Chapter 733.1: Gluttons From Ideal City

"All the potatoes are gone."

"Why?"

"Sad."

"Damn Enterprise."

"Ideal City, gluttons."

"The barbecue meat with rice is pretty good. Recommended."

"Try it."

"..."

"It really is good."

"Good!"

"Very good."

"Satisfied."

"Mm!"

...

Outside the cafeteria, watching the members of the Alpha Mobile Task Force bury their heads in food, the soldiers of the 100th Mechanized Mountain Division were completely dumbfounded.

"Holy crap, three bowls per person?!"

"Are these guys pigs?!"

Seeing how ravenously they were eating, one young soldier couldn't help swallowing his saliva. "What the hell smells so good?"

While he was still hesitating, the others beside him had already become eager to investigate.

"Let's get a bowl and try it..."

"I'm getting one too."

"Wait for me!"

Before long, a long queue had formed in front of the serving counter.

People from the Bugra Free State and other settlements noticed the Ideal City residents lining up and joined in out of curiosity.

Everyone knew that Ideal City's products were the best. If something could make Ideal City residents queue up for it, it had to be a delicacy worthy of a place in heaven itself.

No matter how much food the cafeteria prepared in advance, it couldn't withstand tens of thousands of people ordering the same few dishes. Thus, under the influence of a completely inexplicable trend, an entire tray of barbecue meat disappeared in no time.

Those who got food ate happily. Those who didn't could only stand there swallowing their saliva. A crowd of people simply waited.

Some who couldn't wait any longer ordered other dishes to fill their stomachs and discovered they were surprisingly delicious too. That only increased their anticipation for the sold-out signature dish.

The day’s victim was cumin barbecue meat on rice.

Unexpectedly enough, the first thing to run out wasn't the barbecue meat itself. It was the barbecue sauce and cumin seasoning used.

...

"Eat? What the fuck is this?! You useless gluttons only know how to eat all day! Besides eating, what else can you even do?!"

Standing on an open field outside the military base was a line of dejected, dusty soldiers. Several Ratfolk wanted to speak but didn't dare. They could only lower their heads in silence.

The commander was right. Even they felt they weren't cut out for fighting. If he wanted to scold them, so be it. But the problem was, they hadn't even gotten to eat!

The gluttons from Ideal City had meal cards loaded with 3,000 Silver, but their own only had 100.

The only reason they had 100 was because that was the minimum amount required to open an account.

Thank heavens for that minimum requirement. Otherwise, they had no doubt General Babita wouldn't even have given them those 100 Silver.

There wasn't any red soil to eat here and there weren't even villages they could rob. Those horse-cart merchants that traveled around selling food looked tougher than they did.

Seeing how pathetic they looked, General Babita became increasingly furious. He wanted nothing more than to tear off the belt stretched across his belly and whip them twice with it.

Those men all belonged to Commander Modrick's command, the same soldiers who had fled from the battlefield the day before.

However, the true source of his anger wasn't entirely their cowardice or the fact that it had gotten Modrick killed. It was something else that had happened yesterday.

Back then, he had been eating in the military cafeteria when he happened to encounter General Liam, the Army airship commander. Since they were allies, he had immediately picked up his tray and approached him, intending to exchange greetings.

Before he could even sit down, however, he was blasted with insults. "Fucking useless trash! Is this how that idiot McClennan trained you people? You guys are embarrassing! You would've been better off not showing up at all! One artillery shell from me killed more enemies than you managed in half an hour! Bah! You couldn't even hold out for 30 minutes! My clones fight better than you!"

The man's voice was unbelievably loud and the entire cafeteria heard it.

Babita found himself taking the blame for something he hadn't even done. Although the insults were directed at McClennan, he still felt deeply wronged and his expression turned into one of shame.

He hadn't even complained about the fact that the artillery shell had landed directly on top of Modrick before the man had a chance to retreat.

Whatever it was, the Wislanders were friends of the emperor and he didn’t dare argue back. Under the gaze of everyone in the cafeteria, he could only carry his tray away in humiliation. There was nothing he could do.

After being humiliated outside, he could only vent his frustration on his own people.

After roaring for a long time, General Babita took two deep breaths, unscrewed a water bottle, drank a mouthful, and continued cursing. "... A bunch of worthless trash! Rats really are rats. Expecting you lot to win a battle is unrealistic. You would be more useful growing crops and saving food!"

As he spoke, he waved a finger dismissively and turned around. The officer standing beside him immediately stepped forward and took his place before the Ratfolk soldiers.

Raising his voice, he shouted, "From today onward, I am your commander, Kumar! If you can't be soldiers, hand your rifles back to His Majesty and go farm! The wasteland beneath your feet is now your assignment! I want you to till this land and plant cabbages and potatoes! This is your last chance to prove you're worth something!"

Several hundred soldiers stared at one another with faces filled filled with confusion.

Farming? Was he kidding? They had come to fight a war, not become farmers.

But Babita was clearly not joking. He walked over to a rented truck and waved his hand. More than a dozen soldiers immediately climbed aboard and began unloading sacks filled with hoes and shovels.

Within minutes, a small mountain of tools had formed on the ground and it was clear he had prepared for this in advance. He had even purchased farming equipment!

Though judging by their condition, they were almost certainly second-hand tools discarded by some settlement.

Kumar pointed at the pile of shovels and bellowed, "Three acres of land per person and I expect at least half an acre finished today! You don't eat until the work is done!"

...

Under the commander’s scolding, the malnourished soldiers could only grit their teeth and begin working.

Most of them came from the western Poro Province which was filled with noble estates and plantations. The people living there were either slaves or workers. Even the few free citizens had worked on aristocratic plantations before. Because of that, farming wasn't particularly difficult for them. The only difference was whether one was experienced or inexperienced.

Several Death Corps players watched from afar with strange expressions. "Holy crap... Has the Xilande Empire's expeditionary force just completely given up?"

They had lost one battle and already started farming. Wasn't that a bit extreme?

Looking at Construction Boy's astonished face, Eye Owe Money rubbed his chin thoughtfully. After a moment, he spoke. "I actually think this might not be a bad thing."

Construction Boy stared at him. "Why?"

Eye Owe Money gave him a meaningful look. "Imagine you're on the frontlines and these people are behind you. Would you rather have them there, or not have them there?"

Construction Boy thought for a moment before realization struck. "Holy shit."

That actually made sense. Compared to having unreliable allies behind him, he would rather face the Mutant Humans alone.

Just as they were talking, a familiar cackling laugh came from behind them. "Haha! I knew this would happen! That's why I already solved the problem for you guys!"

The two immediately turned around. "Motherfuc... Mosquito?!"

"Weren't you on the Southern Front? What are you doing here?"

Hooking an arm around each of their shoulders, Mosquito looked toward the soldiers of the Xilande Empire swinging hoes and grinned. "I’m just wandering around... Hehe. Well, I’m also expanding my business over here by answering the Administrator's call and making a little extra money."

The latter was the important part. Most players were lucky to fully exploit the profit opportunities of a single business chain. A high-level player like him naturally wasn't satisfied with only one.

Construction Boy stared at him and narrowed his eyes slightly while snapping, "Holy crap. The Thunderbolt aircraft you made still hasn't made you enough money?"

Mosquito waved dismissively and sighed, "I don’t make much from building that plane. Damn it, most of the profits got eaten by those reverse-engineering design institution! We only get the scraps."

Seeing his smug face, Eye Owe Money couldn't help complaining, "Oh, shut up. Besides coming up with the idea, what did you even contribute?"

Mosquito rolled his eyes. "You think running a factory is free? You think production lines fall from the sky? And what about all the failed prototypes?"

"The successful product was called Thunderbolt. The unsuccessful ones didn't even receive official designations."

To build that vertical takeoff plasma-engine fighter, his brother Falling Feather had died from crash testing more times than he could count. It had been absolutely miserable!

Of course, when he said the profits were small, he wasn't truly complaining. If it genuinely wasn't profitable, he wouldn't have built a damn plane in the first place. At most, he would burn some money on a one-time project and move on.

Besides, the profits earned by the Scientific Expedition Team funded players doing artifact recovery missions, unlocked more technologies, and created a healthy cycle of research and industrial development.

Construction Boy waved his hand and grunted, "Enough bullshit. What business have you got your eyes on this time?"

Eye Owe Money suddenly remembered something and frowned. "Yeah, you distracted us earlier. You said you'd already solved our problem. What exactly did you mean?"

Mosquito narrowed his eyes and grinned before pointing toward the truck in the distance. "Do you see those junk tools? I sold them to the Xilande Empire!"

The two were instantly shocked.

"The fuck?!"

"That’s corruption!"

"What do you mean corruption?" Mosquito rolled his eyes. "That bunch of extras barely qualifies as an army. They can't even beat Goblins. I'm doing you a favor by keeping them tied down here."

Eye Owe Money and Construction Boy exchanged strange looks.

When they thought about it, he kind of had a point. Even if it sounded like twisted logic.

Construction Boy sighed emotionally. "Still, Babita actually bought them..."

Mosquito laughed. "Of course he did. What was there to be afraid of? It's not like I sold them defective goods. They're just old tools."

Moreover, that was only the first truckload, just enough to keep those deserters busy for the time being. There were still thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, more loaded onto the train behind it.

In Dawn City, those tools were sold by weight. Like sewing machines, they were obsolete equipment.

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