Chapter 952: Chapter 952: Kill Them All!
The "Meetup Convention" is still ongoing.
While Chu Guang was having a pleasant conversation with his small players, an old man who had lived for over two hundred years was also not idle.
To be precise, the younger generation visiting this "Humble House" did not want him to be idle.
Seeing Absek leave the side of the Chief of the Great Rift Valley, Shava immediately hurried over and intercepted the old man who was about to turn away.
He put on a friendly smile and spoke in a respectful tone.
"Honorable Chief, I am Shava, the leader of the Mammoth Country Charge Team. Please allow me to extend the sincerest greetings on behalf of Laxi and the survivors of the Mammoth Country! Our leader intended to visit you personally, but the Southern Legion is still struggling to hold on, and the frontline situation remains tense, so he couldn’t get away and sent me instead."
The old man looked at the young man in front of him, smiled kindly, and nodded.
"Hello, Shava. I’m getting older, and I have to guess to understand the ideas you young people come up with, but this Charge Team... I really can’t guess. What kind of organization is this? Can you tell this old man?"
Shava smiled and said.
"It’s just a title. Back then, when we followed Laxi north to battle, we charged at the forefront of every conflict, hence the name Charge Team. Later on, when the battles weren’t as intense, the young officers of Mammoth Country matured, and we moved from the frontlines to the rear... but the name has remained until now. You can think of it as the Guard of the Army, the Guards Corps of the Alliance."
The old man understood and nodded.
"Oh, you’re talking about that kid, Rezer. Then I know who you are... hey, you must have a heavy burden, I feel for you. How about this, you resign, and I’ll ensure your safety for a year. After things calm down, how about becoming a security team leader in the Alliance?"
The sudden turn of events almost made Shava lose his composure, and he coughed awkwardly.
"Uh, this... I really haven’t considered it..."
The Alliance obviously doesn’t lack a security team leader like him, and his family has already settled in Mammoth City. He hadn’t thought about moving to the unfamiliar Alliance at all.
The old man laughed and said.
"Consider it! I have a quirk where when I see a talented young person, I can’t help but feel fondness for them and can’t control my urge to reach out and snatch them up. Ah, what a pity..."
Shava didn’t know what he was pitying but responded humbly, with a look of nervousness.
"You’re too kind. There are many more talented people than me... I’m nothing special."
"Too modest, much too modest," the old man shook his head, and suddenly as if thinking of something, he spoke again. "By the way, earlier when Absek visited me, I posed him a question. Now, how about I ask you one?"
Shava stared blankly at him, not knowing what the old man’s intentions were, but still said with restraint.
"Please guide me."
The old man smiled and showed his withered fingers, then started counting his sheep.
"I have four generals: A, B, C, and D. A says there are ten thousand sheep on the grassland, B says there are a thousand, C says both A and B are wrong, but can’t remember the exact number, only saw many sheep cross the river, and D says one of them is lying... Guess, what is correct?"
Without hesitation, Shava said.
"D! Assuming A is right, then B is also right, making C wrong for saying both are wrong, so D is correct. Conversely, if both A and B are wrong—"
"Stop, stop, you don’t need to analyze so much, I’m getting confused," said the old man, waving his hand as he watched the young man analyzing back and forth. "You are a smart person, and so is D, without a doubt. A says there are ten thousand sheep, who can guarantee he’s right? Neither B, C, nor D confirmed it. And what if he missed counting, and it’s actually nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine? Then he’d be in big trouble."
"Conversely, B is much smarter. Someone saw ten thousand, and he says a thousand, leaving himself an escape route for nine thousand sheep. If you have to choose between A and B, then B would definitely survive."
Pausing, the old man looked at the bewildered Shava and continued with a smile.
"But he still isn’t smart enough. When did I say only one person would be killed? At this point, C would be much smarter, distancing himself from A and B, and making his stance clear. Hehe... if I don’t go back on my word, he can survive. But if one day I regret killing the wrong person, then he’s in big trouble."
"In this light, D is much smarter. Saying someone is lying, he doesn’t say who is lying or who is truthful. The liar could be anyone, even himself. No matter who I decide to kill later, he can point at the dead and say ’it was him’ and stand on my side. And even if I regret after killing A, B, and C, he can plead with me, admit his own lies, and wear the ’I lied’ hat himself."
"I’m old and soft-hearted; I might just let him go with a laugh. You see, there are times when it’s better to be a little muddled."
Shava looked at the old man with a helpless smile.
When you posed this question, you didn’t say you’d kill someone, did you?
Although he did guess correctly.
However, the old man saw through his thoughts and said with a meaningful smile.
"You’re still young. I never said I’d kill them, did I? When did I say I’d kill them? That killing work... isn’t that something you do for me?"
Shava was slightly taken aback, and suddenly a creeping numbness went up the back of his head.
He was the one solving the question, but as he kept solving it, how did he become the "E" behind "A, B, C, and D"?
It was as if a knife was held to his neck. He swallowed nervously, forcing a stiff smile onto his face.
"Sir, you’re joking. We—"
"I know, I know, every family has its difficulties. Rest assured, you haven’t reached that point yet," the old man said, smiling and raising his hand without making things difficult for the young man in front of him. "Moreover, you’re not exactly the same as the Imperial Guards, and even less so with the Alliance. As for Laxi... I don’t know him, but seeing you, I understand."
"People always tell me he’s the spokesman the Alliance elected, but I never believed it, because you Poluo people like to choose smart people. Take Absek for instance, very clever, I point out something, and he gets it right away."
"Your Laxi is also not bad, and if it were a one-person one-vote situation, he’d probably come out on top. Don’t be angry when I say this. You may have a tough mouth, but your body is honest, just like you yourself."
"..." For a moment, Shava was speechless, still recovering from the earlier chilling realization, and also not sure what the old man intended to convey."
Perhaps he wasn’t speaking to him at all, but to Laxi behind him.
The old man looked at him meaningfully.
"You’re all smart people, but sometimes smart people can’t compare to upright fools because the latter won’t attribute their failures to the shallow reason of not being smart enough, whereas the former always does things they think are clever. Think over my words again. Was my question ’who is good and who is bad’? What I asked was—what is correct."
"Whether A, B, C, or D is telling the truth or lying doesn’t matter to me. ’Having sheep’ is the answer you should have given me, but instead, you sought the clever person in my question... Look at yourself, you can’t say I can’t help you, even if the Professor returned, it wouldn’t matter."
Shava looked at the old man in bewilderment, nodding as if he understood, carefully noting down every word he said, ready to bring this information to Laxi.
This old man has lived too long, he’s seen all kinds of things, it’s hard not to give it importance.
Maybe things he doesn’t understand, Laxi might.
However, at this moment, the old man abruptly changed the topic and stopped his unfinished words.
He turned away, no longer looking at Shava, and just sighed to himself.
"...However, gold doesn’t shine everywhere, the problems you face are much tougher than Absek."
"Some sheep eat meat, some sheep eat grass, and some sheep can eat dirt, they’ll all learn to bleat... tough, really too tough, I, this old fool, don’t know how to solve it."
Leaving behind words that seemed like a riddle, he walked away shaking his head under Shava’s dazed gaze.
...
The Great Canyon has already entered winter early, and Mammoth State at the foot of Zobar Mountain is gradually experiencing winter’s coldness.
The subtropics also have winter.
The monsoon blowing over Petra Fortress is like a cooling air conditioner, taking away the temperature of Mammoth City, making people involuntarily shrink their necks and put their hands in their pockets.
However, compared to the winters of two centuries ago, this slight chill means nothing, and as soon as the wind blows, it’s cold, but when the Sun comes out, it’s warm again.
People walk on the streets with open cotton coats, faces glowing with a rosy hue.
A year ago at this time, many were shivering in the cold wind, but now they are well off enough not to need to fasten their buttons tightly.
Not only that, but concrete houses have increased in Mammoth City, and the wind-leaking huts on both sides of the street have been replaced by rows of concrete houses painted red and white.
There’s so much anti-rust paint produced in Mammoth State, the unsold part was simply painted on the walls.
The busiest place on the street is no longer the recruitment spots but the supermarket shelves filled with commodities.
The retail industry in the South Sea Union is very developed, even slightly more than the Alliance’s.
As local workers poured into the Southern sea area, some of the ways of life were brought back.
It’s understandable that the Conservative faction of the Alliance is jealous.
Their development speed is indeed too fast... even though they too have more or less enjoyed the economic benefits of the Mammoth Nation’s rapid development.
Many houses in No.1 Settlement are even built by construction workers from the Mammoth Nation.
The bustling street market is just a corner of prosperity, the busier place is the docks of Mammoth City.
The docks are crowded with expectant people and overseas laborers returning by ship.
They worked arduously abroad for a whole year, and now their hard work has finally paid off.
The ruins in the Southern sea area have been cleaned up, and the islanders have rewarded them with more than just verbal thanks.
The funds from the Southern sea area not only helped them rebuild their homes but also helped them establish some industries of their own.
Starting next year, they might not have to go overseas to work anymore, they could find a decent job right at their doorstep.
Of course, the industries in Mammoth City are still upgrading, so local jobs certainly won’t be as lucrative as overseas ones.
Thinking of the kids soon starting university, the still sturdy father gritted his teeth, decided to venture to the Southern Ocean once more.
Some young men don’t want to disappoint their patiently waiting childhood sweethearts, deciding to settle down and have a child before venturing out.
Objectively speaking, Laxi has done some good things, or rather handled some people’s affairs.
He gave people who originally had no choice a choice.
In contrast, the Moon Clan Resistance organization with many factions indeed struggles, either begging the Alliance for complaints or calculating who has a closer relationship with the Alliance, who deserves what or who doesn’t.
No wonder Laxi looks down on them, even keeps them around like clowns.
As long as these strugglers remain, even if he wants to be emperor, the survivors of Mammoth Nation will still gather around him, voluntarily put the crown on his head.
After all, having someone as emperor is always better than a group of monkeys sitting in the temple.
Not to mention he has taken a step back, keeping the "Conservative faction" contents while giving face to the "Progressive faction," only hanging the leader’s title on his head.
Because of this, although Niyan curses him occasionally, he still holds back.
The "Red Soil" collection has now frequently criticized the new regime through the "medical record" of the old dynasty, yet never touches on Laxi’s personal flaws.
Although Laxi often gets annoyed by him, he has honored his initial promise by not sending the Charge Team to take him down, nor closing Survivor Daily and Mammoth University.
Now Mammoth University is thriving, occasionally inviting teachers from 101 Camp as guests, even sending excellent faculty to Jin Galun Harbor, in which Laxi’s efforts are evident.
But this alone is not enough.
Niyan always had a dream.
If General Lowell’s descendants erected 1000 pillars, then he wants to use money "stolen" from Duke Garava to establish 1000 universities on this land!
Only then can the true spiritual strength of the Poluo people be awakened.
The book will eventually have an ending.
He pondered for a while before writing a few lines on the last page to connect back to the "Foreword" of L.
"...In that year of ice and snow, without the Sun and Moon, General Lowell achieved incomparable deeds, whether praiseworthy or lamentable can only be judged by future generations. Perhaps his soldiers truly were overwhelmed by ’Great Victory,’ enchanted by demons, opting for joyous days over perishing alongside him, or perhaps amidst the ice and snow there were indeed irrepressible hardships."
"I had the privilege of visiting the Lowell Camp, but the gatekeeper there told me that although the wall is from that time, the buildings inside, the stone roads, and the iron cages are relics from the ’Moon King’ period. As for relics from the Lowell period, perhaps one might find them in the Governor’s Mansion of Duke Nihak."
"Unfortunately, there aren’t any there either."
"I have searched all the ancient books available to me, but all that remains of that story are a few fragmentary lines. The elders of the Moon Clan might know something, only saying that the Moon King was a good person, but they are reluctant to speak of the origin of the Red Soil, saying in hushed tones that the Moon King was once muddle-headed, and it was a farm owner who caused suffering to all of them."
"I don’t know if they’re telling the truth, or even the name of that farm owner. I just lament that I’m like an ephemeral mayfly, only able to stand downstream of the Everflow River and gaze upward, at scenes long buried at the peak of Zobar Mountain."
"Later, I returned to White Elephant City, and somehow thought of L, that young man also buried in the Red Soil. I don’t understand why I can’t stop thinking about him until I looked down at my own feet, more than just the people who planted the Red Soil and those who ate it being buried—"
Niyan suddenly coughed, instinctively raising his arm to cover his mouth.
He moved his arm away, only to see a streak of red on his sleeve.
"The weather is getting drier and drier..."
He muttered to himself, but then had a moment of clarity and focused intently on writing the words "Red Soil" on the paper.
"How similar are our fates! Under my feet lies that soil, trodden upon by his bones, and the bones of Lowell. It’s as if he’s reaching out to grab my ankle, to clasp my throat. I’m startled to realize I’ve been chasing him for half my life, searching for a way out of history in my muddled state, only to find he’s never left me—"
"He is every one of me."
Finishing the last stroke in haste, Niyan stood up breathlessly and went to the side to pour himself a pot of tea.
These days he’s been busy with joint schooling affairs, sleeping only four or five hours a day, relying entirely on this tea to survive.
Especially before when he was in Tiandu, he had a severe illness, fortunately not the "Mortal Serum," and in the end, he somehow survived.
But since then, his health hasn’t been as good as before.
He took a sip of hot tea to soothe his throat, feeling a bit sweaty and his thoughts slightly more organized.
Looking back carefully, this ending is a bit hasty, unlike the thrilling prologue. Such a bland ending doesn’t do justice to this magnificent journey, and Mr. Mouse’s readers are unlikely to be as forgiving as before.
In fact, even leaving aside the readers, he himself feels something is missing.
But thinking about it, the prologue is L’s story while this ending is about Lowell.
After all, he did meet L, and many times, but Lowell was separated from him by two centuries; he truly hadn’t seen him. No matter how he writes, it’s like looking at a flower through fog, outlining through a window.
"The phrase ’He is every one of me’ is somewhat obscure, perhaps changing it to ’He is every Poluo person’ would be more direct? But that seems too absolute... Anyway, it still counts as a clue."
Niyan thought to himself, putting the teacup down but finding his throat a bit itchy, so he took a tissue from the tray and coughed heartily.
However, when he moved the tissue away from his mouth, his heart thumped hard.
Blood...
The scarlet color momentarily made him dizzy, and perhaps he really shouldn’t delay further and should take some time to see a doctor.
Just then, the office door opened, and a professor hurriedly entered holding a newspaper.
Seeing the tissue in Niyan’s hand, he paused, quickly expressing his concern.
"Sir, what is happening to you..."
"I’m fine," Niyan wiped his mouth, nonchalantly threw the tissue into the wastebasket, then turned his gaze to the professor, "What’s so urgent that you came in without knocking?"
This person teaches history at Mammoth University and is also the editor of the Mammoth City edition of the Survivor’s Daily.
The professor glanced at the wastebasket, then at the newspaper in his hand, ultimately biting the bullet and handing the newspaper to Niyan.
"Please look at this newspaper!"
Niyan took the newspaper, glanced at it, and frowned slightly.
The newspaper was named "National Daily." Although the name sounded grand, it wasn’t well-known, at least he hadn’t seen it before, likely created by some small newspaper.
Due to Laxi’s agreement with him to allow the private establishment of newspapers, after the Survivor’s Daily entered Mammoth City, many large and small newspapers sprung up like mushrooms after rain, all taking up a portion of the market share.
Preventing the Survivor’s Daily from monopolizing was also a result of Laxi’s tacit approval.
Niyan hadn’t intended to monopolize the media industry anyway; his main focus was on setting up schools, and he was glad to see the survivors of Mammoth City eagerly starting their own newspapers.
It was like everyone banded together to finish the work he hadn’t completed.
However, he hadn’t expected these people to be so outstanding, even uncovering news that the Survivor’s Daily hadn’t—
[Explosive News! Eyewitness Account! Unveiling the Truth Buried in the Tasang River Dam!]
He hastily read the news from start to finish, then widened his eyes, his hand holding the newspaper trembling constantly.
The article cited an unnamed source claiming that the bombing of the Tasang River Dam was not actually by Governor Barmet of the Empire at the time, but orchestrated entirely by Laxi!
This was not only to defeat the Imperial City Garrison, which was several times larger than the Moon Clan Resistance Army, but also to prepare for future disaster relief efforts and send displaced people overseas for labor as groundwork!
If one infers the process from the results, nothing in the report seems amiss.
The Tasang River flood indeed helped Laxi a lot, including issues like land annexation, labor dispatch, and even humanitarian aid from the Alliance and enterprises... Almost all problems were eradicated as soon as the flood came.
But to say that Laxi standing by the river at that time could foresee so far ahead, that might not be the case.
Back then the correspondence between Mammoth City and the Moon Clan Resistance Army hadn’t even begun to establish, and the ultimate collapse of tens of thousands of troops under Barmet’s command happened later...
Niyan took a deep breath, calming down.
"The newspaper is entirely based on claims from informed sources without a single piece of conclusive evidence. Regardless of the accuracy of the report’s content, this is irresponsible reporting!"
"The new dam is already built, what kind of evidence could there be?" The professor sighed, speaking earnestly, "And let’s not get caught up in the truth right now. It’s not just this newspaper, there are several others... Soon all the newspapers in the city will be talking about this. If we don’t make a statement, I’m afraid we’ll lose people’s trust! Do you know what people outside are saying? They say we’re Laxi’s dogs!"
It’s a choice between offending the Laxi authorities or offending the survivors of Mammoth City, and they’ve reached the point where a decision must be made.
However, Niyan widened his eyes and scolded angrily.
"What do you mean, not worry about this first? Tell me, if you run a newspaper and don’t worry about this, then what do you worry about? Reporting news must be based on truth and facts, you can’t make things up. How have I taught you before! If it really is an order from Laxi, I’ll personally write an article against him! But what if it’s not? Then you and I become someone else’s weapons!"
Poluo Country wants to start a civil war, and they will certainly launch a media offensive!
And this "National Daily" might well be something cooked up by the United Federation in Tiandu!
He had suspected before that someone was up to little tricks right under his nose.
But since they weren’t doing it under the name of the "Survivor’s Daily", they were helpless.
Perhaps they should emulate the Alliance and create an industry committee to evaluate the credibility of news media, but now it seems too late to do that.
These ambitious people intend to use the Tasang River Dam as a pretext for war, to let a disaster that has happened once sweep over more innocent people...
No matter who is playing tricks behind this, he must stop these guys!
He clenched his fist, folded the newspaper and stuffed it into his pocket, then quickly took down the coat hanging by the door.
Watching his actions, the professor hurriedly asked.
"What are you going to do?"
Niyan said without hesitation.
"Head to the front lines to demand some answers from Laxi!"
The professor stared at him blankly, saying with a mix of laughter and tears.
"My dear ancestor... you’re heading to the front lines at a time like this?! I suggest you quickly go to the City of Dawn to get treatment, your lung issue has been going on for quite a while, you really can’t delay any longer."
Niyan shook his head, declining his goodwill, as he draped the coat over himself and fastened the buttons.
"This illness comes and goes, a little delay won’t matter, but the issues with the Poluo people cannot be delayed! I must make a trip to the front line to clarify what really happened! If it was truly him who blew it up, did he act knowing the consequences, or was there a hidden agenda..."
This was a battle where the few overcame the many, Laxi was at an absolute numerical disadvantage, standing from the standpoint of the governor at the time, there seemed to be no necessity to blow up the dam.
However, this is merely speculation.
It’s like the Chapter about Lowell in "Red Soil", from beginning to end it was just his speculation, even the Alliance couldn’t unearth a hundred percent authentic truth.
But that newspaper did hit a soft spot in his heart.
Niyan had long been puzzled by Governor Baumet’s confession state, and now seeing that report, his suspicion grew.
It’s like how fungi won’t survive at minus 30 degrees, no matter how strong the vitality is, they can only go dormant. Red Soil is not like the complex intelligent life form of the "Mutated slime fungus", it’s just a decomposer in nature, it’s impossible to fabricate nonexistent nutrients out of thin air.
Carbon fixing and nitrogen fixing, then converting solar energy and organic matter into nutrients needed by organisms... this requires the collective effort of all plants and microorganisms in the entire Poluo Province.
What kind of miracle would it take to transform frozen soil into nutrients during those dark, bleak years?
Calling Red Soil a nutrient paste that ’drops one’s pants to pass gas’ isn’t quite appropriate, but he had indeed thought this in his heart.
The biggest controversy in the current academic world of the Alliance about this period in history lies precisely here.
Led by Ms. Han Mingyue, a group of scholars believe that the research and promotion of Red Soil occurred in two phases, the former completed by General Lowell, and the latter credited to the "Moon King" who unified the Poluo Province.
However, such speculation is apparently not favorable to the tragedy-laden Moon people or politically correct.
It’s as if it justifies the persecution of Moon people by West Winds Empire—even if Ms. Han Mingyue herself doesn’t think this way, the Alliance’s research institutions need not heed public opinion.
However, her research does not represent authority.
There is another group of scholars who believe that the spread of Red Soil was a spontaneous behavior under the "slave economy", that the natural demand of the landlord class to "lower the cost of slave living" was the real incentive for the spread of Red Soil.
This overlooks the human factor, and is entirely a macro-level discussion.
Either supposition is possible, those who lived through that period of history are all dead, the Moon King long turned that period of history into dust and ashes, and even the Moon King is no more.
Out of nowhere, Niyan suddenly had an intuition—
Perhaps it was their disrespect for history that gave rise to those repeated sufferings.
And precisely because of this inexplicable intuition, he was firm in his belief that he must seek out Laxi.
They need to have a frank discussion!
And this is the only way everyone can survive!
Seeing that Niyan was still unwilling to stop and seek medical treatment, the professor pleaded bitterly.
"Why don’t I find some local doctors with you, I’ve heard they know some home remedies, maybe they can cure your illness."
Niyan shook his head, refusing him once again.
"Those people are either unwittingly or intentionally frauds, if you want to believe them go right ahead, but there’s no need to persuade me."
The professor smiled bitterly at his words but stopped trying to persuade, silently praying in his heart.
They have a lot of work unfinished, and it is at the most critical moment now.
May he be safe and sound!