This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 714: The Rising Sun from the Pier Illuminates the Harbor

Chapter 714: Chapter 714: The Rising Sun from the Pier Illuminates the Harbor

"Wasteland OL" Official Website.

The forum was as lively as ever.

It had become the most well-informed information hub across the entire Wasteland. Although its scale couldn’t match that of the Endpoint Cloud in Ideal City, it surpassed the latter by spanning two worlds, an achievement not even a warp-speed spaceship could catch up to.

No Family: "Big news! A new ’Shadow Port’ has been added to the south border between Jinjaron Harbor and West Winds Empire! The key landmark is ’The Forsaken Town’ inn, the abandoned cargo ship lying on the beach! Initiating a conversation with the bartender can trigger smuggling quests! You can spend those useless West Winds coins there!"

Flying Pig: "666!"

Spicy Snack: "Boss! Any level requirements? (flirty)"

No Family: "None! Just watch your back! If you’re worried, you can bring a couple of Strength Type beasts, but, of course, one of our Burning Corps’ tin cans would suffice! (grinning)"

No Family: "Ah! Right, also, people from the Empire come there at night, so if you’re interested in smuggling, try to go during the day! Or train a few NPC agents to go for you!"

Not long after the post was made.

Players who were engaged in lifestyle careers around Jinjaron Harbor swarmed into the forum, and in just a matter of minutes, hundreds of responses piled up under the post.

Old White, who had been perplexed by Fang Chang’s riddles for a long time, finally saw the post and couldn’t help but vent in the Bull Horse group chat.

"...Damn, so it was just this."

Fang Chang: "You finally noticed? (smirk)"

Old White: "But, speaking of which, doesn’t smuggling need to be managed?"

Fang Chang: "It depends on the goods. Jinjaron Harbor’s agricultural produce mainly consists of cash crops, which aren’t edible. Currently, the goods coming in are what the locals need and also what we need. Losing a bit of tax to offset the inflation buildup to West Winds is acceptable to the new authority of Jinjaron Harbor."

In the classical era’s market model, the direction of inflation and money flow was the same, opposite to the flow of goods.

The Alliance managed to distribute inflation among its allies largely because silver coins were flowing from the Manager’s hands into someone else’s pocket. And for some greater benefit, the allies were willing to pay for this trivial cost.

Even outside the game, it was the same in the "Silver Exchange," where participants included not just players but also backseat drivers. The exchange rates between silver coins and other currencies also reflected a similar demand-supply relationship. Each auction that resulted in significant fluctuations of the silver coin price clearly demonstrated this demand-supply relationship through the auctioned items.

Jinjaron Harbor was no exception. It wasn’t just about the money stored in the emperor’s treasury of West Winds but also a large number of nobles and private banks looking to offload their West Winds coins. Ports like Banana Head Bay, as "shadow ports," offered them an outlet.

People on the other side accepted West Winds coins, providing them with goods that were piling up in the empire but were urgently needed at Jinjaron Harbor. With these goods, they could trade for ’new money’ – Gallon, linked to silver coins, with workers, factories, shop owners, and others.

The Emperor of West Winds thought an embargo would crush Jinjaron Harbor, but he might have forgotten that forces operate reciprocally.

There were too many villages, settlements, and even noble estates around Jinjaron Harbor that needed to process the massive, monotonous stockpiles.

Jinjaron Harbor was facing inflation of West Winds coins, but they were facing a much more severe deflation.

If they couldn’t sell their stockpiled goods, they would have dumped them into the Everflow River to avoid such an occurrence. The local nobility would certainly try every means to keep the border trade routes open, whether by bribing the border army or using their authority to exert pressure.

Announcing the embargo when the royal authority was already weakened by the Grey Wolf Army’s defeat did seem like a move that hurt the enemy a thousand but harmed oneself ten thousand.

If a new interest group formed locally, it might just turn both armies at the border into military factions that don’t necessarily obey the monarch’s direct orders.

If this game were really that realistic.

Fang Chang: "...That Banana Head Bay must have just sprung up; actually, people have been trading there even during the recent ceasefire. From my observations, the busiest floating ports are mainly along the northwest banks of the Everflow River, mainly under the practical control of the Black Panther Army. At night, the river is dotted with smuggling boats."

Fang Chang: "Some nobles from Jinjaron Harbor take their West Winds coins there and trade them for goods like Double-headed Cows, sugar, sand, flax, spices. But the transportation capacity of the inland ports is limited. If Banana Head Bay could develop, perhaps we could speed up the dumping of West Winds coins even more."

Wild Wind: "What will you do once your West Winds coins run out? (curious)"

Fang Chang: "By that time, the reconstruction of Jin Galun Port will be nearly complete, and the survivors of the West Winds Empire will be interested in things other than just scrap paper."

Night Ten: "Damn, I should have hung out with you guys. (amused)"

Old White: "Speaking of which, are you still in City of Dawn?"

Night Ten: "I haven’t stayed there anymore. As soon as the Ice Sea City save was available, Wild Wind and I went there."

Wild Wind: "To be accurate, there are also that Academy NPC called Jiang Xuezhou and Jiujiu. (smirking)"

Fang Chang: "Well, we really are worlds apart now. (laughingly crying)"

Night Ten: "No big deal, we’re still on the same planet at least. (amused)"

Wild Wind: "+1."

...

Power abhors a vacuum, but there’s one thing that never does.

And that’s authority.

Once a void appears, something new immediately fills it.

Whether for better or worse.

Even if it’s just a moment’s gap...

The day after the first "Investment Attraction" dinner at Jin Galun Port ended, the doorway of Jin Galun Port City Hall was crowded with people.

A man in an exoskeleton walked to the door, opened the speaker on his helmet, and shouted at the crowd.

"Everyone calm down, no pushing."

"Our rules here don’t prioritize order of bidding—it’s all about qualifying criteria, review standards, and procedures, which are posted on the notice board. Read them, then go to the entrance, take a number, and wait for your turn to be called. Any interested individuals or groups can participate—anyone!"

Soon someone from the outskirts of the crowd shouted.

"Sirs! Can the Pigeon Clan participate?"

"I said, anyone!" Half-year Wasting Time shouted at the surging crowd, "Also, stop calling us sirs! The Alliance doesn’t have that stuff!"

The crowd at the city hall entrance burst into vigorous applause and cheers, although some looked displeased, but for the sake of money, they just had to bear it.

Watching the young man bowing and thanking profusely, Half-year Wasting Time smiled and waved his hand, suddenly coming back to his senses.

Wait a second.

Is this guy a pigeon?

...

In just one day, 37 infrastructure projects received nearly two hundred bid documents, most of which came from players with lifestyles in Silver Moon Bay and active around Jin Galun Port.

Background checking and capital verification took a full three days.

During these three days, Fang Chang recruited a dozen players who had either worked in city government or held administrative roles in large companies from the Burning Corps and players active in the nearby area to guide the newly recruited two hundred civil servants in Jin Galun Port City Hall in familiarizing themselves with their duties while reviewing those two hundred plus bid documents.

Excluding over a hundred companies and individuals with substandard qualifications or severe cases of falsification and concealment, twenty-two infrastructure projects were eventually assigned to specific companies or individuals.

The remaining fifteen projects were mostly heavy-asset projects, such as the reconstruction of main roads and the construction of port freight railways and civil railways. Without sufficient strength, even coveting the considerable subsequent returns was futile.

Although Jin Galun Port Bank did not fully implement the "100% reserve" system, issuing 10 Gallon did not actually require the preparation of 1 Silver Coin, but printing money too far off from the silver reserves could trigger systemic financial risks.

Printing large amounts of money and then lending it to contractors to forcefully fatten up a thin person was not feasible here.

The fragile local economic conditions fundamentally lacked the basis for "spending next generation’s money in this lifetime," and survivors already eating dirt could not suffer further.

Thus, Baiyue Corporation’s CEO, Fang Chang, initiated a discussion group on the Forum and convened the shareholders for a general meeting. After explaining the project details, they voted and ultimately decided that Baiyue Corporation would fund these fifteen heavy-asset projects.

This approach was actually identical to what had been done in City of Dawn years ago when it heavily engaged in infrastructure.

That is, strong refuge-collective holding companies would take on the most challenging but unavoidable projects and chew down the tough bits. Once the cake was baked larger, it would gradually be distributed to other local survivors by the Managers, letting them also have their fill.

Meanwhile, the already massive "Bull Horse Group" and others would move out of the Alliance’s territories with its army or commercial teams, venturing into the broader Wasteland to create new profit growth points—in places like Ideal City, Sunset Province, Giant Stone City before its transformation, and even the not-so-friendly Free State and Falcon Kingdom among others.

In fact, both Potato Harbor and Jin Galun Harbor were products under this model, although the strategies executed by players in these two locations varied significantly due to different specific circumstances.

Once the thirty-seven infrastructure projects at Jin Galun Harbor were completed, the total economic output of this port could surpass Silver Moon Bay, becoming the new trade hub on the Poluo Sea.

After all, Silver Moon Bay was backed only by a kingdom of a million people, while this location was already a settlement of a million residents, supported by a feudal dynasty known as Thousand Tribes and Thousand Gods.

In this sense, both the thirty-seven infrastructure projects underway at Jin Galun Harbor, and the numerous spontaneous projects by private parties, as well as the harbor and underwater pipeline construction projects at Potato Harbor, were equally important to the Alliance, which was endeavoring to unite the survivors of the Wasteland.

The latter provided visible bonds.

While the former, invisible, yet truly existed...

...

The weather in June was like a child’s face; one moment the port was covered with dark clouds, and the next a scorching sun hung in the sky.

It was just past eight o’clock, and the port felt as hot as midday, with the seagulls circling the masts emitting cries as if they were about to die from the heat.

Paru, who was on duty, yawned and decided to go stand under the duty booth for a while.

It might have been around the same time last time, or perhaps even earlier.

Standing here, all he did was yawn, and in the blink of an eye, the local Governor Lord and His Majesty the Emperor had vanished, the sly-looking Mandar instantly became a police officer in the harbor area, and the former police chief Bihari did even better, becoming the chief of police for the entire settlement.

Chief of Police.

Undoubtedly a novel term for Jin Galun Harbor.

As well known, apart from the real security in the harbor area, there were no patrolling forces elsewhere—unless there was a murder or a noble’s cat or dog went missing, reporting it to the authorities was generally futile.

Rich folks’ daughters never walked into alleys, and the population in poor families was continuously changing; keeping track of how many people lived in each household year by year, how the deceased died, was purely thankless work.

They were like grass rooted in the red soil, a crop blown by the spring breeze followed by another crop. Now, there was a group who saw them as real people, a real advantage for them.

Paru felt his yawning had played a small part in this.

After all, if he had not been slacking off, it was possible the city defense army might have discovered the arrival of a menacing group at the port earlier, and General Arai Yang of the Grey Wolf Army might not have suffered that defeat outside the city.

If another yawn could send the Alliance packing, that would be great, as being taken advantage of by those "snake, rat, insect, bird" types was truly bothersome.

He just wanted those haughty masters to politely call him an officer or a sir; he didn’t want to be equals with those inherently lowly commoners.

For example, he used to be able to arbitrarily use his gun butt to discipline his servants, but now, if he struck someone without a valid reason, those "Iron Men" would go to complain to his dear Chief Mandar, who after being reprimanded would have ten thousand ways to make him suffer in silence.

Resigning himself to the situation was also not an option.

Those Iron Men were clever; they never came to him directly, only targeting their leader by directly threatening their leader’s critical points.

That’s why, although he felt no affection for this position, he still had to maintain an appearance of impartial law enforcement.

Fortunately, today the port was as peaceful as ever—dust filled the construction sites, crowds bustled on the roads, and the busy people had no leisure time to cause trouble.

Whether it was the merchants shuttling through the docks or the laborers carrying boxes back and forth between the warehouses and docks, everyone was using their brains and strength to hustle, just to have a couple more "Gallons" in their pockets. Even the seagulls flying overhead were busy stealing French fries from the Iron Men and their bears.

If it weren’t for a careful recollection, he would have almost forgotten what had happened here over a month ago...

Just then, a ding-ding sound came from outside the duty booth, and a bicycle with a police badge on it screeched to a halt at the door.

A young man agilely swung off the bike, darted into the duty booth in his police uniform, and shoved a thick document bag into the yawning arms of Paru.

"Please deliver this to the station on the north side of Knight Road; they urgently need it."

Seeing that it was nearly the end of his shift, Paru couldn’t help but ask,

"Why me?"

This young man, named Bacher, reminded him of a Yorkie, a recent recruit to the security force.

Although his colleagues at the security bureau had a generally good opinion of him—being warm-hearted and agile, and serious about his duties—frankly speaking, Paru didn’t like this Mouse Tribe youngster much.

First, naturally because of the guy’s identity, and secondly because he seemed a little too enthusiastic about this new job, lacking the dignity expected of a security officer.

So eager for praise from those Iron Men?

"You’re just about to get off your night shift, and you live there; it’s on the way. Just help me out," the Mouse Tribe young man said with a smile, clasping his hands together. "Please, please, I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow!"

"..."

Although Paru rolled his eyes wordlessly, considering that he could get off work early and snag a free breakfast, he still reached out and took the sealed file bag and stepped out of the door.

Watching Paru walk off into the distance, he called out,

"Aren’t you riding the bike?"

"I can’t ride that thing," Paru snorted, feeling somewhat that the young man was flaunting the perks received from the Iron Men, his voice tinged with displeasure.

What’s there to show off.

That bike isn’t even yours!

Bacher, however, didn’t care and replied cheerfully,

"It’s pretty convenient. I heard that the guards in City of Dawn also ride these things, they just have an extra battery! If you’re free someday, I can teach you! With someone teaching, you won’t be afraid of falling."

"No need."

Paru, with his back to him, waved the file bag impatiently and quickened his pace away from the street.

Everything here was changing.

No matter the things on the street or the people, when he occasionally awoke, he always felt left behind by everyone.

The residents of the once Tulip Street were nobles and ladies in long gowns and dresses, yet now even the despised rats had infiltrated.

It was the Ah Xin family over there, wasn’t it?

Paru looked at the mansion in the distance, once owned by the Weilante People, his eyes unintentionally filled with scorn and disgust, as if he was looking at a cookie nibbled by rats.

The hard-earned property of the Weilante People had been cunningly snatched away by a rat who engaged in petty theft. He really didn’t see anything good about this so-called order.

If given the choice, he surely would have preferred to return to the era of Governor Nehark, when people were much more polite than they are now...

Paru quickened his pace and soon passed Knight Road, which isolated the rich from the poor.

It was a circular road surrounding Tulip Street.

Previously, the city’s defense forces loyal to the governor and the Alliance had fought a bloody battle here, but now there were no traces of the battle.

The buildings riddled with bullet holes and streets overturned by artillery had been entirely cleared away.

Recently, the Alliance had embarked on major construction here, not only dismantling the destroyed roads but also digging up the intact ones, keeping the nearby streets perpetually shrouded in dust.

Bacher’s mentioned police substation near the train station construction site was nearby.

As Paru walked there, he glanced into a pit surrounded by barriers and saw several shirtless workers lifting thick, heavy wooden beams onto the ground.

He had seen such wood at the port storage area, seemingly brought over by the Baiyue Corporation’s leased freighters from Potato Harbor.

Previously, Jin Jialun Harbor had never imported such things, and he had no idea what these workers were using them for, so he cleared his throat and called out emphatically.

"What are you doing?"

The busy workers didn’t notice him, absorbed in the clanging noises and unable to hear his shouts.

Only the workers who had just finished and were resting bothered to look up, saw his police uniform, and thought he was there to inspect, so they began explaining.

"Sir, this is the Alliance’s construction site, and we have construction permits."

The mix of respect and fear in their expressions made Paru’s face reveal a hint of satisfaction. He nodded perfunctorily and continued.

"Ahem! As long as you have the permits... Make sure you do a good job at Iron Man’s site, and don’t try to be smart. If we catch you, you’ll be in trouble!"

Although he didn’t like the Alliance, he wouldn’t dare to find fault in their construction site.

The men showed innocent expressions.

"We wouldn’t dare, officer."

"Yeah, the foreman keeps a tight ship!"

"And we couldn’t slack off even if we wanted... we can only work up to ten hours per shift. If we work extra, the performance and wages go to the next shift, and we get fined!"

Paru was momentarily puzzled, not understanding why working extra would result in penalties.

However, he didn’t probe further and coughed before asking something else that he was more curious about.

"What are you constructing?"

"A railway!" one of the workers replied with a smile.

Paru was taken aback.

"A railway? What do you need that for?"

The workers looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. However, one perceptive young man chirped up.

"To modernize the port."

"Modernize?" Paru muttered to himself, "I’ve never heard that word before."

"Coincidentally, we don’t really know either, it’s what those Iron Men are talking about! But as long as it’s clear this thing can transport stuff, that’s enough!"

The young man had just finished speaking with a laugh when another person added, "It doesn’t matter if we haven’t heard of it, as long as we earn wages!"

Paru couldn’t help but to ask.

"Where does it transport goods?"

"One underground transports people, and the other around the port handles goods. That’s being worked on by a different team, not our project. You’d need to ask them about where they’re taking the goods."

"Transport people?!" Paru widened his eyes, disbelieving that a few wooden sticks could transport people.

Seeing his shocked expression, the young man said with a smile.

"Yes! I hear that the train moves very quickly on the tracks; even those living in the suburbs can come to work in the port area!"

Paru opened his mouth, continuing to inquire.

"Then... then how much do they pay you? How much do the Iron Men pay you a month?"

As the subject of wages came up, the previously boastful dark-skinned worker broke into a proud grin.

"2200 Gallons!"

"2200 Gallons?!"

Hearing this number, Paru was shocked again and secretly calculated in his mind.

Wasn’t that...

Enough to buy fifty-five kilograms of corn?!

Recently, many citizens of Jin Jialun Harbor had learned from the Iron Men how to cook corn and cornmeal, adapting their diets to resemble those of the Iron Men, turning into the new trend for the city dwellers. The price of corn had risen from initially 1 Gallon per two kilograms to 2 Gallons per two kilograms.

That’s 20 Gallons per kilogram.

However, if buying coarse grains like black beans or chickpeas transported by water, a kilogram would cost about 8 Gallons!

As for West Winds currency, it scarcely appeared at the stalls frequented by the citizens; it was said to be used only in the dealings of big shots.

Paru couldn’t calculate right away how many kilograms of beans 2200 Gallons could buy, but he knew that he made only 1800 Gallons a month.

These laborers were earning more than him!

"How can there be so much? I remember the recruitment... said it was 1600 Gallons, right?" Paru couldn’t help but ask enviously.

The workers laughed and said,

"That’s just the base salary! In addition to that, last month we received a bonus of 600 gallons!"

"The foreman told us that as long as we work quickly and well, earning the approval of those Iron Men, we could even receive a bonus equal to our salary!"

"I’m done. Do you guys need to rest a bit more?"

"Let’s head back together... I’ll go buy some steamed buns later."

"I’ll pick up some fried beans on the way."

"Where did you get the alcohol?!"

"Hehe, I’ll tell you secretly, those Iron Men never finish it..."

A group that seemed well-rested climbed up from the pit using a ladder and returned their hard hats to the rack nearby.

Paru watched them blankly, seeing something different in those sweaty young men, yet he couldn’t quite articulate what it was.

In the past, there were many people who labored hard, but he had never seen anyone able to smile after their work was done.

No —

To be precise, he had never before seen those slaves complete their work, let alone have the opportunity to consider what they might eat afterward.

Perhaps...

The world really had changed.

Paru left with a worried face, heading to the nearby harbor police substation, and upon a colleague’s reminder, found the local substation head.

He knocked on the office door, stepped in, and was relieved to see that the substation head, about the same age as him in his thirties, also had lighter skin, scarcely weathered by wind or rain, and the demeanor of a well-educated, respectable urban dweller.

Paru instinctively adopted a more humble demeanor, slowed his steps as he entered, and handed over a file bag with a friendly smile.

"It was Bacher who asked me to bring this."

The chief looked at him, surprised,

"That fast?"

As he spoke, he quickly took the file bag from Paru’s hands, tore open the seal, and took out a thick stack of papers to skim through.

After a moment, he nodded in approval.

"Not bad, thank him for me later. I’ll write a letter to your station to express my appreciation."

Despite feeling a bit envious, Paru still managed a smile and nodded.

"I’ll let him know."

As he spoke, he paused, then couldn’t help but ask another question.

"By the way, Chief, if I may ask... what are these papers for?"

The chief picked up a cup of tea, took a sip to moisten his throat, and succinctly said,

"Identity registration documents."

Paru was startled.

"Identity?"

"Yes, as per those Iron Men’s request. Recently, a lot of refugees have swum over from the Everflow River, they claimed that several nearby villages had famines. The Governor’s Office has asked us to quickly set up an identity verification system for the locals, to at least register their names, ages, genders, and the general streets they live on... You in the harbor area live among recognized residents, but it’s more troublesome here, being full of shacks. Some of the workers don’t go home for days; it’s good that we have your cooperation."

Saying this, the chief massaged his temples showing signs of headache, clearly troubled by this issue recently.

After listening, Paru was taken aback.

He had indeed heard a rumor; the Governor’s Mansion planned to issue some kind of identity card to the residents of Jinjaron Harbor.

At the time, he was inwardly grateful that these Iron Men were finally planning some real good deeds, such as thoroughly segregating the Rat-men from the populace, but it turned out it was only for registering these details.

"Just... to register this?" Paru couldn’t help asking, looking hopefully at the chief, expecting to hear words like "Nearly forgot" or "Just remembered."

However, to his disappointment, the man just looked at him blankly.

"Just these, anything else?"

"Nothing..." Paru suddenly felt somewhat despondent and, under the puzzled gaze of the chief, turned and left the office.

He actually had been quite looking forward to the card featuring a horse.

Though the Horse Clan wasn’t considered particularly noble, they were still much better than those of the Snake, Rat, Insect, Bird...

Leaving the police station, Paru, dragging his exhausted body, started walking home as the rising sun made his neck and back feel slightly hot.

Muttering curses at the rat that stole his time to return home, he unconsciously quickened his pace to get home before the streets got too hot.

However, just as he stepped over his home’s threshold, at that moment, the clock from the harbor chimed eight times, startling a group of seagulls perched on the roof.

Paru’s old face involuntarily flushed.

Only then did he realize that he had arrived home much earlier than usual...

...

At just past eight o’clock, as the sun bathed Jinjaron Harbor in a golden hue, the sky over the west coast of Poluo Province was still a dim glimmer.

A majestic cargo ship was slowly approaching the newly built concrete dock, connected to a tightly packed expanse of shanties sprouting like moss across the barren land.

A man in a crisp military uniform stood on the deck, smiling as he watched the harbor bathed in the morning light.

"West Sail Port, along with West Sail City and even the fertile, rich Nasit State next to it... Everything here is our spoils of war, as well as the spoils of your father, Mr. Bennott. Pick a nice angle and take a photo; make sure the early light just falls on our bow. I like that glistening effect."

Standing behind him, Penny sighed reluctantly, took a few shots towards the harbor and bow, then flicked her hair that rested on her shoulders and said,

"That means we’ll need to stay another hour on deck... And, esteemed Governor Hue, you don’t need to teach me how to take pictures; I know how to make your ship look big and beautiful. How about I give you the camera, and you take the shot yourself?"

The man paused at her words, then laughed heartily but did not reach for the camera.

"True to Mr. Bennott’s daughter!"

"I’ll leave it to you then!"