Chapter 676: Next Stop! Fries Port!

Chapter 676: Next Stop! Fries Port!

At the Ring Island Governor's Mansion.

Chaning walked into his office as usual, tossing the newspaper he'd picked up on the way onto his desk, ready to start another day of tea-drinking and paper-reading.

But no sooner had he settled into his chair than a pungent, foul stench made him wrinkle his nose involuntarily.

"What's that smell?"

Why is it so rank!

Rising and moving to the window, Chaning intended to open it for some fresh air, yet the moment he cracked it open, a wave of stench blew into the room on the sea breeze.

His eyes stung from the odor, and now he finally understood where that acrid smell was coming from.

He slammed the window shut, pinched his nose, walked to the office door, and waved over the secretary from the next room.

"Damn it... What's going on at the port? Why does it stink so bad!"

The secretary, clearly suffering from the smell as well, looked helplessly at the governor's questioning.

"...The cargo ship Northwest Wind just docked, bringing over a thousand pieces of fur."

"Fur?!" Chaning stared at him blankly, then said instinctively, "How can fur smell this foul?!"

The secretary grimaced.

"It's the kind freshly skinned from mutants—not only are the blood and grease not cleaned off, but it looks like it's been fermenting for a while."

"Freshly skinned from mutants?" Chaning's eyes widened in surprise. "Where did they get them?"

Over a thousand freshly skinned furs...

That's no small number!

Though the residents of the thirteen islands in the southern sea occasionally sail to the beaches south of Baiyue Province to hunt, even the most experienced hunters rarely dare to stay long; bringing back one or two prey at most is already impressive.

The main food sources on the islands are fish from the sea, cultivated algae extracts, and the occasional grain and livestock sold here from Silvermoon Bay.

He hadn't heard of any port producing so many furs—

Wait.

Chaning suddenly thought of the Alliance's outpost on the north shore of the Baiyue Strait. Those people had previously sent a congratulatory telegram to the South Islands Federation authorities via Ring Island's radio, under the name "Fries Port."

He had initially dismissed them as a joke, thinking they wouldn't last long and would back down, but he never expected they'd actually hold out?!

As if confirming his guess, the secretary swallowed and said, "I heard from the patrol that the Northwest Wind imported those furs from that settlement at the eastern exit of the Baiyue Strait... that Fries Port."

Chaning was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath and said, "I see."

Seeing the governor lost in thought with a grave expression, the secretary nodded cautiously and turned to go back to his own office.

But just as his hand touched the doorknob, the door was suddenly pushed open from the outside, nearly hitting his nose.

Before he could see who it was, an aggressive voice blew in with the wind from the door.

"Governor! We must do something about that ship!"

Looking at the man striding into the office, Chaning, standing by his desk, pressed his temples and shot a glance at the secretary at the door.

"Go pour Mr. Stilwell a cup of tea."

"Yes... sir."

The secretary nodded, cast a quick look at the rude fellow, then turned and left, closing the door behind him.

As the door shut, Chaning turned to the furious port office director and said in a calming tone, "Have a seat—"

"Don't waste time," the director named Stilwell waved his hand, cutting him off rudely, and pressed on aggressively. "I don't understand why you're so lenient with those people! We're a settlement of the South Islands Federation, not the Alliance! Today they can scrub those furs on our docks, tomorrow they'll be selling their asses right under our noses!"

Chaning coughed.

"That's probably not going to happen... So far, they've been following the rules."

"You call this following the rules?" Stilwell walked to the window, pointing angrily at the two cargo ships outside. "Now the whole port stinks of rot! Anyone would think Vault 70 sent us a biological weapon!"

"But there's no rule saying ships docked in port can't wash clothes on their own decks..." Seeing Stilwell glaring at him, Chaning felt his own argument was weak, so he cleared his throat and said, "Alright, one week. If that ship is still hanging around here after a week, I'll give them an ultimatum."

"You said the same thing last week!" Stilwell retorted bluntly. "Give them a week! Why not just give them until next month!"

Caught out so mercilessly, Chaning's expression turned awkward, and he felt a surge of anger, but there was nothing he could do.

"Fine, I admit I'm worried about the Alliance's reaction and don't dare kick them out. But what's wrong with that? We're at war with Vault 70, and the situation is getting worse for us. Those old turtles just shut their doors and everything's fine, but we have to take care of millions of people's needs! We have to supply the Federation Navy! If we offend those people now, do you know what that means?"

Stilwell sneered.

"Two thousand kilometers away—can they just attack us directly?"

Seeing the man's indifferent expression, Chaning chuckled dryly.

"I'm not joking. They actually have that ability. I've heard our northern neighbors got a taste of their power."

Watching Stilwell's expression turn uneasy, Chaning picked up the teacup from his desk, took a sip to moisten his throat, and continued.

"If I were them, I wouldn't bother with all this trouble. Just a word to the Hump Kingdom to cut off the shipping route from Silvermoon Bay to here—guess how many people on this island would be left with nothing to eat? Are you sure you want me to take that risk for something that's thankless?"

Stilwell's mouth twitched.

"So we just have to put up with it?"

"Being generous doesn't hurt," Chaning shrugged, taking another sip of tea. "Since they're paying the late fees according to the rules, we'll let them stay according to the rules. They can't stay forever anyway... Or do you have a better idea?"

Silence filled the office for a long moment.

The port office director clearly couldn't think of a better plan. His lips moved but no words came out.

Just then, the office door opened, and the secretary who had gone to make tea entered with a tray.

"Mr. Stilwell, your tea."

Stilwell glanced at the teacup on the tray, then at the incompetent governor, swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue, and walked out through the open door without a word.

He still thought the Ring Island Governor's Mansion was too soft on the Alliance.

But he also admitted, as that man had said, that facing the Alliance behemoth, they had no better choice than to remain restrained...

...

Time ticked by.

The sun soon moved from east to west, then sank below the sea, leaving layers of shimmering gold on the distant waves.

Dockworkers squatting on the pier, enjoying the sea breeze and drinking beer, idly watched the cargo ship stained with blood and grease, and the busy girls on its deck.

By around four in the afternoon, the smell on the dock had faded.

Some of the women scrubbed with mops, some rubbed by hand, others scraped with knives, cleaning the furs thoroughly.

Then, bucket after bucket, they scooped seawater from the sea and splashed it over the furs.

Under the torrents of seawater, the stinking bits of flesh and fat were washed into the sea, becoming bait for the fish.

Once the furs were thoroughly rinsed, the girls hung them upon wooden racks, lining them up neatly across the deck like rows of sails.

Those "sails" became natural barricades.

A short-haired girl and a great white bear were racing frantically around the fur racks, playing hide-and-seek with a group of giggling children.

Of course, they were not entirely making things difficult for those busy drying the pelts.

Earlier, when the furs required repeated pounding with wooden sticks, the two clowns had contributed quite a bit of effort.

Watching the girl and the bear leading the children in hide-and-seek, knowing smiles graced the faces of many mothers.

It felt as though it had been a very long time since such a scene had last been witnessed...

On the other side of the deck.

Some twenty girls, around fifteen or sixteen years of age, were rubbing barrels of marine mutant grease into the inner side of the furs under the guidance of an old woman.

The grease of these marine mutants was rich in unsaturated fatty acids, which would slowly oxidize in the hot and humid environment, creating polymers that naturally enveloped the collagen fibers of the inner hide, granting it a supple texture and excellent hydrophobicity, while the resulting aldehydes cross-linked with other oxides and the skin collagen fibers to produce a tanning effect.

The steps of the fur-tanning process far exceeded these alone, involving a whole series of procedures including alkaline water soaking, rinsing, and more.

However, once this work was done, the rot of the furs was essentially halted, and these goods, which originally totaled only a little over a hundred thousand silver coins in value, more than doubled worth as a result.

If all of it were hauled to Silvermoon Bay, a single piece of cargo could fetch a price of one thousand silver coins at the very least! A thousand pieces would mean a million!

And this was without counting the premium goods included within, such as the blood sable pelts.

The royal courts of the entire desert would go wild for it!

Yet, magnificent though the worth of these furs might be, their allure to the gentlemen sitting upon the docks was clearly no match for that of the exotic girls.

Particularly since this sort of water-heavy labor inevitably soaked their garments.

Many hot-blooded young men stared with dry throats and fixed eyes, unable to do anything but down bottle after bottle of beer.

Thanks to this, the taverns alongside the docks enjoyed quite a boost in business.

"Are they Moonites?"

"Yes."

"They don't seem any different from the other people who came here from the Bhairava Province."

"Speaking of which, this ship has been docked here for over a week, and this is the first time I've seen them all standing on the deck."

"I'm more curious about how so many people squeezed onto the ship."

A young man with slightly curly hair scratched the back of his head, turning to ask his companion beside him.

"I still can't wrap my head around why that Xilan Empire... wanted to drive these industrious girls away? Couldn't they just give them work to do?"

He had never seen people who could endure hardship quite like this.

They could work without a moment's pause under the blazing sun from midday until dusk, whether they were little girls of eleven or twelve or elderly folk.

To the islanders of the Ring Island, whose living conditions were reasonably comfortable, this was simply incomprehensible.

The slightly older man beside him narrowed his eyes, took a swig from his beer bottle, and said casually.

"Who knows. Beyond the sea is all wasteland. The Seacliff Province is, the Baiyue Province is, the Sunset Province is too, let alone the Bhairava Province... Ghost knows what those fellows on the wasteland are thinking."

In his youth, he had once ventured onto the wasteland, escorting the blue-coats of Vault 70 north to a place called Qingquan City to recover some data.

Ever since that time, he had lost all interest in the world on land, and completely understood why their ancestors had insisted on moving to this secluded little island.

That wasteland was simply hell.

No matter what happened there, it was not worth being surprised over...

Just as the workers on the docks were taking advantage of the final moments of dusk to admire the beautiful scenery on the deck, Mogawi, standing on the deck of the Northwest Wind cargo ship, was likewise staring with fixed eyes, his heart racing and his breath catching involuntarily.

Yet what stole his gaze was no exotic beauty, but rather those fresh and renewed furs!

The soft, beautiful fur swayed gently beneath the setting sun, gleaming with a dazzling light, looking in his eyes exactly like glittering gold coins!

Of course.

Describing it this way certainly contained an element of exaggeration, for most of the furs had only undergone a preliminary washing, and it would still be some time before they were tanned into final products.

But even so, these scrubbed furs fared infinitely better compared to their previous bloody, greasy, and raw condition!

"Simply marvelous! Thank you! I truly don't know how to thank you enough!"

Handing the bag containing one hundred and ten thousand silver coin banknotes into Sisi's hands, Mogawi's face was a picture of intense emotion, incoherent with excitement.

It was no exaggeration to say that among all the trades he had made this month, this was the one that made him feel he had received the absolute best value for his money!

It seemed the Alliance was not entirely composed of unreliable fellows.

Receiving the payment from the NPC's hands, Sisi opened the bag and counted carefully, pulling out a few bills to verify their authenticity.

Once confirmed that there was no issue, a smile finally appeared on her face, and she replied in a teasing tone.

"That's simple enough. Just pay us a few tens of thousands more silver coins."

Hearing these words, Mogawi nearly choked on his own spit, coughing twice as he spoke.

"Cough... Though the idea sounds splendid, there truly isn't a single banknote left in my pocket right now."

Not believing his nonsense for a second, Sisi merely smiled faintly, then handed the money bag to Zhimahu beside her, whispering instructions.

"Go transfer the payment to those people. I won't show my face."

"Mm! Leave it to me!" Zhimahu nodded with a beaming smile, trotting happily toward the other side of the deck.

Mogawi's eyes remained glued to that bulging money bag until it disappeared around a corner of the deck with that cheerful, retreating figure.

Withdrawing his gaze from the distance, he looked back at Sisi and smiled sheepishly.

"Right... Um, about washing the ship, I'll trouble you with that as well, don't forget."

Sisi smiled faintly and said.

"Rest assured, my memory is not that poor."

With that, she turned and walked toward the ship's cabin.

Watching that silhouette about to disappear into the cabin doorway, Mogawi, possessed by some unknown whim, suddenly called out as if driven by a ghost.

"Hey, are you free in a bit?"

Seeing the person halt her steps, he braced himself and forced a bright smile onto his face, one that ill-matched his usual temperament.

"If you are free... how about having dinner together? My treat."

Looking at the NPC's comical expression and his raised hand, Sisi could not help but smile faintly.

However, she did not wish to waste time on a completed side quest, and this NPC's looks were not quite to her taste either, so she politely declined the invitation.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I have already eaten."

"Alright then..."

Understanding the tactful refusal, Mogawi awkwardly withdrew his raised hand and scratched the back of his head, "That truly is a pity... I recall there being a rather nice restaurant around here."

Though the feeling of being rejected was disheartening, a disappointment of this degree meant no more than a sesame seed to a businessman like him.

Especially when he thought of the value of that batch of furs, he instantly tossed this negligible regret to the back of his mind, his face once more brimming with a confident smile.

He had no doubt that once he transported this precious cargo back to Silver Moon Bay, his name would become a new legend in Silver Moon City!

The noble ladies and young misses of the entire city would go mad for the exotic goods he brought back from the East!

In that port of boundless prosperity, what could not be bought with money?

If there was—

It could only mean one hadn't enough!

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the deck.

Having searched the deck for a good while, stepping past rows of racks displaying stretched furs, Zhima Hu finally found Granny Sangru, who was teaching the younger members of her clan the art of tanning hides, and handed her the pouch containing one hundred and ten thousand silver coins.

But what Zhima Hu hadn't expected was that when she cheerfully told the old woman that these silver coins were payment for their work, the old lady stared at her in shock, then without further ado pushed the pouch back into her hands.

"Take it away, how can this be! These things within our power are what we should do. You took us in when we were homeless—we are already endlessly grateful. How could we be so brazen as to take your money?"

Seeing that Granny Sangru had clearly misunderstood something, Zhima Hu explained with a wry smile.

"No, you've misunderstood. This isn't payment from us... it's from the cargo ship over there. You helped them process these furs—this is the fruit of your labor that you've earned—"

"That won't do either!"

The old woman stubbornly shoved the pouch back into her hand, her withered fingers gripping tightly as if afraid she might let go, and said in a sincere tone, "Even if you give us money, we have no use for it. Better to leave it with you. If you need to buy anything later, use this money first! We trust you!"

It wasn't just Granny Sangru.

The other Moon Clan girls nearby were the same, all pleading with her to take the money back, refusing to accept any payment.

"Yes, please keep it for us!"

"We just wanted to help you with something—we never thought about any reward."

Never having dealt with such a situation, Zhima Hu was at a loss, looking at the stubborn group and not knowing how to persuade them.

Just as Zhima Hu was feeling troubled, a spirited voice suddenly cut in from the side, rescuing her from the dilemma.

"Oh! Don't worry, old lady, this huge sum will soon have a chance to be put to good use!"

Hearing that loud voice, everyone turned to look in its direction and saw Tail standing there with her hands on her hips, accompanied by Rourou.

"Tail?" Seeing Tail appear suddenly, Zhima Hu's face showed surprise.

Giving her a look that said "leave it to me," Tail turned to the gathered crowd, cleared her throat, and continued.

"Just now, I discussed with my companions—it's really not good to keep mooching off someone else's port. Besides, there's a war going on here; who knows when we might get caught up in it."

"Luckily, our companions have established a new settlement on the north shore of the Baiyue Strait. It's a vast expanse of unclaimed land. As long as you abide by the Alliance's laws, anyone can settle there!"

Hearing this, the crowd around stirred with murmurs, exchanging glances of surprise and bewilderment.

A vast expanse of unclaimed land?

But...

They had heard that place was a world of aberrants.

And would those already settled there really accept them?

Seeing the concern in their eyes, Tail continued energetically.

"Don't worry. Even though there are many aberrants there, we are the Alliance that defeated the Hive Mother of Qingquan City! A few aberrants are nothing—these furs were stripped from those very aberrants!"

Tangible facts were more convincing than any rumor.

The survivors of the South Archipelago Federation had once withdrawn from Baiyue Province, and the kingdom of Oasis No.4 had also taken a heavy fall there. Those who had been humiliated naturally spared no effort in painting a terrifying picture of Baiyue Province and the unconquerable forest.

But now, the players of Shutiao Port had not only gained a foothold in that unconquerable land but had also proven with facts that those savage, bloodthirsty aberrants were not invincible.

Although most survivors here didn't know what Tail meant by the Hive Mother of Qingquan City, when they looked at the rows of furs stripped from aberrants around them, they all unconsciously relaxed their brows.

Now only one concern remained in everyone's mind—

"Will they... accept us?" A fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl stepped out of the crowd, glanced hesitantly at the nearby port, and asked Tail in a small voice.

"Oh! Of course!" Tail gave her a confident look with a thumbs-up, and continued with a confident smile, "In fact, it was the survivors of Shutiao Port who invited us to settle there. They promised to ensure the safety of the settlement."

"There are many powerful experts there who can handle a few monsters or bosses without breaking a sweat, but they're still short on hands for basic work. Not just tanning hides, but also the salt fields near the port, and the orchards they plan to build later... Anyway, there are tons of places that need people! As long as you're willing to work, you can get paid like today and buy lots and lots of things!"

Seeing the longing and desire written in those gradually brightening eyes, a smile curled at the corner of Tail's mouth.

"Of course, everything there is just beginning. The conditions are still very basic—far from the Ideal City, I admit... but Tail can promise you that everything will slowly get better! So? Are you willing to go there with Tail?"

More and more people gathered around, and the increasingly noisy discussions spread outward through the crowd.

Some eyes were full of anticipation, but there were also those showing unease and anxiety about changing the status quo.

Just as everyone was undecided, a firm voice suddenly came from the side.

"I'm willing... I'll follow you!"

That voice sounded familiar.

Zhima Hu instinctively turned her head and saw Misa, her hair in a ponytail, looking seriously in their direction, pushing through the crowd toward them.

A look of surprise appeared on her face.

It was the first time she had seen such a brave expression on this shy girl's face.

Hearing that voice pick up her cue, Tail was as delighted as if she had discovered a new continent, and put on a serious expression as she looked at the brave girl.

"Oh! Young lady, you'd better think it over. Once you board our pirate ship—er, once you board our port, you won't be able to go to the Ideal City anymore."

"The Ideal City... that's someone else's home, isn't it? No matter how good it is, there's no place for us there."

Turning her gaze to the port so close at hand, and the faces of the onlookers on the dock, Misa's face lit up with a relieved smile.

"Rather than living the rest of my life as a dependent, I'd rather have a home of my own. Even if it's shabby for now, that's fine—I'm willing to stay with it as it slowly improves."

With that, she turned to face her fellow clansmen gathered around, gathered her courage, and raised her voice.

"Everyone... how long has it been since we last lived under the sun like today?"

From the moment they moved into the concentration camp at Golden Gallon Port, being selected like livestock by buyers.

From the moment the Xilan Empire, on some inexplicable pretext, stripped them all of their property and freedom.

That voice, not particularly stirring, resonated with countless people, including the venerable Granny Sangru, whose wrinkled face showed an expression of deep emotion.

The old woman tottered forward two steps, reached out her withered hand to take the girl's hand, and a warm smile appeared on her face.

"Misa... you've spoken what all of us couldn't find words to express. I feel it has been hidden in my heart for a very, very long time."

Then she looked at Zhima Hu, then at Tail, her aged eyes filled with gratitude and sincerity.

"I am willing to follow you, to go to that settlement. If there is ever anything we can help with, please be sure to tell us!"

As her words fell, more and more voices full of strength came from all directions.

"Me too!"

"Please take us with you!"

Seeing everyone so full of drive, Zhima Hu and Rourou's eyes shone with emotion, and Tail shouted excitedly.

"Oh! Then it's happily decided—next stop, Shutiao Port! Rourou, fire up the boiler and set sail!"

"Who's the captain here, anyway!"

"Don't sweat the small stuff! Hurry up, hurry up!"

Watching the two live wires suddenly kick up a fuss, Zhimahu couldn't help but smile wryly.

"Wait, um... shouldn't we wash the boat for them before we set off? They've already paid."

The tail pushing from behind suddenly froze mid-motion.

"Giao! I almost forgot."

"Ha ha ha!"

The hearty laughter drifted with the sea breeze toward the endless ocean, melting into the deepening twilight and the rolling waves.

Watching them from afar, a notebook cradled in her arms, Sisi couldn't help but let a gentle smile spread across her face.

Though this was undeniably a wasteland,

with these lovely companions by her side, she often found herself forgetting that fact...

Turning back, she entered the cabin.

Sisi spread the notebook open on the table, laid out the newspaper she'd bought that morning at the port beside it, and began cutting out noteworthy news items.

The side quests in this game were deeply hidden, requiring players to actively gather and analyze clues within the game world.

Thanks to Vault 70, the media industry in the Southern Archipelago Federation's settlements was fairly developed, making it much easier to obtain information than it had been in Silver Moon Bay.

It wasn't just about gathering intel for side quests.

She also needed to piece together the subtle hints in the news to track the war's progress in the southern seas and determine the right moment to enter Vault 70.

That place was currently under blockade by the Southern Archipelago Federation Navy, with warships patrolling the nearby waters and underwater drones carrying out search and mine-laying missions.

It wasn't the kind of place you could just slip into with a wetsuit.

The Southern Archipelago Federation was, after all, a power backed by Vault 70. From what she'd observed over this period, these people were largely like a "playerless alliance."

To some extent, they had ended the wasteland beneath their feet and established an order different from most of the wasteland's original survivor settlements. But due to various reasons, the members of Vault 70 had become detached from the local survivors, their identity shifting from "pioneers" to an aloof privileged class, leading to an outcome entirely different from that of Camp 101.

Yet what puzzled her was that the spark that ignited this war seemed far too careless, riddled with baffling inconsistencies.

And it wasn't just the spark—

there were strange details in the war reports as well.

"'Golden Coast' research vessel sunk... Good grief, they sure have a lot of ships."

Reading the caption under the image softly, Sisi cut it out from the front page of the newspaper and pasted it into her notebook, lining it up with three other clippings from different papers.

Rising, she walked over to the sea chart and, based on the approximate location given in the newspaper, drew a red circle in the northern waters of the Southern Archipelago as a marker.

Adding to the previous three, all four red circles were now clustered in the north.

A thoughtful expression settled on Sisi's face.

"That's the fourth one, and like before, it's outside the trade routes..."

Could there really be a submarine lying in ambush in a place like that?

She had no proof, but she felt she was getting close to the truth...