"...Mr. Lister, please reconsider! I can assure you that the things you're worried about will never happen in White Elephant City."
Dawn City, Embassy Street, inside the embassy of the Xilan Empire.
Personally pouring Lister a cup of black tea, Duke Garawa spoke with an earnest—almost fawning—expression.
Yet after hearing him out, Lister merely let out a soft sigh.
"And just how can you guarantee what you're saying right now?"
Duke Garawa's eyes shone with resolve as he declared, "I can swear upon the God of the White Elephant, as well as my family crest and title!"
The corner of Lister's mouth twitched as he fought the urge to smirk, though in the end he maintained a polite facade and refrained from laughing out loud.
"With all due respect, that is the least sincere promise possible."
Duke Garawa froze, his expression gradually souring into displeasure. "You... you dare say that is not sincere enough?! Then pray tell, what would qualify as a sincere promise?"
Lister sighed gently. "Let me give you a very simple example. Doing business in the Alliance requires nothing more than abiding by the law, and the law is something that can be negotiated. The Workers' Association can negotiate, the Consumer Association can negotiate, and naturally, we can as well..."
Before Lister could finish, Duke Garawa's face lit up with delight, and he cut in eagerly, "We don't have all that hassle!"
Watching the smug satisfaction that had appeared from nowhere on the man's face, Lister spread his hands. "That is precisely the problem."
Not only did the man lack such mechanisms, he actually viewed those safeguards as hassles.
He didn't even realize that the more he flaunted his supreme authority back home, the more Lister dreaded the arbitrary tyranny he could inflict on a whim.
Some of the Alliance's recent "new money" might not have experienced it, but an "old money" figure like Lister, who had built substantial business back during the Boulder City era, knew all too well what it felt like to be treated like a dog.
That was why, when the Administrator invited him to live like a real human being, he hadn't hesitated to throw away the black card he had moved heaven and earth to acquire.
Events had proven that he had indeed backed the right person. The Administrator truly delivered on every single promise he made, and on top of that, never interfered with unnecessary meddling.
The latter was the rarest and most commendable quality of all. Lister had been tempted more than once to write "Eternal Follower of That Esteemed Lord" into his newly started family genealogy.
For this man to think he could cajole Lister into becoming a dog with a single appetizing bone was vastly underestimating him.
From the moment Lister first laid eyes on Duke Garawa, he knew the man was cut from the exact same cloth as the nobles of the inner city—inferior, in fact. At least Lord Xide maintained a shred of restraint regarding how he wielded power, such as never personally descending to the gambling tables to fleece chips.
This man, on the other hand, practically had "I am heaven itself" stamped on his forehead. As humble and obsequious as he acted now, he would be equally insolent and overbearing later.
Doing business with someone like that meant never bringing a single copper home.
Even stepping back ten thousand paces, when evaluating a nascent, emerging market, Lister preferred investing in a capable individual rather than the market itself.
And this fellow was clearly not the kind of person worth backing; he simply happened to sit on a mountain of resources at the moment.
With someone bound to collapse who knew when, Lister would only ever consider short-term deals, never long-term ventures.
Yet Duke Garawa completely misread Lister's unyielding indifference, assuming instead that that certain someone was meddling behind the scenes again.
A flicker of resentment crept onto his face as he muttered under his breath, "Did that man say something to you after all?"
Lister paused, taking a moment to decipher the clue in the duke's expression before finally failing to hold back a burst of laughter.
"Mr. Garawa, I hope you understand that our Administrator doesn't really care how we run our businesses. He is far busier than you can imagine. If doing business in White Elephant City were profitable, we would naturally go there... But forget about profit, I can't even find where that settlement is on a map."
Speaking of which, his sole impression of White Elephant City came from a column in a previous issue of the Survivor Daily, which had reprinted an essay titled Red Earth.
All indications pointed to a destitute backwater dominated by manorial agriculture. And as everyone knew, selling goods to livestock made no sense.
As for turning livestock into human beings, that was work for people like the Administrator; no one could expect a profit-driven merchant like Lister to do it.
He wasn't a shelter resident, nor did he possess any appetite for charity.
That said, Port Golden Gallon had been developing nicely lately, and local education levels were improving. Lister had toyed with the idea of setting up a branch factory there to manufacture things desperately needed in the Southern Sea—batteries, turbines, inverters, and the like—but it remained merely an idea on paper.
Far too many uncertainties and risks kept him from making a hasty move.
A look of disappointment crossed Duke Garawa's face, yet he was not entirely discouraged.
He consoled himself inwardly that Lister hadn't given an outright refusal. Perhaps the chips on the table weren't substantial enough, and the man just needed a bit more wearing down...
For the remainder of their exchange, both men tacitly avoided business talk, simply drinking tea and chatting to cultivate goodwill.
Even though Lister saw right through the duke's scheme, he didn't mind building rapport, which also helped him stay informed about Brahma Province.
When the meeting concluded, Duke Garawa cordially escorted him all the way to the embassy entrance, watching until Lister's chauffeured vehicle vanished around the street corner before heading back inside.
Meanwhile, in the back seat of the private car, Lister had already put Duke Garawa completely out of mind. He picked up the latest issue of the Survivor Daily his secretary had purchased in advance and began leafing through it.
The headline covered Coral City.
This jewel of the Southern Sea was currently the hottest topic in Dawn City. Plenty of people had booked flights to Port French Fries specifically to board a submarine there and take a look.
While most viewed it merely as a resort or tourist haven, Lister understood its true value.
The construction of Coral City had utilized extensive material science and engineering technologies salvaged from the Tianting space station. That undersea settlement would become the Alliance's bridgehead for exploiting the space legacies of the Era of Prosperity.
The Alliance's Scientific Expedition and Institute of Biological Research had already swung into action, with several capable private enterprises following close behind.
If Lister could unearth something from it and develop it into products needed by Alliance society, his enterprise would undoubtedly reach a whole new level.
As Lister pondered this, an inconspicuous news item at the bottom of page three caught his eye.
"...The Moon Clan Resistance has entered Mammoth City and announced the occupation of Mammoth State. Meanwhile, a spokesperson for the new administration in Mammoth State telephoned the editorial office of the Survivor Daily (Port Golden Gallon edition), announcing in print that Mammoth State will become the first abolitionist state in Brahma Province. Resistance leader Laxi stated they will abide by the joint platform advocated by the Coalition and called upon people of insight everywhere to unite against imperial tyranny."
Mammoth State?
Where was that?
Lister blinked, then reached for his tablet to check the world map. He finally located the territory in the upper-right corner of the "Zoo Province."
A river much shorter than the Everflowing River, the Tasang River, flowed through Mammoth State into the Brahma Sea, while just across the Zhuobar Mountains lay Silver Moon Bay, the jewel of Sunset Province.
"The location isn't bad at all," Lister chuckled softly, shaking his head. "A pity it's held by a bunch of natives."
If only the Baiyue Company could push further forward.
With that thought, he turned to the next page, only to find another article syndicated from the Survivor Daily (Port Golden Gallon edition) regarding Mammoth State.
According to the Resistance's telegram, the imperial army's demolition of the Tasang River embankment had caused catastrophic damage throughout Mammoth State, displacing vast numbers of survivors.
Resistance leader Laxi stated that the Resistance would not abandon the survivors of Mammoth State and would do everything in their power to conduct disaster relief. They also appealed to individuals of insight across Port Golden Gallon to assist with reconstruction efforts and help resettle displaced survivors.
Concurrently, the former governor of Mammoth State, Duke Bamute, had faced a public trial on the dockyard square of Mammoth City. In court, he admitted to all charges, testifying that blowing up the embankment was his personal decision, which had left a million survivors homeless.
Driven by public outrage, on the very day the trial concluded, the Resistance's temporary military tribunal approved the execution of Duke Bamute by firing squad. Eight Resistance soldiers convicted of robbery and six convicted of rape were executed alongside him.
In an interview, Roger, Secretary-General of the Port Golden Gallon Coalition, remarked that this demonstrated Laxi's determination to enforce military discipline.
Debate persisted within the Port Golden Gallon Coalition over whether Laxi was a qualified leader, but most senior leadership remained optimistic.
It was understood that Laxi had previously been a slave, and after capturing the Lowell Camp, he had likewise executed subordinates for abducting civilian women.
Certain figures in the Alliance had criticized his methods as overly crude, but he had evidently taken the criticism to heart since then—establishing courts, a disaster relief office, and other institutions—which was among the reasons senior Coalition officials viewed him favorably.
According to this paper's editorial staff, over the past two centuries, Brahma Province had witnessed countless civil conflicts, both large and small. Allowing troops to loot after sacking a settlement was an accepted custom, much like the marauders of the River Valley, Jinchuan, and Yuema provinces who mimicked mutant cannibalism. Forbidding soldiers from burning, killing, and looting after taking a settlement was exceptionally rare...
"This guy has something to him."
By the time Lister reached the end of the report, an intrigued expression had surfaced on his face. He reread the article from start to finish, growing increasingly convinced that this man was far from simple.
His actions featured plenty of clumsy imitation mixed with crude adjustments, but putting those clumsy methods aside, the man was far more capable than the fellow Lister had met just now.
Furthermore, as a Moon Clan native who had seized an entire imperial state, Laxi had struck the Empire right where it hurt most. Tiandu would never let him off the hook.
To preserve balance with the Legion, the Alliance would likely refrain from meddling in Brahma Province; the likelihood of deploying troops directly was near zero.
If this Laxi wanted to secure his footing right beneath the Empire's nose, he would have no choice but to cling tightly to the Alliance's coattails.
"Han Long, a moneymaking opportunity has arrived."
Seeing his employer beam with delight, Han Long, sitting in the front passenger seat, blinked in confusion. "Boss, didn't you say Brahma Province had no investment value?"
Snapping the newspaper in his hands, Lister gave a faint smile. "That proves you didn't understand what I told you. In an emerging market, what's worth investing in is the individual, not the market itself, because people are generally what steer places like that. A fool naturally isn't worth a dime, but a strongman is definitely worth a wager."
Pausing, he continued, "How about this: in a few days, accompany Qian Duo on a trip out there."
Qian Duo and Qian Lai were his subordinates and had followed him for a long time; Lister felt it was about time to send them out for some real-world seasoning.
Han Long hesitated slightly upon hearing this. "But... what about your security?"
Lister burst out laughing. "What security issues could there possibly be in Dawn City? You need to update your thinking. This place stopped being an 'emerging market' a long time ago."
* * *
Unlike the civil war in the Southern Sea, the Moon Clan Resistance entering Mammoth City was far less celebrated or sensational than the Southern Sea Alliance pushing into North Island, nor did it rattle the nerves of anyone on the wasteland—even though the latter was less than half the former's size.
Dawn City Television gave the event only a brief mention. When Bannote, the Legion's ambassador to the Alliance, saw news of Mammoth City, his first reaction wasn't to call his allies, but to pick up a map and check.
Discovering that the wretched place lay on the eastern coast of Brahma Province, separated by several states from West Sail Port on the western coast and far beyond the sphere of influence of the Legion's civilian faction, he promptly tossed the matter aside, not bothering to care.
The adjacent Hump Kingdom felt a brief pang of anxiety, primarily over the prospect of large hordes of refugees flooding across their borders.
The royal court of the Hump Kingdom was an enlightened theocratic monarchy, but enlightened or not, it remained a theocracy.
They could tolerate the Silver Moon Church's novel interpretations of fundamentalist dogma, allow heretical merchants to bring in treasures they fancied, and even permit the Alliance to station troops in Silver Moon Bay—after all, they had requested it themselves. But under no circumstances could they tolerate heretics begging for scraps on the sacred territory of the Spirit of the Sand Sea.
On this matter, the merchant nobles of Silver Moon Bay stood in extraordinary alignment with the royal house. After all, if that mob of beggars entered Hump Kingdom territory, Silver Moon Bay would be their very first stop.
Several local merchant guilds leaped into action, proactively contacting Laxi, leader of the Resistance. Claiming gratitude for his protection of the local chapel, they offered him a ten-million-silver-coin interest-free aid loan under the guise of disaster relief.
Hearing of such a windfall, Laxi agreed without hesitation, even carving out a "parish" for those charlatans outside Mammoth City.
Within the parish, apart from abiding by local administration laws, no taxes of any kind were levied; the residents of Silver Moon Bay were free to do whatever they pleased using their own methods.
It was barren wasteland anyway. Leaving it idle served no purpose, so handing it over to those Silver Moon Bay faithful obsessed with colonization to develop was just as well.
Besides, with residents of Silver Moon Bay and Brahma Province having lived side by side for so long, the locals weren't particularly averse to those cat-loving traders.
Once they developed the land, he could decide whether to reclaim it or set a price to continue leasing it to them. In his eyes, everything was negotiable.
While Laxi's administration in Mammoth State simultaneously expanded their military amidst the disaster, begged for funds everywhere under the pretext of flood relief, and vigorously pushed forward their "New Policy," the imperial court finally woke up to realize that a massive chunk was missing from their four-million-square-kilometer map.
Inside the palace at Tiandu, Wutuo hastily summoned his ministers and confidants, holding closed-door discussions inside the council chamber.
The assembled officials scratched their ears and cheeks in anxiety, bickering endlessly without a single person offering a viable plan.
Unable to watch any longer, Prince Dilip stepped forward and asked tentatively, "What if we order the regional forces of Bird State and Horse State to muster toward Mammoth State from the west and south? The Moon Clan Resistance has no firm footing in Mammoth State, and the local disaster is severe. The moment our army bears down on them, they will likely crumble on their own."
Nihak felt a jolt of alarm. Before Wutuo could answer, he hurried forward to remonstrate, "Your Majesty! Absolutely not! The Tiger Army and Black Panther Army have already grown into unruly, entrenched threats! It is easy to assemble the armies of Bird State and Horse State, but disbanding them afterward will be impossible!"
Upon hearing Prince Dilip's suggestion, Wutuo had originally been contemplating a nod, but hearing Nihak's voice broke him out in a cold sweat, thinking to himself what a close call it was.
Seeing the shift in Wutuo's expression, Nihak couldn't help clenching his sweaty palms, thanking his lucky stars that he had spoken up fast; a moment later, there would have been no room to maneuver.
Pausing, he ignored Prince Dilip's displeased glare, lowered his head, and pressed on, "Your Majesty, Mammoth State is a minor matter. We must never throw our own ranks into disarray. If the thirteen states of Brahma Province follow the example of Tiger State and Leopard State by hoarding military power for self-preservation, smoke will rise along both banks of the Everflowing River, and Brahma Province will plunge right back into the chaos of a century ago!"
"Then what do you propose we do?" Prince Dilip glared at him irritably. "Are we supposed to just leave Mammoth State alone?"
"We must deal with it!" Nihak raised his head, eyes fixed intently on Wutuo. "However, given the current circumstances, only the central army can be deployed! We need a resounding victory to show the provinces our power."
Pausing again, he added, "Let Alaiyang take the field!"
The hall erupted into an uproar. Utter bewilderment washed over the officials' faces as they stared at this fellow, wondering if his captivity by the Alliance had driven him mad.
Call upon Alaiyang?
Wouldn't that simply repeat the catastrophe of Port Golden Gallon?!
Hearing that name, even Wutuo, seated high upon the throne, knitted his brows.
Before the nobles and officials could protest, Prince Dilip stepped out first, glaring at Duke Nihak for contradicting him. "That man is nothing more than a defeated general at the hands of the Alliance. How could he possibly be a match for Laxi?!"
Duke Nihak replied in a deep voice, "Precisely because he fought the Alliance, he knows how to handle their methods!"
Prince Dilip was on the verge of retorting, *I lost as well, so why not send me?* but realized in time that this would only dig his own grave. Flushed red, he changed tack and nitpicked from another angle: "But if the Gray Wolf Army is redeployed away from the Port Golden Gallon border, wouldn't that leave the entire borderline under the control of the Tiger Army and Black Panther Army?!"
Duke Nihak said with deep grief, "What difference does it make right now whether they stay or go? The officers trained for us by the Legion have all been corrupted by those treacherous ingrates! We might as well seize this opportunity to move the remaining loyal troops north, if only to suppress the restless stirrings in Horse State and Bird State!"
The Wolf Clan were the Empire's most loyal warriors, and the Gray Wolf Army, serving as part of the central forces, was the only army outside the imperial clan possessing absolute loyalty toward Tiandu.
As for the provincial forces, their actions had already proven beyond doubt that they could not be trusted.
Unless the Empire freed its hands to eliminate the warlords of the Tiger and Black Panther armies, employing any local provincial forces right now was simply pouring oil on the fire!
Listening to Nihak's reasoning, Wutuo fell into deep contemplation.
While an amateur in external warfare, he still possessed keen political instincts regarding internal imperial affairs.
"...We will proceed as Duke Nihak suggests. Dispatch the Gray Wolf Army to Mammoth State to suppress the rebels. In addition, Dilip, travel to the capitals of Horse State and Bird State. Inform the local nobility not to panic, and instruct them to take charge of the Gray Wolf Army's supplies."
Though bitter, Prince Dilip could only bow his head in obedience since His Majesty's decree had been handed down. "By your command."
Seeing that His Majesty hadn't assigned him a task, Duke Nihak couldn't resist speaking up. "Your Majesty, I, too, can share your burdens!"
Ever since returning from Port Golden Gallon, he had been idle for quite some time.
As a duke with an empty title and no fiefdom, if he remained idle any longer, he feared there wouldn't even be a seat left for him in this court.
Seeing Nihak's eagerness, Wutuo showed no hurry, speaking in an unhurried, measured tone, "You have a far more important task. I want you to take a ship to the Southern Sea and finalize the loan arrangement I spoke of earlier."
Nihak froze. He hadn't expected His Majesty to bring up the Southern Sea out of nowhere, and his mind failed to pivot in time.
With such grave events unfolding recently, he had assumed His Majesty had forgotten that matter entirely, never imagining he was still dwelling on it.
"But Your Majesty... with rebels right before us, is it appropriate for us to pursue this right now?"
Wutuo waved it away dismissively. "The bandits are making trouble along the Tasang River, which is far from the Everflowing River. Besides, a rabble of brigands is nothing more than an itch on the skin, hardly worth worrying about. The top priority is to kickstart that economy of ours."
Mammoth State wasn't even a majority Moon Clan state. Moreover, Moon Clan members throughout Brahma Province had already been purged by his orders; any survivors were confined to farms or slave camps. Anxious though he was, deep down he simply didn't believe a resistance army cobbled together by slaves could stir up any great waves.
Furthermore, he had recently tasted the sweet benefits of having money.
Especially after seeing the photograph of the Grand Ideal Hotel taken by Garawa, jealousy had driven him half-mad.
Though his own palace was floating, it was still far shorter than the height of the Grand Ideal Hotel—no wonder the Wilante scoffed at his palace.
Once the Empire grew wealthy in the future, he would also have the people of Ideal City come build him a secondary palace capable of touching the clouds.
Still, one had to eat food bite by bite, and undermine the competition brick by brick.
While the "War of Heaven" in Haiya Province was still ongoing, he could strike at the Southern Sea, where the Alliance currently had no bandwidth to intervene.
That was the safest place.
The Alliance wasn't the Legion. That Administrator had at least spoken of ending the wasteland; he couldn't possibly deploy troops just because Wutuo conducted a bit of "small business" down there, could he?
Once the Empire became the largest creditor of the Southern Sea, that so-called Southern Sea Alliance would become Wutuo's lapdog, and it would be too late for the Alliance to regret it.
As he laid out the plan in his mind, a smug grin plastered Wutuo's face. The assembled officials wore expressions of sudden enlightenment, loudly praising His Majesty's brilliant foresight.
Only the finance minister wore a rather telling smile, or perhaps a look of stifled grievance.
Brahma Province was vast, but there were countless mouths to feed.
He recognized that lending Xilan currency to the Southern Sea was indeed a good way to clear their backlog of cement, but this lending scheme was a rather crude mimicry.
What if the other side defaulted?
Could the Empire sail a fleet over to knock on their doors and demand repayment, or did the Southern Sea Alliance hold massive investments within the Empire that could be seized as collateral?
Handling that bad debt when the time came would be another nightmare.
If the other side proved cooperative, slapping a string of zeros onto the price of their local coral to offset the debt might save face for both parties.
If they refused to cooperate, the creditor would probably just have to be "magnanimous" about it...
* * *
At the same time the Empire was mobilizing to suppress the Moon Clan rebels, far away in the Southern Sea Alliance, Interim President Li Minghui was fretting over a labor shortage.
It was now late October.
Reconstruction across the northern islands had been underway for nearly a month, yet due to a lack of manpower, progress remained sluggish.
The construction teams from Baiyue Company were primarily responsible for projects like the North Island naval base and the ocean current power stations, but those were far from the only places requiring rebuilding.
Consequently, the Southern Sea Alliance found itself in an awkward predicament.
Although their technological reserves were staggering and they did not lack highly educated talent, they were severely short of laborers capable of manual work.
Even if automation could solve part of the problem, that would have to wait until the ocean current power stations and the advanced productive capacity of the islands were fully restored.
Put plainly, distant water could not quench immediate thirst. What they needed right now weren't PhDs and engineers, but massive hordes of concrete-pourers and brick-haulers.
They didn't even need these people to be literate; simply understanding the Human Alliance language was enough.
Recently, Port French Fries had opened an immigration corridor from Port Golden Gallon to the Baiyue Strait, and Li Minghui was contemplating whether the Southern Sea Alliance ought to attract immigrants as well.
Yet that option carried plenty of problems of its own.
The Southern Sea Alliance's Assembly of Representatives was far more xenophobic than the Alliance's, and distrust of outsiders was practically second nature to the island inhabitants.
Even Ring Island, the most pro-Alliance of them all, had consistently opposed the influx of foreign populations, while remaining utterly unbothered by native survivors emigrating outward.
If he forcibly pushed through legislation lowering immigration barriers right now, it might benefit the Southern Sea Alliance's post-war recovery in the long run, but it would inevitably pit him against the Southern Sea Alliance's survivors and squarely against the Assembly.
Why bother?
Counting on his fingers, he had only a few months left in his term as interim president, just waiting for the "War of Heaven" to wrap up.
Having just won a splendid victory, Li Minghui only wanted to avoid mistakes for the remainder of his term, hand back his authority as a hero, complete the final and most glorious chapter of his epic, and then peacefully serve as navy commander until reaching retirement age.
In the future, when there was a war to fight, he'd step up; when there wasn't, he'd feed seagulls, blast fish, and hit the bars in Port French Fries for a few drinks and some bragging whenever he was free.
His life had already been plenty thrilling.
As for that bastard Chalas, he'd never get to hear drunks sing his "praises"—if the fellow were still alive right now, he'd be green with envy.
Mulling it over from every angle, Li Minghui finally came around: there was truly no need to mope through the final stretch of his presidency.
Yet just as he had resolved everything in his mind and prepared to toss the report aside, dumping all these thorny issues onto his successors, a knock sounded at his office door.
Taking a sip of black tea from his cup, Li Minghui sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Come in."
The door swung open.
In walked his political secretary. "Mr. President, someone is here to see you."
Li Minghui assumed an expression of deep concern, his fingers laced over the desk. "Who wants to see me? What is it regarding?"
Looking at the president who seemed to toil tirelessly over every matter, large and small, in the Southern Sea, the secretary said respectfully, "It is a representative from the Mammoth City authorities. He says he can resolve your most pressing crisis..."
Mammoth City?
Li Minghui blinked, instinctively reaching for the map of Baiyue Province to see when the Alliance had added a new dish to their menu right at his doorstep.
However, seeing this, the secretary standing before the desk gave an awkward cough and whispered a gentle reminder:
"It's the other map..."
Chapter 779