This Game Is Too Realistic
Chapter 349.2: Turbulence in Boulder Town

Chapter 349.2: Turbulence in Boulder Town

And those long stockings that could be worn as pants... he vaguely remembered they were called Black Pantyhose?

Of course, they weren't necessarily black; there were also white and other colors, even transparent ones.

It wasn't limited to just stockings.

How on earth those frivolous folks came up with such vulgar and inappropriate ideas puzzled Jonah.

What made him especially frustrated was that although his rational mind told him those items were shrinking his wallet, he couldn't stop his eyes and hands.

Another businessman, who dealt in spirits, spoke up in frustration too. "And there's that Nuka Cola! Since that thing appeared, our distillery's orders have dropped by 10%! It's madness! Who likes drinking sugary water?!"

As several bigwigs continued to speak, the floodgates of grievances opened on the conference table.

"They've been pillaging our trades for a whole 6 months, yet those City Hall guys have done nothing about it!"

"I just can't understand it. We have cannons, planes, exoframes, thousands of mercenaries, and tens of thousands of them in our reserves. Why do we need to negotiate with them?"

"Even if we don't deploy the militia, just throwing some chips out, we can easily crush those locusts!"

Watching the heated discussions at the conference table, Vega remained expressionless.

He had organized this meeting to gather everyone to discuss countermeasures. However, unexpectedly, it turned into a session of grievances.

Everyone was venting their grievances accumulated over the past 6 months, yet no one could come up with specific countermeasures.

However, Vega didn't stop them. Sometimes, emotions could be a weapon.

After simmering with emotion for a moment, Vicky placed both hands on the table and slowly rose from his chair.

Surveying the people around him, he spoke up. "I've always been puzzled about how they managed to keep costs so low."

Upon hearing this statement, the people sitting at the conference table fell silent.

After a brief pause, Vega continued, "I found out that the New Alliance demands all factories to limit their workers to a maximum of 12 hours a day, paying a minimum hourly wage of 1 silver coin. If they work a full 12-hour day, they must be paid at least 12 silver coins, which means they will get 6 chips! This is nearly 3 times what we pay our workers!"

"That claim is questionable. Ordinary people can't easily convert silver coins into chips; they can only convert chips into silver coins," complained a factory owner, looking somewhat dissatisfied.

It sounded like he was being stingy, but to be reasonable, he had already provided those people with enough to eat. Not only hadn't he put them in shackles, but he was also paying them a wage.

Wasn't that generous enough?

If electricity and maintenance weren't so expensive, he would have replaced the workers on the assembly line with those android workers who could both work and perform well long ago!

Another factory owner nodded in agreement. "I've also heard that they have this thing called forced foreign exchange? Export profits are settled in the local currency, those silver coins. Only when necessary can it be converted into foreign currency at the bank."

"That's just cheating!"

"No wonder... My friend who went there to set up a factory complained to me, saying it was terrible to set up a factory there. He couldn't make any money at all and advised me not to go."

The crowd buzzed with discussions.

However, at that moment, Vega interrupted them. "Although that's what they say, those coins are still real, right?"

The room fell silent.

Looking at the quiet crowd, he continued, "If those silver coins were worthless, even if they offered more, those workers wouldn't want them, and the factories would have shut down by now."

Hearing this, the factory owners sitting around remained silent, looking somewhat puzzled at Vega, unsure why he was speaking in favor of the New Alliance.

Wasn't this the time for everyone to curse those cunning blue rodents together?

So much talk, trying to prove they weren't exploiting workers, and proving silver coins weren't worthless... Did that mean their business skills weren't good enough?

Who was he looking down upon?

Seizing the opportunity, Vega continued. "I later found out where the problem lies."

"According to my salesmen's research, setting up factories in the New Alliance allows wage expenses to be tax-deductible. I specifically calculated, and as long as the work efficiency within the unit time is ensured, although the wage cost may rise, the actual expenditure will be lower."

This was equivalent to using a part of the financial income obtained from the factory to subsidize the workers in the form of tax refunds.

With the rise in the common people's purchasing power, the light industries in the New Alliance became like sponges absorbing water.

And the factories operated by those blue coats were even more outrageous. They seemed to use a completely different system.

Due to language barriers and cultural differences, he still hadn't completely understood it.

But those were not the key points.

The key point was that these people were playing dirty!

After a brief pause, a look of anger appeared on Vega's face as he gradually raised his voice. "Not only that, they're playing tricks on the exchange rate, forcibly setting the exchange rate between silver coins and chips at 2:1. This is not competition at all; our manufactured goods can't even enter their market!"

"As you can see, our factories can't compete with theirs not because we're not diligent enough or because our production methods are outdated. Quite the opposite, we're too honest, and our opponents are too cunning!"

"They're using wicked means to snatch chips from us, watching our factories go bankrupt, and then throwing out a bunch of chips, plundering the wealth we've accumulated over 2 centuries!"

"From the beginning, we weren't competing on a fair platform; instead, we fell into their trap!"

After listening to Vega's words, many people showed expressions of sudden realization, as if waking from a dream.

In fact, it wasn't surprising that they hadn't thought of it before. The key was they had never encountered such a thing before.

Ideal City?

Their goods were indeed amazing, but they rarely flowed to the southern parts of the River Valley Province. One or two rare items couldn't constitute a threat, and the other side didn't value what they had in their hands much.

Before the emergence of the New Alliance, they were the only ones industrializing in the southern parts of the River Valley Province. As for places like Baker Street, Brown Farm, and other survivor settlements, they couldn't even be considered rivals, merely some small fry.

As for the southern farm owners, they were just the objects plundered by their factories.

However, now, an unknown threat seemed to have silently infiltrated this calm pool.

They faintly felt that something was amiss. The warm water they had been so comfortable in suddenly turned cold. They felt completely powerless.

A factory with no apparent advantages had managed to produce a bunch of cheap and practical alternatives using second-hand equipment and the workers they had eliminated, snatching away the market that belonged to them.

It wasn't until they heard Vega's words that they suddenly realized.

My goodness!

The other side had been shearing their wool with those clever tricks for a whole half year!

Now, the City Hall was foolishly signing some friendly cooperation agreement, talking about expanding trade and strengthening civil exchanges. They were almost being sold off, and they hadn't even come to their senses.

Of course, that was in the past. Now that they had realized the problem, how could they continue to endure this?!

The people in front of the conference table couldn't sit still anymore.

Jonah, who had been silent since the beginning, stood up angrily and slammed his fist on the table. "We must clarify this matter with Dulong!"

"Either reduce the industrial zone's taxes or impose taxes on New Alliance's goods!"

"Not just taxes! Also the exchange rate!" Seizing the moment, Vega continued, "Besides taxes and exchange rates, we need to expand the list of prohibited sales, specifying what they can buy, what they can't buy! How we should sell our products to them as well!"

"If our City Hall doesn't protect our interests, what use do we have for it?"

"We should unite! Put pressure on those foolish pigs! If our mayor doesn't respond to our demands..."

He elongated his tone, surveying the allies present and continued in a resounding voice.

"We'll give our employees a holiday!"

The words fell heavily, resounding through the room.

Support for him surged like a tidal wave.

"I agree!"

"I support it!"

"Count me in!"

Watching the passionately indignant crowd, Vega wore a confident smile on his face.

He didn't believe that he wouldn't be able to ruin that agreement!

Clearspring City, the edge of the northern fourth ring.

In the ruins-strewn urban area, a group of people were slowly advancing along cracked concrete roads.

Soldiers clad in exoskeletons spread out around them, cautiously alert to the shadows around them.

It was summer, and the lush vegetation and standing water in the ruins made the situation in the city area exceptionally complex.

The seasonal change system in Wasteland Online was as real as ever, but for various AAA games, it seemed to be a basic requirement.

"I have a foreboding feeling," said Ample Time.

"You've become a perception type too?" Walking alongside him, Old White, quipped, strolling leisurely with a loaded automatic rifle.

"What does that have to do with being a perception type? Isn't it reasonable to expect something to happen during such an important mission?" Ample Time rolled his eyes.

"You have a point," nodded Old White thoughtfully. "But come to think of it, with Night Ten not here, it feels like something's missing."

Not just Night Ten, Gale, and Quit Smoking weren't here either. It felt like they'd lost a lot of fun in an instant.

Thinking about it, an odd expression appeared on Old White's face.

If this wasn't a game, those 3 might never come back...

At that moment, the communication channel came alive with the voices of their teammates, the reconnaissance team he'd sent ahead.

"Spotted unidentified armed individuals about 500 meters ahead, around 20 in number, armed with automatic rifles and light weapons. There's a heavy machine gun too."

Just then, Old White's steps abruptly halted, his gaze gradually turning sharper.

Noticing the change in Old White's expression, Ample Time glanced at him, questioning. "Is something wrong?"

Gripping his right fist and making a gesture, Old White loaded the rifle he held with practiced ease. "Time to work."

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