This Game Is Too Real-Chapter 769: He Who Stays Near Vermilion Gets Stained Red, He Who Stays Near Ink Gets Stained Black

"It was technology."

In the Embassy Street of City of Dawn, dapper young men and women came and went in the streets.

Occasionally, one could even spot a piece of "luminous" clothing, likely Ideal City’s "holographic attire," capable of changing even the color of one’s hair at will.

"Technology is truly marvelous..."

Gazing out of the window, Duke Garava of Ideal City’s grand hotel heaved a deep sigh, followed by another spontaneous exhalation of regret.

"If only the Empire’s technology were more advanced, if United Human had left more of its legacy for my Empire... My subjects wouldn’t have to eat dirt, truly a sin." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Duke Garava had naturally seen yesterday’s report in Survivor’s Daily, reproducing "Red Soil"—although he only read the serialized beginning—"L biography."

Though the article was largely aimed at casting aspersions, he had to admit that there were indeed some in White Elephant City too lazy to work, unable even to afford beans.

But where don’t such lazybones exist?

Moreover, Survivor’s Daily, obviously an Alliance newspaper, chose to report on slackers thousands of kilometers away while turning a blind eye to the ones in Giant Stone City who, due to excessive drinking, had lost their wives and children.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed Dawn Garden News, bold enough to tell the truth, was the one really speaking up for the millions of suffering survivors in the Alliance.

However, the skill of empty talk was actually trivial, and Duke Garava did not care much about the defamation by Survivor’s Daily; instead, the sight of Red Soil had struck a chord with him.

If only he had the technology to produce nutrient paste.

That stuff was said to make inedible things edible and sounded very nutritious.

The more Duke Garava thought about it, the more he felt that General Lowell was indeed up to no good, reducing the survival costs of the refugees in Poluo Province too drastically.

Farming requires paying taxes, but eating dirt does not; the entire process from production to distribution could be completed without the involvement of nobles or their appointed civil officials, and even if he wanted to intervene, he couldn’t, which was unfair to those who farmed the land.

"...If that year, instead of producing Red Soil, Lowell had produced some real technology, like machines to manufacture nutrient paste, my Empire wouldn’t be so weakened."

When Niyan first heard Duke Garava’s deep sighs, he felt a jolt of alarm, but upon hearing these words, he relaxed again.

This fellow had indeed read his work, but thankfully, not much of it.

A thousand readers have a thousand Bol’s in their hearts, including Bol seeing different things in what he read.

And as usual, his Duke was consistently misinformed, now thinking of technology as something akin to the Red Soil in the ground, probably still hoping for miracles, believing that simply burying something in the earth and digging around could unearth technology.

It was easy to fool this fellow; just do as he wanted, bury some relics of the Prosperity Epoch in the soil, and mimic the motions of digging, which was likely enough to keep him happy.

Niyan had even thought of how to use this "charity" money but was disappointed by Duke Garava’s next statement. For once, the fellow had been smart, not entrusting professional matters to the inexperienced.

"I have arranged a meeting with Mr. Lister, you go entertain him later, don’t neglect our honored guest."

Hearing the name Mr. Lister, Niyan found it vaguely familiar, and after some thought, he suddenly realized he might have seen it in an advertisement.

That man was something of a legend himself, starting as a merchant selling smuggled goods. Riding the chaotic wave of Bone Chewing Chaos, he shot to prominence, becoming a significant figure in Giant Stone City, and managed to get out intact before the city fell.

There was a saying that he was incredibly wealthy and could rival the wealth of nations, the richest man in City of Dawn.

However, Niyan always felt it a bit far-fetched to call Mr. Lister the wealthiest—they seemed to hold the one attending the hearings in higher regard.

Of course, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t all that important.

"Mr. Lister—is he the entrepreneur who produces exoskeletons and batteries?"

"That’s right," Duke Garava nonchalantly replied, mimicking someone’s style by adding some milk to his red tea, "I’ve studied the changes in Giant Stone City in detail, and that merchant named Lister made a big score from it, as did a steel merchant surnamed Sun. They are pretty much the wealthiest group in the Alliance, and buying them off will be much easier and more effective than trying to win over the residents of the refuge."

Considering this straw bag had actually investigated Giant Stone City, Niyan was greatly shocked, and cautiously asked another question.

"Are you planning to have him set up a factory in Poluo Province?"

"That’s right, I should have done this a long time ago. As a diplomat, I must do some solid work for the Empire." The Duke of Garava smiled faintly, his eyes twinkling with shrewd light.

Niyan cautiously reminded him.

"But we don’t have nuclear fusion there, nor do we have as many experts as Camp 101... How do we attract Mr. Lister over there?"

"It’s actually quite simple," the Duke of Garava said with a smile, "I’ve asked around; the Alliance didn’t have those things at first either, and Lister’s factory could still be established. As for nuclear fusion, it’s just a matter of electricity prices—I’ll just exempt him from electricity charges."

If he could move Lister’s factory to White Elephant City and manufacture a few thousand exoskeletons for him, there might be no need for His Majesty to intervene; his private soldiers on the estate could beat the Alliance until they were searching the ground for teeth.

A pleasant smile appeared on the Duke of Garava’s face, wishing he could immediately go to the Alliance’s post office to send a telegram and share his joy with His Majesty at this moment.

Niyan struggled to keep up with his train of thought but felt that letting this guy stir things up might just be a good thing, so he nodded in agreement.

"Understood."

...

The port of Jin Galun was basking in the sunshine and the end of the rainy season, with the nice weather persisting as usual.

Surrounded by seagulls, a large and long destroyer docked at the pier, with several tall and sturdy Alliance Soldiers—or players, clad in exoskeletons—disembarking.

Actually, wearing them wasn’t necessary.

But dressed in these gadgets, they were more eye-catching, and Zero Rush happened to like showing off.

Walking to the front of his teammates, Mountain River Entering Dreams looked around at the bunch of animals and spoke with a serious voice.

"In a while, we’ll go to Lowell Camp for check-in, and someone will link up with us for mission details. Remember, don’t go into the locals’ homes for shelter, even if it’s raining, let alone if it’s bloody shells falling!"

When saying the last sentence, Mountain River Entering Dreams especially glanced at Zero Rush.

The latter scratched his head in embarrassment, while Two Ounces of Moonlight and Firstborn both briskly responded.

"Roger that!"

"Oh!"

The powder keg of the southern sea area could explode at any time.

Strictly speaking, they should not have returned to Jin Galun Port at this time, having been recalled to Baiyue Province. However, some idiot had resigned with a group of officers, and they had no choice but to come back at the request of the authorities to retrain some officers for the Militia Group.

The tactics of players were not suited for NPCs, but the experience gained on the battlefield was interchangeable.

Moreover, after countless fear-of-death explorations, the players from the Burning Corps had honed some tactics to perfection.

For example, using multi-gun groups to launch creeping barrages to cover the infantry advance. The Burning Corps’ players could even charge forward hugging the edges of shell fragments, treating 155 mm howitzers as their own bayonets.

Other tactics included para-dropping behind enemy lines, hunting large Variants, and so on.

The group passed through the bustling Tulip Street, heading in the direction of Lowell Camp.

Passers-by frequently saluted these soldiers of the Alliance, and the players in their exoskeletons also observed the people on the street.

The first coastal freight railway of Jin Galun Port and the subway that ran through the entire settlement were both officially in operation. Although many old buildings were still standing on the streets, the original chaotic slum shacks had largely been replaced by the more space-efficient "Alliance-Style Affordable Housing."

Spacious roads were busy with cyclists and hurried pedestrians.

The streetlights, which used to belong only to Tulip Street, were extending along those main thoroughfares and might soon spread across the entire city.

Walking down the streets of this settlement felt quite like being in cyberspace Mumbai, especially since the most profitable industry here was cotton weaving and dying, which was oddly similar to Mumbai in the latter half of the eighteenth century.

However, this place was much larger than Mumbai.

In Zero Rush’s memory, Mumbai seemed to be over 4,000 square kilometers, while Jin Galun Port, including the vast undeveloped outskirts, covered a whopping 10,000 square kilometers.

Another point was that Mumbai was on the west coast of India, akin to the position of West Sail Port in Poluo Line, whereas Jin Galun Port was on the East Coast, right at the end of the Everflow River.

Of course, the most jarring or rather fragmented aspect was the locals’ peculiar speech habits.

Regardless of whether it was the lower or upper echelons of society, everyone’s words were tinged with an "Alliance flavor."

It was like throwing a few English phrases into standard Mandarin, with the locals extremely fond of mixing player-specific grammar and modal particles into their native dialects.

"...What the heck, why does everyone here like to casually greet each other’s mothers when they talk?" Zero Rush muttered skeptically, wondering if the map loading program had some glitch.

Two Ounces of Moonlight glanced at him with a nuanced expression and coughed lightly.

"...I think you should reflect on your own usual words and actions."

Firstborn version also nodded in agreement.

"+1, expecting others to learn only the good and not the bad is unrealistic; when you eat grapes quickly, it’s inevitable you’ll swallow a few peels."

Zero Rush was taken aback.

"Damn it, how can this be blamed on me?"

Two Ounces of Moonlight shook his head.

"Tsk tsk, see what I was saying?"

Mountain River Entering Dreams laughed heartily, patting Zero Rush on the shoulder.

"Relax a bit, it’s not a big deal... as long as you don’t enter folks’ homes, it’s all small stuff."

"God damn it, how long are you going to keep playing with this lame joke!?" Zero Rush gnashed his teeth in frustration, but there was nothing he could do.

But speaking of which, the local customs evolving might indeed have a little to do with the players.

The United Human language used by the players, in fact, greatly differed from that of the NPCs; it was somewhat like a translationese in another sense.

Apart from veteran players who had played for a long time or big shots who had in-depth interactions with NPCs, the United Human language used by most players was "bulk version."

That is, they learned a few pronunciations from the VM, and after listening to and using it enough, they stopped relying on translators. On one hand, the United Human language was extremely compatible, otherwise, it wouldn’t be able to adapt to the diverse cultures of the old era. On the other hand, the Game was so realistic that people couldn’t help but become addicted to it.

However, being able to use it and using it well were two different things. Even the rare experts were only really proficient in everyday conversational language, unable to understand specific jargon and cultural references and having to rely on context for understanding.

As for most ordinary players, of course, they went for whatever was convenient.

As long as the key words were used correctly, even if they used Chinese grammar, NPCs could understand them.

Jin Galun Port, in essence, was a settlement primarily transformed by the players, where a series of advanced concepts including equality had been brought over by the players from the harmonious society of reality.

Having enjoyed the benefits brought by modern civilization, the emerging class of civic-minded citizens in Jin Galun Port, along with the old aristocracy adapting to the trend, unconsciously leaned toward the Alliance’s "Iron Man."

Under this subtle influence, it ultimately led to the current situation.

That is, the Iron Men of the Burning Corps, with their bulk version of United Human language, "contaminated" the local language.

The situation was similar to Xiaoyu’s "Chuo."

It’s just an auxiliary word in speech, yet that quick learner treated it like a communication tool.

"Uh, rational analysis, you guys make some sense, but it’s not like I always say ’damn it’ or ’darn it’... and why hasn’t this kind of thing happened in City of Dawn?"

Faced with his buddy’s puzzled look, Two Ounces of Moonlight spoke confidently.

"That’s because the NPCs there mainly worship the Manager, worshipping you is just by extension, like Little Fish is the most typical example... and the players in City of Dawn come from a wider background, take Miss Teng Teng and Crow for instance, did you ever see them talking like you and using ’damn it’? They’re as civilized as me, okay!"

"You civilized my ass," Zero Rush rolled his eyes.

Two Ounces of Moonlight grinned mischievously.

"Hey, better than someone, can’t even leave kids alone."

"Damn it! @#@%!" Zero Rush was about to blow his fuse, cursing and grumbling as he got up.

These damn fools.

He just accidentally touched his head once, and though he clarified the misunderstanding afterward, the rumors kept getting more and more outrageous, resulting in everyone looking at him with contempt.

Watching the fuming Zero Rush, Mountain River Entering Dreams sighed.

"There’re just too many hotheaded guys in Jinjialun Port, if only we could invite Crow over."

At that moment, Firstborn, who usually didn’t talk much, suddenly shivered and spoke up.

"Better not... what if she comes here, thinks it’s all filthy, and goes to the Forum to tag the crappy planners about a pornography sweep?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at him at the same time.

Mountain River Entering Dreams: "What the heck?"

Two Ounces of Moonlight: "Explain ’all filthy’ in detail."

Zero Rush: "Fuck, I don’t understand, man! Hurry up and explain!"

Faced with those burning gazes, Firstborn subtly shifted his eyes away, coughing lightly.

"Let’s focus on the quest... we’ll talk about the paid stuff offline."

Mountain River Entering Dreams: "..."

Zero Rush: "@#%@!"

...

The Mouse Tribe’s surnames have thirteen different pronunciations, and coincidentally, Poluo Province also has thirteen states.

The state where Jinjialun Port is located is called Lowell state, which naturally got its name from the Lowell Camp in Jin Galun Port and is also the only state in Poluo Province "not related to animals."

The state of West Sail Port, located at the westernmost point and called Nasit State, means lion, while on the easternmost side, Wil State is bordered by Tiger State to the north, Leopard State to the west, and snakes to the south, with Poluo Sea to its right.

The widely spread belief among the local intelligentsia is that although the provinces borrow names from animals, what they actually worship—or seal—are the gods behind these animals.

Lowell might not be an animal, but it represents a totem buried in the hearts of every survivor in Poluo Province and is the only "human god" not among the thousand pillars.

Because every person is a "pillar," in other words, a walking "human pillar."

Or, said differently, a sacrifice.

However, if one considers Ms. Han Mingyue’s interpretation, there’s another meaning.

That is, two hundred years ago, Poluo Province was a large ecological reserve, and Lowell state was the only scientific observation point and resting place for tourists, while Tiger State was mainly the habitat of tigers and Leopard State for leopards, with different breeds of snakes, elephants, lions, cattle, wolves, and so on following in similar vein.

These wild animals were once the source of food for survivors over a long period, and after nearly hunting these wild animals to extinction, the locals sanctified them out of a sense of gratitude.

The influence of "Animal World" video materials further evolved into the belief system of a Thousand Tribes and Thousand Gods.

The two explanations are actually different perspectives, one is an analysis based on peeling the spiritual layers, and the other is a purely rational deduction based on scientific arguments.

The difference between them is roughly equivalent to an oil painting and a pencil sketch, both depicting the same apple, yet not entirely the same.

Currently, the entire northern region of Lowell State is under the control of the Tiger Army, while the west and southwest are under the control of the Black Panther Army.

The two armies have effectively become military factions, although they still receive military pay from the Empire’s court, in practice they have become detached in spirit from the Empire.

Their relationship is entirely maintained by money.

When the day comes that the Empire stops paying, these military factions will essentially tear off their last shred of face.

In fact, due to the Empire’s previous embargo strategy against Jinjialun Port and the countering measures taken by the Baiyue Corporation, the two major military factions on the border have already achieved "financial freedom" through the smuggling trade.

Moreover, it is not just financial freedom, but the productivity of their controlled areas has also been significantly improved.

This is not because these military officers understand governance well, but quite the opposite – most officers are clueless about governance, they don’t even want to govern, and are even less competent than the Empire’s civil officials.

But precisely because of this, these officers simply adopted a completely laissez-faire economic model, letting the merchants of Jinjialun Port and the local nobles handle it on their own.

Whoever pays, these military lords will give them the green light, even helping these merchants oppose the Empire’s appointed officials and going with guns to nobles’ estates to force buying and selling.

Such barbaric behavior is certainly unacceptable, and even seriously damages the Empire’s serf economy and tax revenue, and if it continues in the long term, it will ultimately harm the military factions themselves.

However, who asked these brutes to catch the good times, they inadvertently got a taste of the dividends from the development of Jinjialun Port.

Productivity and development levels have regional diffusion effects.

Some of the advanced production capabilities of Jinjialun Port would inevitably move in the opposite direction of the migration waves, feeding back to other areas in Lowell State, and even to Tiger State and Leopard State, which are adjacent to Lowell State.

After all, starting a dyeing workshop in Jinjialun Port, one had to pay workers 1600 Gallons of wages.

There will always be people who think of moving the sewing machines and dyeing vats they bought to places where labor costs are lower and the Alliance’s reach is not there to open a small workshop, intercepting a bit of profit from the production chain.

Don’t underestimate this bit of profit, one workshop may not make much, but a hundred workshops could catch up with a big factory.

And these "shop owners," different from factory owners, would also purchase machines to increase their productivity.

The increase in productivity not only led to the accumulation of wealth, but also changed the relationships between people, as well as between groups.

Especially as more and more old nobles tasted the sweetness of productivity improvements, and after being threatened with guns, they also began to seek the development of productivity.

The Black Panther Army used to rely on court grants for its provisions, but now, just the tax revenue from Banana Head Bay can support the local generals to feed their subordinates and even occasionally share some canned beef that the Alliance soldiers were tired of eating as benefits.

Everyday life is far more comfortable than when serving as the Empire’s dogs.

As for the Thousands of Leaders who had once held a gun to Ah Xin’s head, today he has to respectfully call Ah Xin "boss," as the latter had already connected with his superiors’ superiors and no longer needed to entertain a mere Thousands of Leaders.

But Ah Xin didn’t hold a grudge against him for the past, he even politely helped him operate a bit, letting this arrogant officer become a Ten Thousand Leader and helped him to marry the youngest daughter of a viscount noble family in Leopard State, even buying them a marriage house on Tulip Street in Jin Galun Port.

With money, status, and position, along with a flower-like beautiful young wife, that brute, who was even more uncouth than Laxi, naturally shed grateful tears, almost changing that "boss" to "dad."

And with the support of this Ten Thousand Leader and other high-level members of the Black Panther Army, Ah Xin’s business grew bigger and bigger, nearly monopolizing the entire cotton trade of Leopard State.

Although the cotton of Poluo Province cannot compete with the quality and yield of Baiyue Province, it wins in low cost and large volume, occupying a considerable market share in Jinjialun Port.

Even now that the cease-fire agreement has been signed and smuggling doesn’t fetch the high prices it once did, they can continue to do legitimate business through those fully developed ports and the money exchanged at the banks, and the profits might even be greater than before.

Despite the "radiative effect" of Jinjialun Port on other areas of Lowell state being significant, the development speed of other areas couldn’t catch up with that of Jinjialun Port itself, the only entry and export harbor on the East Coast.

Currently, the Baiyue Corporation effectively controls ten thousand square kilometers, which is only one-fortieth of the entire state, but thirty-nine fortieths of the wealth of the state is congregated in Jinjialun Port.

If one says that the interest distribution between the Alliance and Jinjialun Port is uneven, just like silver coins and Gallons, then the distribution of interests between Jinjialun Port and Lowell state, and even the entire Poluo Province, is even more extremely imbalanced.

Residents of Jinjialun Port have already mounted bicycles as swift as the wind, the children who are students have started pondering their place among the mountains, rivers, and streams, as well as where people should be in many years to come, but in Tiger State and Leopard State, there are still many eating cakes made of mud, forced to sell their sons and daughters in order to survive.

"Red Soil", following "L biography" and "The Diary of a Mad Mouse", finally serialized its third piece "Land", seeming on the verge of entering into that bloody main topic.

"Survivor’s Daily" from Jinjialun Port was almost sold out, some who were originally unaware of "Red Soil" read "Land" and turned back to buy the prior L and Mad Mouse.

Some merchants began to consider publishing a collection of this serialized short story, to spare people the trouble of cutting it out from the newspapers one by one.

They couldn’t reach Mr. Mouse, but they did receive a letter from Potato Harbor—

"You may publish at will, just donate my share to the United Federation."

This letter uplifted many youths of Jinga Lun as well as the members of the United Federation.

Mr. Mouse was right beside them!

And he was watching them!

A glimmer of dawn’s faint light seemed to appear on the horizon, the future looked bright.

Giant Stone City had only one "Awakener Bol", while they had thousands upon thousands.

Inspired by "Survivor’s Daily" and "Red Soil", young people turned their simple and even naive thoughts into poetry, into paintings, composed them into songs, becoming part of the hurried and bustling street scenes of Jinjialun Port.

On the foundational belief that "gods do not exist," they added another line of creed—

They need to unite.

Just like the residents of Giant Stone City!

Even though people have thousands of differing thoughts, there is one thought that is the same.

It is to pull out those thousand pillars!

And to smash the old shackles!

And just as a storm was brewing in Jinjialun Port, an angry young man with a quick temper finally met the army he had been longing for.

It could hardly be called an army, more like a group of refugees or bandits, even worse than when he attacked Lowell Camp before—

At least back then, he and his followers, those who dared to fight, still had some vigor and the bravery of common men.

It was such a group of people, scantily clad, holding farming tools in their hands, hiding in a desolate valley in Tiger State, an area tangled in the influence of the Tiger Clan and beyond noble reach, where they cleared some wasteland and survived on the hard-earned aid sent by their Moon people brethren, occasionally eating dirt, or harassing the local small nobility.

After all, the Moon people were numerous, and their men and women often beautiful, so the nobles had bought some Moon people as slaves or concubines. It was considered reasonable to rob them in the name of freeing their kin.

Moreover, since they only robbed people and food without killing, the matter wasn’t blown out of proportion, and some small nobles really had no way to deal with them. The larger nobles saw them as fleas, too lazy to care, and it also provided an opportunity to annex the land of smaller nobles and knock down property prices.

As for the Grey Wolf Army, the main force was on the border of Lowell state, and they were even lazier to bother with them.

These days, anyone with some strength was busy managing their own territory; who would spare the effort to help the Court eradicate bandits? Instead, this could be used to ask the Court for more money under the pretext of handling the Moon people.

It was also because of this that the Moon people thought they were well disguised, believing that pretending to be refugees fleeing the war would allow them to avoid the Tiger Army’s notice. But they couldn’t imagine that even Ah Xin, a gang leader far away in Jinjialun Port, could easily find them.

Everything was as pathetic as he had read in the battle reports.

Even the Tiger Clan Thousands of leaders who escorted him there joked that next time they met on the battlefield, if they didn’t want to fight, they should just throw their equipment on the ground and run, and that they could make money together.

What a disgrace!

"Fucking hell..."

Watching that group of young men sitting idly on the ridge, Laxi cursed through gritted teeth, violently drew his pistol from his waist, and pulled the trigger skyward.

"Bang!!"

The thunderous sound startled the Moon people working in the fields, who looked up to see a ferocious-looking man flanked by a group of malevolent figures, appearing as if they wanted to devour them.

Standing in the fields, a middle-aged man gazed at him, dumbfounded, until he recognized the face and his expression exaggerated as if he had seen a ghost.

"La... Laxi?!"

But Laxi didn’t even glance at him; he grabbed a young boy by the neck and yanked him out of the field like picking up a chicken, tossing the skinny boy onto the ground.

"Ow... it hurts, it hurts..." The boy cried out in pain, tears squeezing out of his eyes, but when the thug saw him crying, he kicked him in the butt.

"If you can’t take the pain, go back to your mommy and daddy, stop fooling around with these people! Go on, call your parents over here for me!"

The boy shrank back, fear written in his eyes.

"I don’t have parents... I was sold nearby, and the folks here saved me."

"No parents... huh, then dry your eyes, or I’ll send you to see them first!"

Letting go of the boy, Laxi glared fiercely at a farmer who tried to stop him, then turned to look at the Resistance Army soldiers approaching with guns.

The commotion at the village entrance had finally drawn some attention.

These idiots didn’t even know how to arrange a sentry, but at least they weren’t deaf and could hear the sound of his gun.

They watched him warily, with unfriendly expressions, guns in hand, but they dared not point their weapons at him.

Some of them recognized this brute, the same one who had taken down Lowell Camp and hung that officer from the tower.

No matter how much effort the Alliance had put in, no matter how many cannons and guns they provided, the camp was indeed taken by him.

Laxi ignored the fire sticks and just squinted at them.

"You’d rather be farming the land than fighting, huh? Look at you, pathetic. Are you planning to be supported by the girls from Potato Harbor for the rest of your lives, or by the Baiyue Corporation?"

A middle-aged man mustered his courage and stared him down.

"What do you mean by that!"

Laxi squinted at him.

"Are you the person in charge here?"

"I am—"

Before the man could finish speaking, he was slapped on the head by Laxi and fell into the field.

"You’re a fucking hammer!"

These were the words the Alliance instructor had cursed him with during training, and now he was throwing them back in this man’s face.

It was this man’s fault that Fang Chang had been transferred away!

At least, that’s what he believed.

The slap was loud and truly ignited the anger of the Resistance soldiers; one by one, the young men raised their gun barrels and aimed them at Laxi and the hundred or so officers behind him.

"No! Don’t shoot!"

The man who had fallen into the field, more concerned for others than for himself, cried out in shock to his fellow Resistance fighters.

But Laxi, as if the fire wasn’t big enough, stepped forward directly in front of the group of young men, grabbed one man’s gun barrel, and pressed it against his own chest.

"Come on! Shoot me! Kill your comrade who came to save you, come on!"

The young man’s face was pale, his hands shaking on the gun as if he might fire any moment.

Clearly, he hadn’t been on the battlefield much, hadn’t practiced much with guns, and had had little opportunity to do so.

After all, his safety was still on, he had merely chambered a round...

Seeing the cowardice in his eyes, Laxi snatched the gun from his hands, pressed it against the young man’s chest, and pushed him back two steps until he was stabilized by others.

"Hasn’t anyone fucking taught you? When you’re going to kill someone, you take off the safety, and the shoulder strap should be soldered to your shoulder. If anyone dares to grab your gun, use the bayonet to slash their face. Losing your gun on the battlefield means losing your life; you’re lucky it was taken by me."

Pairs of eyes were fixed on him, filled with anger, astonishment, shame, and guilt.

But there was also hope in the eyes of some, including the man who claimed to be in charge sitting in the field.

He knew better than anyone that they weren’t survivors from Potato Harbor or Jin Galun Port; what they needed wasn’t someone to lead them in tilling the land, they needed someone who could lead them to victory in battle!

Laxi scanned the crowd, not just the Resistance soldiers standing at the village entrance blocking his way, but also the farmers in the nearby fields who straightened up to watch him.

"If you want to keep farming, stay here and farm to your heart’s content. When you’re done being cowards, fucking rise up and follow me."

One Resistance officer swallowed hard and asked him,

"Where are we going to..."

"Going where?"

Laxi chuckled and, facing the dimming skies to the northeast, squinted slightly.

He had thought it through on the road.

Fighting the Tiger army was unrealistic; those guys were well-armed and had plenty of food, their combat power rivaling the Grey Wolf Army, and they were close to "dividing" the Grey Wolf Army at the border.

As the Alliance people said, fighting them would be like being treated as monsters to be farmed for XP.

They needed to open a new battlefield, and the best choice was the northeast corner of Poluo Province.

There, right next to the Zobar Mountains, over which lay Silver Moon Bay. A river named Tasang, flowing from the mountains, irrigated a floodplain known as Tasang Plain, where the marginalized ethnic groups of Poluo Province lived, along with some believers from Silver Moon Bay.

On the administrative map of the Empire, that land was named Mammoth State, sharing a freshwater source with Silver Moon Bay and possessing soil as fertile as Lowell state.

The most critical thing was the area’s remoteness from central authority and its proximity to the Alliance’s supply network.

Although underdeveloped, that very lack of development had its advantages.

Without a road network connecting to Tiandu and away from the edge of the Everflow River, loyalty to the royal Army and the supplies needed for the military were difficult to deliver to that region.

Another point was that a poor area had no shortage of military recruits!

Only there could he gather a large army. Rising up in Tiger State where the Tiger Clan was predominant would simply be suicide!

"Hiding in these backwoods you’ll eventually starve to death; if you want to live, follow me and fight our way to the sea!"