Dad, Lend Me Some Money!

"Dad, lend me some money!" Inside a luxurious mansion in the inner city. The moment Xide hurried through the front door, he was met with his son's expectant gaze, and an amused expression instantly spread across his face. Well, well. The sun must have risen in the west today. Usually, this good-for-nothing dog of a son opened his mouth only to demand cash. How had he suddenly learned to use the word "lend"? Xide didn't care how his son spent money outside. His family fortune wasn't something that could be squandered away by mere spending alone—as long as the boy was careful when sleeping around and didn't suddenly bring home some bastard grandchild one day. Who hadn't been young once? He had played around in his youth too, only reigning it in slightly after starting a family. After all, his wife's family came from a respectable background, so they had to maintain some mutual decorum. "How much?" "Ten million!" The moment he heard "ten million," Xide's brow furrowed tightly. What did ten million mean? Calculated in wages, all five hundred thousand-plus people of Boulder City would have to bust their backs working for two to three weeks! And even in terms of economic output, those beasts of burden would have to sweat blood for at least a full day! Although chips were just numbers to him, they weren't scrap paper. Without a doubt, this was no trivial sum. Even if he could afford it, he couldn't let his son squander money so recklessly. "Go to the butler and take two hundred thousand to spend for now. If that's not enough, come ask me again." Seeing his old man misunderstand him, Kumite immediately grew anxious and stomped his foot. "Dad! I really need it urgently! If you don't believe me, I can write an IOU!" Xide glared at him. "Did you get yourself into trouble again, you little brat? Tell me honestly, and don't you dare make your own decisions again!" Kumite grinned sheepishly. "No, what trouble? Am I that kind of person? Dad, to tell you the truth, I found a money-making opportunity!" A money-making opportunity? Xide nearly burst out laughing. Others might not understand his son, but he knew him all too well. Money slipped right through the boy's fingers. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Xide said patiently, "You're still a bit too naive, kid. Keep your eyes open when you're out there, and don't let people swindle you. Tell your old man—which bastard painted this grand pie in the sky for you?" Kumite brushed his father's hand away, caught between laughter and tears. "Come on! I told you, it's a real chance to make a fortune! You know Jixiu, right? He's back from Ideal City!" "Jixiu? You mean... Melvin's second son?" It took Xide a moment to recall the brat's name. To be frank, he didn't have a good impression of the kid. The boy was far too rash—to put it bluntly, he acted without using his brain! He clearly could have hired a couple of desperate outlaws to take out that family, yet he insisted on being clever by committing arson, even doing the deed himself like a complete pig. Utterly senseless. Fortunately, the boy had a clever father who shipped him out of the city immediately, squared things away with the militia, and found a scapegoat to quell the outer city residents' fury, bringing the matter to a close. They could indeed disregard the rules on the surface, but underneath, there remained an unwritten code to follow. If they truly abandoned all rules, wouldn't they be no different from marauders? If not for the father's standing, Xide would never have allowed his son to fool around with that guy every day. Of course, considering Jixiu had spent five years in Ideal City and might have established his own foothold there with the old fox Melvin's help, it was worth doing him a favor and investing a little. He planned to find an opportunity to send his younger son there as well, cultivating connections in advance so the boy would have someone to look out for him. Once he accumulated a large sum of Cr in the future, Xide also wanted to go there for a couple of days to relax and experience another kind of luxurious life. With that in mind, Xide weighed his options and relented. "...Go to the butler and collect two million chips." Kumite's face instantly fell in disappointment. "Huh? Only two million..." "You're complaining that's too little?" Xide irritably slapped the back of the ungrateful boy's head. "You've never run a household, so you don't know how hard money is to make! Take the two million and spend it. Don't bother with an IOU, just give me a signed pledge. If you lose it all, pack your bags and roll off to Ideal City to study! The timing couldn't be better with direct flights now. At least go learn something useful and bring it back!" Kumite curled his lip. To be honest, he really didn't think money was hard to make. His good buddy was the son of the president of Boulder City Bank, and the son of the big boss Weijia was his lackey. Making money was practically effortless for him. Besides, Jixiu had drafted a very thorough plan. They had a complete strategy to drive the price of S-coins through the roof! Still, time was money. Two million was better than nothing. Once he turned these two million into four million, or even forty million, four hundred million... his foolish old man would definitely see him in a new light! While Kumite was dreaming of striking it rich, Xide had already headed to his wife Bonnie's quarters. Pushing open the dressing room door, he wrapped his arms around the woman seated before the vanity mirror, who was having her hair combed by a maid. Though she was already in her forties or fifties, thanks to excellent maintenance and bionic technology, she looked almost unchanged from her youth, save for a few faint lines at the corners of her eyes. If she had been a wasteland wanderer, someone her age would likely have been six feet under by now. "What has you so happy?" Bonnie's cheeks blushed slightly. She glanced at the maid beside her, signaling her to leave and close the door behind her. Xide didn't care whether anyone else was around. It wasn't as if he hadn't tasted that girl before anyway. Beaming, he kissed his wife. "Darling, we're going to make a fortune!" Bonnie gave him a reproachful look. "Make a fortune? Aren't we already wealthy enough?" "We're going to be even wealthier!" Xide sat down on the nearby sofa and proudly laid out the full agreement he had reached with Lister regarding the bonds. Lister had agreed to give him half the pie at "original price" and offered professional advice, suggesting he split his allocation equally between long-term and short-term bonds. He had subscribed to five hundred million in short-term bonds and one billion in long-term bonds... Although he had originally intended to put the entire 1.5 billion into the latter—after all, buying 100 chips of face value at an issue price of 85 sounded far more enticing—he readily agreed, considering he had to leave some profit for Lister as well. With an issue price of 85, he only needed 850 million chips to buy one billion chips' worth of debt, and the Alliance would pay him forty million chips in interest each year! Of course, what he was eyeing wasn't that annual forty million in interest. Only poor wretches counted on meager bank interest. He would break up the total 1.5 billion in debt and resell it to the chambers of commerce and factory owners in Boulder City at an appropriate price, say 1.3 or 1.4 billion. After all, having eaten the meat himself, he had to share some broth with them. And those factories and chambers of commerce that had profited off the Alliance were flush with cash right now; they would definitely jump at this value-appreciating deal. They would drink the broth. In fact, they had to drink it! At this thought, Xide couldn't help feeling smug about his brilliant scheme. This simple turnaround meant a profit of one hundred million! Money that would take two and a half years to earn through interest alone could be made in an instant with a flick of his finger. Honest fools like Lister, who obediently ran factories and did straightforward business, knew nothing of real "power"! "Something still feels off to me. Why would Lister give you such a profitable opportunity? Isn't he a new noble?" After listening to her husband, Bonnie still felt a vague sense of unease. To put it plainly, she didn't trust wastelanders. Even if wastelanders managed to attain noble status in the inner city through wealth, their blood still ran with filth and original sin. Xide wasn't surprised by his wife's reservations. A decorative vase like her had never been exposed to the darkness outside; looking out their windows, one couldn't see an inch of the wasteland. He, however, understood it intimately. He knew better than anyone how desperate those wastelanders were and how much they craved a life in the inner city. For that black card, they would humble themselves into the dirt, tearing out their dignity and hearts to toss into a boiling cauldron. "Yes, he's a new noble. I was even the one who helped him secure his black card, but the true core power of the inner city still has nothing to do with him. I can sway half the nobility to vote alongside me, while he still has to navigate social intricacies, asking me which side to take during votes just to avoid offending someone by accident. If he wants to gain a firm footing in the inner city, he has to rely on us, on our family, on the tangled vascular network of this grand building! You can think of him as a dog our family keeps." Seeing the confident gleam in her husband's eyes, Bonnie relaxed slightly and rested her hand on his shoulder. "You carry this entire household on your shoulders alone. Don't exhaust yourself." She didn't understand those complicated matters. Her father had shielded her well. But from the sorrow that occasionally slipped onto her maid's face, the bitterness when the girl wrote letters to her sweetheart, and the trembling trepidation when facing her, Bonnie could roughly guess that life for the people outside wasn't pleasant at all. Wrapping his arm around his wife's waist, Xide declared with absolute confidence, "Don't worry, your husband isn't fighting alone. We are a collective—the descendants of noble pioneers who built a new world upon barren ruins. And our opponents are nothing more than a few mole rats whose brains were frozen numb, along with wastelanders whose stomachs have rotted from scavenging garbage. "They have no conception of real political scheming. We see right through them, while they don't even know how many cards we hold. "We cannot possibly lose!" ... "Hahaha! Those stupid pigs! You have no idea, when I told that fool Xide he could buy 100 chips of debt for 90 chips, the look on his face was simply magnificent! Who knew an elegant, well-mannered gentleman could turn from a man into a pig in a single second!" Inside a certain mansion in Dawn City. Lister wore a triumphant, unrestrained sneer. Vividly, he described to Chu Guang how, during the banquet, he had lured that greedy fat pig into the cage he had woven, coaxing it step by step to slip the noose around its own neck. Chu Guang listened with a smile and clapped softly. "Brilliant." "You flatter me!" Reining in the frivolous smirk on his face, Lister gave a slight nod and continued respectfully, "No matter how brilliant my performance was, I am merely an actor on the stage, incomparable to you, who designed the entire stage for me." "Stop being so modest! Flattery won't earn you any extra favors," Chu Guang said with a laugh. "Did you bring the items?" "They're right here." Lister clapped his hands lightly. Soon, his confidant Han Long pushed open the door and carried two large briefcases into the study. At a gesture from his boss, Lister, Han Long laid the briefcases flat on an empty table to one side of the study and unlatched the locks. Inside lay rows of black-and-white chips emblazoned with a crown motif, each bearing a denomination of ten thousand. Lister looked at Chu Guang and said respectfully, "Please inspect them." Chu Guang glanced at Lü Bei, who was standing beside him. "Go count them." "Yes!" Lü Bei nodded crisply and walked over to the two briefcases. Although Chu Guang knew Lister had surely counted the chips over and over and would never dare deceive him, letting Lü Bei go through the motions would set Lister's mind at ease. As always, Lü Bei was meticulous about any task assigned to him, counting them one by one with utmost seriousness. Watching the young man fully absorbed in counting the money, Lister relaxed slightly and smiled at Chu Guang, who was seated on the sofa. "As you instructed, I transferred more than half of the bonds to a prominent noble in Boulder City. If all goes as expected, he will resell those bonds to the factories of Boulder City." If the previous round of inflation had concentrated Boulder City's social wealth into the hands of the ruling nobility and the merchants controlling the means of production, then this round of inflation driven by subordinated debt would force the merchants controlling the means of production to begin tasting that "sweet, bitter fruit" as well. Those merchants were the craftiest. They greedily indulged in the pool's hot-spring comfort, but when the water grew hot enough to scald their backsides, they would be the first to sound the alarm. Therefore, when necessary, they would band together with the less intelligent yet formidable nobility to face outside threats as one. Harvesting them required a bit more finesse—selling the carving knife to the inner city nobility first and using their hands to carry out this laborious task. The three billion in total debt was merely the beginning. Neither Lister nor Chu Guang had ever promised Boulder City that this would be the last loan they took, nor had they promised not to use new debt to pay off the old. "Actually, there's one thing I don't quite understand," Lister suddenly spoke up. "What is it?" "The Alliance has accounts in Boulder City, right?" Lister asked, looking at Chu Guang in confusion. "Since the chips have to be taken to Boulder City for transactions anyway, why not just make a bank transfer? Why insist on cash?" Chu Guang smiled and replied casually, "Because this money isn't meant for buying goods; it's bait for fishing. In this game, we can only guarantee our own credit; others are another story. So I need a portion of off-market cash to deliver on our promises." Chu Guang looked toward the briefcases on the table. Following his instructions, Lister had made Xide pay a twenty-million-chip "deposit" in advance—in cash—and then sent men to deliver the chips to the Alliance. No one dared question what Xide withdrew the money for, and twenty million sat right at a sweet spot that wasn't conspicuously large, meaning Boulder City Bank wouldn't catch wind of it in advance. Half of this twenty million was to pay Boulder City Bank's debt, while the other half was meant for Melvin's eyes, showing that fellow that the Alliance had already prepared next year's principal and interest. So don't even think about using debt to coerce concessions out of the Alliance! Melvin was a clever man. He would inevitably realize that hoarding too much local currency was tantamount to drinking a bellyful of foam. He would surely use the debt to pressure the Alliance—either demanding the free circulation of chips and silver coins, or demanding that the Alliance help him find a new outlet for the excess bubble. Whether it meant allowing chips to be converted into Cr via a bridge, or allowing chips to price the Lion Kingdom's grain and Xizhou City's mineral resources, all of these were means to achieve that end. However, Chu Guang wouldn't let that cunning fox slip away so easily; he even intended to use this opportunity to drag them in deeper. Melvin would never imagine in his wildest dreams that his own major shareholder would be so impatient, eagerly paying the year-end principal and interest on the Alliance's behalf and stabbing him in the back without his knowledge. Lister nodded, half-comprehending. "What about the remaining money? 830 million chips in cash won't be easy to pull out. That's no small sum. Boulder City Bank will definitely keep a close eye on it. Even if we have Xide withdraw the cash first, it probably won't be simple." Chu Guang smiled and said, "There's no need to take it out. What would I do with so much scrap paper? We'll use that money to purchase goods—part of it to buy back discounted debt, and part to buy means of production. When the time comes, we might even need your help." Lister asked with interest, "Buy what?" Chu Guang didn't disclose the details, saying simply and succinctly, "Anything that couldn't be bought with that 510-million-chip medium-to-long-term loan from Boulder City Bank can be bought with this money. Our Department of Industry and Department of Economy have drawn up a list that was just finalized through discussions. I can tell you it exists, but I won't reveal its contents in advance." Because that would be unfair to other competitors. Lister intended to sell Boulder City out for a good price, and Chu Guang would ensure he received his due benefits, but only up to what had been agreed upon. The Alliance's future planning was another matter entirely. Lister understood Chu Guang's meaning immediately, so he refrained from prying further. Relaxing into a smile, he seamlessly steered away from the dangerous topic. "Fair enough. Let me know when you need me... But speaking of which, your efficiency is truly remarkable. You reached a consensus in a single meeting, whereas the noble lords in the inner city can bicker for a week over who gets an extra bite of trivial nonsense, yet act with reckless haste when they ought to be cautious." "That is their concern." Seeing Lü Bei nod to him, Chu Guang smiled, rose from the sofa, and shook hands with Lister, who had also stood up. "Still, I guarantee there's a share for every one of them. Not a single bite they're owed will be missed." Grasping that firm, steel-like grip with solemn respect, Lister smiled as well and replied deferentially, "It is an honor to be of service!" ... While the upper echelons of Boulder City and the Alliance engaged in their war of wits, the three-day celebration had reached its conclusion. After tonight, everyone's lives would return to their daily routines, and work would resume. Yet few felt any regret. Instead, they looked forward to tomorrow with anticipation. Because starting tomorrow, they would only have to work eight-hour days. Not only would their bosses not dock their pay, but they would also pay them higher wages. The Alliance had demanded cooperation from their employers; those who refused were told to pack their bags and scram to the neighbors. Compared to a rapidly growing market of boundless potential, what did a slight increase in labor costs amount to? Any smart person could do that math. On the other side, with Fang Chang's help, Dolly had finished her column. Yet just as she excitedly prepared to share the good news with her boss, Hal, she discovered that he had arrived from Boulder City. Moreover, he had brought a large contingent of employees with him, disheveled, carrying luggage on their backs, looking every bit like they had been kicked out the door. At the doorstep by the shore of Ling Lake. After listening to Hal's explanation, Dolly's eyes went wide. "The newspaper has been shut down?!" Hal looked at the shocked Dolly with a guilty conscience and murmured, "...It wasn't my decision to shut it down." "I know... but why didn't you tell me sooner?!" Dolly clenched her fists in fury. To write that column, she had spent practically the entire festival wandering Dawn City's streets, looking around so intently that she hadn't even properly enjoyed the celebration. And after finishing all that work, her useless chief editor told her she no longer had a job?! Hal ducked his head, muttering guiltily, "I figured I was coming over here anyway, so I might as well tell you in person... By the way, your arm is healed? Congratulations, it suits you well." Her mind in turmoil, Dolly pressed her temples, refusing to let him derail the topic. She was still brooding over the newspaper's closure. "But... but... wasn't the newspaper backed by the Alliance's investment?" Hal sighed, looking at Dolly as she made her last stand. "Yes, but the Alliance embassy couldn't possibly pressure Boulder City over a single newspaper. That's their internal affair, and the Alliance didn't want to make a mountain out of a molehill... Of course, out of respect for the Alliance, Boulder City didn't make things difficult for us either; they let us take everything. Aside from the windows and doors that couldn't be removed, I packed up everything that could be carried, including your desk." Dolly stared at him blankly. "Then... what do you plan to do next?" Hal's expression turned complex as he gazed toward the sunset in the west. "I plan to take our colleagues to Sunset Province and re-establish Survivor Daily there, expanding our business starting from the Lion Kingdom. Of course... if anyone doesn't want to travel so far, they can stay in Dawn City. There's a *Survivor Daily* here too. I spoke with their editor-in-chief, and they'd welcome us." He had read Dawn City's *Survivor Daily*. It wasn't as interesting as the one he ran in Boulder City; after all, bantering with Mr. House required a certain level of skill. Most educated people in the Alliance sought out organizations with better conditions, and the newspaper's profitability was limited, so editorial positions generally couldn't offer high salaries. As a result, most of what they wrote was straightforward prose, lacking a touch of humor and wit. Still, their future was worth anticipating. After all, advertising rates would climb alongside economic growth, and here, good fortune would always smile on those who worked conscientiously. *Survivor Daily* had originated in Boulder City. But its mission there had come to an end. Having explained future arrangements, Hal didn't dare stay to sponge a meal. He apologized carefully once more and took his leave. Watching Dolly return from the entryway looking thoroughly dejected, Fang Chang patted her shoulder gently and consoled her, "It's all right..." "B-but that was a news draft I worked so hard to write..." Dolly's eyes brimmed with tears, an unspeakable grievance weighing on her heart. She believed there were many aspects of the Alliance's methods worth learning from. If workers' conditions were improved and Boulder City's residents grew prosperous, more novel ideas would naturally pour into Boulder City, enriched further by everyone's diverse creativity. Even if they couldn't return to the wonderful Era of Prosperity, life could at least be a little better than yesterday. She disliked the inner city noble lords; having worked as an intelligence peddler, she knew better than anyone how ugly and filthy those people were. Yet if it could make life slightly better for Boulder City's people, she was willing to set aside her petty grievances and publish the good things she had witnessed in the Alliance in the paper, even if some were merely partial or naive ideas. Someone conceives an idea, someone refines it, someone tests it—three people working together can always accomplish more than one alone, and no one starts with a flawless solution. Yet what she never anticipated was that just as she prepared to do this, *Survivor Daily* was forced to close its doors. An insult far more venomous than mockery and ridicule was complete and utter indifference. "Feels ironic, doesn't it?" Fang Chang coughed softly, unable to resist teasing, "The big bad wolf full of vile schemes is treated as an honored guest, while our clever investigator lady loses her beloved job—ouch, are you part cat?!" Before he could finish, Dolly had pounced and bitten him. "You're still teasing me!" Seeing the tears brimming in her eyes, Fang Chang suddenly felt a pang of sympathy, even though players lacked the sensation of pain. He reached out, pulled her into a gentle embrace, and stroked her head. "Sorry." "You didn't do anything wrong! You don't need to apologize!" With tears welling in her eyes, Dolly stubbornly sniffled hard, her voice low and raspy enough to break one's heart. "You guessed it would end like this all along... didn't you?" Fang Chang let out a soft sigh. "To say I didn't expect it at all would definitely be a lie, but it happening this fast genuinely took me by surprise." Dolly looked at him with heartbreaking sorrow. "But why! Why did they..." "The reason behind it might not be as complicated as you think. Maybe some noble picked up a copy from a commoner's newsstand on a whim one day. They usually don't care to read such things, just as they wouldn't normally taste watered-down beer, but taking a sip made them frown... So this isn't your fault. There's no need to grieve over people who aren't worth it." Not wanting Dolly to remain despondent, Fang Chang continued to comfort her. "Besides, setting the newspaper aside, wandering the streets of Dawn City with you, poking our heads into shops and asking around for the 'secret formula' behind the Alliance's rise—that was genuinely fun for me." Such simple joys were ironically hard to come by in the information age. In reality, if he wanted to learn about something, it was far too easy—just a swipe of a finger or a few phone calls. "...But our efforts have lost their meaning," Dolly said, lowering her head. "My column... won't be published." "How could that be? Didn't I tell you, even lying on the grass beside you counting the stars is full of meaning? Let alone everything we've done over these past few days. Whether it's meaningful shouldn't be decided by people who never did the work." Looking into those bewildered, innocent eyes, Fang Chang gave her small hand a squeeze. "How about trying to submit it to the Alliance's *Survivor Daily*?" "What they don't care about, we care about; what they care about, we don't consider all that important. I'm sure the editor-in-chief of *Survivor Daily* will be moved by your meticulous investigation. We need your eyes to spot the 'Na fruits' lurking among us and other hidden dangers we haven't noticed yet." The confusion in her eyes gradually gave way to rekindled light. Pleased to see her spirits lift, Fang Chang smiled warmly and made a gentle, harmless joke in a soft voice. "...Giving up just like this would be such a waste. "I'm still waiting for the gentle, kind Miss Dolly to earn money and support me, after all." ... After leaving Lister's residence, Chu Guang instructed Lü Bei to lead the brothers of the Guards Corps in delivering the chips to the Ministry of Finance, while he himself headed toward North Ling Lake Street, where players congregated, intending to see what new shenanigans his little players were up to. As he walked past the players' self-built community, he happened to run into Hal, who had just stepped out of Fang Chang's house. Not having figured out how to explain himself, Hal had initially wanted to slip away, but seeing that Chu Guang had already spotted him, he could only bite the bullet, step forward to offer greetings, and recount the entire story from beginning to end before Chu Guang even asked. Keeping his head down, not daring to meet the Administrator's eyes, Hal apologized in a small voice. "I'm sorry... I failed to live up to your expectations and ruined the paper." Seeing his nervous, trembling posture, Chu Guang happened to be in a good mood and laughed softly. "Did I ever tell you what my expectations were?" Hal blinked, confusion surfacing in his eyes. Try as he might, he couldn't remember, so he scratched his head. "What were they?" "Nothing at all. I simply told you to pursue it; I never laid down conditions for what it had to become. But looking at it now, this investment has yielded unexpected fruit. Your choices and decisions have made it more than worth the cost." Looking at the bewildered young man, Chu Guang smiled and said, "Starting a newspaper in Sunset Province is a fine idea. Do whatever you wish to do. When you return, remember to send my regards to your father. By the way, have you eaten yet?" Coming back to his senses, Hal felt his stomach give an audible rumble, and he shook his head with a flush. "Not yet..." "Then let's eat together." Hal was startled, then waved his hands in flustered modesty. "Th-that... I couldn't possibly impose." Chu Guang chuckled, clapped him on the shoulder, and teased, "What's there to be embarrassed about? Wasn't I the one who bought your very first meal when you arrived in Qingquan City? You didn't seem all that embarrassed back then." Hal coughed dryly. "That was different... I was starving then." Besides, how could that time compare to now?! The Alliance had grown into a towering tree; even his royal father had to treat the Alliance's Administrator with the utmost deference. Let alone him. "Consider it a farewell meal before your departure! Once you reach the desert, remember to tell the people there what I actually look like, so they don't have to guess based on that painting alone." Seeing Hal still hesitating bashfully, Chu Guang chuckled and urged him on, "Come on, let's go have a drink. Stop dawdling!" Declining any further would be disrespectful. Caught between laughter and tears, Hal nodded and allowed Chu Guang to drag him over to a barbecue stall. Quite a few vault residents were gathered here. They showed little surprise at the Administrator's arrival. Most continued busying themselves with their own affairs, while only a few idle pranksters came forward to "pay their respects." Hal could tell, however, that the glib, flamboyant titles they concocted weren't born of genuine reverence for this great figure as some unapproachable deity, nor were they laced with sarcastic irony; they simply wanted to catch his attention through this form of performance art. Yet what benefit was there in that? Deep down, they knew the Administrator wouldn't show them favoritism just because they "flattered" him, didn't they? Hal had no idea what they were aiming for; he merely observed these vault residents with curiosity. For someone who had spent his life in Boulder City, everything here felt fresh and novel. As night deepened, the chatter grew even livelier, accompanied by the melodious strains of music. The people here seemed to be celebrating the festival's final night. They kneaded split-claw crab meat and flour into patties seasoned with spices, pushing tables together to share triumphant wine and tales of adventure. They seemed never to tire. They paid no heed to the wasteland whatsoever. The sizzling aroma was more intoxicating than beer foam, yet what held one's gaze even more was the leaping bonfire and the graceful figures dancing before the flames. Meanwhile, the Administrator who had brought him here had long since vanished somewhere unknown. Having accidentally drunk a bit too much, Hal stared hazily at the increasingly blurred world before him, softly humming a doggerel verse he had just made up on the spot: "Lanterns hung and banners bright, the hyenas join the feast tonight; Scrambling greedily into the boiling pot, some will weep while others laugh a lot." Just wait and see. Those arrogant bastards. The thought that once he went to the desert, he would no longer get to witness the mournful faces of those haughty lords made Hal feel a sudden reluctance to leave this place...