Chapter 714.3: The Light That Shines On The Harbor

“What are you building?”

“Railway tracks!” one of the workers replied with a grin.

Palu blinked. “Railways? What are you building those for?”

The workers exchanged glances, unsure how to answer, until one particularly quick-witted young man suddenly shouted, “To modernize the harbor!”

“Modernize?” Palu muttered to himself. “I’ve never heard that word before.”

“Funny enough, we don’t really know either. That’s what the iron men call it! Anyway, all we know is that the thing can transport goods!”

As soon as the young man finished speaking with a laugh, another worker added, “Doesn’t matter if we understand it or not, as long as they pay us well!”

Palu could not help asking, “Where are these goods supposed to go?”

A dark-skinned worker replied, “The underground tracks are for transporting people. The ones circling the harbor are for cargo. Another construction team’s handling those. They’re a different project. If you want to know where the goods are going, you’ll have to ask them.”

“Transporting people?!” Palu’s eyes widened in disbelief. Just those few pieces of wood could supposedly pull people around?

Seeing his shocked expression, the young man laughed again. “Yep! Heard the trains run really fast on the rails. In the future, even people living on the outskirts will be able to work in the harbor district!”

Palu opened his mouth and could not help but continued to ask, "How much do they pay you? How much are the iron men paying every month?”

At the mention of wages, the dark-skinned worker grinned proudly.

“2,200 Gallons!”

“2,200 Gallons?!” Hearing the number, Palu was stunned yet again and quickly calculated in his head.

Wouldn’t that mean they made enough to exchange for 55 kilograms of corn?!

Recently, many citizens in Port Gallon had learned how to cook corn and cornmeal from the iron men. Imitating the iron men’s diet had become the latest fashion among the settlement’s middle class, causing corn prices to rise from the original 1 Gallon per 50 grams portion to 2 Gallons.

That meant it cost 20 Gallons per kilograms!

However, if one bought coarse grains like chickpeas or black beans smuggled in through water routes, it only cost around 8 Gallons per kilogram.

As for Xilande Coins, it had already become rare at the stalls ordinary citizens frequented. Rumor said only the truly important people still used it in business transactions.

Palu could not calculate exactly how many kilograms of beans 2,200 Gallons could buy, but he himself only earned 1,800 Gallons a month.

The laborers actually earned more than he did!

“How do you make so much?! I remember the recruitment notice said only 1,600 Gallons!” Palu asked jealously.

The workers laughed again. “That’s just base salary! Last month we also got a 600 Gallon bonus! The foreman told us that as long as we work fast and do a good job, good enough for the iron men to approve, we can even get bonuses equal to our salaries!”

“I’m done resting. You guys still sitting around?”

“Let’s head back together... I’m gonna buy some steamed buns later.”

“I’ll grab some fried beans on the way.”

“Where did you get alcohol from?!”

“Hehe, it’s a secret, but the iron men never finish all their drinks...”

The group seemed fully rested. One after another, they climbed out of the pit using ladders and returned their hard hats to the rack nearby.

Palu stared blankly at them. He felt as though he could see something different in those sweat-soaked young men, yet he could not quite explain what it was. There had always been plenty of laborers before, but he had never seen anyone capable of smiling after finishing work.

No...

More accurately, he had never seen those slaves actually finish their work, nor had he ever seen them have the luxury of thinking about what they wanted to eat afterward.

Perhaps, the world really had changed.

Palu left with a troubled expression and headed to the nearby harbor police branch office. Following a colleague’s directions, he found the branch chief there. After knocking and entering the office, he was relieved to see the chief was around the same age as him, somewhere in his thirties.

And judging by the man’s fair skin, obviously someone who rarely endured harsh weather, along with his scholarly demeanor, he looked every bit like a proper educated gentleman.

Subconsciously adopting a humbler attitude, Palu slowed his pace and offered a friendly smile as he handed over the document pouch. “Bashak asked me to deliver this.”

The chief glanced at him in surprise. “You came so quickly?!”

As he spoke, he quickly took the pouch, tore off the seal, and removed the thick stack of documents inside, briefly flipping through them.

A moment later, he nodded in approval. “Excellent. Please thank that young man for me later. I’ll write to your branch office to commend his cooperation.”

Although jealousy flickered inside him, Palu still forced a smile and nodded. “I’ll pass the message along.”

After speaking, he hesitated briefly before being unable to resist asking another question. “By the way, Chief... may I ask what exactly these papers are?”

The chief took a sip of tea to wet his throat and answered casually, “They are household registration documents.”

Palu blinked. “Household registration?”

“That’s right. They were made at the request of the iron men. Recently, many refugees have been swimming across the Everflowing River. According to them, famine has broken out in several nearby villages. The Port Gallon Regional Government wants us to establish an identity verification system for local residents as soon as possible. At the very least, we need names, ages, genders, approximate residential streets, and so on... The people living in your harbor district are all individuals of status, but our side’s a nightmare. There are shacks everywhere, and some dockworkers don’t even return home for days at a time. Thankfully, your district cooperated.”

As he spoke, the branch chief rubbed his temples with a headache. It was obvious this matter had caused him no small amount of stress recently.

But after hearing the explanation, Palu froze. He had indeed heard rumors before that the Port Gallon Regional Government’s office intended to issue something called identity cards to Port Gallon residents.

At the time, he had even secretly celebrated, thinking the iron men were finally going to do something genuinely useful, such as completely separating Ratfolk from the population. But he had not expected the registration to contain only basic information.

“Just... just these details?” Palu asked unwillingly, looking at the branch chief hopefully, wishing to hear that he forgot to add something.

Yet to his disappointment, the man only looked at him blankly. “Just these. What else would there be?”

“Nothing...” Palu suddenly felt somewhat lost.

Under the branch chief’s puzzled gaze, he turned and quietly left the office.

He had actually been rather hopeful there would be a horse symbol printed on the card. Though Horsefolk were not considered especially noble, they were still far superior to snakes, rats, insects, and birds...

Leaving the police station, Palu dragged his exhausted body toward home. The rising morning sun scorched the back of his neck and shoulders.

Muttering curses about the Ratfolk who had stolen his time off, he unconsciously quickened his pace, hoping to get back before the streets grew even hotter.

Yet the moment he stepped through his front gate, the harbor’s bell rang out in the distance, startling flocks of seagulls resting on the rooftops.

Palu’s old face reddened involuntarily and only then did he realize he had actually gotten home much earlier than usual.

...

While the final rays of sunlight coated Port Gallon in golden brilliance, the western coast of the Poro Province remained wrapped in dim morning haze.

A gigantic cargo vessel slowly approached a newly completed concrete dock, beside which sprawled countless shacks clustered across the yellow earth like moss.

A man dressed in a perfectly tailored military uniform stood on the deck, smiling as he gazed at the harbor bathed in dawn light.

“West Sail Harbor, West Sail City, and even the fertile Naksil State beside it... all of this is our spoils of war. And also your father Mr. Banteno’s spoils of war. Pick a better angle and take a picture of it. Make sure the morning light shines perfectly across our bow. I like that sparkling feeling.”

Standing behind him, Penny sighed helplessly and snapped several photos of the harbor and ship’s bow before flicking her hair off her shoulder. “Then we’ll probably have to stand here for another hour. And, Governor-General Hue, you don’t need to teach me photography. I know perfectly well how to make your ship look big and impressive. If you have so many demands, why don’t I just hand you the camera and let you take the photos yourself?”

The man froze briefly before bursting into hearty laughter, though he made no move to accept the camera. “As expected of Mr. Banteno’s daughter! Guess I’ll leave it to you!”

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.