CHAPTER 834: CHAPTER 834: DONGSHI IMITATES XISHI

The news of Tiandu’s fall not only caused a sensation in the Poluo Province but also sent shockwaves through the Sticky Community Building in City of Dawn.

The most interesting part is that this disgrace wasn’t brought to light by the Alliance but by the Empire’s self-proclaimed "good relations" with the Bugra Free State.

The relationship here is somewhat convoluted, but it can still be clearly explained.

Since the Free State had always maintained good relations with the Army, and the Empire was an "ally" of the Army, Duke Garava always treated the Free State’s representatives as his own brethren.

And the businessmen of the Free State happened to be notoriously fond of silently amassing wealth.

They never chose their clients in business but only looked for profitable deals. Hence, it was naturally impossible for them to expose the Empire’s secrets actively, instead quietly hiding behind the Army and Alliance, secretly exploring the market of Poluo Province.

If not for a few senior salespeople from the Firestone Group being caught by rioters in Tiandu, causing a public outcry, the representative of the Free State would not have wanted to interfere.

As for Duke Garava, he was kept in the dark from beginning to end, only recently finding out that Witch Gu was no longer in Tiandu but had fled to Jinjaron Harbor.

When he learned that the Empire’s Tiandu had fallen into the hands of a bunch of rioters, his eyes widened in shock as he sat in the meeting.

He looked like a stranded goldfish.

"Nonsense! Tiandu... in the hands of rebels? How come I didn’t hear about it! What is your motive for saying this now?" He stood up angrily but could only come up with a nonsensical rebuttal.

The hall was filled with whispers, with surprised expressions written all over their faces.

These people were representatives from other small Survivor Forces, like Trash City and Dam City. They neither understood nor cared about what was happening in the Empire, only feeling puzzled.

However, the expression on Duke Garava’s face was intriguing.

Wasn’t it his own family’s affair? Why did it seem like he was hearing about it for the first time?

Looking at Duke Garava with a face full of indignation, as if wronged by betrayal, the representative of the Free State just shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright, treat what I said as nonsense... Although I didn’t expect you to help, based on your clueless response, I guess you don’t even know what’s happening in your own house."

The respectful "you" unconsciously turned into "you."

After pausing for a moment, he continued.

"We should use our own mercenaries to rescue people."

After saying this, the scene was filled with murmurs.

Duke Garava, being confronted, was so infuriated that his nose was crooked, and his shoulders couldn’t stop trembling. He pointed a finger at the arrogant, rude guy.

"You, do you know what you’re saying! Sending troops into the Empire’s territory is an infringement of the Empire’s sovereignty! It’s an invasion! If you dare let those mercenaries set foot on the Empire’s land, don’t expect them to return alive!"

"Tsk... you are the one not knowing what you’re saying, Mr. Garava."

Staring at the furious Garava, the representative of the Free State spoke with a hint of mockery.

And even ridicule.

"Even if it’s an act of sovereignty infringement, the sovereignty we are infringing on is that of the ’Yanush Empire,’ an illegal regime, so what does it have to do with West Winds? For us, employees are important assets of the Company. Since we’ve insured them, the insurance must be put to use."

After pausing, he looked at others in the meeting room, especially Cheng Yan, who sat in the Alliance seat, and Centurion Bennott in the Army seat.

These were the people who could truly speak.

"Can’t someone get this ’irrelevant person’ out of here? The West Winds Empire is already a historical term. What else can he do here besides shout?"

Centurion Bennott, sitting in the Army seat, was expressionless, his deep-set eyes looking as if he had stayed up for several nights, showing complete indifference to the Free State representative’s proposal.

He, too, was surrounded by troubles and had no time to care for his dog.

Cheng Yan glanced at Bennott, then looked at the Free State representative and Duke Garava with a pale face, and after a moment of silence, he gently cleared his throat.

"The seat of the Sticky Community was granted to the Residents of Poluo Province, not to a person or an organization, even if it’s a royal family... However, I don’t agree with canceling the seat of the West Winds Empire due to political turmoil, which violates the spirit of the Sticky Community and our established rules."

A gleam of hope appeared in Duke Garava’s eyes.

Although he didn’t like the Alliance and despised this "Manager’s shadow," he couldn’t help but smirk, feeling proud when hearing this guy speaking for him, provocatively glancing at the frowning representative of the Free State.

However—

His pride lasted less than two seconds before he fell into an abyss again because of Cheng Yan’s next statement...

"But given the current situation of the Empire, it is indeed unsuitable for them to continue attending the Sticky Community meetings. Even if they make a decision in the meeting, they have no capacity to fulfill their obligations... Therefore, I propose to temporarily freeze their seat until the Residents of Poluo Province select a representative organization or individual who truly represents their views, and then consider unfreezing the seat as per the situation."

This is entirely out of a normal and reasonable procedure.

After all, the Sticky Community is a mycology research institution, discussing collective affairs in the Wasteland Era. Currently, the Empire hasn’t even managed their own mess completely, and there is a potential risk of dragging the entire Wasteland into their internal conflicts.

Having such a crap-stirrer causing disturbances at the meeting would be detrimental both to themselves and to the others at the table.

Before fulfilling their obligation to end the Wasteland, the Residents of Poluo Province should first sort out their troubles.

Avoiding looking at the beseeching face of Duke Garava, Cheng Yan stated directly toward the front of the venue.

"Let’s vote."

Almost all representatives in the venue turned on the green light, with only the Academy abstaining.

Other than the Alliance, the Company might have cast affirmative votes out of pure goodwill, while the others were tinged with ill intentions.

After all, Duke Garava had always been arrogant and made no few enemies on behalf of the Empire.

The voting situation was precarious for the Empire.

Though Garava was very displeased with the Sticky Community, quitting of his own volition and being kicked out were entirely different things.

Hurting his dignity was worse than asking for his life...

Sweat dripping down his forehead, Duke Garava turned to Centurion Bennott for help, his pitiful expression like that of a drowning man grasping at the last straw above the water.

If the Army exercised the veto, all the deteriorating situation would reverse!

However, to his despair, his dear friend didn’t even spare him a glance, just sat there coldly.

That anti-red light...

Ultimately didn’t light up.

The Army abstained...

The Empire’s closest ally actually abstained!

Duke Garava felt the world spinning and slumped into his chair, his eyes blackened.

He won’t help me.

It’s over.

Everything is finished...

...

The meeting ended.

As the Free State representative wished, Duke Garava left the venue, carried out.

That guy’s heart wasn’t in good shape, but he’d rather spend his money on alcohol and women than have surgery.

Many in the meeting seats whispered and wondered whether he would make it this time.

Though it didn’t matter if he didn’t.

The Empire’s seat had been frozen, and it would no longer participate in discussions on the meeting agenda.

The most pleased was undoubtedly the newly joined South Sea Union representative.

The several hundred billion West Winds coins they borrowed had long been cashed out into silver coins at a discount.

If the Empire were to go bankrupt, those debts naturally wouldn’t need to be repaid...

After the meeting.

Bennott stood by the corridor window, pausing to look out at the City of Dawn.

Hearing footsteps beside him, he didn’t turn but casually spoke.

"Got a cigarette?"

"Yes."

Cheng Yan took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to the guy.

He lit the cigarette with a lighter, and Bennott held it in his mouth but didn’t smoke, simply squinting out the window, his face a mix of worry and confusion.

After a long while, he finally spoke.

"...There’s something I can’t figure out."

Cheng Yan, standing next to him, thought for a moment and then said.

"I can probably guess."

Bennott glanced at him, suddenly chuckled, smoke drifting from his nostrils.

"To be honest, I did borrow your method..."

"Are you talking about those rebels?" Cheng Yan was slightly stunned, then said with a wry smile, "You guys... what kind of borrowing is this? We never did such a thing."

"You know whether you did it or not, I can’t openly say it."

Bennott snorted, looking out the window, and suddenly a trace of resentment flashed in his eyes.

"But why?"

He clenched his fists tightly, as if he wanted to smash the windowsill with a punch, squeezing out the anger buried in his chest through gritted teeth.

"I gave them so many benefits, and so much assistance... Money! Arms! And the experience and techniques of struggle! Yet they turned around and stabbed us in the back!"

"Can you understand that feeling? It’s like when Laxi left the city, he didn’t rush to teach the Empire a lesson but instead set a fire at Jin Galun Harbor! If that’s the case, what would you think?"

He did discuss some things with Governor Hue.

Including getting in touch with some big figures in Triumph City, especially civil officials with ranks higher than his.

The entire plan was simple: retired old soldiers and officers of the Wolf Tribe would use the grievances of the people at West Sail Port to rebel, sacrifice some Imperial nobles as a rallying cry, then take control of all military supplies stalled in Lion State, and then use the roads and rail networks they built to directly capture Tiandu.

If things went well, the Empire might not even have a chance to react, and this "blood exchange surgery" could be completed without spilling much blood.

After all, the Empire had no defenses against the Army; their reliance on the Army reached an almost delusional level.

As for West Sail Port, it was no problem at all.

The Lion Clan nobles there were a bunch of ineffectual fools; they didn’t even need to select carefully to find a load of worthless individuals, who were no match for those old Gray Wolf Army veterans.

To create an opportunity for them, Governor Hue even took away his own Personal Body Guard.

And those opportunists among the wolves also promised them that, after gaining arms, they would only settle scores with the Empire’s nobles without touching the Empire’s Weilante people, and after everything was over, this "restraint" would be seen as a symbol of their mutual friendship...

However, the result was that those ingrates betrayed him without hesitation, choosing not to trust him, who at least kept faith generally, but instead opted to gamble big by collaborating with those even less trustworthy fellows – first building a lousy ship full of hatred and then betting they could switch to a new ship before it sank.

Now he was only thankful for one thing, that his daughter Penny was not there.

Though she didn’t board Governor Hue’s ship, he managed to persuade her to leave for Evernight Harbor before everything happened.

Cheng Yan glanced at him.

Even though Bennott didn’t spell things out, the general idea was clear.

This guy wanted to replicate a "Laxi" in West Sail Port.

However, this guy clearly misunderstood something.

Even though, from the results, the emergence of Mammoth State did align with the Alliance’s interests, the Alliance really didn’t actively export anything to the people there.

Including the Survivor’s Daily at Jin Galun Harbor, and the serialized "Red Soil" anthology in the newspaper, weren’t all of these the voices of the local survivors themselves?

"Do you think Laxi hates us? Do the residents of Jin Galun Harbor hate us? Or... does Laxi hate the residents of Jin Galun Harbor?"

"..." Bennott remained silent for a long time, unable to answer the question.

Cheng Yan continued.

"What if I tell you that we never supported the Mammoth State and the Moon Clan Resistance Army, and we even advised them not to rush, believing everything should be taken step by step... do you believe it?"

The Manager is someone who disdains using conspiracies.

That gentleman’s most decisions are indeed overt schemes, Cheng Yan is utterly clear on this.

Despite rumors that Laxi was guided by some significant figure, or received some backing that led him to decisively resign and head north, the truth was quite the opposite.

That guy did something that caught everyone off guard – gambled almost impossible victory with his and others’ lives.

But it was precisely that act that woke many within the Alliance.

Not everything would unfold according to their planned slow progress.

They couldn’t be as willful as before, heedless in making decisions, they must carefully consider every choice.

Bennott still had a look of disbelief on his face, but was not as sure as before.

"...Laxi wasn’t ordered by you guys?"

Cheng Yan looked at him seriously.

"I can swear to the Manager."

"..."

Bennott didn’t speak, just stared out the window, smoking alone.

Turns out he wasn’t...

No wonder he couldn’t replicate it.

People are animals attracted by scent, gamblers are destined to only band with other gamblers, then get eyed by bigger gamblers, losing the hard-won chips again.

Though he wasn’t at a dead-end yet, Bennott suddenly felt exhausted, even developing the urge to retire early, losing the aggressiveness and vigor of the past.

The lonely eyes, as if aged ten years in an instant...

...

While Bennott continued smoking one cigarette after another, Duke Garava, who was carried into the hospital, was finally revived under the rescue of Alliance doctors.

"...Lucky you came 5 minutes early, any later, and nobody could have saved you."

Vaguely hearing voices, he struggled to open his eyes and saw the doctor’s face.

Though his stubborn nature never bowed to anyone, he couldn’t help but soften his tone and lower his brows to the doctor who saved his life.

"Thank you..."

"You’re welcome, saving people is my job, and my mission," the doctor wearing a white coat glanced at him, then at the equipment on the side, couldn’t help but add another sentence, "If you can afford it, I’d still suggest getting a bionic heart... continuing like this will be the end sooner or later."

Garava’s eyes showed some struggle, fine sweat beads seeping through his pale forehead, seemingly in hesitation.

Changing a heart...

Wouldn’t that mean having a chest opened up?!

Of course.

Of course, he’s not afraid of pain.

It’s just... what if that Manager wants his life and arranges for someone to stab him secretly?

Seeing this guy scare himself again, the doctor quickly said.

"We will perform anesthesia, the whole process won’t hurt..."

"No need, Doctor," Duke Garava weakly smiled and interrupted him, "I’m fine... thank you for saving my life."

"..."

The doctor looked blankly at this stubborn old man, finally shook his head, and turned to leave the room.

Watching the doctor leave, Niyan at the door quickly asked.

"How is Duke, sir?"

The doctor replied succinctly.

"The situation is basically stable... if you really care about him, you should persuade him to have the surgery as soon as possible."

"I will persuade him." Niyan nodded, told the doctor to take care, and then walked into Duke Garava’s ward.

When he walked in, Duke Garava, lying on the bed, was staring intently at the ceiling.

Hearing footsteps at the door, he slightly turned his face, then moved that dazed gaze back, staring at the ceiling, and said dejectedly.

"I feel like I’m not sick... I wasn’t like this before, I was quite healthy before, but since I came to the Alliance... it seems everything has changed."

Seeing the Duke’s morbid appearance, Niyan also sighed with sympathy, but finally placed the resignation letter he had prepared on the bedside table, then poured a glass of hot water for the Duke, speaking in a comforting tone like coaxing a child.

"Indeed, the Alliance is rotten."

"They shouldn’t have ended the Wasteland Era, nor should they have let the people on the Wasteland see the hope of a new era’s arrival."

"Everyone will die eventually, drowning in reality and drowning in a dream makes no difference... it’s just people’s different choices, we all want to leave something in this world."

Duke Garava looked at him blankly, suddenly feeling that this servant seemed a bit unfamiliar.

Is this... his Niyan?

"For the sake of our acquaintance, I advise you to replace your heart. Even if you always feel that the Manager wants your life... now that the Empire is finished, you will soon no longer be a diplomat, no one will want to harm you anymore."

You already have no value to be harmed...

Niyan looked at him with pity, but finally didn’t say the most hurtful words.

"Shut up...! You rat, what do you know!" Lying on the bed, Garava widened his eyes, staring intensely at this familiar yet unfamiliar servant, his peripheral vision suddenly noticing the piece of paper on the bedside table.

"And what’s that... a newspaper?"

Niyan answered truthfully.

"It’s a resignation letter."

Garava’s eyes were full of bloodshot, his eye sockets gradually reddening, staring at him.

"Res-resignation?!"

"That’s right," Niyan nodded, "Thank you for your care all along, but when one has the ability to distinguish right from wrong, they are no longer satisfied with being a slave, I choose to follow my true self."

Garava angrily sat up from the bed, grabbed that resignation letter and tore it into pieces, throwing it fiercely onto his legs.

"A slave resigning, unheard of! I tell you, Niyan, I am your master! What I grant you is yours, without my consent, you can forget about leaving!"

That hysterical voice was both like a roar and a plea.

Niyan originally thought he would say some harsh words in the end to return the humiliation he had suffered.

However, looking at this old man who had lost everything, those harsh words couldn’t come out again.

In fact, he’s also a pitiable person.

Born with a silver spoon, he has heard countless flattery in his life, yet no one has ever genuinely respected him, either blindly obeying his foolishness or deliberately acting ignorant.

Niyan nodded slightly, as a final respect.

"You misunderstood, Mr. Garava, I’m not resigning as a slave, but resigning from all my positions in the Empire..."

He paused, then pulled out that ID card from his pocket.

"The Alliance has no slaves, I was never a slave, and there’s nothing for me to resign from."

The Alliance’s ID card...

With a dried throat moving up and down, Duke Garava was thoroughly hopeless.

Seemingly losing the reason to be angry.

This time he unusually didn’t lose his temper, just looked dejectedly at the one who was turning to leave.

"Where are you going..."

Niyan stopped his steps but didn’t look back.

"To Poluo Province."

"To a place where I’m needed."

...

Yesterday, the editing department of our newspaper received a telegram from the direction of Tiandu.

The telegram claimed that remnants of the old Empire had been completely eliminated by the Heavenly King Army, and the new Empire would be led by Heavenly King Anush, adopting a constitutional monarchy, abolishing royal privileges and slavery, promoting the idea of equality for all, leading the residents of Poluo Province towards a brighter future.

Currently unable to confirm the identity of the sender of this telegram, but based on the content, it should be someone related to the Heavenly King Army, or at least authorized by its high ranks.

Since our newspaper has no branch in Tiandu, we cannot know the specific situation there for the time being.

However, according to reporters stationed in Elephant State, from the descriptions of refugees fleeing from Tiandu, the local situation seems quite grim.

The Heavenly King Army is conducting "systematic" liquidation of the remnants of the old Empire, and this liquidation is not based on explicit legal standards, most of the time relying on the "intuition" of senior or intermediate officers in the governing area, and Anush himself seems to have no intention to intervene.

This newspaper tried to contact the Governor’s Mansion in Jin Galun Harbor, but there has been no more information from the Governor’s Mansion.

However, based on the limited clues, the announced "abolition of slavery" and "equality for all" by Anush seemingly does not apply to the Sun Clan and the old Empire nobility...

Wasteland Era, 214, January 15th, Survivor’s Daily Jin Galun Harbor Edition reports to you.

]

Jin Galun Harbor.

In the noodle shop in the port area, a group of diners read the newspaper while eating.

The illiterate dockworker listened to the literate clerk read off the newspaper, eventually frowning, slapping his thigh, and grumbling.

"This Anush isn’t any good either... this approach is too extreme!"

The onlookers around also nodded, agreeing.

"Yes indeed."

"A bit too extreme..."

"This Anush doesn’t seem like a good guy either... luckily, I haven’t donated yet."

Looking at these sycophantic guys, the clerk holding the newspaper couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

"Aren’t you a supporter of the Heavenly King?"

The short-haired docker forced a smile and looked aside evasively.

The coworker sitting next to him coughed and defended him.

"I support him fighting the Empire, but I never supported him massacring the city... nor the Weilante people."

This comment won another round of agreement.

"Indeed..."

"Credit where credit’s due, and criticism when it’s deserved!"

"Exactly!"

The person who was reading the newspaper shook his head and put the paper away.

"I’m not against it, but there should be a standard, right? Switching between good and bad at random is not logical."

Someone watching the commotion also chimed in with a smile.

"You guys are really hard to please. Finally, someone comes around to your way of thinking, and you still demand their thoughts be identical to yours. Why don’t you just do it yourselves; taking action beats giving orders from the sidelines."

Just as a quarrel was about to break out among the crowd, a shout came from the doorway.

"There’s something in the sky!"

Upon hearing the exclamation, all the diners dropped the conversation and their chopsticks, ignoring the noodle shop attendant’s protests, and rushed to the entrance.

"What is it?"

"Let me see!"

"Whoa!"

Everyone looked up at the sky in unison, seeing a line of pale blue arcs streak across the heavens.

Those who knew what it was immediately recognized it as the plume from a plasma engine!

"A plane! It’s an alliance plane!" the expert exclaimed with excitement, pointing to the sky.

Upon hearing this, almost everyone who had stopped and looked skyward had a look of joyous surprise on their faces.

The Alliance has come!

They’re back!

...

The adrenaline-pumping BGM filled the cabin, trying to drown out the roar of the plasma engines.

Sitting in the cabin, using his little finger to unblock his ear, [By Some Mistake] couldn’t help but complain.

"Damn it... I remember the company’s Tiger Whale didn’t roar this loud."

[No Family] grinned and said.

"You’re right, but the Overlord Transport Aircraft is a large aircraft independently developed and produced by the Alliance—"

[Half-year Wasting Time] covered his mouth.

"Alright, I know you’ve played Wasteland OL."

Step Into the Sky: "?"

As the four of them were making noise, Old White, clad in power armor, shouted in the communication channel.

"Brothers, we’ve arrived at the East Coast of Poluo Province, above Jin Galun Harbor!"

"The army wants to teach us a lesson, but we’ll show them some color instead. If they dare forget their previous wounds in the desert, let me remind them!"

"Hahaha!" There was a peal of laughter in the cabin, and Old White grinned a bit before regaining his serious expression and continued.

"Remember, we represent the alliance’s strongest corps! Keep the Player’s Handbook and corps discipline in mind; don’t take even a needle or thread from the common people. I don’t care what sneaky ideas you have; since you chose to sit here, remember the rules!"

The decisive voice dropped, and the communication channel echoed with a high-spirited shout.

"Yes!"

The benefits of the Burning Corps are the highest of the whole server, covering equipment and leveling up, along with a salary. Once you’ve joined, there’s hardly any worry in game life or real life.

But relatively, the standards for entering the Burning Corps are also the highest across the server. Having the level isn’t enough; one also needs to obey command and follow discipline.

Although the rules are somewhat strict, even harsh, very few people complain.

After all, enjoying the benefits comes with corresponding obligations, which is quite fair.

If you want to have fun, you can form your own group to play.

Mosquito Brother, for instance, was once with the Burning Corps, but later found it too serious. So he left to form a more relaxed Goblin Corps. They’re still buddies, cooperating often, and not letting different game interpretations impact the friendship.

The White Bear Knights similarly split off from the Storm Corps and are gradually growing.

The Alliance’s initial corps are like Novice Villages, with many powerful solo players having emerged from these corps.

Just as the leader finished his words, [No Family] laughed and shouted.

"Boss, can we parachute down? I just want to make a flashy entrance; that’s not against the rules, right?"

He saw people waving to him below, and it would be a shame not to make a glamorous entry.

Old White laughed and shouted back.

"You go ahead and jump; I’ll open the hatch."

No Family hurriedly said.

"No! Bro, at least fly higher; otherwise, I’ll become a splatter down there."

[By Some Mistake]: "Hahaha!"

The cabin was filled with playful banter, giving the rousing BGM a different hue.

Fang Chang’s mouth couldn’t help but curl up into a smile as he looked at the vibrant settlement outside the cabin window.

It had been a while since he last returned.

The changes here were quite significant, almost to the point where even he, the designer, barely recognized it...

The Jin Galun Port Authority had built a new military base for them in the suburbs.

As for the former Lowell Camp near the port area, it had been converted into a museum, even importing two service-type androids from the company to serve as guides.

"Speaking of which, do you remember what this place was like a year ago?"

Hearing Fang Chang’s voice, Old White grinned.

"I don’t remember, you know me; I’m a forward-thinking person. Compared to last year, I’m actually more curious about one year from now."

Fang Chang smiled and said.

"Oh? Then what do you think this settlement will become a year from now?"

"Haha, that depends on what the local survivors think. All we can do is give them a hand; it’s not like we can carry them forward."

Narrowing his eyes as he looked out the cabin window, Old White added.

"... No matter what it becomes, we just don’t want it reverting back."