter the inner city. They could have become the new masters of the casino, but they chose to close it down themselves... Every person who walked out of the casino is a miracle." What a naïve notion… No. It was downright foolish. Zaide looked at her coldly, though his genial smile betrayed nothing of the sort. In truth, there was a kernel of truth in her words, at least one statement that caught his attention and surprisingly lit up his mind. If the fire had been left to burn unchecked... Although, many might have perished as a result. "Mr. Zaide?" The concerned voice snapped Zaide back to reality, and he addressed Eliza with a smile. "Yes?" "It's nothing..." There was fear in Eliza's eyes, for a brief moment she had glimpsed something terrifying within his gaze. Swallowing hard, she hurriedly continued. "If what you're asking is how to save the residents of the Province of Boro, perhaps start with publishing a newspaper to give survivors their own voice..." Zaide cleared his throat lightly, interrupting her endless chatter. "I'm truly sorry... Although I'm interested in your theories, the sun is about to set. Perhaps we can discuss this properly next time we meet. By the way, I wonder if it's possible for you to assist me with something." Eliza was taken aback but nodded gently. "What is it?" "I'd like you to introduce me to the Union's Administrator." "The... Administrator?" Eliza stared blankly at him, unable to follow his sudden leap in conversation. Zaide nodded, his eyes fixed on hers with seriousness. "I need his help... or rather, we need it." Facing his intense gaze, Eliza quickly understood his intentions but fell into a silence. Objectively speaking, the Union did indeed alleviate the hardship for Boulder City's survivors, but it was ultimately they who ended their own suffering. Accelerating without knowing what lies at the base of the abyss does not always lead to desirable outcomes. "May I ask you a question?" "Please, go ahead." "When everything is over... when the wasteland era ends, is there anything you want to do?" Worried Zaide might misunderstand again, Eliza quickly added. "I’m not talking about wishes or ambitions, just simple desires. Like horseback riding or painting... any kind of pastime." "Those things are the indulgences of the aristocracy, I won't let them sway me," Zaide chuckled, "I haven't thought so far ahead; my sole focus is to save the residents of the Province of Boro, to spread the light of equality over every inch of the Everflow River’s banks, nothing else." Disappointment flickered in her eyes, and Eliza's lips moved slightly, but in the end, all her words dissolved into a soft sigh. "I once knew a kind old gentleman... He said, after retirement, he wanted to build a small cabin by the lake, plant some flowers, fish—simple pleasures." Zaide: "And he is?" "The designer of Mr. Fang Ming's house..." Suddenly, Eliza raised her head, her gaze steely and resolute, and took a deep breath. "I will absolutely, definitely not introduce you to the Administrator... Please leave!" She refused bluntly. If she was previously undecided, she was now utterly convinced that speaking with him was akin to playing music to a cow—utterly futile. This man, who spoke so glibly of equality, held nothing but contempt for the very concepts he professed. He planned everything meticulously, yet he never planned where he himself would stand in this new world. In the end, he merely sought to be the deity of a new world, swapping out the casino’s sign and continuing business as usual. There won't be another meeting. She refused to exchange another word with him, almost regretting having shared what true miracles were. This man was no comrade! In fact, he might even be an opponent... Should his endeavors succeed, the first thing he'd do is seal every crack of opportunity within that casino. Confronted by her increasingly icy gaze, Zaide did not become angry. Instead, he gave a slight bow of courtesy. "It seems I've caused you displeasure... I'm sorry." Though regrettable, there was no remedy for the situation. The meeting ended on a sour note. With no reason left to linger, Zaide left without a backward glance, taking his young apprentice with him. On the way back, Vasa looked at Mr. Zaide, full of perplexity, and finally voiced his confusion. "I kept saying... we should have approached her with more tact." "The outcome would be the same. If she were the key person, we would eventually meet the Administrator through her. Unfortunately, she isn't, so this path is blocked." Perhaps to rationalize his misjudgment, or perhaps he genuinely believed it, Zaide continued after a pause. "But it's not necessarily a bad thing." "A good thing?" Vasa was thoroughly puzzled. "Yes." Zaide nodded lightly, continuing without concern. "At least through that encounter, I can confirm she maintains correspondence with the Union's Administrator... In whatever form, their views align on certain issues." "We figured out the Administrator’s preferences in just an afternoon; as a trial investment, it’s quite worthwhile." Vasa said, somewhat disheartened. "But she won’t help us..." He was uncertain if he regretted possibly never seeing that beautiful lady again or if he truly lamented the fate of the Brotherhood. Perhaps a bit of both. Zaide smiled faintly. "It doesn't matter. There are plenty of ways to meet that gentleman; the key is what happens after the meeting." Initially, he did intend to win over Eliza as a potential political ally, but once he realized she was essentially still a child, he abandoned the idea. Forming alliances with immature individuals was troublesome; it was better to use her as a touchstone. When he next saw the Union's Administrator, he would carefully avoid all missteps. Just as listening to the opinions of the shelter's residents helped transform the Equality Society into the Brotherhood, he could refine his persona further, saying things that gentleman would appreciate... "What if she mentions us in a letter to the Administrator?" Vasa quietly asked. If it were his family, should there be whispers of discontent, he too would report it to Mr. Zaide without hesitation. He thought the young lady would likely do the same. Zaide’s expression stiffened slightly but soon relaxed. "It’s a possibility... children do like to tattle, but I believe that gentleman won't be swayed by one-sided stories; he'll want to hear both sides." And for someone of humble beginnings like him, what he lacked was connections. "If she really mentions me in her letter to the Administrator, I should probably thank her for the favor." ... At the southernmost point along the Central Continent's main axis lies a port called Evernight Harbor. Situated at the southern corner of the Human Union’s southern industrial district ruins, it faces the Antarctic wasteland across the sea. Because of its remoteness, even the map-obsessed White Bear Knights have never ventured there. In terms of real-world equivalents, this port is roughly at the latitude of South Africa, but slightly more southern. Simultaneously, it is probably the southernmost settlement on the wasteland. When the Legion first set foot on this land, it was winter in the southern hemisphere. The days were short, and nights long. Thus, colonists from Velante named this settlement Evernight Harbor. Unlike the Eastern Legion, which occupies vast plains, the Southern Legion's territory is more fragmented. Aside from a peninsula that comprises their homeland, most of their territory is spread along the coastlines of the western and southern industrial ruins of the great desert. Although these lands are barren and unsuitable for agriculture, they are rich in mineral resources. Due to these factors, the Southern Legion's approach also differs significantly from that of the Eastern Legion. Rather than behaving like military nobles with expansive ranches and estates, they resemble late medieval colonizers. While they exploit other ethnicities without hesitation, they aren't opposed to employing more subtle means when it aligns with their interests. For instance, they might co-opt local rulers to govern on their behalf. They allow slaves to buy their freedom. They even replace contract slaves with debt slaves, among other tactics. After all, they don't have the land resources of the Eastern Legion to squander, so they must put thought into boosting the productivity of their colonies. This approach has brought them into close alliance with Triumph City's bureaucratic faction. Of course, shared operational styles are part of it, but at their core, it’s because their interests are closely intertwined. For example, the Southern Legion's ports are perfectly positioned along the shipping route from the Province of Boro to Triumph City. The bureaucrat fleet doesn't only bring back the spices, tea, and sugar that Triumph City craves; it also transports slaves and livestock needed by Southern Legion colonies. Compared to the nomadic residents and abominations of the desert, the survivors and beasts from the Province of Boro are much more docile and preferred by Southern colonizers. Additionally, these ships, on their return to Triumph City, carry unique product offerings from the colonies, such as various ores, gems, and gold. As a result, Evernight Harbor never lacks ships from the Province of Boro, especially those from Western Sail Port. Recently, however, there was an unexpected occurrence... The wharf at Evernight Harbor was packed with people, a large group of travelers carrying luggage crowded around the ticket counter, raising a loud ruckus. It was the height of summer in Evernight Harbor in December, and the sea breeze brought with it an oppressive heat, turning people's moods into tinder ready to ignite at any moment. A Velantean traveler finally squeezed to the front of the counter, slamming a fist clutching his ticket onto the surface, almost pressing his nose against the narrow window. "The ship? I bought a ticket to Triumph City! Where is the ship?" "Please calm down, sir. Let me see which departure you booked... I can assist you with a refund." The staff member reached for the ticket, but the traveler snatched it back with a glare at the person behind the window. "I never said anything about a refund! I want to go home!" The staff gave a pained smile, helplessly replying. "I understand... but there’s nothing I can do. If your scheduled ship is absent from the harbor, it's likely a breach of contract. We'll compensate you for your ticket per the agreement—" "What do you mean 'likely a breach'? It’s the end of the year! I only return to Triumph City once a year! Damn it, why does it have to be before Christmas?" Sweat beaded on the staff member's forehead as he tried to soothe the traveler and those behind him. "Please, please, calm down... I understand your feelings, sir, but there's nothing we can do. It was the carrier that canceled the trips—apparently to pick up a batch of munitions from the east—" The traveler clearly wasn't convinced and rudely interrupted his explanation. "I booked a passenger ferry! A passenger ferry! Do you think I'm an idiot?" The staff member sighed in resignation. "I know... but apparently those people offered too much money. You're relatively lucky. Yesterday, there was a boat about to dock, and as soon as they heard the news from Western Sail Port, they turned tail and left, abandoning passengers ashore." Velantean traveler: "???" Among the crowd, Penny caught wind of the argument ahead, her expression bewildered. She had journeyed from Western Sail Port a week ago, planning to switch to a connecting ship today to return to Triumph City, only to hear such dire news. When she finally reached the front of the line, she looked down at her ticket, muttering in disbelief. "...The ships are all gone?" The staff member sitting behind the window looked at her, his frazzled expression suggesting this wasn't the first time he'd answered this question. "They’ve been gone since yesterday... You're somewhat lucky, miss. I've heard of people who were boarded only to be chased off." Penny laughed incredulously. "So how do I get home?" The staff member wore a similarly awkward expression. "I don't know... uh, but in my experience, it should only be a two-day wait. Not all vessels will continue eastward; some will turn back at Evernight Harbor. There are also cargo ships that, for the right price, won't mind doubling as passenger ferries. We'll keep an eye out for any news that might help you." "..." Penny now regretted only one thing—refusing the Governor Hoye's generous offer to sail directly to Triumph City on a returning ship, opting instead to switch vessels at Evernight Harbor. In the end, after just three days of leisure, she found herself stranded. "What on earth happened?" she asked, worried. The staff member sighed. "We don't have confirmed details, but it seems to be the work of Chief Barnetoft. He struck some obscure deal with the Eastern Legion, causing every vessel on this route to head east, all eager to make money." It wasn't only about equipping the expeditionary forces; some even fantasized about picking up "trash" left by the academy, corporations, or the Union—though the staff thought they were dreaming. With so many rushing over, earning profits would remain uncertain. Penny was dumbfounded. Her father, an ambassador in Dawn City, indirectly became the reason she couldn't return home. How ironic... Observing her expression of helpless despair, the staff member offered a well-intentioned tip. "Things being as they are, steps must be taken to adapt. I'd recommend booking a room at a port-side inn immediately... By nightfall, even money won't guarantee lodging. My uncle runs an inn near the port, would you like me to contact him for you?" Penny shook her head. "…No need, I have a place to stay." Her uncle, an officer in the Southern Legion holding a rank like Mr. Armadillo's, served as the defense officer at Evernight Harbor. She’d been staying with him; she could only impose a little longer. However, to ease her mother’s worries back in Triumph City, she planned to head to the post office and send a telegram. The staff sighed and sincerely apologized. "I see... In any case, I'm terribly sorry. I hope you understand." Did she really have a choice? Penny gave him a resigned look, thanked him, then gathered her luggage and left the ticket office. She hailed a tricycle, asking the driver to take her to the post office. Before long, the marble building came into view. Handing over a shiny dinar, Penny climbed the post office steps with her luggage in tow. Yet as she pushed through the door, urgent voices sailed past her ear. "Is there a ship! I need to get to the east as soon as possible!" "A ship to the east? Are you dreaming? There's not a single ship left at this port!" "Damn it! Why did this have to happen now!" Penny turned her head, catching sight of a middle-aged man wearing a felt hat slam his fist against the marble column beside the door. His companion appeared shocked, rushing to question him. "What happened?" The man wore a grim expression, his voice low and hoarse. Despite his efforts to keep quiet, Penny still managed to catch a phrase— "Western Sail Port! Something big has happened there!" To be continued...