CHAPTER 819: CHAPTER 819: PAWNS OF THE POWERFUL

With a feeling of "not shedding tears until seeing the coffin," Yarman took the shuttle bus from No.1 Settlement to the ruins of Haibei City, completing the last hundred kilometers of his journey.

As expected, when the centurion saw that piece of paper in his hand, he rolled his eyes.

"Whoever wrote this paper for you to find, go find them, or go ask General Lucien."

Thinking you could buy a ton of military supplies for ten thousand dinars... At this rate, a tank would only cost over five hundred thousand!

The price given by the Alliance is more than three times this number when converted to dinars!

This guy wants to slash the price with just a piece of paper, dream on!

Yarman, still not giving up, asked.

"Then... where is he?"

Anthony replied impatiently.

"On the Loyalty Airship, if not at Ten Peaks Mountain, then he’s gone west for the new year."

Actually, the question was entirely redundant; what victorious general wouldn’t return to Triumph City to bask in the glory?

The army did gain quite a bit from this battle.

Although they couldn’t get their hands on the "Perfect Life Form" technology controlled by Torchbearers, the gene samples collected were enough to keep the technical officers of various research institutes busy for a while.

No surprise if this time General Lucien could rise to the rank of three-star Ten Thousand Leader.

The last hope was also shattered.

Yarman’s mouth twitched slightly but he finally collected that stack of useless paper.

He vowed.

He would frame this thing, hang it in the most conspicuous spot in the study, and have the family motto passed down in his handwriting—

Only pigs trust the promises of the Weilante People!

At this time, if he hadn’t listened to Governor Hue’s call and instead done the opposite, sending the fleet along the original route to deliver tea and sugar to Triumph City, he might have made a hefty profit from the late deliveries of goods from Poluo Province!

And because it was a familiar route, he didn’t need to personally go out to sea with the ship. That way, he could stay by his family’s side and peacefully spend the most important holiday of the year, instead of watching the faces of this group of big soldiers and being kicked around like a soccer ball among a bunch of bigwigs.

He was about to turn and leave when he suddenly noticed that the exoskeletons he saw at the pier were also here.

Not only that—

Those wearing the exoskeletons didn’t seem to be Vellante soldiers but their enslaved servants.

Yarman stopped in his tracks and curiously asked.

"...It’s strange, do you have so many exoskeletons here that even slaves can use them?"

If there’s so much, he might as well sell them to him.

Anthony’s expression suddenly turned slightly awkward, and he cleared his throat before speaking.

"... They’re not slaves, they’re hired."

Hired?

Yarman was taken aback for a moment, and instinctively asked.

"...How much?"

Anthony explained.

"Not expensive, 8 silver coins an hour."

At the moment he heard this number, Yarman’s eyes almost popped out.

"What?! You actually pay them 8 silver coins an hour! Are you crazy?!"

Even with the highest exchange rate, where one dinar equals three silver coins, that’s still 24 dinars!

According to this conversion rate, wouldn’t people here earn more in a day than the workers at West Sail Port do in a month?!

"Are you really short of people here?" Yarman’s eyes lit up, and he continued to ask eagerly.

Seeing the fiery gaze of this guy, Anthony felt a shiver down his spine.

"Short? We’re indeed short... Ahem, calm down, I know what you’re thinking, but according to the Sticky Community’s agreement, we can’t use the Alliance’s transportation system to transport slaves here, so even if we’re short, there’s nothing we can do—"

"We have ships!" Yarman was so excited his whole body was trembling, "How many do you need? I’ll bring them over for you!"

Anthony rolled his eyes.

"You think I haven’t thought about sea routes? It’s useless; this whole region to the north is counted as our ’enclave.’ Unless you airlift the slaves over, any passage through Alliance territory would get them seized. Moreover, the trouble doesn’t stop there. They don’t recognize the legality of personal freedom contracts, so once the slaves escape into their territory, they become Waste Land Wanderers, you know what I mean?"

Yarman was dumbfounded for a long time, before he finally chuckled bitterly.

"You guys... so obedient to them?"

"What do you mean by obedient to them?"

Anthony, dissatisfied with his wording, glanced sideways at him.

"This is called negotiation, both sides taking a step back on terms acceptable to both, resolving conflicts through dialogue, after all, if it actually turned into a fight, it wouldn’t benefit anyone. But if you think we’re afraid of them, you’re really overthinking it... Alright, if there’s nothing else, you can get lost."

Yarman: "..."

...

The Vellante People are relatively polite to their own, at least not resorting to gun stocks for a few unpleasant remarks.

However, the fact that Merchants have low status is undeniable.

The civil official group is not very popular in itself, let alone the merchants supported by those civil officials.

Despite Yarman wanting to try negotiating, the centurion responsible for that area had no intention of wasting time with him and directly drove him away.

Yarman had no choice but to board the vehicle returning to Death Coast.

The setting sun slanted westward, casting a long shadow from the gates of No.1 Settlement.

The once sparsely populated pier was now packed with ships, a bustling sight as far as the eye could see.

But looking at the empty decks, one could tell that most of the people who arrived today had worked in vain.

Dragging his weary body back to the port, Yarman happened to see his crew letting loose at the bar entrance by the port, drinking until they’re supporting themselves against the walls even in broad daylight.

Although most houses here are container crates, many Waste Land Wanderers like to do some small business, such as selling homemade cocktails or rolled cigarettes. As long as it’s not contraband, the Alliance’s guards won’t mind too much.

Yarman suddenly felt a bit envious of these guys who were drunk to the point of being oblivious.

He used to think these wretches had no future, their wages disappearing within days on alcohol or women, never expecting to marry, let alone achieve financial freedom... But now he reckons, at least they don’t have to worry about whether the next trade might end up losing everything.

Unlike himself, they only need to go to sea to get paid and can search for fun once ashore. Unlike him who’s always frowning, ultimately having his pockets cleaned out all the same, how does he differ from them now?

Thinking of the bills waiting back home, Yarman felt his scalp tingle in fear and couldn’t bring himself to think about them, only muttering to his followers and bodyguards nearby.

"Damn it... Let’s have a few drinks!"

Seeing their boss in a bad mood, the few exchanged glances but didn’t know how to comfort him, so they simply followed him to the busiest bar nearby.

Unlike other small Waste Lands-themed bars, this place was one of the few built with bricks and cement. Standing at the bar was a One-Eyed Robot, and the clock above the bar was actually a holographic display, showing the taste of the bar’s owner.

Alongside port workers, there were some guys who just got off the ships drinking here.

Seeing the dejected face of these guys, Yarman felt a bit of solace, at least he wasn’t the only sucker.

The whole port was filled with Vellante people who lost money, sitting at tables and pouring beer into their guts know succession.

"Damn it!"

"That dog Hue! And that Bennott, none of these civil officials can be trusted!"

"Absolutely disloyal!"

"Hope the Mutants extend their regards to his entire family!"

Before they set sail, their praises were extravagant; now, their curses are equally vicious.

Merchants like Yarman, who have their own teams, are few; most people’s ships are rented.

Especially many people were counting on this trade to make a comeback, having pawned whatever they could and borrowed a significant sum from the bank at West Sail Port, renting every available ship at the port.

But now they’ve returned empty-handed; all unused equipment on the front line has been monopolized by something called "Goblin Technology."

For these people, it really feels like life or death.

Sitting at the bar, Yarman ordered a beer, finding his bodyguards and followers annoying, so he sent them off to the side.

Seeing the large beer mug on the table with a capacity of a full liter, he was about to gulp it down in one go when suddenly someone spoke to him.

"Hey."

Yarman glanced sideways, seeing an unfamiliar face, he frowned and asked.

"Who are you?"

It was a young fellow wearing a gray jacket made of rhino skin.

Grinning, he settled on the adjacent stool somewhat familiarly and said in a chatty manner.

"Zhang Ze, came here slightly earlier than you, handling some affairs around the port."

Not waiting for this guy to ask what exactly he was up to, Zhang Ze continued without pause.

"Vellante people are rare here; most of your compatriots are on the side of Haibei City. Are you here to take them home?"

Yarman replied impatiently.

"Does that concern you?"

Zhang Ze chuckled and replied.

"Not at all, I’m just curious, after all, it’s indeed rare to see empty vessels coming here. This port is like a hungry Dead Claw, it can even digest container crates... Is there treasure here?"

Hearing this, Yarman’s brow twitched fiercely, and he slapped his right hand on the bar and stood up.

"Are you fucking here to pick a fight?"

As soon as his hand hit the bar, the followers and bodyguards at the adjacent table also stood up.

Seeing the guy lose his temper, Zhang Ze quickly stood up, raising both hands to show he meant no harm.

"Calm down, brother... I know you might have lost quite a bit, but since it’s lost, why not hear me out?"

Despite the anger simmering in his heart, seeing the eyes in the bar on him, Yarman suppressed his rage, motioned to his bodyguards, and after calming his pounding chest, sat back on his stool.

"Then let’s see what ivory you can produce from your mouth."

Zhang Ze smiled, shamelessly sitting back beside him, lowered his voice, and continued.

"...Ivory I can’t produce, but I do have a way for you to earn back the lost money."

"Oh?" Yarman smirked, casting a mocking look, "Are you saying dragging those broken containers to West Sail Port will earn a fortune?"

Disregarding the skeptical gaze, Zhang Ze shook his head and said casually.

"Of course not... That wouldn’t earn much."

Yarman sneered again, lifted his mug, and took a sip.

"I doubt there’s a higher-profit specialty around here."

Zhang Ze said patiently.

"Indeed there’s no such specialty, it’s still a developing area. But because of this, there’s quite a demand for certain things, for instance... people."

Yarman’s brows slightly furrowed.

"People? But I heard the Alliance prohibits Slave trading."

"You’re right, but that’s not entirely true," Zhang Ze nodded, smiling, and continued, "The Alliance only disclaims Slave contracts but doesn’t prohibit another, more euphemistic way of restricting personal freedom."

Yarman snorted dismissively.

"For example?"

"Like debt, particularly debt relationships within reasonable bounds, which the Alliance recognizes."

Hearing this unexpected answer, Yarman was momentarily dumbfounded.

"...What do you mean?"

Zhang Ze smiled and continued to speak.

"The point is, if you casually pull out an IOU claiming someone owes you money they couldn’t repay in a lifetime, the relevant departments of the Alliance won’t acknowledge it. In fact, they might even investigate you for any issues... I mean, what kind of lunatic would lend money knowing the other party can’t repay in their lifetime?"

"But in another scenario, if you present an IOU with a reasonable explanation of how the debt occurred and confirm that the borrower can repay the debt within 20 or 10 years without affecting their livelihood... then the Alliance acknowledges the debt."

"I don’t understand what you’re saying." Yarman frowned, "Are you in the loan business? I don’t need a loan right now, nor do I have spare money for such ventures."

"No, no, no, I’m not in the loan business, but... I’m very interested in another business." Zhang Ze placed a hand on his shoulder and said enticingly, "Look, there’s a severe lack of people here. We need to build ports, railways, cities, and streets, everywhere needs manpower... and coincidentally, thousands of kilometers away, there’s a place with an abundance of people. If we buy them over—"

Yarman mocked.

"You can’t trade in slaves here, will you set them free after buying them?"

"That’s why you need to change your mindset. Why don’t we find a way to transform their slave contracts into debt contracts? Are you really so fond of being called ’master’?"

Seeing Yarman stunned, Zhang Ze patiently continued to explain.

"The operation itself is quite simple, we can register a labor agency in the Alliance, a loan company, and then register a labor dispatch company at West Sail Port. We can purchase healthy slaves from the Nobles, or assist those free men who have already redeemed themselves."

"Of course, this isn’t without conditions—we’re just giving them a second chance at life, and they need to pay for it themselves."

"A redemption fee of 1000 Dinars, a settlement fee of 3000 Dinars, a ticket and travel expenses totaling 10,000 silver coins plus 3% interest, the total debt over 20 years amounts to nearly 30,000 silver coins. Sounds daunting, doesn’t it? But spread over each month, that’s only 125 silver coins!"

"I think this profit margin is sufficient, and we might even waive their labor agency and financial service fees depending on the situation."

"Of course, if later on they do well, want to redeem their family, or send money back home to support them, we could offer similar services."

"Even a monthly 125 silver coins is scary..." Yarman clicked his tongue, swallowed a mouthful of rich beer, and even his speaking tone subconsciously turned polite.

If you bring 10,000 people here, wouldn’t you earn over 1.2 million silver coins each month?!

And it can be collected for 20 years!

Though it can’t compare to the profits from military arms, it’s still quite staggering.

Thinking Yarman was worried the workers couldn’t afford it, Zhang Ze laughed and patted his shoulder.

"All the money in West Sail Port is taken by you big-nosed folks, so they obviously can’t pay. But this is under the turf of our respected Manager, even without arms or legs, you could borrow money to attach a limb. As long as you’re willing to work, earning over a thousand silver coins a month is easy... so, are you in or not?"

Understanding the business clearly, Yarman didn’t hesitate long, downed half a glass of beer in one go, and slammed the glass on the table.

His once weary eyes now shone with ambition and determination.

"I’m in! Damn it... I’ve at least got to recoup the costs of this deal."

If this deal succeeds, perhaps the banks at West Sail Port might loosen the noose around his neck!

Damn it!

Once he earns the money, he’s determined to pay off all the loans!

Seeing Yarman regain his spirit, Zhang Ze finally showed a satisfied smile.

Having saved enough money to register a company from working on the docks these few days, if this succeeds, reaching the pinnacle of life will be just around the corner!

"Wait a moment, my partner is about to arrive..."

"Partner? You have another partner?" Yarman raised an eyebrow, showing an interested expression.

Zhang Ze glanced at the time on the holographic clock, then looked towards the door, smiling.

"Of course, I can’t handle such a big deal alone, and actually, the labor export idea was brought by my partner from the neighboring North Island... the people have arrived over there."

Yarman followed his line of sight and saw four people in Blue Jackets standing at the door.

Seeing this, a look of surprise appeared on his face.

It’s the Blue Ground Squirrels?!

Goodness!

This deal is solid!

Although he doesn’t like the Alliance and was recently screwed by Goblin Technology from the Alliance, having them as allies is a different matter.

No one complains about having reliable allies.

The four scanned the bar and quickly saw Zhang Ze waving at them, then walked straight over.

Yarman immediately sported a sophisticated smile, extended his right hand to the approaching friends.

"I am Yarman, a Merchant from West Sail Port, may I ask who you are?"

The man at the front mirrored the enthusiasm, gripping his right hand.

"I’m known as Far-sighted Eagle, and this here is Brother Wolf... we’re all Residents of Shelter No. 404, our names might sound odd, please don’t mind."

"Hello."

Brother Wolf nodded, his stern and quiet demeanor made him appear like a master hiding his true strength.

But in fact, he acted this way simply because he hadn’t learned much of the United Human language.

The Strength type could be annoying.

Early on, the Intelligence attribute was too low, barely three points, making it feel like playing as an idiot.

Such strange names...

But knowing they came from a refuge made Yarman not surprised.

"And... who are these two?"

His gaze focused on the two friends behind Brother Eagle and Brother Wolf.

They seemed to be also refuge residents, and he politely inquired about their names.

Yet, for some reason, all four of them simultaneously displayed subtle expressions.

Brother Eagle coughed dryly.

"You don’t need to worry about these two... just pretend they don’t exist."

"Hey! What do you mean ’don’t exist’!" [Stick Brother] gave him a stare, then with a smile greeted the Weilante people in front of him, stammering yet earnest, "I’m Stick, my brothers call me Brother Stick, and that guy is Manager, you can call him Manager Brother or Manager Bro."

Guide Dog: "???"

Yarman’s brows involuntarily twitched; he felt these few guys in front of him were unreliable, but he decided to observe first before drawing a conclusion.

So, he looked over at Zhang Ze and opened his mouth to speak.

"When are we leaving?"

Zhang Ze glanced at Brother Eagle, then at Yarman, and said with a smile.

"I’m fine with whenever. After all, I’m just here at the port. You guys decide the departure time."

Yarman looked at the four Residents of the refuge. The one leading, Far-sighted Eagle, immediately said.

"The sooner, the better. I don’t want to stay here for another moment... If we head back now, we might make it for next month’s birthday."

Yarman suddenly remembered something.

"Oh right, I need to buy a souvenir for my daughter... Is there a shop nearby?"

The four players were stunned for a moment, looking at each other in disbelief.

"A souvenir’s alright... But what kind of souvenir is there here?"

"How about buying a doll?" Dog Brother suggested.

"That’s too bland," Stick Brother shook his head, "You might as well fill a bottle with sand and take it back."

Warrior Wolf tapped on his VM, checked the translation, and then stuttered suddenly.

"How about a Mutant specimen? The mutants here are pretty special, like those with long fins."

The other three were shocked when they heard this.

"Wow, man."

"Damn!"

"That’s so out there!"

"That’s not okay..." Barely understanding their conversation, Yarman said awkwardly, "I once sent a specimen made from a mutant’s head, but my Little Ruby didn’t like it... My wife didn’t either; she said it looked creepy at night."

Far-sighted Eagle: "...?"

Pipe Dog: "..."

Crap Stick: "Impressive..."

Listening to this conversation, Zhang Ze couldn’t help but cover his forehead and pat it, suddenly coming up with an idea.

"How about taking some photos? Your kid probably hasn’t been to the Wasteland, right? The scenery here is quite unique."

Yarman’s eyes lit up upon hearing this, and he excitedly hugged Zhang Ze’s shoulders.

"My friend, you’re so smart! Why didn’t I think of that!"

Far-sighted Eagle gave his shoulder a pat.

"Then quickly go and take one; the sun is about to set, and it’s not like North Island or Potato Harbor here with all the streetlights; you won’t see anything once it’s dark."

The group noisily left the Bar, rushing to take quite a few Photos before the sun completely set, capturing the dusk scenery of the No.1 Settlement.

Standing on the deck of the cargo ship about to set sail, Yarman fiddled with the Polaroid camera bought from the port’s general store, then suddenly let out a silly laugh, scratching the back of his head.

"Why didn’t I think of this idea before... Photography, what a good idea."

The camera wasn’t considered anything rare, and he had been to more interesting settlements than this.

If he had captured them all, those photos would likely cover an entire Wall by now.

What a pity!

As he was talking, he took another picture of the setting sun on the sea.

"No worries, it’s not too late to start recording now; the road of life is long..." Far-sighted Eagle patted his shoulder like an old sage, earnestly posing as he practiced his not yet fluent United Human language.

"That’s true..."

Yarman grinned, putting away the camera.

He suddenly felt that these Residents of the refuge weren’t that annoying; putting aside their standings, being friends with them was actually quite fun.

These people had quick minds and always came up with some whimsical ideas... including that rumored space elevator under construction.

He couldn’t imagine these people calling him ’lord,’ and if that ever happened, it might be quite disappointing.

The crew who hadn’t had their fill of drinks boarded the deck through the gangway one by one. After the captain finished counting the number of people, he walked up to Yarman.

"We’re ready. We can set off at any time... Speaking of which, is it okay to return with an empty ship? It’s like we made two trips for nothing."

Yarman said spiritedly.

"No problem, and this trip is not in vain. After this trip, we can soon start a more profitable venture... Ah, sorry, the dividend from this deal might—"

Seeing the previously spirited boss suddenly stammer the next second, the captain made a carefree expression and shrugged, saying.

"It’s okay. Actually, when I heard you say there’s such high profit, I knew there was probably nothing good... If there isn’t, there isn’t. Now I just hope not to miss the birthday; my family is still waiting for me to return."

Far-sighted Eagle asked curiously.

"What is the birthday?"

"It’s the day the Weilante People were born, marking the start of a great legend."

Yarman’s lips slightly upturned, looking towards the distant sea, and shouted, "Set sail!"

The steam whistle blew.

When those empty cargo ships lingered at the port and refused to leave, a fleet of eight cargo ships had already set out in the direction of the setting sun, embarking on a new journey.

Fiery red light stretched across their path, the afterglow of the sunset covered the shimmering ocean surface.

That burning color.

Just like it was stained with blood.