A Vibrant Port French Fries

Jungle, beach, and the sea! Daddy's back! Inside the airship's cabin, Fang Chang gazed through the glass window at the pleasant scenery of Port French Fries, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not bad." He was finally getting a taste of what it felt like to be a city lord. Of course, saying so was one thing, but in reality, Port French Fries was not his sole domain. Minor development projects were mostly subcontracted to specific outfits or organizations, while major development planning and project approvals were collectively decided by the board of Baiyue Strait Development Co., Ltd. This joint-stock corporation, established in Dawn City, was currently co-owned by several player organizations interested in developing the Baiyue Strait. Shares were divided based on their capital contributions, and the company carried out development along the strait's coastline under the framework of Alliance law. As for the Niuma Group, its main responsibilities lay in infrastructure construction and logistics transportation. Those happened to be their greatest strengths. One behind the other, the two airships hovered above Port French Fries before slowly lowering their gondolas. Watching Fang Chang step off the gondola, Spare the Blade, who served as the construction project manager, walked over and glanced at the airship behind him. "Holy crap, you bought another one?!" "What do you mean, bought another one? That belongs to the Scientific Expedition! From now on, the salvage work will be handled by those professionals. We're mainly here to haul cargo." Fang Chang chuckled, clapped his brother on the shoulder, and led him over to the gondola, gesturing toward the crates being unloaded. "...These goodies are what I actually bought. Ten sets of Bie-type engineering armor and twenty-five Cross Spider robots. All yours!" Hearing that, Spare the Blade's face lit up with pleasant surprise. The performance of the Bie-type engineering armor in Camp 101 and during the reconstruction project of Xizhou City's southern district was evident to all. That piece of gear was practically the pinnacle of personal construction-assistance equipment—the culmination of two centuries of Shelter 100's construction experience! It was like an SCV capable of navigating complex terrain with ease. Not only could it swap out whichever tools a worker needed according to the task at hand, but it also provided a visual digital guidance system. If the K-10 'Iron Wall' exoskeleton was the pinnacle of heavy exoskeletons designed for the battlefield, then the Bie-type engineering armor was a K-10 'Iron Wall' tailor-made for construction workers. Paired with Cross Spider robots capable of hauling materials straight up and down vertical walls, an engineering squad of ten could match the efficiency of a hundred-man construction crew, provided the other construction units could keep pace. Even a veteran civil engineer like him had been thoroughly awed after an on-site inspection. Precisely because of this equipment's outstanding construction capabilities, its price had remained sky-high. Players weren't the only ones scrambling to buy them; NPCs placed orders as well, and even construction companies from Ideal City were intensely interested. Who would have thought this guy could bring over an entire set! Unable to wait, Spare the Blade hurried forward and asked the nearby workers to help open one of the crates, which stood two people high. Looking at the crab-like engineering armor inside, he grinned from ear to ear. But after riding that wave of excitement for just a moment, he soon thought of another issue. "Wait, doesn't this thing require training to use?" As if anticipating the question, Fang Chang gave a knowing smile. "Don't worry, I hired the trained workers too. They'll be down in a moment. Just make sure to keep them safe. According to their contracts, they'll only work within the designated safe zone." "Naturally! As if I'd let them venture outside to work?" Spare the Blade chuckled. "Rest easy, leave it to me!" "With you here, I'm completely at ease!" Fang Chang replied with a smile. Brother Blade was an old player from the very first batch, just like him, and had been a member of the Niuma group chat since way back. It was just that this fellow's playstyle was far too hardcore—or rather, niche. His combat power was largely demonstrated on construction sites, so he rarely caught the attention of ordinary players. If it were anyone else, Fang Chang might not be so relaxed, but leaving it to this guy was definitely reliable. The two walked toward the center of the camp. Along the way, Fang Chang suddenly noticed stacks of hides bound with hemp rope into square, block-like bundles sitting on a cargo mound not far from the beach. Some had fur, while others were bare skins. They varied in shape and size, spanning a bewildering array of species and colors. All together, there had to be at least a thousand pieces! "...Good grief, you guys hunted this much game over the past few days?" Seeing Fang Chang's astonished expression, Spare the Blade wore a helpless look. "We didn't go out hunting them on our own. Those beasts threw themselves at us." Threw themselves at them? Since when was Brother Guang so generous? Fang Chang was taken aback, but he soon recalled the rumors he had heard from the Scientific Expedition. After a moment's thought, he said, "...This rainforest is a bit weird. I heard the mutants here are related to mutant slime mold. There might very well be a broodmother sitting not far from us. Be careful during construction. Safety first." "Put your heart at ease. Broodmother or not, I'll be careful!" Spare the Blade patted his arm and laughed. "Though frankly, if we really could dig up that broodmother, we'd hit the jackpot. Just locating its position pays a million silver coins! The reward is outrageously high!" "True enough. Even I'm tempted." Fang Chang smiled. Glancing at the mound of piled skins, he suddenly caught sight of bloodstains and mucus. A thought struck him, and he asked, "By the way... are all of these untreated raw hides?" Spare the Blade nodded. "I'm pretty sure they are. Curing these raw hides takes a lot of time. I heard from players in the fur trade that salt in the camp is almost sold out, and that's despite us sitting right by the sea." Fang Chang paused. "It's that extreme?" "You bet," Spare the Blade said helplessly. "I see they opened two more salt pans recently, but manpower is still a bottleneck. I heard the players doing fur trade are wondering whether to ship the raw hides back to Dawn City to have people process them." Port French Fries only had a little over three hundred players. Although the airship Niuma had brought over two hundred more brothers drawn by the buzz, quite a few of them were simply returning after dying and respawning. That handful of people wasn't even enough to split between the construction team and the Scientific Expedition. Furthermore, hiring players to do delicate chores like tanning leather was a bit of a waste of talent, and economically, it didn't make much sense either. "If we ship them back for processing, they'll probably rot along the way..." Fang Chang pondered for a moment, and his eyes suddenly lit up. He turned to Spare the Blade. "Right, don't Tail and the others have people over there?" Spare the Blade asked, "You mean... those Moon Clan refugees?" Fang Chang gave a slight smile. "The work isn't too physically demanding, so having them do it shouldn't be a problem. And not just tanning leather—butchering and processing game can be handled by NPCs too. If we can hand that over, it won't just save costs; it'll also free up premium labor from simple, repetitive chores... You know what I mean." Spare the Blade looked at him with an odd expression. Hearing that, he had the strange feeling that the way this guy thought was becoming more and more like a certain NPC he knew. "Is there something on my face?" Seeing Spare the Blade staring without speaking, Fang Chang rubbed his cheeks, feeling nothing unusual. Snapping back to his senses, Spare the Blade cleared his throat with a light cough. "Nothing. I just think... that's a pretty good idea." It truly was a solid idea. Although the facilities at Port French Fries were still rudimentary, the perimeter walls were already built. As long as they didn't leave the camp, safety was reasonably guaranteed. "I'll go ask for their opinion on the forum in a bit... Oh, right, there's one more thing." Mid-sentence, he suddenly remembered another matter. Fang Chang looked at him inquisitively. "What is it?" "About clearing the rainforest." Pausing, Spare the Blade scratched his head and spoke with an uncertain tone. "According to reports from several construction teams, while clearing the rainforest, they noticed the forest possesses a bizarre self-repairing property." Fang Chang frowned slightly. "Self-repairing?" Spare the Blade nodded and continued, "I don't know if that's the right way to put it, but the gist is that areas they cleared just the previous day were found overgrown with shrubs, grass, and vines during inspection the very next morning. It was as if they had crept out from the adjacent woods. At first, I thought the construction crews taking the quests were slacking off, but similar things occurred across every work zone... That's really weird." Under conditions of ample rainfall and abundant sunlight, most forests naturally expanded toward fertile soil; that in itself was nothing unusual. However, that sort of growth was typically measured in years. Only on a timescale of years could any noticeable progression be observed. Yet this tropical rainforest was different. It was as if it were alive, healing its 'wounds' at a speed visible to the naked eye... Looking at the contemplative Fang Chang, Spare the Blade suggested, "I suggest mentioning this to the Alliance Institute of Biological Research next time you head back, to see what they think." Fang Chang nodded solemnly and shifted his gaze toward the other airship in the sky. "No need to wait until going back. They came along with the Scientific Expedition." "You can report the situation here directly to them in a little while." *** At the same time the two airships arrived at Port French Fries, a dry bulk cargo ship laden with freight was slowly departing the turbulent Brahma Sea, entering the tranquil Baiyue Strait from the west. "...Take the wheel for a bit." Yawning as he stepped out of the wheelhouse, the elderly man draped in a brown jacket yielded the doorway to a young man in a white shirt. He then walked over to a lounge chair beneath the gangway, picked up an unfinished beer bottle from a nearby plastic crate, took two swigs, and squinted as he enjoyed the sea breeze. Normally, he never allowed anyone else to touch his ship, but navigating the Baiyue Strait was an exception. Compared to the open Brahma Sea and the Southern Sea, this strait cutting through Baiyue Province could hardly be called a sea; it was more like a peaceful river. On top of that, with landforms on both shores serving as visual references to confirm their heading, steering off course enough to turn the ship around would take deliberate effort. That was why he felt comfortable handing the helm to the young man while he came down to relax and catch his breath. The old man was named Song Haining, a resident of Ring Island, though he had lived in Silver Moon Bay far longer than he had on Ring Island. Of course, the time he had spent in both places combined couldn't hold a candle to the time he had spent drifting at sea. Years of wind and sun had left his face looking like a freshly dried rag, and one that had been blackened by scrubbing the bottom of a pot at that. For as long as he could remember, he had worked aboard ships with his father, only acquiring a cargo vessel of his own when he turned thirty. Now, this ship, the *Northwest Wind*, had been with him for twenty full years. Every time he saw the mottled rust on the deck, he couldn't help thinking that perhaps it was time to seriously consider retirement. In the wasteland, being in one's fifties was undeniably old age... "It's as quiet as ever here." Walking up beside Song Haining, a young man in a gray jacket rested his arms on the railing along the ship's side and offered a casual smile. His name was Mogavi, a merchant from Silver Moon Bay in the Camel Hump Kingdom. He was also the owner of the five thousand tons of iron ore and coal aboard the cargo ship, as well as the employer of thirty mercenaries. Recently, the South Archipelago Federation and Shelter 70 had been locked in bitter combat. Due to the war, offshore mining stations had shut down one after another, yet factory production on the various islands couldn't afford to stop, sending resource prices soaring through the roof. Although trading in these waters carried substantial risk, plenty of daredevils still decided to wade into these murky depths. This man was one of them. Song Haining didn't know much about his background, but deals brokered by the port rarely went awry, and the route was one he knew well. Even if this fellow seemed a bit scatterbrained at times, the captain didn't mind—as long as the dinars kept flowing. Hearing the voice beside him, the old captain, who was squinting at the scenery, gave a faint smile and set the empty beer bottle aside. "I only hope it stays this quiet." "It definitely will!" A confident smile spread across the man's face, and he continued, "Before setting sail, I specifically hired someone to do a divination! The diviner told me that as long as we keep heading toward the sunrise, forward and ever forward... a land paved with gold awaits us there." A land paved with gold... Hearing that fanciful phrase, Song Haining couldn't help but chuckle. He raised an eyebrow, glanced at the faint sunlight, and then returned his gaze to the vibrant green shore in the distance. He had spent the better part of his life shuttling back and forth across these waters and had never heard of any island paved with gold. As for the land on either side of the strait? That went without saying. What lurked within that dense rainforest was certainly not treasure, but death. Even if vessels passing through this region exhausted their supplies, they would never consider chancing their luck ashore. The forest there was like the gaping jaws of a monster, ready to swallow whole anyone who dared venture inside. "...You should have brought that diviner aboard. That way, we could ask him how far away this land paved with gold actually is." Song Haining gave a lazy reply. Yet no sooner had his words landed than two incredulous cries rang out from atop the gangway. "Ahead! Look up in the sky!" "What is that?!" In the sky? Hearing the shouts from above the gangway, both Song Haining and Mogavi on the deck were taken aback. The latter reacted first. Crying out an ecstatic, "Praise the Goddess of the Silver Moon!" he hurried up the gangway. Could the prophecy have come true? Watching the overjoyed fellow, Song Haining wore a bizarre expression. Though he instinctively disbelieved such mysticism, he rose from his lounge chair nonetheless and followed the merchant from Silver Moon Bay up the stairs. "What did you see? What's in the sky ahead—" Stepping up to the railing of the lookout platform, Song Haining was about to press the clamoring sailor for details when the words caught in his throat. Looking in the direction the sailor was pointing, his gaze skipped past rows of cargo containers heaped with ore, and two white spheres floating beneath the clouds quickly entered his view. Due to the distance, they appeared as small as balloons, but he was not about to mistake them for mere playthings. Those were airships! Yet why would airships be here? While Song Haining was dazed, Mogavi beside him cried out in delight. "Airships! They're airships!" "I damn well know they're airships... What I want to know is why there are airships in this godforsaken place!" Snapping out of his astonishment, Song Haining showed not a shred of excitement; instead, worry and wariness steadily crept across his face. The Southern Sea was far from peaceful right now. The South Archipelago Federation and Shelter 70 had been fighting for more than two months, both sides seeing red and long having cast all restraint to the wind. Before setting sail, he had heard people talking in a tavern near the docks of Silver Moon Bay. To sever supply lines to the various islands of the South Archipelago Federation, Shelter 70's submarines were launching indiscriminate attacks on shipping across the Southern Sea, and quite a few vessels had already met their doom over the past month. If those airships were observation craft deployed by Shelter 70, their cargo ship might already be plotted on the enemy's nautical charts. Pushing open the wheelhouse door, the young man who had been steering hurried up behind him and asked, "Captain, should we keep heading forward?" Before Song Haining could speak, Mogavi chimed in excitedly, "I think we should close in and take a look! Who knows, maybe a surprise is waiting for us there." Shooting a glance at the man, who clearly failed to grasp the gravity of the situation, Song Haining pondered for a moment before turning back to the young sailor. "...Keep going forward." Even if they tried to turn around now, it would be too late. What was more, altering course at this point meant circling all the way around the southernmost tip of Baiyue Province. Not only would that double their voyage distance, but the ship simply didn't have enough supplies for it. The young man gave a tense nod, turned, and dashed back into the wheelhouse. Song Haining raised his binoculars, fixing his gaze on the two silvery-white airships, trying to discern clues from their hulls. To his regret, there were no clear identifying markings. The only thing that offered him a slight measure of relief was that both airships featured spacious cargo bays. They were plainly freight airships, not the observation craft he had feared. Furthermore— Their crude designs didn't look like the work of Shelter 70; they were more likely something cobbled together by the South Archipelago Federation. Yet another question immediately followed. What was the South Archipelago Federation doing launching balloons over the Baiyue Strait? Song Haining was thoroughly mystified. While he kept his eyes glued to the two airships, the cargo ship *Northwest Wind* continued forward, steadily closing the distance between them. When the horizontal separation had narrowed to less than three nautical miles, an unfamiliar sight suddenly appeared along the shoreline where gold sand met lush green. He wasn't the only one who noticed the coastline. The sailors and mercenaries leaning against the ship's railing to watch almost simultaneously let out cries of astonishment far louder than before. "Are there people over there?!" "And quite a few of them!" "Spirit of the Sand Sea above... have they lost their minds?!" There were no ships moored by the shore. Those people must have descended from the airships. Staring blankly at the camp situated on the shore, Song Haining's mouth hung open, rendering him speechless for a moment. Mogavi, standing beside him, shouted in excitement. "A port! It's a port!" Calling that place a port was an absolute exaggeration. It lacked even a pier extending into deep water, and the golden sand beach was in an entirely pristine state. However, the rows of tents and sheet-metal buildings, along with the perimeter earthen walls and watchtowers encircling them, truly did not look like they had been erected just today. Long ago, a rumor had circulated in the taverns of Silver Moon Bay: demons exiled by the Spirit of the Sand Sea dwelled in Baiyue Province, and no man could survive on that land for a full turn of the sun and moon. Song Haining placed no faith in any Spirit of the Sand Sea, but he believed the latter half of the rumor without reservation. A long time ago, the Camel Hump Kingdom had attempted to colonize this land, yet every single attempt had ended in failure without exception. The survivor settlements across the Southern Sea were even more of a testament to this—many of their ancestors were people who had originally fled to the islands from Baiyue Province. For someone to actually attempt setting up camp along the Baiyue Strait... Were these people suicidal?! While everyone aboard was lost in shock, two speedboats flying the flag of the South Archipelago Federation approached from the eastern waters. Spotting the figure standing at the bow of the lead speedboat from afar, Song Haining waved toward the wheelhouse behind him, signaling to stop the ship, and then shouted down toward the sailors below the gangway. "Drop anchor!" The anchor plunged from the stern, slamming heavily into the seabed. Combined with the reversed propellers, it brought the cargo vessel to a halt before long. The two speedboats split up: one held back at a distance to maintain watch, while the other pulled alongside. Leading two sailors onto the deck, Muda looked at the approaching captain and spoke concisely. "Routine inspection. Cooperate." Song Haining deftly pulled out a cigarette pack, extracted a roll, offered it forward, and smiled courteously. "Understood. Help yourself." Muda took the cigarette, though he didn't pull out matches to light it, merely slipping it into the pocket beneath his collar. He then led the two sailors toward the cargo containers stacked on deck. Seeing how slowly the group moved, Mogavi couldn't resist walking down from the gangway. "We're delivering iron ore and coal here. It's not like we're doing business with Shelter 70; besides, they don't even have a port to unload freight." Muda snorted and gave a noncommittal retort. "Not necessarily. If you intended to sell them some heavy contraband, this would be the ideal exchange point. Even if you dropped a crate overboard, no one would notice, right? Besides, the seabed here isn't deep, and there are reference points nearby, making salvage easy." Mogavi's eyes widened. "Are you joking? With a ship this large, would we bother with such petty trade?" *Holy shit, you can pull that kind of stunt?* If he had known earlier, he would have brought along some heavy goods Shelter 70 might be interested in! Muda stopped in his tracks and stared at him for a couple of seconds. Feeling chilled by that glare, Mogavi gave a sheepish smile, swallowed his words, and stepped obediently aside while making an inviting gesture. "Please... carry on." Muda paid him no further mind and continued inspecting the cargo containers stacked on deck one by one with his men. What he hadn't mentioned was that his recent mission wasn't just to stop passing ships from trading with Shelter 70; it also included intercepting refugees attempting to head for the Southern Sea. Lately, a cargo vessel called the *Rou Rou* had planted itself in their port, obstinately refusing to finish repairs. More than a thousand people were eating their food and drinking their water, and they couldn't be driven away. Although those people paid their way, these were extraordinary times, and resources on Ring Island were not abundant. Partly out of reluctance to offend the Alliance, and partly out of unrealistic hopes regarding those people, the governor's office of Ring Island hadn't taken heavy-handed measures to expel the cargo ship lingering in their harbor or cut off its supplies. Even so, they couldn't simply let those meddlesome do-gooders keep dumping refugees on their doorstep. To prevent more refugees from getting stranded at Ring Island's port, the local governor's office had an epiphany and petitioned the South Archipelago Federation's maritime patrol. If any passing ships were found carrying large groups of survivors from Brahma Province, they were to be forced to disembark near the Alliance's Port French Fries. Didn't those people love poking their noses into other folks' business? Then let them take care of it! However, this ship seemed to carry nothing but ore. After looking around, Muda saw no sign of anyone hiding, so he turned to the captain standing beside him. "I want to check below deck in the hold." "No problem." Song Haining smiled, then thought of something and looked toward the shore to the north. "By the way, do you know who those people are?" "Those people?" Muda raised an eyebrow and instinctively followed the captain's gaze toward the northern shore of the strait. After catching sight of the makeshift camp, he casually withdrew his gaze. "They're from the Alliance." "The Alliance?!" Song Haining's face filled with astonishment. "You mean... the one from River Valley Province?" Muda grunted, "Yeah." Song Haining stood dumbfounded for a long while before managing to squeeze out half a sentence. "...What are those people doing all the way out here?" River Valley Province had to be more than two thousand kilometers away! No wonder they came by airship... Muda replied impatiently, "You'll have to ask them." Following the patrol officer back to the gangway, Song Haining suddenly noticed the restless merchant calling over his mercenaries to drag an inflatable boat out onto the deck. "What are you doing?" Dusting off his hands as he straightened up, Mogavi looked with a smile at the captain walking toward him. "I plan to head close to shore and see what those folks are up to. Remember that divination I mentioned earlier? The land paved with gold! Don't you think that beach looks the part? I have a hunch! The opportunity to strike it rich is right here!" Song Haining stared blankly at him as he finished listening to his wild rambling. "...Have you gone completely mad?" Mogavi said dismissively, "Idling around here is just wasting time anyway, so why not do something? Besides, I'm only going over to take a look, not planning to spend the night ashore." Song Haining fixed him with a stare. "The inspection will be over soon. There's nothing to see below in the hold, so it won't delay you long. We'll be back on our way shortly." Mogavi gave a hearty laugh. "That works out perfectly. I'll stay down there half an hour at most. Just wait for me a bit." As he spoke, he had already instructed his men to drop the inflatable boat, fitted with black ironwood, into the water, and hurriedly threw a life jacket over himself. Watching this reckless daredevil, Song Haining's eyebrow twitched violently, but in the end, he swallowed his words. "...Come back soon." He swore to himself. For the sake of money, this was the last business deal he would ever do with this man. Gripping the ladder with both hands, Mogavi grinned. "You got it!"