Chapter 955: Chapter 955: The End of the Show
Ross indeed doesn’t need to despair too much, for in this lifetime, he probably won’t set foot in West Sail Port again, and the Poluo people likely won’t welcome back this invader either. Whatever this place becomes, it no longer concerns him.
As for Evernight Harbor.
The Alliance Army landing there and the Eastern Empire soldiers rummaging through West Sail Port have completely different conduct; his family and furniture were left untouched, not a single thing missing.
Although he had to report to New West Port first, making it impossible to reunite with his family before the birthday, they would eventually be reunited...
The square by the dock.
He noted that the soldiers escorting him had changed from Poluo people to soldiers of the Eastern Empire.
Looking at the sturdy young man, Ross thought for a moment, and took out a gold medal from his pocket.
"Could you lend me two dinars? I want to buy a newspaper."
The young man pushed his medal back with a laugh and said, "You keep the medal, sir. I’ll handle this for you!"
A defeated Ten Thousand Leader is still a Ten Thousand Leader, especially one with a gold battle medal.
After speaking, the young man quickly ran to the nearby newsstand and casually picked up a stack to return.
The stall owner also didn’t dare to stop him, and a Gray Wolf Soldier nearby pretended not to see it.
Looking at the stack of newspapers brought back by the young man, Ross smiled wryly as he took them.
"You all... should at least pay for these."
Moreover, with so many newspapers, he might not finish reading them even when he reached New West Port.
The soldier laughed brightly and said, "It’s fine, the money has been paid."
Ross was taken aback.
"...Paid?"
The soldier nodded and said, "Enough to arm a million people, 1,200 tanks, and a thousand aircraft along with pilots for the entire air squad are left here fully trained."
Ross was momentarily speechless, and after a while, he sighed, "You all are indeed wealthy."
The soldier laughed embarrassingly and said, "Not all of it is ours, most of it is actually what’s leftover from you... His Majesty said that the scraps of the Wasteland Era will be useless later. The engineers in Norton City need to target new enemies and design better and more expensive equipment."
Ross remained silent.
This time, he truly didn’t know what to say; he could only turn to the newspaper in search of useful information, only to find the dates stopped at the last few days of Wasteland Era year 214.
Time seemed to have stopped.
He flipped through several pages, but they were all old newspapers, causing him to shake his head with a wry smile.
It seemed the stall owner wasn’t really interested in doing business either.
After all, no one is a fool; knowing they’d be looted by the Weilante people and opened at gunpoint, they naturally muddled through it.
Why not get new newspapers?
Ask the printers!
And the printers can likely blame the writers and those seeking out news.
There would be no more news here.
And there was no more need for it.
Just then, a family of five ran in from the direction of the city.
The couple was around thirty to forty years old, and the three children were only as tall as car wheels, with the oldest only about ten years old.
They were in a hurry, their faces full of panic, looking distinguished but only carrying some personal belongings.
The Gray Wolf Soldier, who was smoking, was obviously taken aback, seemingly surprised that these five people could run here. Instinctively, he removed the gun from his back, quickly chambering a round without thinking.
As if hearing the chambering sound, the elderly father skidded forward, bringing his family to kneel in front of Ross with a thud.
"Master! Please be merciful, take us with you!"
The mother was also crying with tears streaming down as if raining, her forehead brushing against the ground.
"Sir! I’m bowing before you! I beg you!"
Aside from the two adults, the slightly older two children were also imitating their parents, nodding their heads like pounding garlic.
As for the remaining girl, only as tall as a car wheel, she seemed to be scared stiff, standing bewilderedly, led by the adults.
The sound of sobbing caught Ross off guard and left him stunned in place.
"You’ve got the wrong person... I’m just a prisoner..."
He, a defeated individual, had no right to such grand gestures.
Moreover, not to mention protecting others, he was himself a floating duckweed blown into a muddy ditch.
Suddenly, Ross recalled that it seemed like on this very square in front of the port, Ten Thousand Leader Olet had once issued an order to him, demanding he pull out the Sky Bandit who murdered civilians of the Weilante from among the citizens to be executed.
Who would’ve thought that after all this time, he, a butcher who had killed indiscriminately, would become a prisoner, while his victorious opponents would still be kneeling before him to plead.
Perhaps driven by a survival instinct, the elder father had a sudden burst of inspiration, crawling forward on his knees to hug Ross’s knees, pleading desperately.
"Master... you’re, you’re with the Weilante, you can take your slaves! Our whole family would be your slaves! I beg you, give us a way to live, we’re willing to be your cattle and horses..."
"Is there... such a rule?"
Ross was completely dumbfounded for a moment, looking at the soldier beside him, leaving no time to be shocked by the kneeling man’s adaptability.
He was also a father.
His family was almost the only moonlight he could see without opening his eyes when he was living on insects in the cave.
The biggest difference between humans and beasts is that humans consider things from the perspective of their fellow kind.
He no longer looked down on the kneeling Poluo man at his feet as humans, but saw him as another father just like himself—willing to abandon his own dignity to keep his children alive!
In his heart, Ross made up his mind, as he had done when facing subordinates with bloodshot eyes.
They were not chess pieces.
They were human beings.
The war was over; no one else should die for this foolish war.
He would rescue them!
Consider it redemption...
The Eastern Empire soldiers were visibly confused, scratching their head after hearing the inquiry from their officer next to them.
"Well... there’s no rule saying it’s not allowed. I’ve seen the officers take someone on board."
Ross glanced at the Gray Wolf Soldier not far away and noticed the safety was switched off, then looked at the men and women kneeling on the ground.
The Adam’s apple moved slightly, and he looked at the soldier beside him, speaking in a cold tone.
"...I am a Ten Thousand Leader, someone needs to take care of my daily life. From now on, these people are my servants, let them board the ship with me... I will explain it myself to your superior."
The soldier was still in a dilemma, but the man kneeling on the ground hastily pulled out a few crumpled banknotes and stuffed them into the soldier’s hand.
"Sir... please be kind."
Seeing a few hundred silver coin bills, the soldier instantly stopped hesitating, giving a sly smile and waving his hand.
"Go on board."
Apparently, he wasn’t making things difficult at all.
He was merely imitating the veterans by taking a bit from these fat sheep.
Watching the humble father pull out more banknotes to offer him, Ross shook his head.
"Follow me closely... After all, that’s our ship."
Seeing their benefactor refusing the money, the father was momentarily shocked, but quickly nodded in gratitude, then pulled his family along, following their benefactor away from the hungry wolf glaring at their backs.
The group boarded the ship. Ross, who brought several people from Poluo, was initially a bit nervous, but upon reaching the deck, he realized his nervousness was entirely unfounded.
Among the men and women standing on the deck, only half were Vellante, the others were Poluo natives.
With their smiles of relief, they seemed less like refugees and more like they were celebrating victorious success.
Good heavens.
Looks like there isn’t even a need for an explanation now...
Ross suddenly realized his perspective was too limited; he had forgotten that people were also wealth, and perhaps the greatest wealth of all.
How could the Emperor of the Eastern Empire only take machines and forget the talents cultivated by the Southern Legion?
The things left on shore, including a household picked up from the shore, were just trash that His Majesty deemed unworthy to take...
The youngest girl blinked, hiding behind her father, secretly observing the face of their benefactor.
Unable to discern the expression on that stiff face, she spoke in a soft, sticky voice.
"...We won’t trouble you. Daddy brought some dry food; we’ll find a corner to hide in ourselves..."
Suddenly recalling that her father had forbidden her from mentioning the dry food, she hurriedly covered her mouth in panic.
Her cautious manner was heart-wrenching.
Ross managed to squeeze out a rare gentle smile from his stiff face, reaching out to tousle the child’s fluffy hair.
"No trouble at all, just follow me and I’ll take you ashore..."
"Speaking of which, I also have a child, about your age, maybe a little shorter... but in a few years, it might be different. He could at least grow as tall as I am."
The girl’s eyes lit up, momentarily forgetting her father’s usual admonition — never to offend the Vellante people,
"Really? Could you tell me about him?" she asked in a crisp voice, as innocent and melodious as a nightingale.
"Of course," Ross nodded with a smile, crouching down, "If you meet, I believe you two would become good friends."
...
On the other side, the wilderness of Wolf State.
Taking advantage of the dawn light, Gopal, the chief commander of the Gray Wolf Army, with a cigar hanging from his mouth, rode the steel convoy like a long serpentine dragon, advancing along the road built by the Southern Legion towards Tiandu.
The world only knew Grov as the "Iron General," not realizing that the "Iron General" was just a dog under his command.
Zayed saw through Grov well; that guy was nothing but an ambitious fool, reckless and advancing during the Northern Wind operation, thinking his little tricks went unnoticed, though no one really pointed them out.
Those were among the few openings they had.
Luckily, the Southern Legion had been beaten into submission and hadn’t ruined the entire game.
However, dealing with Grov could wait. This so-called "Meat Saint" should be elevated and then smashed down hard.
For this reason, he sent Grov to take over West Sail Port and the Southern Legion’s equipment and aid from the Eastern Empire, while he led the real elite eastward to strike at the heart of Poluo Country!
A cold smile lifted the corner of Gopal’s mouth as he increasingly admired the esteemed Holy Hero.
The fire in West Sail Port secured his place in Tiandu, and now the fire in Mammoth City set Laxi and Absek against each other in mutual destruction.
Even if they didn’t fight, but merely sat with their elite soldiers on their respective borders, it no longer mattered.
Their spies in Mammoth City had already connected with the Moon Clan Resistance Army, making it easy to launch a coup d’état while Laxi was distracted.
Even if the coup failed, after dealing with Poluo Country, addressing a severely weakened Laxi would not be too late.
The reason their respected family patriarch used the Moon Clan Resistance Army as a pawn was precisely due to this mob’s futility.
Regardless of their victory or defeat, this move would decimate Laxi on the chessboard!
As for Tiandu, it was as if it was already in their pocket.
With the Southern Legion’s continuous retreat and the Alliance’s troops moving to the Great Desert, ready to inherit the legacy along the coast and Bartoya Province ruins.
Even without Absek being in Tiandu, the entire Tiandu United Federation was leaderless; even if he were there, it would make no difference.
His drastic reforms in education and economy had already sparked dissatisfaction within the military.
The previous "Great Test" already showed signs.
Thinking of this always made Gopal want to laugh.
Not arranging two female students for "Butcher" Pickles, who achieved great feats in defending Tiandu, was unfortunate enough, but then letting his beloved son compete with the children of those mud-legged people for rankings in the "Great Test"!
How bold!
Was he not afraid of being shot in the back in his own bathroom at night?
Although this foolish move originated from Sir Cabaha, and wasn’t directly deployed by the Leader, the appointment of the education commissioner was by the Leader’s hand, right?
No need to mention the other commissioners. Sir Cabaha was at least guilty of serving everyone equally, while some others were secretly pouring into their own cups.
However, the actual harm and "kindness" to the Family Meeting by the latter were far less than those by the former, though later propaganda would need to be reversed anyway.
In short, Tiandu was no longer capable of fighting.
Sharuk, still dreaming of becoming the Chief Leader, had already turned Niggly and Duwata against them and fantasized that everything now was the same as when Absek summoned them overnight to deal with Anush.
He thought he could replicate Absek’s success, shooting Anush dead at his life’s peak and replacing him.
Yet he didn’t realize that the true "Absek the Second" was another person who had long since loaded the gun hidden behind the stage.
As Gopal was confidently gazing in the direction of Tiandu, his adjutant suddenly received news from the Family Meeting’s offline organization, leaning close to whisper in his ear.
"According to our spy, the third ten thousand troops led by Yishel have left the Sheep State frontier and are rushing towards the nearest train station... They might have figured it out."
Gopal’s eyebrow raised slightly.
Oh.
Someone with talent.
What a pity, this game is nearly at its end.
If this little pawn were truly clever, it should repeat what he once did at West Sail Port.
As for retreating... heh.
This guy has really lost his head, thinking he’s that ’commander’ sitting in the palace.
Forget about a little jungle mouse, even if the entire Northern Field Army pressed forward, it would be crushed into red soil in the face of his iron tide, not to mention that the Northern Field Army is now riddled with holes by the Family Meeting’s infiltration.
In terms of power or strength, they ceased to be the struggling Gray Wolf hiding in the corner of Horse State long ago.
"Blow up the northern railroad, then let Grov..." Gopal touched his chin, an idea formed in his mind, and he said with a smile, "Forget it, let’s have Yakale take his 110,000 team instead."
"Iron General" Grov needs to live a little longer anyway, after all, he is his direct line, and even if there’s a shower to take, now is not the time.
As for Yakale...
Although he’s also family and has helped them somewhat, after all, he’s a family working for Absek.
Let this dirty rag wipe off the dust on the wall for them!
"Yes!" The officer sitting nearby respectfully accepted the order, looking at Gopal with an expression akin to gazing upon a deity.
Victory is determined thousands of miles away from the strategy room!
What "jungle mouse," utterly weak!
Indeed, this is the second coming of "Arai Yang"! The undisputed first military god of Poluo Country!
...
The winds of chaos swirl in Poluo Province, and the human conference in the Grand Canyon is a stirring gathering of brilliance.
But speaking straightforwardly, the "heroes" here perhaps aren’t as resourceful and cunning as the leaders riding across the lands of Poluo Province.
The land seems cursed by the "Treachery of the Four Vendors," where everyone appears too clever for their good.
Conversely, the people sitting in this conference hall seem more like human beings, each with their unique human appearances and abstractions.
The human meeting hadn’t even lasted half an hour when Sarun, seated in the conference hall, began to regret attending.
His expression speaks volumes; one gaze could empty out all the electric vehicles and fridges in West Sail Port.
Why not use this time to do something meaningful?
Perhaps he shouldn’t have had any expectations for the younger ones to freely voice their opinions from the start.
This group wasn’t here to discuss issues.
They were here to make wishes.
After a seemingly refined guy finished his "acceptance speech and future outlook," thanking brothers like the Corporation, Academy, Alliance, and Eastern Empire, a spirited young man finally took the stage.
Unlike the others.
He had a glint in his eyes.
Sarun grew curious for around two seconds until the young man spoke.
"...Ladies and gentlemen, please quiet down, allow me to speak!"
He tightened his fists on the podium and continued in a passionate voice.
"We can all see that over the years, the Alliance’s achievements have been plain for all to see!"
"Under Mr. Chu Guang’s leadership, we not only defeated the Looter, the Mutated slime fungus, the Army, but also..."
"...So why don’t we unite, everyone join the Alliance, fly to space, and then defeat Gaia! Wouldn’t that be wonderful?"
As his speech continued, the Emperor of the Eastern Empire, Sarun, no longer wished to listen to his nonsense.
He tilted his head, giving the former high-ranking officer of the Western Legion—now the highest Foreign Minister of the New Federation—a look everyone understood.
"Where exactly on the map is this Dam City? Can you send them something special?"
The Foreign Minister of the New Federation glanced at him impatiently.
That look said it all—
If this boring thing needs doing, go yourself.
Receiving a disdainful look, Sarun sighed inwardly, his gaze suddenly falling on a certain blue iron canister, which brought a mischievous smile to his face.
At this moment, someone’s situation was not looking good.
Watching that youngster on stage blow his horn for nearly ten minutes about himself, the toes of Dawn almost dug through the granite as he wished dearly to exert his authority, kicking this troublemaker offline to cool down.
But unfortunately.
The guy wasn’t one of his players, and that "Manager" remark was probably not a joke, but a heartfelt admiration.
In contrast, those who often made jokes about him were far more normal.
For instance, the only player present on the spot was obedient, acting more like a BOSS than he himself, sitting imposingly on Triumph City’s assigned chair.
Nonetheless, this Pangolin wasn’t quite sensible.
If his great son Fang Chang were sitting in the same spot, he’d have taken off his shoes and hurled them at the podium long before embarrassing himself into curling his toes.
The representatives from the other factions wouldn’t possibly do such a thing, and even the Alliance’s staunch ally Corporation was curiously watching how Chu Guang would resolve the awkward situation.
Perhaps tired of hearing it, a light, disdainful laugh came from the conference seats.
"Heh...everyone joining the Alliance, this childish dream sounds too easy."
Hearing his platform challenged, Zhou Xianlin, who was in high spirits, became enraged, casting gaze like swords toward the source of the voice.
An old man, his face lined with wrinkles, sat there, covered with all sorts of gaudy golden accessories, looking ready to lie in a coffin with the tributes.
"And who might you be?"
Apparently unfazed by this boisterous guy, the old man replied with an indifferent tone.
"Charlie Lion."
Zhou Xianlin was taken aback, realizing who this old man was—the one with numerous wives and concubines.
With that in mind, a hint of contempt flashed in his eyes.
"I thought it was someone else... just some feudal remnant reeking of decay, a pretender with one foot in the grave daring to speak to a progressive youth like me—"
He hadn’t finished his sentence when a homicidal aura struck him dumb, swallowing the latter half of his words.
The old man didn’t move a muscle, just stared at him with those pitch-black eyes.
And the light shooting from those skull-like eye sockets seemed like it was about to pin him to the podium, dragging him into the grave along with it.
A bead of sweat trickled down Zhou Xianlin’s forehead; enveloped by that killing intent, he subconsciously licked the corner of his lips.
Yet his gaze bore not a flicker of fear; instead, it carried traces of excitement.
Some said he didn’t actually kill the Looter, now it seems the Looter appeared on its own...
Just a mere kingdom, this foul thing stands no chance against the iron fist of his Alliance!
Fortunately, someone rescued him in time, the chairman sitting below coughed twice.
"...Young man, if you’ve finished speaking, step down and leave time for those after you."
Zhou Xianlin descended the podium without a word, his eyes fixed intently on the old king, like a Hyena circling its prey.
As for the old king, he retained a calm demeanor, restoring his leisurely posture after clearing up the situation.
"I’ve never quite figured out... What connection does the Chewing Bone Tribe have with Dam City?"
Looking at the clown being chased off the stage, the leader of the Red River Alliance used his little finger to dig his ear and glanced at the Speaker of Garbage City who was sitting next to him, "Do you have any clues?"
The Speaker of Garbage City shook his head and said wryly.
"I’ve never heard of this place. Speaking of which, everyone seems to be invited to this Grand Canyon..."
To think this bastard is really fearless, grabbing the microphone and daring to say anything.
The human conference will be over in a few days at most; the Grand Canyon can’t protect you for a lifetime.
Is this guy planning not to leave his turtle shell?
On the other side, looking at the awkward face of Chu Guang, the chief sitting next to him smiled and whispered jokingly.
"Time really flies... The last time I saw Charlie Lion, he was just a kid. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone from a little lion to an old lion, and he even brought a pride of lionesses here."
Chu Guang glanced at the old man.
"People call him Charlie Lion, but this is the first time I’ve seen this side of him."
The chief knowingly smiled.
"Tame as a cat in front of you, right? I even think he wants to give you a lioness. But that’s just the way it is; no matter how sharp the blade was in youth, there comes a day when it dulls... And who could outlive you?"
Chu Guang rolled his eyes.
"Isn’t that what I should be saying to you? Who could outlive you?"
The chief chuckled softly and nodded thoughtfully.
"True... let’s each talk about our own."
Chu Guang: "..."
His intuition told him that this old man was probably thinking up another riddle.
Not wanting to listen to this guy talk riddles, he shifted his gaze back to the stage.
Up there this time was an acquaintance, the Secretary-General of the South Sea Union Representative, Si Wen.
This person didn’t mince words, stepping up with a bright and sunny smile.
"Thanks to everyone’s love and trust, the New Era Space Elevator can be located in our home!"
"We have islands, beaches, crabs, coconuts, and beer, as well as large ships and gantry cranes for loading and unloading goods!"
"I won’t say much else; in short, our place is quite big, haha, you’re all welcome to visit!"
This was perhaps the most useful thing said since the opening of the human conference.
"Good!"
Not only did the old chief applaud, but even His Majesty Sarun smiled and gave him encouraging applause.
He was indeed very interested in large ships and gantry cranes.
The Southern Legion’s bulk cargo terminals were too laborious; ten slaves working all morning couldn’t keep up with that big iron lift, the allied ports suited his needs better.
Perhaps after the meeting’s over, he could order two back to the New West Port...
...
The meeting spanned from day to night, with a one-hour break in between, during which the hosts provided boxed meals to the participants.
Overall, this redundant meeting still discussed some important matters.
For example, the Survivor Forces of the Province of Yúnjiānxíng—essentially little brothers of the Corporate Council—suggested at the meeting that the old legion forces abandon the technology of "producing clones with eightfold growth speed" and ensure those mindless clones could have a stable life or euthanasia.
Though the leader of the Weilant Alliance expressed agreement, the conservative forces surrounding him evidently thought otherwise.
Sarun argued that those clones only had a human appearance, but couldn’t truly be considered humans in the genuine sense.
As for the foreign minister of the New Federation, he asserted that was the New Federation’s own matter, unrelated to others.
The emperor of the Northern Empire, by contrast, had a somewhat more moderate stance, with the man who looked as strong as a bear suggesting they could give up clone Cannon Fodder, but they must ensure the survival rights of the Weilante people.
That is, they need to establish a sophisticated missile defense system to replace the clone Cannon Fodder, and demand the corporations and academy provide the crucial technology they need.
The proposal itself was reasonable.
They needed to integrate with the civilized world but also required self-preservation.
Even including Sarun, all the Weilante leaders knew that with the sky’s blockade lifted, it was only a matter of time before those clone Cannon Fodder were eliminated.
Under the satellite’s precise location and artillery’s precision strikes, those Cannon Fodder, who didn’t even know to hide, merely delivered meat to their enemies.
The tide of the times is irreversible.
And wanting to transform those clone Cannon Fodder into productivity was also impossible; they couldn’t even possess the basic mental faculties of normal people, let alone learning ability.
The Alliance had attempted this and clearly hadn’t succeeded, otherwise, they would’ve advertised grandly long ago.
When asking for advanced technology failed, Sarun retreated to a secondary goal, requesting corporations to exchange economic aid for their compromise on clone and slave issues.
After much consideration, the Corporate Council members did agree.
The changes in Triumph City and the Weilante Province rekindled the corporations’ hope of bringing the Weilantes into the civilized camp and restored confidence in reuniting the fragmented "War Construction Committee".
The Weilantes had demonstrated with their actions that they too possessed indigenous progressive forces.
Since that was the case, why not give them a little more time?
A chieftain is followed by a king, and the story doesn’t end there.
If not letting a king, then another, if not letting their allies become a new empire... this is the task Ideal City aims to accomplish next.
To this end, the existence of the Eastern Empire is necessary, at least from their standpoint it is.
This was the open card played by the Corporate Council.
Not only Chu Guang could see it, but everyone sitting in the front rows of the conference hall could also see it... even including His Majesty Sarun, who was yawning, and the emperor of the North, who was as strong as a bear.
All visible gestures were a façade; the real fools didn’t even have the chance to sit here.
Even including Teil, who wasn’t even sitting here.
That guy was actually quite smart; he just played it too big and left no room for maneuvering for himself...
The meeting finally drew to a close.
The chief of the Grand Canyon took the stage and made a few summary remarks, then announced the grand meeting was concluded, along with the charter for the next human conference.
This kind of meeting might as well be held a few more times.
While communication couldn’t solve all the problems, at least it allowed each to understand the other’s bottom lines.
Moreover, the next human conference would be held in the City of Dawn, with the exact date yet to be determined.
After the meeting adjourned, everyone left the conference hall with a look of lingering interest.
They would head to the banquet hall to enjoy dinner and discuss the topics not yet finished with the people they clicked with, or decide on the next day’s agenda.
Absek was planning to have a conversation with Chu Guang but saw Shava, the captain of the Mammoth Nation assault team, angrily walking towards him.
Seeing that expression, Absek’s heart sank, realizing something unpleasant might have happened.
Just as he expected, Shava immediately shouted at him as soon as he saw him.
"Absek! The leader of Poluo Country! We need an explanation!"