Chapter 652: The Prodigal Son in the North

Chapter 652: The Prodigal Son from the North

After all, we're old friends—surely I can't give them less than an outsider?

Chu Guang had thought so, but when he saw the acquisition proposal of 1 billion Cr, he was still taken aback.

Buying with money is fine...

Do I look like someone who can be bought with money?!

In the conference room of the Alliance Building, Chu Guang and Yi Chuan sat at a round table.

Thinking the administrator was dissatisfied with the amount, Yi Chuan coughed dryly and lowered his voice to continue.

"The price can still be negotiated... Also, aside from the stated amount, we can privately deposit a sum into your personal account."

This situation was not uncommon in Cloud Province; many big shots from settlements had bought mansions in Ideal City with views of the sea of clouds. Even beyond Cloud Province, far away in Clearspring City of River Valley Province—a place that was not even a partner—Boulder City had previously sent many of its elite to relocate their families.

But because the distance was too great, the so-called nobles of those settlements usually couldn't afford much Cr, and in Ideal City they could at most live a life similar to ordinary people.

The Alliance was an important strategic partner of the Corporation, naturally not comparable to Boulder City.

The two sides had signed a currency swap agreement long ago, and its strategic significance naturally exceeded that of the Corporation's general partners in Cloud Province.

At least in Yi Chuan's view, this was not a taboo that couldn't be discussed, but after hearing his hint, Chu Guang's expression turned serious.

"Mr. Yi, how long have we known each other?"

Yi Chuan was taken aback.

"Over half a year... What's wrong?"

Chu Guang said with a pained heart.

"Do you think I'm that kind of person?"

Seeing his expression, Yi Chuan was dumbfounded.

Before the other could speak, Chu Guang continued.

"Our Alliance is indeed still backward, not as prosperous as yours, but I am willing to stay with my companions."

"Such words that undermine unity should not be said again!"

Yi Chuan nodded with a wry smile.

"Sorry... I was presumptuous. But this is just one of the options we offered, no offense intended."

Chu Guang sighed and continued.

"I understand that spending money is the easiest way, and problems that can be solved with gold coins are not problems, but what we are discussing now is a new thing that may determine the future of the planet beneath our feet... Let me ask you differently: would you sell an immature product to a customer?"

Yi Chuan instinctively shook his head.

"Of course not."

Chu Guang looked at him earnestly.

"We are the same."

"We have opened a completely new branch in the study of mutant slime mold. We have placed great hopes on it, hoping it can end the wasteland, hoping it can bring us a better, more harmonious future... In the new world we envision, mutant slime mold will no longer be a weapon, but a medium that can help us understand ourselves and the universe."

"Precisely because we have placed so many expectations on it, we do not want to burn ourselves out prematurely before it is perfect."

Yi Chuan nodded in understanding but couldn't help asking.

"But... wouldn't involving more scholars and experts help realize your dream?"

Guessing he would say that, Chu Guang sighed.

"Yes, but we know well the unreliability of human nature. We must be vigilant against it being used for other purposes. Whether out of goodwill or malice, it could lead to unpredictable consequences... You must have seen what Jinchuan Province has become."

Yi Chuan looked at Chu Guang in silence.

"Then... in what form do you wish the cooperation to proceed?"

"At least not in the form of a buyout acquisition," Chu Guang gently pushed the agreement on the table back and continued, "I can tell you our bottom line."

Yi Chuan nodded seriously.

"Please go ahead."

Chu Guang raised three fingers.

"First, the Hive is not for transfer. 'Xiao Yu' must remain in the Alliance, and must stay in our vault. Only then can the Hive be absolutely controllable."

"Second, to prevent new mutations, we will not cultivate new mother entities with independent consciousness, thus avoiding loss of control."

"Third, we will extend a helping hand to areas that need Hive removal, but the aid plan must be based on the opinions of our researchers, and our people must lead the entire implementation process."

"Apart from these three non-negotiable points, everything else is open for discussion."

In simple terms, Xiao Yu was like the Alliance's 'giant panda.'

But its significance was not just for viewing; it could also unlock the 'blind boxes' sealed by mutant slime mold on the wasteland for over two hundred years.

The ruins unlocked in downtown Clearspring City were enough to trigger a technological explosion for the Alliance, and there were many ruins on the wasteland no less impressive than Clearspring City.

Not just on the Central Continent, not even just on land.

The Alliance could share research results for the benefit of all humanity, but for the Alliance's own interests, Chu Guang had to keep Xiao Yu in Vault 404.

Through human radio, psychic interference, and quantum computer technology, Xiao Yu could be freed from a series of natural constraints such as 'self-limiting' and 'insufficient computing power,' allowing 'sub-bases' to be spread across the entire planet.

And as long as Xiao Yu's main body remained in the vault, these sub-bases spread across the world would also be safe and controllable.

After hearing Chu Guang's conditions, Yi Chuan opened his mouth, not having expected such deep considerations, since the Corporation's understanding of Xiao Yu was still based on the series of smoke screens released by the Clearspring City Daily.

After a moment of hesitation, he couldn't help asking.

"What about the data exchange agreement on mutant slime mold research we signed earlier?"

Seeing the concern in Yi Chuan's eyes, Chu Guang said with a smile.

"Of course it's still valid. We just hope that before this technology matures, we will lead how this new technological route continues to develop."

Pausing, looking at Yi Chuan who had relaxed, Chu Guang continued.

"We may not represent the final future, but for now, this is the most promising route we have explored to solve the current problems. I trust our scholars and technicians, and I will support them to go all the way without any interference."

Looking at the shorthand notes on the holographic screen, Yi Chuan pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger, and after a long while sighed.

"I will report your requirements to the Council... but to be honest, I can't think of a better alternative than 1 billion Cr. Perhaps you can give me a hint or suggestion."

The biggest difference between the Corporation and the two major powers, the Legion and the Academy, on the issue of Hives was that they did not have a large territory, only a prosperous Ideal City.

There were Hives in Cloud Province, but those Hives were not on the Corporation's own turf.

Moreover, according to the self-limiting nature of mutant slime mold expansion they had discovered, the small population and wild mutants on the wasteland were insufficient to support their frenzied reproduction like two centuries ago.

In other words, the Corporation was very interested in the mutant slime mold in Clearspring City, as it could unlock large unexplored areas. However, they had no urgent need to solve the Hive problem in Cloud Province.

This was also why the Council was more inclined to negotiate a suitable price with the Alliance.

In contrast, the Legion, which had conquered vast territories but was helpless against the problems on its own land, was far more eager to obtain the technology to control the slime mold.

The Hives entrenched in the territory of the Verant people were far more numerous than those in the Wandering Swamp, Cloud Province, and River Valley Province combined...

Now that the Academy and the Corporation had come knocking one after another, with the news spreading, it was likely that a representative from the Legion would also arrive in Dawn City before long.

Negotiating alone with those lunatics would hardly yield any concessions, unless the corporation and the academy were brought in together...

Chu Guang pondered for a moment, then suddenly had an idea and blurted out.

"We could establish a multilateral, cross-regional cooperation committee to address issues related to the mutant slime mold."

Yi Chuan hesitated and asked.

"Something like the Post-War Reconstruction Committee?"

Chu Guang shook his head.

"Not exactly. This committee would have no administrative binding power and wouldn't involve other fields—only issues concerning the mutant slime mold. Each party could present their demands at the meetings, discuss them openly with other members, and seek common ground while reserving differences."

If consensus could be reached on the agenda regarding the mutant slime mold, cooperation in other areas could also be built on that foundation.

At the very least, it would establish a basis for trust.

Yi Chuan thought for a moment, seeming to realize the benefits of forming this committee, his eyes growing brighter as he spoke.

"That sounds like a good idea! Including the demands you raised earlier, I'll report everything to the council!"

A smile spread across Chu Guang's face. He rose from the conference table along with Yi Chuan, who stood up as well, and extended his right hand to the man approaching him.

"I hope we can work together pleasantly!"

...

While Chu Guang, representing the Alliance, was discussing the details of the "Symbiotic Slime Mold Research Committee" with the corporate representative, Cinderson, locked in a small dark room, was undergoing interrogation by the Praetorian Guard.

To the surprise of the interrogator in charge, before they could even begin the questioning, Cinderson, who had just been seated in the chair, spilled everything in a torrent.

And it wasn't just Cinderson.

The same went for the other six suspects.

They were all merchants dealing in nutrient paste and fertilizer raw materials. This year, they had planned to take advantage of the peak wave season to buy a batch of fruiting body remnants and sell them to the Free State. But the Alliance authorities suddenly issued a document stating that the fruiting body remnants were no longer for sale.

Not just this time—never again.

Seeing their surefire deal slip away, these merchants flew into a rage. They had already found buyers, and now the Alliance was telling them no.

So, Cinderson hatched a plan: the "Qingshui City Daily" case, aiming to stir up public opinion in Dawn City and pressure the Alliance authorities.

But he clearly underestimated the internal cohesion of Alliance society. This trick might have worked slightly in the old Boulder City, but for the survivors of Dawn City, it only backfired spectacularly.

Staring at the three-page confession, the two interrogators sitting at the table exchanged glances. One of them looked at Cinderson and couldn't help asking.

"...You did all this for that?"

Cinderson nodded nervously, trying to explain.

"This... isn't a small matter. It's a deal worth over a billion."

A billion Buck dollars converted to about ten million Denars, or roughly a million Alliance silver coins.

The two interrogators didn't know what to say for a moment. They exchanged looks, communicating with their eyes.

'Could he be lying?'

'The confessions from the other suspects are pretty much the same, and we didn't find any other evidence in the room... That possibility is slim.'

'Damn it... for such a trivial thing, I thought it was some major case.'

'%￥#@!'

Seeing the interrogators' faces grow darker, Cinderson became even more terrified. Finally, unable to bear the fear, he cautiously asked.

"Two sirs... I, I'm really not a spy."

The interrogator on the right said grimly.

"The current evidence doesn't prove you're a spy, but your actions still caused extremely bad repercussions and indirectly led to severe losses for Alliance citizens' property."

The other interrogator continued.

"Last night, the protestors burned down the warehouse of Tujia Printing Factory. Today, newspapers across the city are out of stock. Estimated losses are probably over a million silver coins. Even if you're not a spy, you can't escape the charge of incitement and sabotage."

When he heard that the protestors had actually set the printing factory on fire, cold sweat broke out on Cinderson's forehead. This was completely different from the script he had imagined.

He dared not think about what would happen if he fell into their hands. What terrified him even more was that by now, everyone probably knew he had been taken from the Road Town Hotel.

In other words, they already knew who he was...

"I'll pay compensation! I'll pay!" Clenching his cuffed fists, Cinderson pleaded. "I'm willing to pay double the damages, just let me leave here... I swear I'll never do this again!"

The interrogator chuckled scornfully, casting a contemptuous glance at him.

"Regret now? Where were you before?"

The other interrogator said in a mocking tone.

"Incitement and sabotage is a public prosecution case; there's no settlement. Financial compensation might spare you from hard labor, but you can't escape a sentence of over ten years. If you ask me, if you were actually a spy, you might get leniency. But you did something this stupid for just a few million. We'd like to help you find a chance to earn merit, but there's nowhere to look."

After wasting a whole night and catching only a small fry, both were utterly exasperated, taking out their frustration on this guy.

Seeing that pleading was useless, Cinderson tore off the mask of forced humility and roared at the two men at the interrogation table, his bluster masking his fear.

"I'm a merchant from the Brugge Free State! I'm not your citizen! You have no right to arrest me! I, I want to see your administrator!"

Watching his pathetic display, the two interrogators chuckled.

"You want to see the administrator?"

"We don't care where you're from. Even if you were a relative of the Legion's marshal, if you break the law on our turf, you'll face justice."

Cinderson's eyes were filled with terror, but he still couldn't help threatening.

"Aren't you... afraid of causing a diplomatic incident?"

Looking at this cornered fool, both interrogators burst out laughing.

"Diplomacy? What do we have to discuss with you?"

"If you're not satisfied, let your army come and try."

At those words, Cinderson slumped into his chair like a deflated balloon, his eyes filled with gray despair.

The Free State's army would never mobilize for a small fry like him. Even if his trusted associates outside could hire mercenaries for money, those scattered troops would be no match for the Alliance's army.

He had heard that long ago, Legion agents in the Free State had hired mercenaries to attack the Alliance's northern region, only to be utterly routed.

Word had it that those guys hadn't even run into the Alliance's regular forces.

The two sides weren't even on the same level.

It seemed he was destined for prison...

...

Meanwhile, at the Great Rift, Origin City.

A man sitting in the reception room quietly gazed at the settlement outside the floor-to-ceiling window, a faint sneer on his lips.

Stale, desolate, oppressive, lifeless—like a drowsy sunset—every negative adjective he could think of fit this settlement perfectly.

This settlement, known as Origin City, was the earliest settlement on the wasteland, even older than Ideal City on the East Coast.

But with the dissolution of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, this settlement had long lost its former glory, leaving only a faint, thinning afterglow lingering over the barren yellow earth.

This settlement was like an old man with one foot in the grave, exuding a stench of decay that made one wrinkle their nose.

Yet, upon seeing the chief secretary emerge from the room in a white robe, the man’s face still assumed an expression of respectful humility, and he gave a slight nod.

The chief secretary gazed at him expressionlessly, like a priest, and spoke in a solemn, emotionless voice.

“Please follow me.”

The man nodded again, exchanged no words with him, and followed his steps through the open door into the conference room, where a long table of obsidian stood.

An elder with white hair and beard sat at the head of the table.

That elder was the master of the Great Rift.

The man bowed slightly and said courteously,

“Respected Chief, may I ask for your instructions?”

The elder, addressed as Chief, did not speak at once but said in a genial tone,

“Please, have a seat.”

The man nodded in acknowledgment, pulled out a chair at the far end of the table, and sat down.

His name was Odo, and he was the mayor of the Free State, a position equivalent to the lord of an ordinary survivor settlement.

The previous mayor had been impeached and removed from office for secretly supporting the Legion’s atrocities in the Luoxia Province, and the newly appointed Odo was a staunch pro-Enterprise faction—that is, he supported the Free State Parliament’s push for reforms aligning with corporate management systems.

Though accusations persisted that he had taken black money from Sigma, the boss of the Flintstone Corporation, in the eyes of many Free State citizens, he remained an approachable leader.

And for the Chief seated at the conference table, the same held true.

Compared to the previous mayor—arrogant, unruly, and colluding behind his back with the Legion’s eastward expansionists—he much preferred this humble young man.

He was young, capable, and bold, with clear pupils like a blazing torch.

The elder did not like the Enterprises that had once betrayed the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, nor did he approve of the choices of those rebels, but he admitted that there were things worth learning from them.

Watching Odo sit at the table with an air of eager inquiry, the elder slowly began to speak.

“I have heard that the Hive Nest in Clearspring City has been eradicated by the Alliance. It seems to be a young power, newly established, and their leader is the overseer of Vault 404.”

Odo nodded respectfully.

“I have heard of this as well.”

A satisfied smile spread across the elder’s face as he continued slowly,

“It seems you have not forgotten your mission. I am pleased. The Mutant Slime Mold is one of the greatest threats on this wasteland. Over the years, we have made many attempts, but regrettably, until the dissolution of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, we never truly resolved it…”

Odo listened respectfully as the elder recounted old tales, but in his heart, he harbored a faint disdain and contempt.

In his view, the war two hundred years ago was foolish enough—a group of people, for inexplicable beliefs, reduced two worlds to rubble, forcing everyone to suffer together.

That it had come to this was utterly beyond redemption.

A bunch of old fossils already in their graves, unwilling to take their failures and shame into the tomb for reflection, still prattling on and meddling in the affairs of the young.

To put it bluntly, he cared nothing for the Mutant Slime Mold, had no interest in worrying about it for the wastelanders outside, and even less understanding of why they should bother about their survival.

Why not just let them die?

If they all died, there would be no wasteland.

But seeing the elder’s approving look, Odo, for the sake of his supporters, reluctantly echoed,

“…That is indeed a remarkable miracle. There is much we can learn from them.”

The elder nodded slowly, his clouded eyes fixed on the young man before him.

“I am glad you think so… To make a long story short, I fear I might drift off again without noticing. My time is not worth your wasting your precious youth waiting.”

He paused, then continued in a gentle tone,

“I wish for you to do something.”

Odo sighed inwardly—here it comes again—but maintained his respectful expression and humble demeanor.

“Please, instruct me.”

The elder spoke slowly,

“You and they are both survivors of the River Valley Province, but I have noticed you are not on close terms. That is unwise. I hope you can foster better relations and cooperate more on issues facing all of humanity… Now seems like a good opportunity.”

Odo was taken aback, then smiled bitterly.

“We… are not opposed to cooperation, but whether they are willing is hard to say.”

As always, this old man never considered the current situation when offering advice.

The Free State of Brugge and the Alliance were competitors in regional affairs; their diplomatic relations had never been cordial from the start, and there had even been friction.

Not to mention whether they could establish friendly ties with the Alliance—the key point was that in their diplomatic strategy, the Alliance was not even worth befriending.

Its very existence had been a mistake from the beginning.

The Bone-Chewing Rebellion should have destroyed everything from the central to southern River Valley Province, like a wildfire paving the way for the Free State’s southward expansion—a path they were “inconvenient to clear themselves.”

The previous mayor had even planned to rendezvous with the Legion’s eastward expansionists in Clearspring City.

But then this Alliance, appearing from nowhere, took in fleeing refugees, repeatedly defeated the Bone-Chewing tribe and the Legion’s eastward expansionists, shattering their plans entirely and wasting billions in investments.

Though Odo was not pro-Legion, and in fact held completely opposite political views to the previous mayor as a pro-Enterprise man, they shared one thing: a desire for true freedom.

The survivors of Brugge refused to be puppets of a tomb.

Yet whether seeking help to the west or to the east, the Alliance entrenched in southern River Valley Province was the greatest obstacle.

Odo wished the Alliance would explode into fireworks tomorrow—how could he possibly cooperate with those wastelanders on an issue they didn’t care about?

They would rather liaise with the Torch Church to the south!

But all this could not be said, and even if it were, it would be meaningless.

That old man was too old; he could no longer listen to others’ opinions, nor did he care about what others valued. In those clouded eyes, there were only dying fantasies and unrealistic yearnings for the past.

His greatest sin was living too long.

No one should live that long.

“One must try, mustn’t one?”

Unaware of the curses silently brewing in the young man’s heart, the elder smiled faintly and continued in a gentle tone,

“Go and try. Consider it a task I set for you. If you pass the test, I will increase your energy quota for the next five years by 15%. Of course, if you fail, I will regretfully have to raise energy prices appropriately over the next three years… I hope you understand why I urge you in this way. It is necessary encouragement.”

Though the Free State of Brugge had its own solar, wind, and geothermal power facilities, these renewable sources alone could not sustain the entire settlement’s consumption.

The Great Rift supplied over 70% of the Free State’s energy, and that was one reason this city that never slept could rise from the wasteland.

Generations removed, he did not understand how today’s young men thought, nor did he know how to communicate with them, but using energy as leverage to make them obey had always been a good idea.

A century and a half ago, those poor souls needed energy to light fires and keep warm; a century and a half later, their children needed energy to support their luxurious lives.

No matter how they used that energy, in his eyes, it was all the same. Moderate rewards and punishments could motivate the young.

This method had never failed him.

These legacies were ultimately theirs; he was merely guiding them appropriately.

Just as the old man had anticipated, the young man slowly lowered his head and spoke with reverence.

“I shall remember your teachings. We will give it a try.”

A gratified smile spread across the old man’s face.

Yet his clouded eyes failed to notice that as Odo uttered these words while bowing, he could not help but clench his fist hidden beneath the table…

This humiliation.

One day, he would repay it twofold!