Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 646: Section 455: A Toast to the Past (2)

Chapter 646: Section 455: A Toast to the Past (2)

As autumn gave way to winter, construction of the new city halted, as the ground became too hard to dig through with mortal efforts, and it was far too extravagant to have the Transcendents do such labor. So, Malin directed the construction workers to focus their energies on the districts where foundations had already been dug, initiating the construction of usable new streets.

The mayor also found his purpose within the town hall, as the construction of the city walls required his signature and supervision—mainly because Malin didn’t want the mayor to be lonely and daydream all day, and he also slipped him a wad of cash.

Initially, the mayor’s expression wasn’t too pleasant to look at, but he couldn’t resist when Malin opened a suitcase filled with a stack of hundred Mowish notes. In the end, he shook hands with Malin warmly—the idea being that I wanted to scold Mr. Malin, but the money he offered was simply too much.

A group of High Elves also joined Carterburg, and Faye, as their representative, had met with them. Malin, too, went to see the excitement. The High Elves indeed represented elegance and beauty, but the fact that half of these handsome men and beautiful women were color blind made Malin think that the sacrifices made for genetic stability were too great.

He left them in Faye’s care and allocated them land in the Oak District—according to the elves, a tree already felt like home. Malin thought it acceptable to give them some privileges, but if they wanted to establish their little kingdom, it would depend on whether the guardians of the World Tree agreed.

By the way, the tree guardians listened to Malin. With their wands and nearly maxed-out magic resistance, dealing with some daydreaming High Elves wasn’t a problem.

The High Elf ambassador also stated that as long as no lives were taken, Malin could beat them up if he wanted to. If this group of High Elves really did something outrageous, like revolt passionately, then just killing them was also an option—provided there was legitimate evidence, and with Nameless backing up the story, no one from the High Elves’ side could cause a commotion.

This pleased Malin immensely—after all, on their first day, this group of High Elves was thoroughly trounced by the Elite Sharpshooters of Malin’s workers and army.

Both sides were equal up until four hundred and seventy-five yards, but at five hundred yards, Malin’s hunters and poacher-born sharpshooters, with their long-barreled bolt-action rifles, brutally outmatched the elves with their longbows.

They continued up to six hundred yards before the first miss occurred.

Then came the wooden sword duel. Though Malin’s soldiers, hailing from the Eastern Kingdom, couldn’t win, they mostly managed to achieve a draw, one for one. After ten rounds, they had wiped the elves’ disdain for short-lived beings clean away. Then these scoundrels brought up sword dancers for the challenge—after much consideration, Malin decided not to issue his lead soldiers with large-caliber revolvers loaded with rubber bullets. The caliber was too big; a close-range shot to vulnerable areas like the eye socket, the exterior of the heart, or the liver could be lethal. It would be a huge hassle if someone were actually killed, and Malin, who loathes trouble, would not hesitate to eliminate whoever caused it.

This was Malin’s usual course of action, and no one could say it was wrong—after all, Malin’s adversaries were always Chaos, cultists, and brigands who didn’t understand reason.

In any case, bringing the elves to the point where they couldn’t stand to lose was enough.

The elves’ elders were wise. After another five rounds, they acknowledged a draw, and their attitude softened significantly.

Thus, Malin decided not to proceed with the third event, the physical contest—his meat-fed soldiers were robust, and if the elves, who often had heart problems, were to run 20 kilometers in full gear without using spell formations, half of them would likely die.

Having subdued the elves, Malin had Faye take them the next day to witness the industrial revolution of the short-lived races.

The elves had tasted the canned fruit prepared by Malin. The abundant elemental energy in the food impressed these adept spell-weaving long-eared beings, who immediately chose to fawn over him—willing to provide soldiers in exchange for various supplies and materials.

After some thought, Malin decided to take 200 Sharpshooters, offering guns and training in return. Their color blindness did pose an issue, but Malin had a cure—the fruit of the World Tree could easily remedy such minor setbacks. Using these elves on the front lines as disposable assets seemed extravagant, but forming a Sharpshooter troop to handle high-value targets was a good choice.

Beyond that, the elves were also willing to provide 30 mages. As a native profession, elven mages had represented the world’s most advanced military power before humans came up with firearms—and it was still true, especially when dealing with Chaos.

Malin wanted to arm every willing being—elves, humans, dwarves, half-humans, gnomes, even domestic fairies and various orcs—to the fullest as long as they were willing to fight for this world. He wouldn’t be stingy.

After all, to Malin, the battlefield was a grim place where death had a clear price tag.

Every soldier had to be utilized to their fullest potential.

For the remaining elves, Malin ultimately decided to have them work the lands in the Semi-Plane. Elves had always been naturals in agriculture, so having them cultivate various herbs and spiritual medicine raw materials in the Semi-Plane was an excellent choice. If possible, Malin wished to cram the entire High Elf race into working for him, producing various raw materials.

As for whether this was taking advantage of them, Malin argued that the Semi-Plane—complete with sky, earth, water, and the World Tree—was practically a paradise for elves. There certainly wasn’t any coal mine that could offer a better workspace than a Semi-Plane that was this well-endowed, Malin would have liked to see anyone try to contest that.

At first, when the Elite heard that Malin had his people planting flowers and grass, they were displeased. But after Malin took them to see the sight of the Semi-Plane, they immediately stated that if they could live there, their entire tribe would willingly work for Malin without any compensation.

Malin refused this offer—the Semi-Plane was private property of the Malin family, and in the future, should the need arise, it would serve as the family’s major fallback position, where they would move all their possessions.

The Elves expressed regret about this, but they were still very happy to work in the Semi-Plane. The density of Spiritual Energy and elements here was even better than on their Eternal Night Island, not to mention the presence of the World Tree. The environment was beautiful, but most importantly, the Semi-Plane was safe, completely devoid of the scent of Chaos. In such a world, 997, in a sense, really was a blessing for the Elves.

So when Malin heard that the Elves were willing to work shifts around the clock all year round, he was deeply touched. Still, he ended up organizing a three-shift system with a day off each week.

I, Malin, am also a big business owner with a conscience.

During this time, in addition to a branch of Elves, the Half-humans also made their move, and a large clan arrived at Malin’s doorstep. Originally from the small hills east of Carterburg, this wave represented the Half-humans pledging their loyalty to Malin by moving en masse to his territory.

After much consideration, Malin decided to let these Half-humans carve out their own territory and build it themselves in the hilly area north of the city—of course, after winter had passed, because these Half-humans wouldn’t be able to construct their semi-buried cities otherwise. The tens of thousands of hungry mouths posed a headache for Malin, but fortunately, he had a plan. Fishing had already started, and during winter, catch from the sea was a major food source for Carterburg. Trade with the Sea Clan also gave Malin more options, among which seaweed was one—despite its bad reputation (mainly for its taste), you couldn’t beat its abundance, and this thick kelp worked well as an ingredient in meat stews.

As for meat, Malin’s hunting teams had already reached the Great Wilderness in the west. The local Nobles were furious about Malin’s teams crossing their borders, but Malin emphasized time and again that his hunters were gathering all possible edibles for the tens of thousands of mouths in the Carterburg area.

That was the more poetic way to put it. If expressed more robustly and plainly, it would be that if you keep squawking, I’ll let people come and help themselves to a buffet at your place.

Some didn’t take this seriously, and as a result, their small castles and granaries were looted by a mob of refugees.

As for the details like how the castle doors were blown open with light recoilless guns or the Guards were taken down by volley fire, and the Noble family ended up on the scaffold at the hands of unknown bandits, these weren’t news anymore.

By the time the story reached Malin, it had morphed into a tale where the castle doors were blasted open by evil Magicians, the Guards were slain by terrifying Magicians, and the Noble’s whole family had been turned into Undead servants by a Chaotic Sorcerer.

Faced with such a dramatically altered story, Malin felt unworthy—I’m just a simple Mortal who breaks doors down in the middle of the night to offer warmth. How could I be so cruel?

What was most important, however, was the Mowish royal family turned a deaf ear to this issue, and the various Dukes tacitly refrained from issuing a joint warrant for arrest. The Church of Justice, very timely, released some incriminating evidence against the afflicted Noble family, which made the lesser Nobles squirm uncomfortably—you see, in the early days of entrepreneurship, who doesn’t have a few skeletons in their closet? Getting hit like this was more than anyone could bear.

So, between having their herds of deer swept away by the hunting teams or everything taken by the refugees, the Nobles unhesitatingly chose the former and began to unanimously praise Malin as a responsible Noble, declaring they would support him unconditionally.

The key issue was fear; faced with such overwhelming and unanswerable violence, not everyone could afford to engage in futile acts.

After all, the castle gates of the first one to resist futilely remained broken, with no one coming to repair them.

Of course, Malin’s hunting teams didn’t just target various Nobles; sometimes on their travels they’d encounter free-spirited folk who enjoyed the freedom of the frosty wilderness. In those moments, Malin would lead his team to give them a warm welcome. Oh, you have everything in your fortress?

That’s great, now it all belongs to me.

The goods belong to me because Malin can make better use of them.

The people belong to me because there are too many real mines waiting for these heroes.

Of course, the elderly and children were treated better; the former were given some travel money to return home, and the latter were sent to schools for reeducation by Malin.

In short, everything was put to its best use, and that was a good method.