Master of Kaidan-Chapter 561: The Era of Great Employment is Coming

"There are other Kaidan in this world? Or is it..."

Feng Xue’s eyes narrowed slightly as he opened the email and read its content, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Okay, he thought too much. Having been involved with Kaidan for so long, he had actually forgotten that aside from setting-based Kaidan and phantasms, there was another way to break through his encryption— freēwēbηovel.c૦m

Backend addition.

Well, after all, the entire network operation and supervision of Isgray City were integrated, and he had only just bought the 1174 Illegal Zone from someone else. It was not a difficult task for them to directly add an email at the server headquarters.

What’s the saying again?

When your enemy has already entered your machine room, no matter how powerful your hacker skills are, they become useless.

He silently admonished himself not to underestimate the power of ordinary people and then savored the contents of the email in detail.

The email was brief and simple. Plainly spoken, it was an inquiry about the "Cure," "Fate Inquiry," and "Hire Hit" shops, followed by a hope to exchange a batch of Ming Coins through Feng Xue.

To be honest, this approach was quite polite. But credit points were nothing more than numbers that could be added or subtracted at will to those capable of directly manipulating the Isgray City main server, not to mention Feng Xue wasn’t in it for the money.

But he did not confront them directly. Instead, he acted as if he hadn’t noticed the extra email at all. He still had to go to work tomorrow morning!

...

While Feng Xue did not reply to the email, Isgray City was nevertheless simmering with covert turbulence.

Illegal Zone 1174 had not been sold for long, and in the eyes of the interested, it was not a very difficult matter to investigate. A slight verification would reveal what the place was like before.

Though the technology to completely transform a zone within a day or two did exist, it obviously involved considerable commotion. Yet, in reality, the entire process had happened without making a sound; the neighboring freight elevators had no records, and the local workers had no corresponding information.

This inevitably sparked the imagination of the higher echelons of Isgray City.

If it had been a few years earlier, most of them would have suspected some sort of scam or a trap that was already set up, with the adversary not even occupying the so-called Illegal Zone 1174 or the investigation scant.

But now, their interest had been piqued, and the reason lay in the "Ghosts" that had emerged into the public eye over the past two years.

Although research on these entities was still in a black-box state, it was already an accepted fact that Ghosts had special powers. While examples like the previously studied Gambling Ghost, who could bet with their lives, were rare, a considerable number of Ghosts with various incredible effects had appeared.

For instance, in the Constantin Company’s Isgray City branch laboratory, there was an Electric Ghost, which could release energy equivalent to a small nuclear reactor every day.

To those "in the know," Illegal Zone 1174 undoubtedly had acquired some Rare Ghosts, using them to construct this abnormal city within the city.

However, when it came to how to handle it, there were differences among the big players.

Everyone wanted to bring this zone, or rather the Ghost behind it, under their control, yet they were also wary of stumbling into major troubles without understanding the Ghost’s characteristics, just as had happened with previous research on the Gambling Ghost.

Eventually, they could only enter a relatively stable balance, planning to probe slowly and, in the meantime, gauge the attitude of the holder of this Illegal Zone.

...

He slept in until past eight o’clock, Feng Xue stretched vigorously as he sat up from bed. He frowned immediately—how had there gotten to be so many people in the labor Hell overnight?

With that thought, he immediately opened the intercity network. It was fine when he didn’t check, but one glance now twisted his face into an odd expression.

Because overnight, a plethora of livestreams had popped up exploring the illegal zone 1774. Even though those livestreaming had started in the evening and hadn’t come in directly for work, the pawnshop’s secrets were now exposed. There was even a hero who pawned five years of his life straight away at the pawnshop.

However, compared to the Yisuan Hall’s life valuation of sixty thousand per year, the pawn price was much lower. At least this gentleman, unknown whether a corporate drone or something else, had pawned five years of life for just ten thousand Ming Coins.

This wasn’t because the pawnshop intentionally underpriced it, but because the rules were such—

Unlike the impartiality at the time of purchase, the pawnshop would base its judgment on the quality of an individual’s life. For example, a company CEO’s one-year life span would surely be worth more than one year of a beggar’s life. Although it sounded cruel, it was an undeniable fact.

A scientist’s life was simply worth more than that of an illiterate, a wealthy capitalist’s life was worth more than that of a petty crook.

And with the pawning of this life, the immediate aging process shown in the live broadcast had given everyone ample faith in the life transactions here. Shortly after, a large influx of laborers poured in, as if this was not something hard to accept.

After all, even if they didn’t need it for themselves, wouldn’t it be nice to earn some Ming Coins and then exchange them for credit points with the gold-collector tycoons?

After all, the total amount the banks could exchange each month was fixed. In other words, if these tycoons wanted to collect Ming Coins, they would necessarily offer a price higher than the exchange rate.

And since Ming Coin was a form of paper money, there was no issue with binding. People didn’t just trade it—they outright robbed it.

But such individuals would almost immediately be thrown into Prison. After all, the labor Hell was already a Hell—having one or two prison guards was only reasonable, right?

"The allure of life as collateral really does exist," Feng Xue noted, observing the formation of gold farming groups and nodding in approval. Everything was developing according to his plan, but next, he had to lead everyone through the process.

Reincarnated as Alfred, Feng Xue walked out of the internet café and began his live broadcast, not even waiting to tip himself before a torrent of viewers flooded in, peppering the chat with a non-stop barrage of questions about the illegal zone 1774.

He didn’t bother answering their questions. Slinging a bag over one shoulder, he made his way to the company.

By this time, it wasn’t early anymore, and the entire company was filled with a bustle.

However, any slightly experienced person could see through the charade—whether fetching water back and forth or furiously typing on the keyboard, it’s all just meaningless performance.

Ignoring the offices he passed, Feng Xue walked straight to the design department. The moment one foot stepped into the office, a gloomy voice said:

"Why have you come so late?"

"Late?" Alfred was all about not pampering the bosses—a bad habit baked into his character, he retorted immediately. Hearing this, the manager, who had been holding back his anger since last night, stormed up, pointing at the clock in the office:

"Look at the time. Other colleagues arrived at seven o’clock, and you..."

"What about me? They came early because they wanted to. The contract stipulates starting at nine o’clock, and right now it’s only eight fifty-seven. Now, please step aside, don’t delay my clocking in!" Alfred, displaying a carelessly lazy expression, instantly flipped the narrative among the viewers tuned into the workplace rectification live broadcast. But it was quickly suppressed by more comments about illegal zone 1774.

Yet, the manager stood there, statue-like with a face turning iron blue, not wanting to budge at all, determined to stand there long enough to make him late.

But who was Alfred? With a reach of his hand, before even touching him, the manager tumbled out like a rolling gourd. Alfred immediately swiped his work card at the time clock, then with a helpless expression said:

"Manager, that tumble was too fake, wasn’t it? Even though I really feel like slapping you, I hadn’t even touched you, had I?"

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