Chapter 916 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 916: The Civilian Officials' Gesture of Gratitude At the port of Settlement One, the weary Wilanders, after two weeks at sea, finally stepped onto solid ground. Most local survivors, except for a few extreme conservative Bororans still protesting the Wilander Street project, welcomed this group of distant and hapless people. Even those who were previously indifferent to them had a change of heart. In a twisted sense, this was thanks to those emotionally charged Bororans. Their unreasonable antics and refusal to listen to reason had the opposite effect in the public sphere. While this did unify them in their fervor, it also made others resent them even more. In the Alliance, any reasonable or unreasonable request can be made, but adding a threat like, "If you don't listen to me, I'll throw a tantrum," or "You're doomed if you don't heed me," is not what anyone will yield to. To spite these overgrown babies, some conservatives deliberately put up banners welcoming the Wilanders, whom the former had no interest in. Don't like it? Then go back to your Bororan province! We’re fed up with you too! If the Bororan method is so effective, then surely the folks in Bororan province are well-fed. Of course, it's important to note that the royalist babies don't represent all Bororans. There are still some who have integrated into the Alliance. Perhaps in an effort to mend ties or out of genuine regret, some Bororans stood at the port, despite being glared at by their peers, to welcome the oppressed Wilanders. Among the most supportive were the Moonfolk, led in part by Su Ka, a figure known for his radical views. From the very start, Su Ka had been attempting to de-escalate the entire situation and redeem the reputation of the Bororans. Even after proposing the controversial "Immigration Bureau Act," which led other Bororans to label him as a "traitor," he continued his efforts… even if it left him in a proverbial no-man’s land. It's difficult to say if these efforts had any true impact. But in one area, he was similar to Jeremy, the figure who led the roadblocks. Both had moved themselves emotionally. The difference lay in that Jeremy was unaware of his own sentiments and thus pursued them unwaveringly. Meanwhile, Su Ka understood that his efforts were likely in vain, yet persisted regardless. On the docks, Su Ka grasped Ayman's right hand, offering a weary yet genuine smile. "Congratulations, from now on we walk the same path as comrades." "Thank you for accepting us, and we're truly sorry… for the inconvenience we have caused." Ayman spoke with sincerity and a hint of apology, seeing the complex expression on Su Ka’s face. Over the past two weeks, the Hank Group had procured 3,000 mobile homes from Fries City, intended as temporary homes for over 5,000 immigrants on the ship. Finally, these immigrants from Evernight Port didn’t have to commute from the ship to work on land each day and back to sleep each night. They found a place to shelter, even onshore. These mobile homes were once aid materials sent to Fries City from the Alliance to assist the displaced residents of the Southern Seas Alliance. With the civil war in the southern seas ending, and as islanders returned home or settled in Fries City, the need for these mobile homes diminished. Thanks to Gu Ning's help, the Hank Group acquired these second-hand materials from Fries City's municipal office at an almost giveaway price. In exchange, once Wilander Street is constructed, Hank Group promised to donate the mobile homes to the local authorities of Settlement One, aiding more survivors from the Western World or Eastern Provinces. "It’s hardly been an issue, and compared to other immigrants, yours was the least troubling." Su Ka chuckled awkwardly, sighing, "Honestly, I feel ashamed. I know our hardships haven't been your fault, but rather some flaw within us… yet admitting it is hard." "If it’s any consolation, we’re hardly different, having been stagnant for two centuries ourselves," Ayman replied, offering a reassuring smile. "But I believe things will get better, for both of us." "Let’s hope so," Su Ka said, wrapping up the conversation which held no concrete answers. It was tough for him to decide whether to be optimistic or pessimistic. Perhaps had General Rowell never achieved that monumental feat, things might have been different. Perhaps a different fate awaited. ... After parting ways with Su Ka, Ayman headed to the ship to fetch his wife and child. He could have settled ashore, but his wife insisted on enduring together with their compatriots on the ship. They couldn’t abandon their fellow Wilanders, they had to show unity. Little Ruby also sided with her mother on this. After thinking for some time, Ayman agreed with the women of his family. After all, the ship felt like home to him, stepping ashore made little difference. With his wife and child settled, Ayman went near the passenger terminal where he saw his business partner Zhang Ze waiting by the railing. Seeing Ayman approaching, Zhang Ze let out a breath of relief, arms open in welcome. "I must congratulate you… and thank goodness, our passengers are finally disembarked." Hanger Wall Labor Agency’s main ventures revolved around Ayman's fleet. Across the Death Coast, only his ships had access in and out of Sail Port, purchasing serfs at the most affordable prices from local farm owners. Ayman laughed, embracing Zhang Ze, and patted his shoulder. "Thank you." Zhang Ze rolled his eyes and cheekily pushed his shoulder back. "Thank me for what? It’s your ship, I wouldn't rush you to offload your own people? But, should we kick off the next trip soon? I have a gut feeling this venture might be nearing its end, we’d best hurry." Ayman looked at him quizzically. "Did you hear something?" Zhang Ze let out a bittersweet chuckle. "Hear something? My friend, haven’t you read the papers? The tide of public opinion has completely shifted, I'm concerned that if things continue, the Alliance might stop us from sending Bororans to the Death Coast directly." It would be easy enough to implement. The council merely needs to pass legislation prohibiting Alliance-registered companies from providing financial services to survivors who never entered the Alliance. If they couldn't help those serfs finance their freedom, or if such debts were unacknowledged, the business would become instantly unprofitable. At that point, continuing would purely be charity. After all, Bororans couldn't save up enough to leave the Death Coast just by moving crates in Sail Port. It would limit them to doing business with the wealthy or shrink their operations to Mammoth City and Gold Gallon Port. Ayman’s expression grew concerned. "This is indeed challenging..." Zhang Ze shrugged. "I heard you know someone in the council, you should talk to that Mr. Gu… see if there's a compromise possible." "I'll chat with him, though if he's made up his mind, my words may mean little." That individual is, after all, a representative of the Alliance, with actions indicating the priority of Alliance citizens' interests. Given the current sway of conservative opinion in the Alliance, chances are slim. The only solace is that the Alliance’s conservatives likely won't spend much time debating these minute issues, with all focus probably on the immigration bureau’s frameworks. That is their core interest, and the primary trigger point for radical nerves. Ayman assured Zhang Ze he would attempt contact with the Alliance representative and that they should prepare for the next voyage promptly. After bidding Zhang Ze farewell, as Ayman was about to depart the port, a Wilander suddenly stopped him. "Hello, are you Mr. Ayman?" Hearing his name called, Ayman paused to look at the person. The individual wore humble casual attire yet had a courteous demeanor not typical of common folk, suggesting good education and considerable stature. Ayman was certain he didn’t know the man, so he hesitantly asked, “Sorry, may I know who you are…” The man smiled politely and introduced himself. “The one who should apologize is me for coming unannounced. Please allow me to introduce myself briefly. I’m Greg, a merchant doing business around Dawnlight City, and the president of the Wilander Overseas Compatriots Aid Association.” A slight frown creased Ayman’s face. “The Wilander Overseas Compatriots Aid Association?” It was the first he had heard of such an organization. Greg nodded with a smile, explaining, “Simply put, it’s a grassroots organization where Wilanders outside of Legion-controlled areas help one another. We aim to provide convenient information and assistance within the bounds of local laws… Could I borrow a moment of your time to discuss a few matters?” Hearing Greg’s explanation, Ayman relaxed his guard slightly. However, he couldn’t help but detect a trace of a southern accent in Greg’s speech. This guy was from Avent City! There was no mistaking it. Having traveled the wastelands extensively, Ayman’s instincts kicked in, restoring his wariness. “...Hold on, did you say you’re a grassroots organization helping Wilanders?” Greg nodded once more with a smile. “Exactly. Should you encounter any trouble, feel free to reach out to us—” “I don’t need your help, but I do have a question: where were you two weeks ago when Wilanders needed you most?” Ayman fixed his gaze on Greg’s eyes, searching for any deceit. “Where were you?” Greg appeared awkward under Ayman’s accusatory tone, coughing lightly before responding, “Well… I’m truly sorry. I only recently learned about your situation and came as soon as I heard you needed help, even though it seems I'm late.” Ayman maintained a stoic expression, though inwardly he scoffed. The situation had been fermenting for at least half a month, and it wouldn’t have taken so long to travel from Dawnlight City. However, curious about why this association had targeted him, Ayman asked, “What is it you want with me?” Seeing Ayman’s obvious distrust, Greg couldn’t help but chuckle begrudgingly, “Please don’t be so tense. We noticed your influence among the people and would like to invite you to join our organization…” As he spoke, Greg pulled a business card from his pocket, handing it to Ayman. “This is my card; please keep it. Given the significant Wilander population in Settlement One, we're considering establishing a branch there. We unanimously believe that someone like you, who consistently advocates for Wilander interests, would be the ideal choice for branch leader.” “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Ayman replied, accepting the card and slipping it into his pocket. “I'll be setting sail soon and won't be staying here long-term. You’d be better off choosing someone else.” “Understandable. Many in the association also have their own businesses,” Greg nodded, smiling. “Nonetheless, consider our offer. We always take care of our own, as long as you’re willing to become one of us.” “There’s my number on the card; if you change your mind, please contact me.” After leaving those cryptic words, Greg nodded slightly and quickly turned to leave. Their conversation barely lasted a minute, and Greg hadn’t even extended the courtesy of a meal invitation, arriving and departing in haste. Ayman shook his head, amused, letting the matter drop. His instincts told him trouble might be lurking behind this, but he truly didn't want to get involved. Yet, before taking even a couple of steps, he ran into another unfamiliar face. The man had an ordinary appearance but was quite robust, his sea-blue shirt straining against his build. Unlike the previous Greg, this man appeared to be a laborer. Not that Ayman held any disrespect for manual laborers, but he had dealt with enough new faces for one day. Seeing the man approach him directly, Ayman gave a bitter smile and said, “Alright, who are you and what brings you to me? Let’s get straight to the point...” The man didn’t mince words. He pulled a small booklet from his jacket, emblazoned with the Alliance’s emblem and another Ayman couldn’t recognize. What the man said next left Ayman frozen on the spot. “With the Guardian Corps.” “There’s a case we need you to assist with.” … Time slipped by unnoticed, reaching late September. Chu Guang, who had been staying at Guardian City for nearly two weeks, resumed his journey. This time, he opted not for the train but instead chose to switch his mode of transport to the “Viper” transporter, produced by Boulder Armaments. He also adjusted his itinerary, making Settlement Ten, located at the northeastern tip of the Ocean’s Edge Province, the first stop instead of Settlement One, leaving the latter as the final destination. There were reasons for these choices. One, he wished to avoid getting embroiled in the public opinion storm at Settlement One; but there were other catalysts as well. Just two days ago, the Guardian Corps received intel suggesting that the Southern Legion was plotting against him personally. This was not surprising, given that most gamblers, when backed into a corner, tend to rely on unconventional strategies, betting their entire stake on a “wild card.” While the Southern Legion hadn’t yet reached complete desperation, the possibility of victory for them was visibly dwindling. They had limited options at this juncture, and assassination of high-level figures promised the best returns. Executing such a plan wouldn’t be difficult. Though the Alliance had impressed many, it had also made numerous enemies. Particularly after the launch of the “shock therapy” in the Eastern Provinces, countless raider factions wished to see the Alliance eradicated. Despite the Southern Legion’s weak standing in Alliance territory, it wasn’t entirely ineffective. They didn’t need to act themselves; funding certain raider groups was sufficient to have those harboring grudges against the Alliance attempt something. According to intelligence gathered by the Guardian Corps, an organization named the “Wilander Overseas Compatriots Aid Association” had recently come under their radar. Founded by Greg, a traveling merchant from the East Legion who entered the Alliance via the Great Wasteland trade route, the organization later expanded his network in the Dawnlight City area, aligning with several tradesmen from the Eastern Legion as members. The Alliance generally encouraged grassroots organizations, yet remained diligent in regulatory oversight within legal frameworks. Upon investigating this Wilander organization, the Guardian Corps uncovered several irregularities. For instance, over 90% of Greg’s company profits in Dawnlight City stemmed from maritime activities, despite his role as a land merchant from the East Legion. Furthermore, trade department inquiries exposed numerous fabricated orders. A merchant from the East Legion accumulating substantial unexplained wealth in an unfamiliar sector might as well have had “spy” written on his forehead. In intelligence work, ethnically homogenous survivor factions indeed boast certain advantages; thus far, the Alliance had only infiltrated the Legion with the “Pangolin” operative. Nevertheless, the Guardian Corps isn't to be underestimated. After reporting this to Chu Guang, the Guardian Corps refrained from alarming the enemy prematurely. Every indicator suggested the aid association was likely a front, with Greg merely a decoy masking larger prey—the Southern Legion’s intelligence network within the Alliance. Given this backdrop, Chu Guang devised a strategy, deploying a team from the Storm Corps to the Death Coast as a contingency. It seemed more prudent to lure and capture the villains in one sweep than to remain on perpetual alert. Consequently, he scheduled a visit to Settlement Ten, which had the smallest population and weakest defenses, as his next stop. Considering the recent “D97 Train Brake Incident,” this plan appeared seamless and was unlikely to rouse suspicion from lurking adversaries. The evening before leaving Guardian City, Chu Guang hosted a dinner with Li Jinrong, the commander of the Southern Construction Corps, and other key figures, jesting that thanks to their efforts, the area had become a delightful place where once arrived, one wouldn’t want to leave. Unexpectedly for Chu Guang, the next day he saw the exact words he had spoken displayed on the outer wall of a landmark building in Guardian City’s center. “That guy,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat, ready for a short nap. Just then, a soft blue holographic window popped up in front of him, accompanied by the melodious voice of Xiao Qi. “Master, there’s a call from the Legion’s embassy. Would you like me to put it through?” Chu Guang initially considered directing the call to Cheng Yan, but then recalled that Bannert had previously communicated through diplomatic channels; this time he called directly, suggesting something urgent. Thinking of this, he decided to take the call himself and told Xiao Qi, “Connect it.” “Got it!” With enthusiasm, Xiao Qi vanished from the holographic screen. As the progress bar completed, Bannert’s face appeared on the screen. Seeing Chu Guang through the lens, Bannert exhaled dramatically. “Thank goodness, it’s not easy getting in touch with you. Finally, we connected.” Amused by Bannert’s exaggerated expression, Chu Guang smiled and said, “Meeting me or Cheng Yan is essentially the same. I’ve delegated most Alliance foreign affairs to him, so contacting me doesn’t change much.” With a slight laugh, Bannert countered, “Not necessarily.” Chu Guang chuckled and said, “Let’s skip the suspense. The signal here isn’t great, so if you have something to say, get straight to the point.” Bannert got serious. “You aren't in Dawnlight City right now, are you? Best be cautious about your personal safety.” “My personal safety?” Chu Guang was momentarily taken aback, then smiled, “I'm surprised my safety is of concern to the legion’s envoy. Have you heard something?” Even as Chu Guang made light of the situation, Bannert’s voice turned earnest. “I’m not joking. I’m aware you have plenty of bodyguards, but those after you are formidable. Let’s just say they belong to the Southern Legion’s Army Intelligence Bureau. Whether they act themselves or hire others, they’ve begun their efforts.” Chu Guang’s eyebrows arched with intrigue. “Is this intelligence from Triumph City?” Bannert, speaking with a hint of discretion, said, “Consider it so. You could see it as the civil officials’ token of goodwill or simply that your demise doesn’t align with our interests.” Chu Guang sensed genuine concern from Bannert, even though a year ago, this man would’ve happily seen him drop dead. It was clear that the control Triumph City had over the Southern Legion had weakened drastically, to the point where they needed their opponents to help maintain some internal balance. “Death is still a bit premature for me,” Chu Guang replied, smiling faintly at Bannert’s serious demeanor. “But thanks for the heads-up; I’ll be vigilant.” Though the intel wasn’t new to him, the information it implied was valuable. The Legion was on the brink of disintegration, waiting for one final catalyst. After the call ended, Chu Guang turned to Lü Bei, who sat armored opposite him, and spoke gently, “Looks like this trip won’t be dull. Even Triumph City is warning us that danger is closing in.” Lü Bei hesitated for a moment before speaking, “...Honorable Administrator, I’d recommend more caution. It might be wiser to wait in a safe location until we’ve dealt with these issues before continuing your itinerary.” He’d rather suggest that Chu Guang return to the shelter or at least stay near the nearest one here. Yet he knew well enough that even if he said so, the respected Administrator wouldn’t heed the advice. As expected, after hearing this counsel, Chu Guang merely laughed. “That wouldn’t do.” “Now that we’re here, I need to stay active, or I’ll start feeling rusty.” Recently, he’d advanced beyond level 70, entering the eighth stage in his genetic sequence. He intended to show these restless vermin how foolish it was to target him. To be continued…