Chapter 681.1: The Empire’s Anger |
At the same time the Roro Boat, carrying more than a thousand Moonfolk survivors, arrived at French Fry Harbor, the Bull and Horse Group’s airship also returned to Dawn City with the survivors of Shelter 70.
Because of the newly opened flight routes, the hydrogen-refueling station for airships had practically become a full-fledged port.
The Bull and Horse Group had contracted a portion of the berths for renovation. A market management committee had even been voluntarily formed among the merchants near the warehouse district who specialized in imported goods, they raised funds to repair the roads and kept the area clean and orderly.
Stepping off the lift, Huang Guangwei stared blankly at his surroundings, stunned by the prosperity and liveliness before him. Before coming, that man named Ample Time had told him Dawn City was only a settlement of 100,000 people. He had imagined it to be similar to Ring Island or North Island, just located inland instead of on the coast.
Yet seeing it with his own eyes, its prosperity left his jaw hanging.
How can this be a settlement of only 100,000?
Even if someone claimed there were two or three times that, he would have believed it! As he walked down the steps, dazed and unsure where to go, a familiar face suddenly appeared in the crowd not far away. That man wore a loose leather jacket and jeans, his figure slightly chubby, smile lines creasing warmly as he spread his arms wide.
Huang Guangwei stared at him, eyes misting over. His dry lips trembled.
“Administrator…!”
Huang Guangwei never imagined he would run into him here!
Taking an unconscious step forward, Huang Guangwei suddenly found his direction. His stiff legs shuffled at first, then moved faster, firmer, more determined with each step.
Seeing his fellow resident in such a pitiful state, Sun Yuechi felt a wave of guilt. His expression remained enthusiastic, but the smile on his face began to stiffen as his eyes lowered along with his outstretched arms. “Huang– Ahem, my dear friend, I heard what happened to you. During the time I was gone, you suffered grievances and so did everyone in the shelter. But it doesn’t matter. Seeing you unharmed puts me at ease. As long as you’re safe.”
“Right, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? There’s a great place nearby that serves amazing braised pork knuckle rice, the gravy they pour over the rice is absolutely divine. My treat! Let’s sit down, eat, and…”
The moment he mentioned pork knuckle rice, Sun Yuechi lifted his eyes brightly, only for him to see a fist growing bigger and bigger.
He barely managed to turn his neck to spare his fragile nose, but his cheek took the full force of that punch that had traveled thousands of kilometers.
“FUCK YOU!” Broken, fragmented echoes slammed into his ears.
Before he even understood what had happened, Sun Yuechi, punched squarely in the face, collapsed unconscious.
The crowd around them reacted at once, rushing to pull the furious man off him.
Huang Guangwei, his arms restrained, kicked frantically. Gazing at the man lying on the ground, he roared in grief and rage.
“Let me go! This is between us, stay out of it! Let me beat him! I’ll kill that bastard! Ahhhh!”
Although the New Alliance rarely interfered in outsiders’ personal affairs, Dawn City was still New Alliance territory.
Regardless of the reason, assaulting someone in public meant a trip to the holding cell. The guards who hurried over dragged Huang Guangwei to the guard station, while the unconscious former administrator of Shelter 70 was placed on a stretcher and taken to a nearby medical post.
People in the market soon gathered around, whispering as they watched the commotion.
“What happened just now?”
“No idea… the two of them suddenly started fighting.”
“I thought I heard something about pork knuckle rice.”
“Pork knuckle rice?!”
As always, in the realm of gossip, NPCs were not inferior to players. Rumors grew more absurd with each retelling, until finally a dramatic tale of betrayal and revenge, all sparked by pork knuckle rice, spread across the market.
And as fate would have it, the exact moment that fist smashed into Sun Yuechi’s face had been captured by a photographer from Goblin Observations.
In Dawn City, anything associated with goblins and that unreliable fuck was never any good. And indeed, that held true.
The newspaper, sponsored by Goblin Technology, had never been a reputable publication. In fact, the single investor behind it had never intended to make money in the first place.
The photo was quickly delivered to the editorial department. A sloppy headline was slapped on and the day’s special edition headline was born.
[Shocking! Shelter 70’s administrator knocked out by a subordinate who chased him across the wasteland, because of a bowl of pork knuckle rice!]
The explosive picture and outrageous headline attracted countless curious readers. The issue sold so well that Goblin Observer even outsold Survivor’s Daily that day.
And surprisingly, the photo didn’t just boost newspaper sales, it dragged pork knuckle rice along for the ride.
What kind of delicious food could lead Shelter 70’s administrator to abandon the entire shelter?
Everyone who read the headline found themselves wondering the same thing. Driven by curiosity, long lines formed outside every food place selling pork knuckle rice.
Even restaurants and taverns that originally didn’t offer it couldn’t resist the temptation of profit and temporarily added it to their menus.
Every pig in Dawn City was sold out. The poor pigs transported by train from the Sunset Province’s farms hadn’t even eaten a mouthful of feed before they were hustled straight into the slaughterhouse.
“Hahahahaha!”
In the lobby of Highway Town Hoel.
Duke Garawa sat at a table, laughing so hard his goat beard quivered as he stared at Goblin Observer. His stomach hurt from laughing. He was the Xilande Empire’s ambassador and the lord of White Elephant City, his veins carried the noble blood of the Elephantfolk, and his family owned vast estates stretching from the Everflowing River to the White Elephant Tower. He ranked among the most prestigious nobles.
Originally, the emperor had tasked him with visiting the Lion Kingdom to showcase their imperial grandeur. But seeing how even the desert tribes bowed toward the New Alliance, he became irritated and curious.
What kind of empire could gain such loyalty?
Thus, he brought his entourage to see for himself.
Coincidentally, Banteno, a general and emissary of the Xilande Empire’s most important military ally, the Army, was also in the New Alliance, participating in something called the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee.
When Garawa learned Banteno was struggling alone in negotiations, he immediately sensed an opportunity. He sent a messenger back to the emperor announcing this heaven-sent chance to make the Wislander people indebted, while confidently promising Banteno that the Xilande Empire would assist in the negotiations and help shoulder the pressure from the east.
Perhaps moved by his sincerity, Banteno grasped his hand warmly and, over the next few days, fought against opposition to bring the Xilande Empire into the world-shaping conference.
In truth, the job was easier than expected. All he needed to do was vote however Banteno voted. Garawa soon discovered the situation was not nearly as severe as he had imagined. For example, the Bugra Free State, though represented in negotiations by the Enterprise, secretly favored their side. Simply put, if the Army and Enterprise supported something, the Bugra Free State supported it too. If the Army opposed but the Enterprise agreed, they played dead. If the Army opposed and the New Alliance supported a stance, they voted against.
Of course, that depended on the Enterprise’ attitude; if they supported something strongly, the Bugra Free State would continue playing dead.
Garawa secretly despised these fence-sitters. Those slick opportunists thought they could please both sides, but in the end pleased neither. He had heard Banteno curse them out repeatedly in private gatherings.
Whenever that happened, Garawa felt secretly delighted.
The Xilande Empire was different, they had always been the Army’s most loyal ally. The Wislander people would remember their aid, and the emperor would remember his contributions.
The work was so easy he barely needed to read the agenda.
It was why he had spent recent days exploring every popular eatery in Dawn City.
When not in meetings, he wandered the settlements, observing the customs of the New Alliance. After his hearty laughter subsided, Garawa straightened his posture, clicked his tongue elegantly, and looked at the photo like he was viewing monkeys in a zoo.
“These barbarians… how uncultured must they be to make such a disgrace over a mere plate of food?”
His attendant, Niyan, immediately echoed his thought. “The Southern Archipelago rely on the Camel Kingdom for grain. The people there are as thin as monkeys from the Baiyue Province. How can they compare to us, blessed by the bounty of the Everflowing River?”
Hearing it, Garawa smiled with satisfaction. Niyan was his favorite servant, his personal secretary and aide. The man always said the right things. His only flaw was his lowly bloodline as he belonged to the Mousefolk. Even the Wolffolk guards standing behind Garawa possessed nobler lineage.
Compared to the other patrons in the lobby, their table radiated an entirely different aura. One man ate while over a dozen stood behind him.
Whatever it was, it was the wasteland. There were talking lizards, bears that could drink beer, and even stranger folk around, so the strange entourage didn’t attract too much attention.
The headline of Goblin Observer was far more interesting gossip anyway.
Garawa, however, didn’t think so. To him, he was the center of attention wherever he went, especially seated in the middle of the lobby by design.
He felt that those whispering barbarians were undoubtedly discussing him. Thus, he constantly adjusted his posture to ensure his appearance remained elegant.
