"...All suffering survivors across the wasteland are comrades on the same front. Though we have not yet fought side by side, I believe that kindhearted as you are, you would never refuse to be friends with the people of Bolo Province."
Zayed's mind raced.
Though he had not yet recovered from his stunned stupor, he still instinctively humbled his posture, frantically trying to regain some favor from the young girl.
"My name is Zayed... Esteemed Miss Alisa, I am terribly sorry to disturb you so presumptuously in this manner."
Slick humor might smooth over awkwardness, but it was clearly not endearing.
However, seeing that he had offered his name on his own initiative, Alisa relaxed her furrowed brow and spoke in a softened tone.
"Alisa. Pleased to meet you... And you?"
Not expecting the noble young lady to turn her gaze toward him, Vassa, standing behind Zayed, didn't dare meet those beautiful eyes and stammered, "I... Vassa."
Seeing the boy's timid, useless display, Zayed sighed and looked toward Alisa with an apologetic expression.
"Apologies. He is... my student, and also my assistant. Quite capable, but a bit shy around strangers."
"I'm sorry!" Vassa hurriedly bowed in apology.
Seeing the clumsy lad, Alisa suddenly thought of herself from a year ago. She couldn't help a faint smile and said gently, "There's no need to apologize for that. No one is born capable of standing on their own. A... friend of mine used to burst into tears whenever she hit a snag, but now she can calmly think through solutions. I believe you can do the same. After all, you've walked a much farther road than she ever did."
She didn't know how far Bolo Province was, but it had to be vastly farther than the distance between Boulder City and Dawn City.
"Thank you..."
Her voice felt like a gentle spring breeze. The youth buried his head even lower, staring intently at the tips of his shoes as a hot flush crept from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
What a truly kind girl!
No one had ever encouraged him like this—not even his closest family.
Though he did not doubt that Mr. Zayed was in the right, he couldn't help feeling confused... Had this gentleman, who had always helped and guided him, misunderstood something?
Shifting her gaze back to Zayed's face, Alisa continued in a slightly sterner tone:
"Mr. Zayed, I'm not a petty person. If you are genuinely sorry, you can just tell me directly. Please don't use the survivors of Bolo Province as a shield. Of course we would be delighted to be friends with the survivors of Bolo Province, but you don't represent them."
"Indeed... that was thoughtless of me." Zayed admitted his fault briskly and frankly.
Perhaps his deduction really was flawed.
This woman who nitpicked over trivial matters didn't seem shrewd or calculating at all; instead, she struck him as rather... silly?
If she looked down on him because of his lack of capital, that would be one thing, but that clearly wasn't the reason. She seemed more like she was throwing a childish tantrum.
Did it really matter whether one lied about such a harmless matter? In the end, it hadn't caused any real harm.
Not to mention that he had smoothly smoothed things over without embarrassing her; anyone with the slightest political sophistication would have laughed it off.
And if he ended up winning in the end, this might even have become a charming anecdote on people's lips.
Even so, he didn't believe there was anything wrong with his analytical reasoning—merely an intelligence gap.
Investigating someone in Dawn City was exceedingly difficult, especially for someone like him who was still in the startup phase. He had no loyal bodyguards devoted to him, nor did he possess diplomatic immunity, and he had to be constantly careful not to break the Alliance's laws.
Alisa nodded slightly and spoke softly to the ill-humored staff member beside her.
"I truly haven't met them before, but they don't seem to be bad people. It was probably just a misunderstanding."
Still looking uneasy, the staff member asked earnestly, "Are you sure you don't need me to call security?"
Alisa said, caught between tears and laughter, "No need, really. No reason to trouble anyone over something so minor. I'll handle it."
The man's expression gradually relaxed. He shot Zayed a couple of warning glares that seemed to say, 'I've memorized your face,' before turning and walking back into the arena.
After watching him leave, Alisa looked back at Zayed.
"Let's get down to business. What do you need from me? Mm... though before that, I'm actually more curious to know where you heard my name."
A genial smile appeared on Zayed's face; after all, he still had a favor to ask of the girl before him.
"You underestimate your own fame, Miss. Your name is known to all in Boulder City, rivaling even that fictional Boer."
Alisa replied politely, "You flatter me. I'm not that remarkable."
Zayed smiled and continued, "Not at all, I have no intention of flattering you. Rather... I truly admire you."
Alisa maintained her polite expression, but her smile remained distant and guarded.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere, you know."
"Your guard against me is too high. In truth, every word I speak comes from the heart..." Gazing into those perceptive eyes, Zayed assumed an innocent look and sighed. "From drunkards in the beer taverns to newspaper delivery boys, to the teller ladies behind the bank counters... every single person speaks exceptionally highly of you.
"Without exception, they praise your bravery and kindness, crediting you with sparing them from the worst outcome and ultimately realizing an almost impossible miracle.
"To be frank, I do not believe gods exist in this world, yet I cannot help but wonder if you are blessed by divine favor. After all, if it had been anyone else, it is unlikely they would have met with such a good end."
Hearing his impassioned words, Alisa suddenly found herself half-believing a few of them.
Perhaps he truly did view her through a lens of admiration, but what he worshipped was neither her character nor the things she took pride in.
It was something else entirely...
Like the shadows in a sketch used to set off the bright highlights.
If that was the case, then the people of Bolo Province were truly pitiful.
It was highly probable that the province was an even vaster casino than the Boulder City of the past, and the chips staked in that casino were likely astronomical figures she had never even heard of.
A fine sheen of sweat broke out across Alisa's brow.
Instinctively wishing to save those people, she spoke up:
"...Indeed. Even today, thinking back on what happened, I still feel a lingering dread. But I don't believe I was blessed by any god, let alone that I'm some miracle."
Unaware of what she was thinking, Zayed smiled in a tone akin to coaxing a child.
"If even that doesn't count as a miracle, then what possibly could?"
Alisa replied without hesitation, "The residents of Boulder City."
Zayed was taken aback for a moment.
"The residents of Boulder City? Ah... of course. I don't deny they were indispensable as well. Their courage and ideals were equally impressive—"
"The residents of Boulder City,"
Alisa repeated. Her voice, which brooked no argument, carried a tinge of longing—or rather, a plea.
"Why do you think I am the miracle...? When it was they who kept searching for light when night fell, they who never gave up even after the flame of hope had been extinguished countless times, they—every single one of them you met before finding me—who are the miracles. Why do you believe *I* was the miracle?"
Zayed froze.
Not because the girl had spoken words unbefitting her age, but because he couldn't comprehend why she had grown so emotional.
What was this...?
Was this such an important matter?
His pleasantries were merely intended to curry favor with her, but it seemed his flattery had backfired once again.
What on earth did this girl want?
Zayed couldn't help feeling a stir of irritation, though he didn't let it show on his face.
Seemingly sensing his impatience or resistance, Alisa stared fixedly into his eyes, her words quickening involuntarily.
"...Mr. Zayed, I must say it once more: before the true tide, my life and death are utterly insignificant! Whether I died that night or not, wherever my corpse might have ended up hanging, it wouldn't have affected Boulder City's tomorrow in the slightest. The sun would still rise, and then set when its time came.
"I'm not any miracle like you imagined. The people who spared me—they are the true miracle.
"They could have let that fire burn unchecked, blamed every wrong on a little girl, and trampled over our corpses to move into the Inner City. They could have become the new masters of the casino, but they closed it with their own hands... Every single person who walked out of that casino is a miracle."
What a naive way of thinking...
No.
Idiotic was more like it.
Zayed looked at her coldly, though his warm, breezy smile didn't change a bit.
Actually, she hadn't completely missed the mark. There was at least one sentence he agreed with, and it had unexpectedly sparked an epiphany in his mind.
*If that fire was allowed to burn unchecked...*
Though doing that would probably get a lot of people killed.
"Mr. Zayed?"
Hearing that concerned voice, Zayed snapped back to reality and smiled at Alisa.
"Yes?"
"Nothing..."
A flicker of fear showed in Alisa's eyes. For a split second just now, she had glimpsed something terrifying in his gaze.
Swallowing hard once more, she said hurriedly:
"If you are asking how to save the residents of Bolo Province, why not start by running a newspaper? Let the survivors speak with their own voice..."
Zayed gave a soft cough, cutting off her endless rambling.
"I'm truly sorry... While I find your theory fascinating, the sun is about to set. Perhaps the next time we meet, we can have a proper chat. By the way, if it's not inconvenient, I'd like to ask you for a favor."
Alisa paused, but still gave a slight nod.
"What favor?"
"I would like you to introduce me to the Alliance's Administrator."
"The... the Administrator?" Alisa stared at him blankly, failing to keep up with his jarring shift in train of thought.
Zayed nodded and looked intently into her eyes, speaking with gravity:
"I need his help... or rather, we do."
Meeting those fervent eyes, Alisa immediately understood what he meant, but fell silent.
Objectively speaking, the Alliance had indeed reduced the suffering the survivors of Boulder City had to endure, but what ended that suffering in the end were the survivors of Boulder City themselves.
When one cannot be certain what lies at the bottom of the mountain, acceleration does not always lead to a good outcome.
"May I ask you a question?"
"Please, go ahead."
"When everything is over... when the Wasteland Era ends, is there anything you want to do?"
As if worried Zayed might misunderstand again, Alisa quickly added:
"I don't mean grand wishes or ambitions, just things you simply want to do. Like horseback riding, or painting... any hobby will do."
"Those things are the indulgences of aristocrats. I won't allow myself to be corrupted by such decadence," Zayed said with an amused smile. "I haven't thought about anything so distant yet. My only wish is to save the people of Bolo Province and let the light of equality shine across every inch of land along the Everflowing River. I have no other thoughts in my heart."
A hint of disappointment surfaced in Alisa's eyes. Her lips parted, but in the end, countless unspoken words dissolved into a soft sigh.
"I know a very kind old grandfather... He said that once he retires, he wants to build a small wooden cabin by a lake, grow some flowers and plants, do a bit of fishing, things like that."
Zayed asked, "And who is he?"
"The creator of Mr. Fang Ming..."
Alisa suddenly raised her head. Her gaze was firmer than ever before as she took a deep breath and said, "I will never, ever introduce you to the Administrator... Please leave!"
Her refusal was blunt and unvarnished.
If she had been undecided before, she was now completely certain: talking to this man was casting pearls before swine.
This fellow, who prattled on about equality at every turn, looked down on the very things he preached more than anyone else did.
He had planned out everything, yet hadn't planned where he himself would fit into that new world.
In the end, all he wanted was to be a god in the new world, to swap the signboard on the casino and keep running the racket.
There would be no next time.
She would not speak another word to him. She even felt a twinge of regret over what she had just said; she shouldn't have told him what the true miracle was.
This guy was no comrade!
He might very well be an enemy...
If he ever truly succeeded, he would immediately seal shut every drafty window in the entire casino!
Confronted by her chilling gaze, Zayed didn't get angry, merely bowing slightly.
"It seems I have caused you displeasure... My apologies."
Regrettable as it was, nothing could be done.
The meeting ended on a sour note.
With no further reason to linger, Zayed turned and walked away without looking back, taking his young apprentice with him.
On the way back, Vassa looked at Mr. Zayed with utter bewilderment and finally couldn't hold back the confusion in his heart:
"I did say... we should have approached her in a more tactful way."
"The outcome would be the same. If she were the person we were looking for, we could meet the Administrator through her no matter what. Unfortunately, she isn't, so this path was a dead end from the start."
As if to find an excuse for his miscalculation, or perhaps genuinely believing it, Zayed paused and continued:
"In fact, it might not be a bad thing after all."
"A good thing?" Vassa was thoroughly perplexed.
"That's right."
Zayed nodded gently, speaking unconcernedly:
"At the very least, through that test just now, I can confirm that she does indeed maintain written correspondence with the Alliance's Administrator... Whatever form their exchanges take, their viewpoints overlap on certain issues.
"We only spent an afternoon to figure out the Administrator's preferences. As a test of the waters for an investment... this transaction was quite a bargain."
Vassa said somewhat dejectedly, "But she won't help us anymore..."
He wasn't sure whether his regret stemmed from the likelihood of never seeing that beautiful lady again, or from genuine sorrow over the fate of the Family Society.
Perhaps both.
Zayed smiled faintly.
"It doesn't matter. There are plenty of ways to secure an audience with that gentleman. What truly matters is what comes after we meet him."
If at first he had indeed entertained the notion of courting Alisa as a potential political ally, the moment he realized she was fundamentally still a child, he abandoned the thought immediately.
Having a naive person as an ally was far too troublesome; she was better used as a touchstone.
Next time he met the Alliance's Administrator, he would make sure to skirt all the landmines.
Just like he had heeded the vault residents' advice and changed the Equality Society to the Family Society.
He could polish his persona further and say as much of what that gentleman liked to hear as possible...
"What if she writes to the Administrator about this?" Vassa whispered.
If it were him, and there were other restless voices stirring within the Family Society, he would tell Mr. Zayed without hesitation.
He felt that the young lady, like him, would probably do the exact same thing.
Zayed's expression froze slightly, but quickly relaxed.
"I wouldn't rule out the possibility... Children do love to tell tales. But I believe that gentleman certainly won't blindly trust one side of the story; he'll listen to both sides."
And for someone of humble origins like him, what he lacked most was an in.
"If she really does mention me in her letter to the Administrator, I should actually thank her for doing me a favor."
...
At the southernmost tip of the central axis of the distant Mid-Continent lay a port known as Evernight Port.
It sat at the southern extremity of the Human Alliance's former Southern Industrial Zone, gazing across the sea at the Antarctic wasteland.
Because it was so remote, it was a place where not even the map-exploring enthusiasts of the White Bear Knights had ever set foot.
If mapped against the real world, the port's location would roughly correspond to South Africa, albeit at a somewhat higher latitude.
At the same time, this was likely the southernmost settlement across the entire wasteland.
When the Legion first set foot upon this land, it happened to be winter in the southern hemisphere, a season of short days and long nights.
Thus, the settlement was christened Evernight Port by the Wilante colonists.
Unlike the Eastern Legion, which held vast plains, the Southern Legion's territories were far more fragmented. Aside from a peninsula in their homeland, most of their domain was scattered along the coastlines of the former Western Industrial Zone and Southern Industrial Zone across the Great Desert.
Although the soil in these lands was barren and incapable of supporting crops, it was rich in mineral deposits.
Owing to this series of factors, the Southern Legion differed substantially from the Eastern Legion in its style of operation.
Rather than military aristocrats with sprawling pastures and manors, they were more akin to late-medieval colonizers.
While they were just as ruthless when exploiting other ethnicities, they did not shy away from using more subtle methods when it aligned with their interests.
Such as bribing locals to rule over locals.
Such as permitting slaves to buy their freedom.
Or substituting contract slaves with debt slaves, and so forth.
After all, they didn't have as much land to waste as the Eastern Legion; they had to put some thought into figuring out how to raise the productivity of their colonies.
It was precisely because of this operational style that they maintained close ties with the civil faction in Triumph City.
Naturally, similar styles were only one aspect; fundamentally, their interests were tightly intertwined.
For instance, the Southern Legion's various ports happened to be distributed along the shipping route connecting Bolo Province to Triumph City.
And the vessels of the civil faction returning from Bolo Province brought back not only the spices, tea, and sugar so coveted by Triumph City, but also the slaves and livestock needed by the Southern Legion's colonies.
Compared to the nomads and mutants living in the Great Desert, the survivors and livestock of Bolo Province were undoubtedly far more docile, and thus far more popular among the southern colonizers.
On the side, when these ships made their return voyages to Triumph City, they would carry local specialties from the colonies.
Such as assorted ores, gemstones, gold, and more.
Because of this, Evernight Port was never short of ships arriving from Bolo Province.
Especially ships from West Sail Port.
Lately, however, an unexpected snag had occurred...
A sea of people crowded the docks of Evernight Port. A massive swarm of passengers clutching suitcases congregated outside the ticket office, shouting and arguing at the top of their lungs.
December in Evernight Port was the height of summer. The breeze blowing in from the sea already carried a sultry heat, and people's tempers were like powder kegs ready to explode at the slightest spark.
A Wilante passenger finally managed to squeeze his way to the front counter. Slamming a fist clutching his ticket onto the counter, he practically shoved his nose through the narrow window.
"Where is the ship?! I bought a ticket to Triumph City! Where the hell did the ship go?!"
"Please calm down, sir. Let me see which scheduled voyage you purchased... so I can process your refund."
The clerk reached out to take the ticket, but the passenger snatched it back.
Glaring furiously behind the glass, the Wilante roared, "I didn't f***ing say I wanted a refund! I want to go home!"
The clerk wore a bitter smile and looked at him helplessly:
"I know... but there's nothing I can do. If your booked voyage hasn't appeared at the docks, it's most likely in breach of contract. We will compensate you for your ticket according to the terms—"
"What do you mean, most likely in breach of contract?!" the Wilante shouted in fury. "It's already the end of the year! I only go back to Triumph City once a year! Damn it, why did this have to happen right before Natal Day?!"
Sweat beaded on the clerk's forehead as he tried to placate the man and the rest of the passengers behind him.
"P-Please calm down... I understand how you feel, sir, but our hands are tied. The carrier cancelled the voyage. From what I hear, it's because they're heading east to haul a shipment of arms—"
The passenger clearly wasn't buying it and rudely cut off his excuse.
"I bought a ticket on a damn passenger liner! A passenger liner! Do you take me for an idiot?!"
The clerk sighed in resignation.
"I know... but I heard they were offered just too much money. You're actually considered lucky. Yesterday, a ship was just about to dock, but the moment they heard the news from West Sail Port, they abandoned the passengers waiting on the docks and turned straight around."
Wilante passenger: "???"
Standing amidst the crowd, Penny overheard the argument ahead, her face a mask of utter bewilderment.
She had arrived here by ship from West Sail Port a week ago and had originally booked a transfer ticket for today to return to Triumph City, never expecting to hear such disastrous news.
When she finally reached the front of the queue, she glanced down at the ticket in her hand and said in a daze, "...All the ships are gone?"
The clerk behind the window looked at her, his frazzled expression clearly showing this was far from the first time he had fielded the question.
"Gone since yesterday... You're among the lucky ones, miss. I heard some passengers were even kicked off after boarding."
Penny said, half amused and half exasperated, "Then how am I supposed to get home?"
The clerk looked equally awkward.
"I don't know... Er, but based on past experience, things should clear up in a couple of days. After all, not every ship will keep sailing east; some turn around once they reach Evernight Port. And there are freighters that wouldn't mind moonlighting as passenger vessels if the price is right. We'll keep an eye out for any relevant updates for you."
"..."
Penny regretted only one thing now: having politely declined Governor Huye's offer to hitch a ride on his direct ship to Triumph City, opting instead to transfer at Evernight Port.
Who could have guessed that after spending three leisurely days here, she would end up stranded?
"What on earth happened?" she asked worriedly.
The clerk let out a sigh.
"Our information isn't certain either. We only heard it's the handiwork of Myriarch Bannote. He struck some shady deal with the Eastern Legion, and now every ship along the route is dashing east, all scrambling to scoop up free money."
Rumor had it that not only were they gunning for the Expeditionary Force's gear, but some were even fantasizing about scavenging leftover "junk" from the Academy, the Enterprise, or the Alliance that couldn't be used up at the front line.
Though in his opinion, those people were simply daydreaming.
Besides, with so many people rushing over in a mad frenzy, whether they would actually turn a profit was still anyone's guess.
Penny was completely dumbfounded. She never imagined that the reason she couldn't get home was her own father, serving as ambassador far away in Dawn City.
This was truly...
Seeing the lady before him looking like she wanted to cry, the clerk kindly offered a piece of advice:
"Things are already like this, and there's nothing we can do. You'd better book an inn near the port right away... Come nightfall, you probably won't find a room even if you have money. My uncle runs an inn near the docks. Would you like me to help you contact him?"
Penny shook her head.
"...No need. I have a place to stay."
Her uncle was an officer in the Southern Legion holding the rank of Chiliarch—just like Mr. Pangolin—and served as the defense commander of Evernight Port.
She had been staying at her uncle's house these past few days; at worst, she could just impose on him for a few more days.
Still, so as not to worry her mother back in Triumph City, she needed to visit the post office shortly to send a telegram home.
The clerk sighed and said apologetically, "I see... In any case, I am deeply sorry, and I hope for your understanding."
Did she have any choice but to understand?
Penny gave him a helpless look. Nodding her thanks, she left the ticket office with her suitcase, hailed a tricycle rickshaw at the port, and asked the puller to take her to the front of the post office.
Soon, the marble building came into view.
Pulling out a gleaming gold dinar to pay the fare, Penny carried her suitcase up the post office steps.
Yet just as she crossed the threshold, she overheard hurried voices brushing past her:
"Are there any ships?! I need the next ship heading east! As fast as possible!"
"A ship heading east? What kind of daydream are you having? There isn't a single ship left at this pier!"
"Damn it! Why did it have to happen right at this critical moment?!"
Penny glanced sideways just in time to see a middle-aged man in a felt hat smash his fist violently against the marble pillar by the entrance.
The man beside him looked at his companion in shock and rushed forward to ask, "What in the world happened?"
The man's expression was grim and gloomy, his hoarse voice kept low and deep.
Yet even so, Penny still faintly caught those words—
"West Sail Port! Something... huge has happened over there!"
Chapter 816