Chapter 731.1: Since You're Already Here, Just Stay And Work

Survivor's Daily

[Yesterday, survivor factions from the Enterprise, the Academy, the Army, and others completed their rendezvous at the New Alliance's military base on the Northern Front. Commanders from all parties held discussions regarding the specific battle plan and their respective responsibilities.]

[In an interview, Coalition Administrator Chu Guang stated that the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee would spare no effort in the fight against the enemies of civilization and would stop at nothing to make those beasts pay the price for their countless crimes!]

At a hotel north of Dawn City, after flipping through the newspaper several times, Duke Garawa raised an eyebrow in displeasure. The front-page headline did not mention the Xilande Empire at all, leaving him with the distinct feeling that he had not been given the recognition he deserved.

"These sewer rats only know how to play petty games over trivial matters." Muttering sarcastically under his breath, Garawa tossed the newspaper aside.

Just then, a waiter approached carrying a tray and placed a plate of curry omurice in front of him. A tempting aroma rose with the steam before him and Garawa took a deep breath, his appetite immediately stirred. He awkwardly picked up the spoon beside the plate.

The variety of food in Dawn City really was impressive. If one put in the effort to explore, it was possible to eat something different every day for an entire year.

This dish was the closest thing he had found to the cuisine of his homeland. Though it lacked some of the richer textures he was accustomed to, the savory curry paired with fluffy baked egg and perfectly separated grains of rice was simply outstanding.

Garawa reluctantly admitted that besides beans and flatbread, there were indeed other foods worthy of the spices of the Poro Province.

Watching the duke vent his frustrations on his lunch, Niyan immediately noticed the lingering disappointment in his expression and respectfully spoke in a low voice. "My lord, perhaps the other newspapers mention us. Shall I buy them for you?"

Garawa's heart stirred. He was about to send him off to do exactly that when he suddenly remembered the doctor's advice and shuddered at the memory. "Forget it... I better not read too much."

Seeing that the duke had unexpectedly become sensible, Niyan felt a slight sense of disappointment and secretly lamented the missed opportunity. Compared to Survivor's Daily, the headline in Goblin Observtion was the truly explosive one...

...

Goblin Observation.

[Shocking! 30,000 Troops Depart for the frontline, but 10,000 somehow went missing! Xilande Empire General Babita is furious on the battlefield and curses out train conductor, "Where Are My Men?!"]

...

"Where the hell is my steel?!"

Standing on the docks of the light industrial district, Ample Time looked at the delivery receipt in his hand, then at the cluster of cargo ships gathered in the harbor. His mind went completely blank.

Two weeks earlier, while still at Port Gallon, he had used a Wislander broker to purchase 10,000 tons of surplus steel at a price 50% below market value. According to the seller, the steel consisted of unfinished crude steel billets. Quality would not be an issue, as everything had been produced according to Wislander industrial standards.

Whether rolled into T-beams for construction or mixed with other materials to create high-grade alloys, it was all excellent material.

Although Port Gallon had its own steel mill, its production capacity was already fully committed to local infrastructure projects as well as those in French Fry Harbor. Orders were backed up beyond capacity.

Having secured this unexpected bargain, Ample Time immediately allocated the steel to Peace Island, intending to have the submarine factory and engineers there help realize the submarine carrier concept that he and a group of fellow players had brainstormed on the forums.

According to the contract, delivery was to take place at French Fry Harbor. On that day, the seller was supposed to deliver 5,000 tons of steel billets, while Ample Time would pay 40% of the purchase price.

Worried that something so cheap might be too good to be true, he had even traveled personally from Port Gallon to inspect the shipment. What he had not expected was that instead of steel billets, over 10,000 soldiers had shown up.

Had these people not been relatively restrained, he might have suspected they were trying to repeat some old trick and pull another fast one on him.

The man standing at the bow of the ship looked equally embarrassed. By then, he was certain that he had boarded the wrong vessel. Of course, expecting him to admit fault was impossible.

To ease the awkward atmosphere, he cleared his throat and introduced himself. "I am Isair, a Horsefolk. I am a baron and the general of the Third Division of the Xilande Empire’s Expeditionary Force."

Ample Time stared at him with the corners of his eyes twitching. "I don't give a damn whether you're a horse, cow, or donkey. I just want to know why you're here, and where my steel is!"

Isair froze. He looked at Ample Time in complete confusion. It was obvious he knew nothing about any transaction.

"What steel?"

"Steel! The steel I bought from those big-nosed guys!" Taking a deep breath, Ample Time forced himself to calm down. "Where's your captain? Bring him to me now!"

Assigning blame was pointless right now. The priority was solving the problem.

Soon, the captain was brought forward. More accurately, he was dragged forward by a group of soldiers.

Facing the murderous expressions of Ample Time and General Isair, the Ratfolk captain looked on the verge of tears. "My lords... I don't know anything! The Wislanders told me not to ask questions, not to look at anything, and just sail along the designated route once the ship was loaded. Then the next day these people stormed aboard and started urging me to sail immediately. I couldn't contact the person who arranged the voyage, so... so I had no choice but to set sail!"

Looking embarrassed, Isair kicked him in the backside. "Why didn't you tell me we were heading to French Fry Harbor?"

The captain replied with a tearful face. "With the way your people looked, how dare I ask any questions?"

Ample Time stared at the two men on deck in disbelief. So the steel hadn't been delivered to Silvermoon Bay or Port Gallon. It had never been loaded onto the ship in the first place?!

"... Didn't you realize this was a cargo ship?" Ample Time couldn’t help but grunt in a low voice.

Isair looked at him blankly. "What's the difference?"

For a moment, Ample Time was completely speechless. Then he remembered that several of the Xilande Empire's gunboats had been converted from cargo vessels, and that even the previous assault on French Fry Harbor had used civilian ships.

His expression immediately turned into a mixture of laughter and despair.

Fuck’s sake...

He had never imagined such a creative way of becoming dead weight. There were so many things wrong with the situation that he did not even know where to begin complaining.

He suspected that the Wislander who sold him the steel had never imagined that the cargo ship he arranged would fail to deliver the steel but somehow manage to deliver an entire expeditionary division instead.

Seeing the person in charge of the harbor rendered speechless, Isair coughed lightly and continued, "May I ask how far it is from here to the Brocade River Province?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ample Time replied with a headache. "Not far. Ten Peaks Mountain is slightly southeast of Baiyue Province. It's not even 1,000 kilometers from here."

Isair's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful..."

Before he could finish, Ample Time exploded. "Wonderful my ass! Are you planning to walk there on foot? The war will be over before you arrive!"

More likely, they would all die somewhere in the jungle first. Even though French Fry Harbor had successfully established itself on this continent, the effective radius of player activity still rarely exceeded 50 kilometers. Without a stable supply line, it was impossible to travel very far unless one had no intention of ever returning.

After thinking for a moment, Ample Time turned to the captain and sighed, "Wait offshore for a bit. I'll discuss this with the others and figure out a solution... Move farther out first and stop blocking the docks."

"W-wait! Please wait!" Seeing Ample Time turn toward the harbor exit, Isair hurriedly called out from the deck. Then, with obvious difficulty, he spoke. "We're running low on food. Could... could you lend us some?"

A vein nearly popped on Ample Time's forehead. Eventually, he forced the words out after some time. "... Wait here."

...

On the Wasteland Online Forum, Ample Time brought the incident at French Fry Harbor to the forums, finally solving the mystery of the Third Division of the Xilande Empire Expeditionary Force's disappearance.

Sideline Slacking: Holy crap... getting lost like this is absurd.

Mosquito: Hahahaha! I'm dying! Today's headline practically writes itself!

Ample Time: Forget the headline for now. I'll keep pressuring that Wislander merchant about the steel. Worst case, I'll personally go to West Sail Harbor. The real question is: what do we do with these people? Give me some ideas.

Gale: The fact that they managed to leave even you speechless is impressive. ( ≧ᗜ≦)

Eye Owe Money: Just leave them on the Southern Front. They're already here anyway. Looking at their clone-army-level equipment, I doubt they'd be useful on the Northern Front either. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Construction Boy: +1. The northern front is basically a battlefield for gods right now. There are twenty Cloudfly planes parked there, and we're struggling to transport ammunition fast enough. We're even expanding another airfield. Good thing our 500 Deathclaws are still somewhat useful, otherwise we would be reduced to spectators too.

Spring Water Commander: Weren't you guys planning to land on the Death Coast? Let Old White and Brother Pubg train them. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Old White: Their foundation is pretty terrible. We might have to start by teaching them how to eat properly. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Midnight Pubg: I oppose letting them come ashore. They're soldiers of the empire. Given their history, nobody can guarantee public safety.

Sisi: +1. Quite a few Moonfolk have settled in our harbor. They were slaves freed from Port Gallon. The Xilande Empire still refuses to recognize them as free citizens. If we let these soldiers ashore, conflict is practically guaranteed.

Sesame Paste: Mmm... if they give up their status as soldiers, maybe it wouldn't be impossible? Doesn't French Fry Harbor need lots of workers?

Sisi: That's unrealistic... and even if we need labor, why recruit accomplices of slave owners? Port Gallon has plenty of better-quality workers willing to come.

Night Ten: Looks like the New Alliance needs a customs office and immigration bureau. We've never had this many newcomers arrive at once. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Irene: +1. No new players means the game dies, but too many new players isn't always a good thing either. Every multiplayer game's server environment visibly deteriorates during free-access week. It's like playing an entirely different game. ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و✧*｡

Tail: Whoa! Even so, sending them to the frontline as cannon fodder is too cruel. Why not build another settlement on the southern coast? Let them pioneer the wilderness while training. (:з」∠)

Ample Time: The costs don't really justify it. Just maintaining the northern harbor already consumes a huge amount of ammunition. As for training... Honestly, even with training, I doubt they would be useful.

...

Feudal armies only developed real fighting spirit when their homeland had been looted and devastated. Even then, the effect was largely limited to fighting on home soil.

That had little to do with culture, ethnicity, or religion, though those factors could somewhat reduce the debuff. The Honey Badger Kingdom's Restoration Army was a good example. Everyone from top to bottom remained united. Even after losing their homeland, they managed to establish a government-in-exile, and the princess was willing to marry a heathen for the sake of restoring her nation.

The Lion Kingdom, however, was a completely different story. The slaves in occupied territories waited for the royal army to act, while the royal army waited for the New Alliance to act.

As for the Poro Province, objectively speaking, their Thousand Race and Thousand Gods doctrine had spent two centuries creating internal divisions and strengthening the authority of the Xilande Empire.

Of course, it also created even bigger problems. Ample Time had no confidence whatsoever in turning them into an effective fighting force. That was not something a few months of training could change.

...

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