Chapter 908 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 908: Opportunity Always Favors the Prepared When it comes to success, some people lack ability, while others merely lack opportunity. Take, for instance, Henk from the New Continent. He belongs to the latter group. From his dealings in selling "fake liquor" and smuggling arms, it’s clear he was never one to sit idly by. And indeed, that’s the truth. Since setting foot in Settlement One, he has been studying the rules of the Alliance—even when working on the docks, his mind was never at rest. However, his interest in the Alliance’s rules wasn’t about finding loopholes for quick riches, but rather to minimize risks and identify exploitable policy resources. The greatest lesson he learned from his previous ventures was that speculative businesses couldn’t last. He might win multiple times, but losing just once could ruin him entirely. But this time would be different. He discovered a legal and profitable "earning model." With Henk’s persuasion, Filly established the first investment bank registered in Settlement One—Filly Bank. With piles of dinars as collateral, the loans he couldn’t secure before were easily processed by Mr. Filly, this time netting a whopping 22 million silver coins! Counting the 8 million silver coins Filly already possessed, Henk now held a 30 million silver coin stake. Placing all his chips on one bet, in a sense, this was indeed a high-stakes gamble. Standing on the dock next to the cargo ship, Filly watched the bank employees hauling boxes with mixed feelings etched on his face. This was his life's savings. He meant to deposit it in the bank, but now it felt like he was being coaxed into a risky investment by the bank teller. Although it wasn’t just about finances—it was for a new home for him and his countrymen—he couldn’t help feeling the pinch. "... There are only a hundred thousand people in Settlement One. By the Marshal… I really don’t know how we'll recover these 30 million silver coins." Seeing the anxious investor, Henk patted him on the shoulder and offered enthusiastic reassurance. “A hundred thousand is only today's figure. Two years ago, there wasn’t a single person here. Just a few days ago, five thousand people landed on the docks in one day… I bet this will become common. We need to look at the future, just like Mr. Gu does.” To Henk, that representative Gu Ning was already considering the potential influx of people, which explained his willingness to assist them. "A future perspective…" Filly mused, then couldn't help sardonically noting, "I saw your proposal. The first phase planned only 4 buildings with a total of 800 apartments, which uses up 80% of your funds. Where will you find the money for subsequent phases?" "Find money? My friend, once our first phase is complete, we won’t need to find money; money will find us." Henk draped an arm over his shoulder, smiling confidently. “I've calculated it—a single apartment costs around 40,000 silver coins to build, with a standard type of 80 square meters. As for the selling price, we can easily ask 100,000 silver coins.” “A hundred thousand?!” Filly exclaimed incredulously, wide-eyed. “What are you thinking? Who would pay so much for a concrete box?!” One hundred thousand silver coins equated to four or five hundred thousand dinars, roughly the same amount you'd need to mortgage dinars at a bank. In Evernight Port, this sum would buy a house in a prime location—where population numbers far outweighed those here. Noting Filly’s expression, Henk explained patiently. “You can’t judge the Alliance by Evernight Port’s standards. Be honest—are the non-humans there really people? You might have tens of thousands of them, but at least ninety percent are beasts, and that’s a conservative estimate.” As for the soldiers, they lived in barracks and couldn’t be counted as colonial population. After Henk’s explanation, Filly hesitated, reconsidering the situation. His jewelry business thrived, but he could count his regular customers on both hands. Non-humans didn’t frequent his shop and certainly didn’t purchase property. In Blackwater Alley, where they lived, there weren't even proper addresses. Seeing Filly’s understanding dawn, Henk patiently continued. “You have no idea of the purchasing power of Alliance residents. Working a month on the docks, 2,000 silver coins is easy to earn without slacking.” “2,000 silver coins… It would take over four years of saving without spending a penny to reach 100,000. Even if I acknowledge the spending capacity of ordinary Alliance citizens, that's longer than this settlement’s existence.” Though Filly no longer doubted the Alliance's average person’s purchasing power, he couldn’t help but click his tongue at the math. The settlement was less than two years old, after all. Watching Filly apply his pawnshop mindset, Henk shook his head with a smile. “You’re overlooking something. Just as we can, Alliance residents can also secure bank loans—easier and cheaper for them.” Filly: "… How cheap?" “One percent interest, practically a giveaway, isn’t it?” Seeing Filly’s astonishment, Henk wagged a finger and continued. “They can easily borrow ten times their annual income with a repayment period of over 20 years—provided they earn over 1,000 silver coins monthly, have Alliance citizenship, and the loan is for personal housing. The collateral is non-existent, or you could say it's their prospective home itself.” “From my New Continent experience, spending less than a third of monthly income on housing is reasonable. Besides, Alliance’s affordable rentals aren’t free. But now, with just a third or even less of their income, they can move into more spacious, refined housing with independent kitchens, bathrooms, and toilets… And crucially, the house is theirs to keep." "If their monthly income exceeds 1,000 silver coins and they've gained Alliance citizenship… every one of them is a potential client.” Not only Alliance citizens, but even regulated individuals could acquire loans at slightly higher interest rates. On acquiring citizenship, they could easily refinance. Previously paid amounts wouldn’t be refunded but would count against the total loan and interest. In some ways, it was an economic stimulus effort and a welfare benefit for Alliance citizens. Compared to the Alliance’s growth rate, these low-interest loans seemed like gifts. Despite this, Filly still felt uneasy, eventually asking, "... But why would they choose your housing?" Henk smiled. “Scarcity. The Alliance might build those corn-shaped apartments, but equality doesn’t mean average—no one wants to live in that kind of environment forever, sharing a toilet with neighbors. It’s human nature to seek a better life. What we offer… is far more significant than wasting money on alcohol, wouldn’t you agree?" “It sounds perfect…” Filly muttered, eyes brightening. “It truly isn’t bad,” Henk chuckled, patting Filly on the shoulder. “Once the first phase completes, our game begins… As for the second phase, I haven’t decided yet, but we'll set the price at 120,000 silver coins.” Filly exclaimed, astonished, “A 20% increase? Will anyone buy?” Henk smirked. “They’ll sell out.” ... Henk certainly possessed acute insight. From the start, his target clientele weren’t just the survivors of Settlement One but those along the Death Coast and even the Eastern Provinces. If the Alliance’s space elevator were completed, the land beneath their feet would become the “land-based settlement” closest to space—a truly scarce resource. Although the South Sea Alliance is geographically closer, the small and scattered nature of those islands cannot compete with Henk’s ambitions. Moreover, and this might sound blasphemous, if the Southern Legion loses the war in the Barlow Province, those gamblers might lose more than just Seafan Port. The whole southern colonial region could be swept up in a wave of national liberation movements. Looking back at the tragedies that occurred in Seafan Port, it's clear that the Welanders living in the colonies wouldn’t be able to remain. By then, they realistically have only three options— They could return to Triumphant City, venture to the New Continent, or find refuge in Alliance territory. The newcomers bring not only their labor but also the knowledge and wealth they possess. Henk's true ambition is much grander than what he openly declares. He not only aims to make Welander Street in Settlement One the most prosperous on the coastline but also to capitalize on Settlement One's historic opportunity to establish the Henk Group as a revered name! He envisions that whenever people mention his name, it would evoke thoughts of excellence. The skyscrapers he builds would become synonymous with quality and the good life. Looking even further ahead, the inhabitants of this planet would come to see Welanders in a new light— They wouldn’t just be the warfare-obsessed with artillery-minded brains, but also skilled engineers and imaginative artists! With the completion of Filly Bank's financing, construction teams from the South Sea Alliance's North Island began appearing at the construction site. The building materials used came not only from Fry Harbor but also from Guard City in the north. The construction workers included local Settlement One laborers, external workers from Mammoth Country employed by North Island's building companies, and some freshly disembarked Welander lads. When it comes to solidarity, the Welanders are quite exemplified. Even though Henk has the "worst reputation" as a New Continent native, Filly still lent him money. For these refugee compatriots, Henk offered the greatest possible assistance within his means—even if he is deemed the "slyest Welander." In stark contrast, the Barlowans' spirit seemed fragmented. Those who were generous went all out, neglecting their own needs, while those who were cunning were extraordinarily shrewd, possessing an eye indifferent to others. Apart from the once-alienated Moon tribes who showed some solidarity, internal conflicts amongst Barlow Province survivors, even within the same race, were common. Sometimes, these disputes were not even based on personal interests but merely out of spite at seeing others succeed. Sometimes it was begrudging the Welanders; other times it was seeing fellow Rat tribe members prosper. This created a peculiar situation. During representative elections, they adamantly opposed tribal narratives, appearing progressive, refusing to vote for their compatriots. Conversely, Barlowans who earned other tribes' trust to become representatives distanced themselves artistically from their origins, proposed measures not favoring Barlowans, and even changed their names. Since the Alliance ID has no ethnicity column, everyone is an Alliance citizen. By changing the surname that signaled origin, half the branding would vanquish—only fellow Barlowans could recognize those who've struggled similarly. Yet, when someone from their community succeeded but didn’t advocate on their behalf, they reverted to cultural conservatism and tribal narratives, latching onto that similar-marked person with vicious curses and stringent moral standards. The outcome was clear. Apart from true altruists and outright frauds, no one appreciated such behavior. When a lose-lose situation arises, it often stems from a systemic imbalance rather than an individual's or decision's singular error. Such systemic issues aren't easily reversed by a mere war or two. Regrettably, those resonant cries were scarce on the wasteland, at least among the Welanders. They had not birthed a "Mr. Rat" or any successive talents to spearhead change. However, their awakening was jolted by a sea disaster, whereas for Evernight Port’s residents, it was a fellow named Konde who awakened them. They moved on without hesitation, leaving the past behind. Yet in Barlow Province, it took near extermination for the Moon tribe to wake up. Even as some set foot on Alliance soil, they still wandered in slumber… As construction teams commissioned by the Henk Group commenced work, words painted in white on green backgrounds appeared on the iron walls encircling the site. These were personally painted by Henk. Standing by the roadside, he tossed the brush into the paint bucket, wearing a satisfied smile. With the flair of a bard, he read aloud: "... Welander Street is a street embodying the Welander spirit, not just for Welanders." "We, dedicated to ending the Wasteland Age, welcome everyone, whether distant compatriots or local friends." “Splendid... Let’s hope the ‘Survivor’s Daily’ honors us with a headline.” ... At the very moment the Welander Street project broke ground, a man sat troubled in the office of a usual committee member. His name was Wu Jingshan, once a resident of Boulder City, previously a company commander for the Southern Construction Corps, he later came here as a pioneer with residents of Vault 404, becoming one of Settlement One’s earliest inhabitants. Simultaneously, he became one of the earliest local representatives, later elevated by peers to a usual committee member. A usual committee member, still a representative, holds a unique role akin to a "meeting chairperson." Since the Alliance lacks clear political factions, or because the managers and Vault residents are the largest faction, "usual committee members" are typically considered intermediaries by both conservatives and radicals. Simply put, neither faction can fully trust an ally, so they choose a "mediator." Wu Jingshan is Settlement One’s "mediator." When factional debates intensify, he steps in to negotiate compromise, ensuring winners don’t overextend and losers retain dignity. The conservatives achieved an overwhelming victory in the “Welander Street Proposal” following the Barlowan siege on City Hall. Truthfully, he was reluctant to intervene in relatively non-controversial issues, though he voted against. However, yesterday a representative named Suka approached him, disclosing that many Barlowans were dissatisfied with the representative assembly's decision, feeling unrepresented, and plotting something larger. Unclear if Suka approached him out of Barlowan solidarity or radical intentions, Wu Jingshan couldn’t ignore the warning. After all, this was the wasteland, unpredictable in what “big things” might entail. Thus, he reported it to the Guards Corps and local Police Department and approached Gu Ning, the proposal initiator, hoping he’d present an amendment calming radical, or Barlowan, sentiments. As the proposer, Gu Ning was the one most capable of achieving this. Yet, after hearing the mediator’s request, Gu Ning merely sighed, setting his teacup down. “Truthfully, I’m surprised. My proposal passed with 80% approval, leaving the remaining 20% opposition with barely half. I’d describe it as ‘uncontentious,’ yet here you are.” Wu Jingshan sighed. “I’m merely seeking your input, not compelling you to change your stance…” Gu Ning chuckled. “I guess it was Suka who nudged you to persuade me.” Honestly, he somewhat disdains certain radicals in Settlement One. Though the Workers Union was mostly radicals, they dared venture to Barlow Province in solidarity, funding themselves through voluntary worker donations, never touching Alliance finances. Take, for instance, Eugen. At the second gunshot in Seafan Port, he was on the front lines alongside that family association or whatever. Even though he was ultimately sent back by the Southern Legion, the fact that he was able to put his ideals into practice to that extent showed his mettle. As for those so-called radicals around him, they were only skilled at spending money and reciting mantras. The spirit of daring to lead, he hadn't observed in them. Those individuals seemed to treat the Barlowans like fragile pets, interpreting "solidarity" as a term for preferential treatment. This fundamentally contradicts the Alliance's principles of equality. What's even more disgraceful is their complete disregard for shifting public sentiment and the residents' growing discontent with demands for special treatment. Before these fools, along with the Barlowans, manage to tarnish the concept of "solidarity," Gu Ning felt compelled to take action. In Gu Ning’s view, the best approach was to set a proper example for these feeble radicals, demonstrating what true solidarity looked like. Seeing Gu Ning remain steadfast, Wu Jingshan sighed. “Regardless of who brought me here, I personally think that Welander Street isn't a good idea.” Gu Ning replied with a nonchalant smile. “They're spending their own money; whether it's a good idea or not will be determined once it's built. And smoking pollutes the air, yet I see you haven’t cut back.” Wu Jingshan stared at him. “Does this mean you're endorsing them?” “I never said that. I’m merely exercising my constitutional rights and doing what I believe is right,” Gu Ning replied, leaving no room for ambiguity. After a moment of silence, Wu Jingshan sighed. “You know the administrator is coming soon, right?” Gu Ning calmly responded, “The whole settlement knows.” Wu Jingshan continued, “Then you should realize that our issues with the Legion are significant. If the administrator disapproves of this project, it will certainly fall through, which wouldn’t be good for the Welanders either.” Gu Ning succinctly replied, “If you think the administrator will have objections, it’s only because you don’t understand him.” Wu Jingshan retorted, “What makes you think you understand him?” Gu Ning gave a faint smile. “I won’t claim I do, but I can say for certain that his support for the Barlow Province is not out of a soft spot for the Barlowans, but for the Alliance's interest, which fundamentally differs from those bleeding hearts.” Unable to hold back, Wu Jingshan said, “Have you considered another possibility?” Noticing his hesitation, Gu Ning raised an eyebrow. “What possibility?” Wu Jingshan looked at him for a moment, then suddenly blurted out, “What if the Barlowans kneel before him?” He didn’t know why this thought emerged. Moments ago, he was worried about Barlowans potentially bombing their meeting site. Perhaps subconsciously, he saw this as something they might do. Gu Ning looked at the usual committee member in surprise, unsure whether he was startled by the thought itself or by Wu Jingshan considering such a scenario. Sitting up straight, Gu Ning’s gaze locked onto him. "...Do you want to know what I think?" Uncertain of the guy's thoughts, Wu Jingshan hesitated. “...What do you think?” Suddenly, Gu Ning leaned back into his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “Nothing could be better.” To be continued.