Chapter 946 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 946: The Wonders of the Viranthians Due to Brother Kill-Chicken's shockingly dramatic entrance, the indigenous people who had surrounded the industrial area quietly dispersed, finally bringing an end to this farce. There were a total of 471 civilians trapped in the factory warehouse. Beyond the personnel linked to the factory, there were also residents from nearby communities who, realizing the dire situation, rushed in for shelter. After all, under normal circumstances, the League's forces would seize the industrial area at first opportunity to prevent damage to the production facilities. No one understood the true nature of the natives better than they did. Falling into the hands of the League was certainly preferable to being captured by the natives. “Thank you... thank you all for saving us," a man pale-faced, clutching the hands of his wife and daughter tightly, emerged from the warehouse. His name was Antoine, the district chief of the industrial area, directly under the Corps of General Affairs, with a rank equivalent to a tribal leader. Notably, the Ravencar Industrial Area was a special zone of the Southern Corps, with a considerable industrial park under the jurisdiction of Aventus Central. The only locality under provincial control was the colony along the Ravencar River. The Southern Corps employed a textbook strategy to control the area—secure the water sources and farmland, prompting the natives to naturally migrate to the factories. Seeing his flat nose bridge, Fang Chang was surprised, asking, "You're not a Viranthian?" Antoine slightly bowed and replied nervously, "I am a native of the Bartoia Province. In your classification, my ancestral home is Aventus City..." This man was well-acquainted with the world's workings. Perhaps he could understand reason. Fang Chang pondered for a moment before speaking, "How much do you know about the aliens here?" Antoine responded immediately, "I’ve dealt with them for over a decade. I wouldn’t claim to know everything, but I have a basic understanding." Fang Chang nodded, "Besides the survivors from Bartoia Province, how many tribes are among the aliens you mention, and which is the predominant one?" Antoine hesitated slightly, looking embarrassed before replying uncertainly, "Uh... at least 2,000 tribes. No one has ever counted them thoroughly." Startled by the number, Fang Chang replied, "Two thousand?! Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?" Antoine insisted, "Absolutely not! I swear to Marshal Julius, the actual number is definitely no less than what I mentioned!" Fang Chang was speechless at Antoine's allegiance to a figure from his ancestral city of Aventus. Old Na and the Elf King Fu Gui, standing behind Fang Chang, exchanged glances of shock, commenting, "Wow... twice as many as in the Baloa Province." "The population here is even smaller... Emmm, what a headache." In truth, Antoine wasn’t exaggerating. In fact, the 2,000 tribes he mentioned were a conservative estimate; the reality was far more complex. The Southern Corps’ workforce comprised not only natives from the Ravencar River but also slaves from various backgrounds acquired from slave traders. These traders themselves ranged from usurpers who seized shelters, deserters from the Baloa Province, to private soldiers of exiled nobles in the Falling Sunset Province, and even market traders who frequently dealt with mutants. Their activities covered the Great Desert, an area teeming with diverse tribal life. The dynamic ecosystem there could evolve two entirely different tribes within 200 years, even if separated by just a street. Due to this complexity, the Ravencar Industrial Area practiced a stricter racial segregation policy than Eternal Night Harbor. Here, Viranthians and immigrants from Bartoia Province, as colonists, resided in the well-favored settlements, while labor purchased from slave traders stayed in the factory district. After listening to Antoine’s words, Fang Chang massaged his temples, slightly troubled. If the local situation was really as complex as Antoine described, the League's typical approach might not be effective here. Challenges aside, work had to proceed regardless. After gathering his thoughts, Fang Chang spoke clearly. "I understand the basic situation now... Our immediate priority is to restore order in this area." Antoine quickly offered, "Your instructions, please!" Facing the attentive Antoine, the head of the Ravencar Industrial Area, Fang Chang laid out the administrator's plan and, using his assessment of the local situation, improved certain details. “We plan to establish a Ravencar Industrial Area Self-Governing Committee. As the head of the industrial area, you will temporarily chair this committee. We will base your salary on your previous income, payable in silver coins.” Antoine responded with a bitter smile, "I wouldn’t dare demand a salary… Just tell me what to do." “Take what you’re due without ceremony. Focus on doing the job well and avoid taking anything you shouldn’t," Fang Chang stressed. He believed that free services were often the most costly, so it was better to provide compensation proactively. Pausing, Fang Chang continued, "Furthermore, this money doesn’t come from us. It comes from a Ravencar Industrial Area Development Fund." Antoine was puzzled. "What is the Ravencar Industrial Area Development Fund?" In all his years, he had never heard this term. Seeing Antoine's confusion, Fang Chang explained succinctly, "You could think of it as the local budgeting department. Public expenses, salary payments, and future pensions would be funded here. Additionally, this department oversees the disposal of industrial area inventory and allocates resources for capacity transformation projects." Pausing briefly, Fang Chang added, "You probably have a lot of industrial waste in your warehouses and production lines. Finish producing what’s profitable and sell it. Even if it's just scrap metal, disposal would be beneficial." At the mention of asset disposal, Antoine’s breathing quickened. The Ravencar Industrial Area accounted for a third of the Southern Corps' total production value! It was not just a large sum but practically a goldmine! However, just as he was about to seize this opportunity, Antoine met Fang Chang’s understanding eyes. Instantly, Antoine, holding his wife and daughter’s hands, felt like a cold bucket of water was poured over him, and his agitated heart calmed down. He realized that the opportunities for abuse were clear to both him and the person standing before him. Satisfied with Antoine’s resolved silence, Fang Chang continued, "I’ll find someone else for the foundation work. You cooperate with them. An engine’s worth is precisely its worth, and we would also send professionals to ensure you don’t sell valuable items as scrap." “Yes! I will comply!” Antoine nodded earnestly, abandoning any notions of misappropriation upon hearing that professionals from the League would be involved. It’s always pleasant to negotiate with civilized individuals. After issuing instructions, Fang Chang didn’t trouble Antoine further, allowing him to go home with his wife and daughter to rest, promising them protection by two Viranthian soldiers. Once the Ravencar Industrial Area Self-Governing Committee completed the transition from old regime to new, establishing clear regulations and organizational structures, Fang Chang planned to have them form separate financial departments for a well-functioning government. During this transitional power vacuum, he intended to extract the military, administrative, and financial power separately from the self-governing committee to prevent potential chaos. Additionally, he planned to set up a Legislative Committee, an Education Committee, and a Security Committee, and quickly establish a law enforcement unit based around a guard team, alongside day schools and night schools for children and adults respectively. This approach followed the tried and true methods of Dawn City and was a quintessential League tradition. As for the Representative Council, it could be postponed. Only minutes earlier, he had experienced firsthand the nature of the local natives, and any elected representative might just be as unreasonable as Bosa, the troublemaker from earlier. The Viranthians could indeed be described as civilized, but it's impossible to hold a proper council if everyone around a round table has the same perspective and there's no counterbalance. In such a scenario, even if these Viranthians have a change of heart and act righteously, they might still outwit the indigenous people disguised in civilized attire due to their intellect, eventually sowing seeds for future misfortunes. Fang Chang offered a simple reassurance to the Viranthian civilians affected by the conflict, assuring them that the League was there to liberate them without seizing their lawful property, and arranged for soldiers to escort them back home. After all, these fair-skinned people already preferred separate living areas from the natives, making them easier to manage within their own communities. With this done, Fang Chang returned to Old White and Mole to share his observations: "...The situation here is far more complex than we anticipated. I plan to bring reinforcements from Pioneer City; the survivors there are more familiar with the wilderness and have experience dealing with the locals." Finally having someone to hand the task over to, Mole quickly responded, "I'll follow your lead!" He had come here eager to prove himself, but he had since relinquished that notion. His expertise was in warfare, and that was where he excelled. Meeting Fang Chang's gaze, Old White grinned, "I'm with him; I trust you'll handle it." Fang Chang, caught between amusement and exasperation at their nonchalant avoidance, remarked, "I was hoping for your input. Your expressions of trust aren’t very helpful." Laughing, Old White replied, "Means we're as stumped as you are. Parachuting suits me better." Mole nodded in agreement, sighing, "Damn... Shelling is simpler. I won't argue with this guy anymore." Fang Chang gave the two a helpless look. He didn't mind Mole challenging him, understanding he couldn't foresee every possibility. Mole might lack practical experience, but he had skills. Just then, Midnight Chicken spoke up, raising his chainsaw-arm with a buzzing tone, "We should find some doctors for the people I saved." Fang Chang quickly responded, "Aren’t there military doctors?" Midnight Chicken shook his head, "No, they lack experience in childbirth... and you all know the level of expertise our player army's medics have." Childbirth... The expressions of the group leaders turned subtle. It wasn't that they were unwilling to invest in logistics, but most players had a "no treatment for major illnesses, minor injuries don't count" mindset, making skilled doctors scarce. For instance, the Jungle Corps had only a handful of medics, none were real doctors, just cyborg doctors re-employed after leaving Boulder Industrial. Old White scratched his head, "Wouldn't the enterprises have some?" Mole coughed, "The 100th and 101st Divisions are in the north blocking reinforcements from the Southern Corps; summoning them back isn't practical." Old White continued, "What about the expeditionary force?" Mole paused and slapped his forehead, "Oh right, they should have some. I'll ask around." He pressed a finger to his ear and exchanged a few words over communications in Human Link. As Fang Chang awaited news, a tall Viranthian woman, almost 1.8 meters, walked over nervously. With light blonde hair, she wore a beige shirt and blue trousers. Despite being visibly shaken, she raised her hand and bravely spoke, "Uh... Are you looking for doctors?" Her voice lighting up Fang Chang's eyes, he asked, "Are you a doctor? What's your name?" "Molly..." she stammered, swallowing nervously, "My colleagues and I can attend to them... but you must ensure our safety." "No problem," Fang Chang snapped his fingers and nodded at Chicken Brother. "Take her to them." Midnight Chicken warmly thumped his metal chest, assuring, "Follow me, I'll ensure your safety!" Molly almost seemed ready to cry, perceiving him as a chainsaw-wielding maniac—which wasn't far from the truth. But, considering the local natives would likely regard her similarly, Fang Chang's arrangement was sound. In such chaotic times, only someone like Chicken Brother could ensure the safety of medical staff heavily engaging with natives... ... With the establishment of the governing committee, peace returned to the Ravencar Industrial Area. Of course, everyone knew this swift resolution wasn't really due to the committee's formation but rather thanks to Midnight Chicken’s intimidating presence. The local survivors were in a pre-primitive state, akin to beasts in a basement under the floor. Their actions were illustrative for academia and marginal researchers of what the Baloa Province might have been without General Lowell. Currently, most of Baloa Province had transitioned from late feudalism to an initial "military governance" stage under League influence. In the forefront, areas like Gold Gallon Harbor had progressed to "tutelary governance," just a step away from achieving "constitutional governance." Possibly, by war's end, the survivors there might completely shed their burdens. However, the Ravencar Industrial Area and the Great Desert as a whole remained at a near-primitive level. Evidence proved that being without General Lowell was not better than having him. Removing the kidney without replacing it wouldn't solve anything; you'd also need to adopt healthier habits. Perhaps if Baloa or Mammoth Nations studied the Great Desert's socio-problems, they could accelerate societal advancement. But that was their responsibility. The League had its own task; they couldn't spoon-feed them, which would backfire. On the third day of restoring order, League engineer teams arrived via "Overlord" transport aircraft at the industrial area's airstrip. Led by Antoine, the group toured the industrial area's core production lines, familiarizing themselves with its capabilities—Conqueror No. 10 tanks, 902mm railway guns, aircraft, heavy bombers, and shallow-water heavy gunboats docks. That evening, during dinner, while Viranthian hotel patrons flipped through pictures and data from the day, Fang Chang shared a seat nearby. One engineer remarked with genuine amazement, "Truly remarkable..." Curious, Fang Chang asked, "Is this place impressive?" The older engineer chuckled, "Depends on the comparison." Fang Chang almost asked how it compared to Gold Gallon Harbor, but realizing their focus was on light industry, unlike the heavy industry of the former, he instead asked, "How about against Dawn City?" “There’s no comparison,” the old engineer replied, shaking his head while browsing tablet photos. "Dawn City has prewar reactors, 101 Shelter, Camp 101, android experts from Shelter 100, engineers from Giant Stone City, with every three workers one skilled in core technologies, not accounting for experts from academies and enterprises. With such investment from the administrator, the industrial potential is just natural." The engineer's eyes showed admiration as he spoke. "They've got nothing substantial here," the old engineer mused. "Just complex scrap mines and uneducated slaves... any sensible shelter resident would refuse to serve the Corps, not to mention enterprises and academies wouldn't even consider aiding them." "They tackled quality challenges with sheer quantity. For example, they couldn't maintain consistent furnace temperatures for the Conqueror No. 10's armored steel. So, they kept the production line running nonstop, producing a thousand slabs of steel and picking the one that met the quality standard." "Of course, this is an oversimplification. The actual process isn't as crude, but the production line's design isn't far off from what I described, and it's noticeable throughout the industrial park. If precision wasn't feasible, they simply increased output; subpar products were recycled, while those meeting standards moved along... that's what I observed." This assessment was purely technical, devoid of any political bias. However, Fang Chang found himself perplexed, unable to discern whether this was praise or criticism. Was it commendable, highlighting the Viranthians' strength, or disparaging, likening it to a strained yet futile effort? Sipping his tea thoughtfully, he inquired, "So, is this a positive or negative assessment for our capacity transition efforts?" "It's a mixed bag," the old engineer replied after pondering. "The Viranthians have indeed performed a miracle, albeit one reminiscent of ancient monarchs' tombs built on the unchecked exploitation of slave labor. By the way, I'd love to visit Aventus City if I get the chance. It's likely the key endpoint in the Southern Corps' entire supply chain." Curiosity piqued, Fang Chang asked, "Aren't the production lines complete here?" "Parts of them are, but others aren't." As the server brought their dishes, the old engineer waved off further questions, implying the complexity was beyond explanation to someone without foundational knowledge. Fang Chang displayed a helpless expression, acknowledging his limited understanding. As a finance professional, sometimes knowing just enough was optimal — knowing too much led to overconfidence in ventures like starting a factory, and most colleagues who tried returned with minimal success. On the flip side, industrialists venturing into capital management often fared the same, losing most, if not all, of their earnings. Just as he intended to wrap up the conversation, the old engineer added, "There's one more thing I can't figure out." Fang Chang asked, "What's that?" With hesitation, the old engineer revealed, "I examined their production records and inventory lists and noticed discrepancies. Even with low efficiency, their output shouldn't be this low." Fang Chang furrowed his brows slightly. "What do you mean?" The engineer explained patiently, "The theoretical output is three times the actual output. If this industrial park was operating at its expected capacity, you wouldn't have won so easily — the Southern Corps could've lasted another three years!" “I should correct myself; our victory wasn’t exactly effortless,” Fang Chang interjected, attempting to defend his comrades. Yet, the old engineer remained engrossed in his musings, unperturbed by Fang Chang's remark. Stroking his chin, he thought aloud, "The machinery is in good condition, the supply chain is intact, and, despite some flaws in management, they aren't enough to cause such a significant impact." Puzzled, the engineer scratched his thinning hair, unable to unravel the mystery. "… It's truly baffling." To be continued.