This Game Is Too Real-Chapter 766: Hope Emerges from the Ground

Before coming to Jin Jialun Port, Suni had always thought the residents here were conservative, feudal, and somewhat stubborn.

Just like the believers in the Spirit of the Sand Sea from Luo Xia Province, who would always keep a handful of rust-flavored sand in their pockets.

Thieves never dared to cut those people’s pockets. After all, even if they lost money, they would only call the police. But if their pockets’ sand were lost, those individuals genuinely dared to kill someone.

To avoid offending the locals and to prevent getting beaten to death by sticks when hitting on girls, he had seriously consulted a Moon tribeswoman working at the bar in Potato Harbor while he was in the southern sea area. He carefully studied the religion, taboos, and customs of Poluo Province, even noting them down in a booklet he carried around, effectively crafting a full strategy guide.

However, when he actually arrived at Jin Jialun Port, he found that what he heard and what he saw were completely different things.

There weren’t so many complications and taboos here.

The conservatism of the locals was only directed towards themselves, and they were not only not conservative towards someone like him, an outsider, but they were even more open than he had imagined.

There were bars in Potato Harbor and on Ring Island too, but he had never encountered anyone whose tolerance was so low that just a sip of beer would have them drunkenly nestling in his chest, blowing in his ear.

Does everyone here really have such poor tolerance for alcohol?!

Had he not been carrying a mirror with him, he would have even begun to suspect that he was incredibly handsome, just unnoticed because Ring Island was too small, and his group of friends must be deliberately suppressing him.

Although he enjoyed it at first, it soon started to bore him. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Compared to primal desires, he actually preferred the sparks that flew from colliding with different souls. Yet, most people here just wanted to sleep with him, then lie on his chest after the deed discussing life, dreams, future plans, bicycles, and the next generation... His head was about to explode. He was only twenty years old, why should he worry about those things?

Plus, what use is a bicycle? Isn’t it better to just speed off in a speedboat?

What depressed him the most was that he had come here with the ill-intentioned goal of "hunting," but after arriving, he found himself becoming the "prey," with the girls at the bar even better at playing the game than him.

This feeling wasn’t good at all, even downright awful, to the point where he became so depressed that he swore off alcohol altogether.

Not just at the bar.

Work was the same.

For instance, his first job was tutoring the daughter of a local wealthy merchant.

This job was introduced by a Weilante man who was a middleman, supposedly the merchant had been a noble of Jin Galun Port since the Nihak period and was very wealthy.

The salary was also quite high, 10,000 silver coins a month.

The employer had only one requirement: the tutor had to be from the Alliance. Since the South Sea Union was also part of the Alliance, and the Weilante middleman said it was no problem, he took the job.

He thought that living in a big mansion would mean the people were somewhat reserved, but not only did the girl make uninvited advances, even the merchant’s wife gave him suggestive glances now and then.

Suni felt like he was going insane.

Especially when he heard that the merchant had business dealings with the well-known local gang "Assassin Gang."

Faced with the choice between a generous salary and his life, he ultimately chose the latter, painfully resigning from the high-risk job.

Of course, it must be said, that the exceptions are only a very small part of the population.

It’s like when a hungry crowd rushes into a cafeteria, there are inevitably some who, like starving ghosts reincarnate, try to make up for all the food they missed in their previous life, and end up being carried out horizontally.

Compared to those who are too stingy to eat or eat themselves to death, most people are quite normal. Working seriously and studying hard are the standard for ordinary people.

After spending a week adjusting his state, he arrived at a public school founded by Baiyue Corporation in the local area through the introduction of the city hall employment office, becoming a language teacher.

Most of the students here are children from the nearby community, coming from both poor families and city dwellers. Because the Jin Jialun Port Authority promised to provide students with free lunch and breakfast, and knowing literacy could help them find better jobs, most locals were quite cooperative with the compulsory education policy promoted by the authorities.

Regardless of their social class, these children were incredibly diligent, so much so that even Sunny himself sometimes felt ashamed.

They were eager to change their destinies.

There was also free education on Ring Island, but he had completed his university studies in a muddled state, graduated and went to a canning factory, later ended up at the docks, and eventually just lived off unemployment benefits without any motivation...

Compared to these young boys and girls, his past 20 years felt like they were spent in a dazed confusion.

Inspired by those diligent and eager eyes, Sunny too became fully spirited, wholeheartedly devoted himself to the educational work, and even telegraphed his friends on Ring Island to send over books from there, so he could brush up on the knowledge he had forgotten.

Although the salary from the public school wasn’t much, only 12,000 gallons a month, it was still much higher than the local residents’ wages.

Plus, the cost of living here was very low, eating, commuting, and getting haircuts were all cheap; only imported goods, luxury items, and assets were expensive, which suited his low-maintenance lifestyle as a street drifter.

However, to be fair, his life could no longer be described as aimless. It could even be said he had transcended lowbrow tastes and was immensely fulfilled, for he had found something he could truly call a "career," something to be dedicated to for life.

Of course, even so, there were still occasional rebellious individuals attempting to make waves in his otherwise unremarkable teaching career, or to put it another way, to surprise him.

It was a clear, sunny afternoon.

He had just finished a substitute geometry class for the senior students when a tall girl cornered him in his office to ask about a math problem.

Originally, their discussion was indeed about math, but it wasn’t long before the girl shifted the topic, looking at him with meaningful eyes.

"Teacher, may I ask your surname?"

Sunny looked at her with curiosity.

"Sunny... Why do you ask?"

The girl looked at him in surprise.

"So it is, I always thought Sunny was your given name, with a different surname."

Seeing her curiosity about his hometown, Sunny responded with a smile.

"Back home, we have many naming conventions, mostly depending on the parents. My father told me that my great-great-grandfather might have been a resident of a shelter, but my great-great-grandmother was from the islands. Besides, there are also people without surnames entirely, just like here where people only have given names."

This latter practice is common among Waste Land Wanderers and some special Residents of the refuge who choose names in slang that outsiders can’t understand, like "Shelter No. 404."

The girl’s eyes twinkled with curiosity about the outside world and a hint of faint longing.

"...We do have surnames actually, for example, the Rat Clan has 13 different pronunciations, the most common one being Scowen, but the Snake Clan also uses Scowen, so we rarely use surnames."

"I see, I thought you simply didn’t have surnames... Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend," Sunny said, surprised, but quickly realized his remark might have been too flippant and hastily added.

The girl smiled coyly but responded nonchalantly.

"It’s okay, it’s normal for you not to know since you just arrived here. By the way, my name is Anushuka."

Sunny complimented her.

"That’s a lovely name."

"Is it...? I always think it’s not very nice. It has too many syllables. I’ve been wanting to change it," Anushuka’s eyes showed a hint of melancholy, then she looked at him intently, "What do you think of Su An or Su Ka?"

Sunny was taken aback by the directness, especially as she suddenly leaned in close with her hair swinging near his cheek.

A hint of fragrance entered his nose; he coughed dryly and unconsciously took half a step back.

"This kind of matter... I think you should consult your parents."

"But you have better ideas than them," the girl took a step forward, her eyes intently fixed on him, "You’re from the Alliance, aren’t you?"

"I’m from the South Sea Union... actually quite far away," Suni explained with a wry smile.

"It’s not that far after all, given how knowledgeable you are from there... It would be nice to visit."

The girl’s eyes sparkled with hope and a faint desire.

Suni really wanted to say that there was nothing good about that place; the streets were narrow and short, and he had run to this place to try his luck...

But seeing the expression on the girl’s face, he knew that anything he said would be useless.

Just as he was unsure how to handle the situation, the sound of footsteps from outside the office finally broke the awkward atmosphere.

Suni breathed a sigh of relief, not waiting for the girl to show her disappointment before she thanked him for the advice, bowed slightly, and scurried out the door with her notebook.

Glancing at the girl who had hurriedly left, his colleague next to him, who could guess what had transpired just by using his toes, tauntingly commented,

"Headache, isn’t it? The girls here are too enthusiastic."

This fellow employee, who had worked here the longest and had come from the City of Dawn, said, his credentials were stacked full.

The female colleague at the opposite table did not appreciate this comment and pursed her lips, saying,

"It’s not only the girls; the young guys are the same. I can’t even eat a meal without three locals asking for directions. I don’t know who gave them the illusion that the residents of the Free State party every day... it’s really enough."

Watching her eye roll, the colleague from the City of Dawn leaned back in his chair laughing,

"Ha ha ha... Speaking of which, I did hear something about it back in the City of Dawn!"

Feeling the glares from across the table, he involuntarily shivered, ceasing his ill-received joke.

Suni made himself a cup of tea and resettled into his chair, watching the misty steam from his tea cup and sighed,

"To be honest, I’m worried. It’s fine if such an atmosphere is in bars, but it should not appear in classrooms... Many girls from Potato Harbor are from here, yet they are completely different. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if our educational methods are wrong. We should be teaching them not just knowledge but also self-respect and self-love, or else they’ll end up being slaves to others... What’s the difference then."

The teacher from the City of Dawn patted his shoulder.

"Take it easy, and stop blaming yourself. Maybe... the girls of Potato Harbor are just indifferent to you, after all, you did close the door on them earlier."

Suni shook his head.

"Okay, you’re a guy from the City of Dawn, it may be different for you, but you have to admit that people from there are indeed more normal than here... Damn, I just want to teach properly! Wait, am I actually just wanting to teach properly?"

He distinctly remembered that before coming here, his intention had been to flirt around.

Yet here he was, just a couple of months later, finding himself a completely changed man, surprisingly becoming ascetic.

Perhaps the saying is right, only those who respect themselves get respected, and only those who love themselves get loved.

Walking among the inhabitants of this place, who were nothing more than soulless shells, he found it really hard to fall in love with the people here or find the kind of love he deeply desired within his heart... rather than just a fling.

At that moment, Suni suddenly noticed a newspaper on his colleague’s desk next door, became curious, and reached out to take it.

"Survivor’s Daily is now available here?"

He flipped through the newspaper randomly only to discover that it was completely different from the one in Potato Harbor. It mainly covered fresh news from Jin Jialun Port and included some literary works submitted by local residents.

"It’s quite recent," said the teacher from the City of Dawn, taking a sip of coffee. "I heard it’s run by some people from the Moon Clan and the Rat Clan. I don’t understand much about it, but the articles on it are pretty good. I’ve been bringing them back for my students to learn literacy. These newspapers seem to be more effective than the textbooks we have in the City of Dawn. Recently, several schools have suggested creating our own Jin Jialun Port textbooks, selecting articles from Survivor’s Daily to include in them, so I’ve been collecting the recent issues."

Suni’s face lit up with interest.

"Can I take a look at it?"

"Sure," shrugged the teacher from the City of Dawn with a smile. "Just don’t lose it."

"Thanks."

With some time before his next class, Suni curiously opened the borrowed newspaper and was soon captivated by the headline.

"Red Soil"

The author was Mr. Mouse.

Was this about the origin of red soil?

Initially, that’s what he thought, but he realized it wasn’t as straightforward as he had assumed.

"...long ago, I wanted to write a biography for General Lowell."

"In the year of ice and snow, without sunlight or moonlight, he achieved an extraordinary feat. He found a way for his descendants to survive—eat soil to stay alive. Ironically, despite his exceptional achievements, he did not meet a good end. He was buried in the ground by ignorant people, who even spat on him... much like those martyrs who aided everyone but were buried in the blizzard."

"I first thought those people were simply not smart, until later when I met ancestors of ’shovel wielders’ who turned out to be scholars, experts, engineers, even soldiers who initially supported General Lowell from the glorious era. These people were not fools; interpreting their actions from an intelligence perspective clearly did not work. Ridiculing them only made me look conceited and foolish. There was only one explanation... they all went mad, collectively burying the only sane person, Lord Lowell."

"I can’t understand why so many people went mad, set on harming someone who cared for, cherished, and even saved them, just because he was a bit autocratic... until later, when I met L, a young rat from White Elephant City."

"He wore tattered clothes, which could hardly be called clothes—more like rags draped over his body. He had a scar on his head, reportedly from a cigarette butt thrown at him by a young master while working temporarily on a farm. Though it should have been a reason for anger, whenever he spoke of that ’glorious moment,’ he did so with pride, boasting that the scar was a blessing from the noble, ensuring that he would reincarnate into a noble family next life. Lucky for him, others thought mentioning this was massively disrespectful, preventing the words from reaching the young master’s ears, otherwise the young master would have certainly decapitated him, ensuring he’d never reach ’red soil.’"

"I first saw him at a master’s farm, praising the young master’s intelligence and resemblance to the lord, only to receive not favor but a brutal beating from the other servants. Knowing he was from the Rat Clan and seeing him bloodied was heartbreaking, so I wanted to intervene, but was stopped by others, who then told me more about L."

"I despised his lack of fight, yet I relied on the lord’s favor for my own sustenance, hardly in a position to criticize him. Haven’t I praised the young master myself? Over time, I reassured myself, eventually forgetting about the incident, until there was a major incident in White Elephant City where the Moon Clan was accused of another rebellion, causing citywide panic to ensnare some Moon Clanners. I reassured myself again, this had nothing to do with the Rat Clan, nor with the master’s servants, yet unexpectedly, I saw him at the execution grounds."

"How similar their fates: both those who planted red soil and those who ate red soil were buried in it. Therefore, before praising the greatness of General Lowell, I wanted to use L’s story as a ’preface,’ which is also a story worthy of song and tears..."

Initially, Suni had opened the newspaper just to pass the time, but he was instantly engrossed, completely losing track of time until the school bell rang bringing him back with a start.

"Wow."

Is this really what they wrote themselves?

Though the earlier text was dry, as he read further, he could see the bloody vividness beneath the surface and the silent wail of ghosts.

Whispered Suni, feeling thunder rolling by his ears, like a deafening cry.

He wasn’t a survivor from Poluo Province, but he could still hear the cries between the lines—what these people were eating was not soil at all, but rather generations of people buried in the ground!

He stood up from his chair, clutching the newspaper tightly as he rushed out the door.

His expression was fierce, his spirit vibrant, his steps swift, not even bringing his ever-present teaching notes... because right now, he didn’t need them.

His duty as a teacher told him, he must read these words to the children.

They shouldn’t just be sitting there with books for the sake of a ship ticket, nor for a work visa promised by Potato Harbor, or to find some chaotic place in Wasteland to sell themselves.

They should have studied for themselves! To learn real knowledge, to understand the relationships between people, to comprehend the laws of nature, to ponder their place among the mountains and rivers...

They needed souls!

...

The private room of the Triumph Hotel.

It wasn’t just some semi-competent teacher who enjoyed reading loudly in solemn classrooms; a rather mature-looking young man had also read that piece titled "Red Soil" in the Survivor’s Daily.

Or more precisely, the foreword of the serialized novel, "Red Soil."

That guy who called himself "Mr. Mouse" had nearly laid bare everything about the Mouse Tribe.

However, after listening to the entire article, Ah Xin, sitting in the private room, burst out laughing, clapping the armrest of his chair twice with his right hand.

"Ha ha ha, brilliant! Truly fucking brilliant!"

A group of formally-dressed men stood seriously behind him, eyes filled with fierceness.

They were the core members of Assassin’s Free State, previously living in the street in front of the Governor’s Mansion; naturally, some were from the Mouse Tribe.

The girl who read the article to him had eyes filled with fear, looking uneasily at the man sitting at the table.

She was of the Cow People, previously a minor noble in Jinjialun Port, forced to teach reading and writing due to financial need.

Clearly, the identity of the Cow People here wasn’t very useful; whoever could ensure everyone ate well and earned enough, that was the real noble.

Just like the Mouse tribesman before her, who clearly didn’t consider her lineage important.

Nevertheless, he respected knowledge a lot, so he was quite polite to her, and it didn’t seem like he vented his anger on her because of the article she had read.

Seeing that it was getting late, Ah Xin gestured to someone nearby, fetched a check, wrote some numbers on it, and handed it to this "home tutor."

"This is your salary for last month. I might be quite busy in the coming days, so I’m giving this to you in advance."

The girl quickly nodded, hurriedly took the check, and unintentionally held her breath.

100,000 gallons!

She gave him a look of disbelief, only to see him slightly wave his hand.

"The rest is a bonus... My guest will be arriving soon, and it’s getting dark. You should head home."

The girl uttered a thankful word, then bowed her head, eyes red, and hurried off.

Watching the noble lady leave, Kunal looked perplexed at his boss, who pretended to understand the newspaper, and buzzed.

"Boss... don’t you feel offended?"

Ah Xin was trying to match the words and sentences he had just learned, and spoke patiently.

"Kunal, my friend, only a dying patient would hold a grudge against a doctor. If someone is beyond help, letting them live well and arranging a grand funeral is true kindness. Advising them to smoke less would only hurt them and their family... and clearly, we haven’t reached that point yet. Do you eat dirt?"

Kunal shook his head like a bobblehead.

"Who eats that stuff nowadays?"

"Right," Ah Xin smiled faintly, "At least the residents of Jin Galun Port don’t anymore. Maybe only those who swim up from the river ate it at first, but even that was only in the beginning... Sooner or later, that stuff will be knocked down without a trace, just like every spike in the City of Thousand Pillars."

He was still very young, and all the survivors in Poluo Province were young. Those declining were the feudal lords and the old aristocrats.

He was pleased that so many young people were as indignant as he was, walking on the same sun-drenched path, even though they held different thoughts.

As they were talking, footsteps sounded at the door; a tall and burly fellow entered.

A gun was holstered at his waist, and only two attendants followed him, but the LD-47 assault rifles on their backs subdued the atmosphere among the surrounding group.

Both of these fellows were tough combatants from the battlefield, the-type to charge through a hail of bullets.

The guy walking in front had a lazy look, and a hint of arrogance sat in his brows. He walked in nonchalantly, completely ignoring everyone around him.

Yet, including Ah Xin, no one thought him arrogant.

After all, this guy truly had the capital to be proud.

When everyone else was chained, only he had caught the gun thrown to him by that official.

If catching the gun was just luck, what followed was a show of brutal courage as he pushed forward with artillery, taking down Lowell Camp.

Compared to someone like himself, hidden in the shadows, Ah Xin knew this man was a real big shot.

This person was Laxi, the director of the Jinjialun Port Civil Defense Office, responsible for the strategic operations and logistics of the Militia Group, essentially the head of Jin Galun Port’s military.

To invite this big shot, he had spared no expense in smoothing things through and making arrangements.

Yet even so, this big shot had only agreed to meet with him just this once, promising nothing more.

Ah Xin quickly stood up, while putting on a warm smile he gestured invitingly.

"General, please take a seat."

Laxi took a seat directly opposite him and, although giving him some courtesy, got straight to the point.

"What do you mean by inviting me here?"

Ah Xin made a gesture for the servers to bring the dishes, and looked smile while looking at him.

"I heard the General has been brooding lately; I was just contemplating the hard work you’ve done for the people and wanted to help ease your worries."

"Hah."

Laxi snorted through his nose, pushed the server’s hand away from the pot, poured himself a drink, and then set the pot down on the table.

"Help me ease my worries... You know nothing, fucking hammer. In my opinion, businesspeople should honestly stick to their trade, avoiding illegal activities. Don’t stick your hands where they don’t belong, or one day you won’t even know how you died. I’ll drink your wine today, but when it’s time to send you off, I won’t be soft-handed."

Kunal’s mouth twitched, but with two soldiers watching, he dared not move a muscle.

Ah Xin, however, remained composed; after all, it wasn’t his first time being under the gun.

"General jests. My business in Jinga Lun is all above board; I’ve even helped the Union break up several smuggling deals involving drugs and people. If anyone in my employ touches something they shouldn’t, I’d clean house without needing a reminder from that official."

"That’s none of my business," Laxi waved his chopsticks to stop him, focusing on his food, "Talk about your business."

Ah Xin slightly bowed his head, speaking respectfully.

"There’s a Moon Clan Resistance Army to the north, I wonder if the General has heard of it?"

"I’ve heard of them before... haha, what does it matter hearing about them?" Laxi scoffed and sneered, "Insignificant squabbles, with seven or eight hundred leaders emerging in a mere village, chaotically without dignity, incapable of proceeding smoothly, even larger endeavors find them restrained. Carrying the best equipment into the dumbest battles, chased around by second-rate armies, worse off than bandits."

Ah Xin’s mind stirred.

"With the general’s insightful view, how ought they proceed?"

Laxi responded without hesitation.

"My insightful view? Ha, why mince words—just command them to move east when told, west when ordered. Directed to take a few steps, they shall follow exactly, not one step more or less. Those who disobey should be killed. To fight well, one must start by dealing harshly with one’s own people. If frightened of action, better to roll back home to farm."

Fuelled by growing anger, he spoke increasingly vehemently until he was full of rage, tossing aside his chopsticks and shaking his head.

He did not have much knowledge in his belly, nor could he articulate much in terms of military theory, but it still frustrated him to see those folks incompetently waging war, unable to seize even a single settlement.

He did sincerely sympathize with those fellows, including the Moon people from Potato Harbor, even feeling sympathy from the members of the Alliance, who held high hopes for them. At least, in Fang Chang’s view, these people, having suffered oppression, were not likely to revert to the imperial ways once they overturned the Empire.

Baiyue Corporation had contacted these guerrilla Moon people more than once, providing them with both money and equipment. However, the end result was that these folks couldn’t even defeat local military factions; instead, they were exploited and ended up fostering enemies.

Not only had he sought out Fang Chang, but also others from the Alliance, yet they all feared his ruthlessness, worried he couldn’t manage the Poluo Province.

Every time he thought of this, Laxi felt unbearable indignation. Why wouldn’t he be able to manage?

While the Alliance’s methods were sound, only a few hundred came ashore. Had he not contributed to the successful transformation of Jinjialun Port?

To deter the hardliners and opportunistic thugs, he frequently resorted to killings, intimidating those nefarious spirits so fiercely they dared not deviate from his commands, not a step east if ordered to go west.

In the end, once the renovations of Jinjialun Port were completed, he became disposable, diminished by a clever move from Mr. Mouse and sidelined in an office as a mere token—a gesture for the locals.

Ah Xin could actually understand his resentment; after all, his own occupation also resembled that of a "night pot".

The infrastructure of Jin Galun Port required immense labor force while assimilating immigrants from the Everflow River.

Unmanaged labor inevitably breeds violence, and mere laws or prayers cannot suppress violence on lands devoid of certain traditions. An outlet must be created to contain this restless energy, preventing it from venting onto civilians.

The establishment of Ah Xin’s faction was encouraged by these conditions.

As for Banana Head Bay, it served as his planned escape route, including investments in various military factions.

Should the day come when his role as a "night pot" was discarded by the Alliance after the completion of Jinjialun Port’s infrastructure, he could still rely on his investments in Banana Head Bay and throughout the empire’s territory to secure a way out for himself and his family.

However, he was far luckier than Laxi; the construction of Jinjialun Port was not a task of merely a day or two. As long as he kept a low profile under the Alliance’s scrutiny, he would avoid their clean-up, at worst getting knocked by the authorities of Jin Galun Port.

"...I truly understand your predicament. A man of your talents should be displaying your ambitions on the battlefield, not at the dinner table."

Laxi chuckled heartily, paying no mind to the flattery.

"Cut the beating around the bush, just tell me what you really want."

"The Moon Clan’s Resistance Army is weak and incapable, toyed with by the Tiger army in the north. I believe ultimately, it lacks a brave and fierce leader to unite and lead them!"

Ah Xin’s gaze was intense as he leaned forward on the table.

"With your abilities, there is no doubt you’re the right person—only you could twist these former slaves into a single force! Coupled with the new military doctrines you’ve learned from the Alliance, you could surely make those feudal nobles suffer!"

He wholeheartedly agreed with this view, his own Ah Xin’s Gang had risen to prominence in Jin Galun Port by uniting to overcome rival factions.

Laxi burst into laughter upon hearing this, clearly not swayed by the speech yet amused, he teased back.

"You’re an interesting little fellow, flattering me in various ways. I don’t expose you and you just become addicted to it. We can sit here and talk lightly, but can you conjure up artillery shells and bullets?"

He was a rough man, true, but he was no fool—warfare was no jest.

No matter how capable Laxi was, without the Alliance, he was nothing.

However, what he didn’t expect was that the young man before him nodded decisively and agreed outright.

"I’ll provide! Ammunition for a hundred thousand men, I’ll provide, even for a million men! As long as you are willing to come out of seclusion and pull down that emperor, I, Ah Xin, will support you in combat even if I have to exhaust all my wealth. If you don’t believe me, I’ll go to the bank right now and withdraw the money!"

Laxi squinted his eyes, his face’s smile disappeared, and he stared at him intently.

"...Offering kindness without a cause, one must be a swindler or a thief. I’m indeed curious about what you are really after."

Ah Xin said nothing but placed the "Survivor’s Daily" on the table and gently pushed it toward him.

"I, Ah Xin, am a businessman, engaged in commerce only for wealth, but this is the only matter I pursue not for any other reason but to fight for a breath of dignity... Us people of the Rat Clan aren’t meant to live a lowly life by nature."

Looking at the newspaper’s headline, Laxi chuckled, grabbed the newspaper, put down his leg that was resting on his knee, shook his clothes, and stood up.

"Coincidentally, we people of the Moon Clan aren’t either. But I can’t give you an answer for such a big matter without taking some time. Give me three days."

After he spoke, he left without touching the remaining food or the wine he treasured like life itself, waving his sleeve and taking the newspaper with him.

Looking at the barely touched dishes on the table, Kunal felt a bit heartbroken and looked towards Ah Xin.

"Boss... do you think he is reliable?"

Ah Xin gently sat back down on the chair, picked up the chopsticks that hadn’t been touched, and spoke lightly.

"Kunal, what do you think is truly reliable? And when do you think real reliability arrives? Or perhaps, is it necessary to consider who is fit or unfit for the task he undertakes?"

"I... don’t know." Kunal scratched the back of his head and grimaced.

"It’s not important whether our general can succeed or not; it’s just like how the Tiger Army’s warlord has business dealings with us, yet we invest both in him and his enemies."

Pouring himself a glass of wine, Ah Xin spoke in a very soft voice.

"Wasteland is undergoing a revolution it hasn’t seen in two hundred years. River Valley Province is being reborn in fiery flames, Brocade River Province finds hope in fire, and Haiye Province too... We’ve been quiet for two hundred years; we too need a fire. Now is the best time—true empires are busy settling old scores and continuing the unresolved conflict from two hundred years ago, no one has time to pay attention to us. Someone must take the initiative to fire a shot now, let the restless others see what kind of creature the Witch Camel riding on their heads really is."

Outsiders can only see their inherent compliance and forbearance, but as someone from the Rat Clan, he understood all too well that behind those words lay another.

That is, rebellion.

Or rather, a defiant nature.

Just like rats, usually chased by cats and toyed with, but when driven to desperation, they even dare bite humans.

Saying this, he glanced around at his brothers, spoke cordially.

"...Come over and sit down to eat, you all know I hate to waste, and such a grand feast is meant for everyone; I can’t finish it alone."

"Wasn’t it ordered for Laxi?" While calling over his brothers to sit down, Kunal asked confusedly by his ear.

Ah Xin smiled faintly and started using the chopsticks first, even though he was still not very skilled with them.

"That man wouldn’t dine like us; spreading the word about that would be bad for both him and me. Just him having a drink before leaving was already giving us a lot of face."

"His ambitions are much greater than those of a minor character like me."