Chapter 155 Mr. Salt
Just because the risk for real people to enter is too high doesn’t mean that this alien world has no value in development.
First of all, a completely new world that is completely different from the Earth has immeasurable scientific research value, whether from the perspective of biological samples or social sciences and humanities.
Secondly, the gold from other worlds that the players had worked so hard to snatch... uh, raised, and circulated to the Earth plane, has saved many small processing factories in Province G that were on the verge of bankruptcy - the bread and butter consumed by the aliens alone has already revitalized two agricultural and sideline products processing companies in Anshi townships.
For the entire Chinese nation, the current orders from other worlds are indeed a drop in the bucket; but for Province G, a backward province that lacks heavy industry and has little competitiveness in light industry in the country, it can be considered a timely help if rounded off - for example, the large amount of eggs purchased by Yang through the meat processing plant this time alleviated the feed pressure of a group of farmers in a certain township.
In order to solve the problem of overcapacity at home, China has been making friends all over the world (of course, it has also been buying resources from around the world and enhancing its international voice). The government has personally stepped in to open up markets for Chinese companies more than once or twice. If the Chinese government is to turn this alien world into a dumping ground for products, it is absolutely enthusiastic enough.
Even if the aliens cannot provide enough gold, the Chinese are still willing to do business. There are always minerals, timber, special biological samples, jewelry, jade, artworks, etc. that the aliens can provide.
As for the additional benefits brought by "logging in" to this world in the form of a game, they are just extras - anyway, if Yang wants to count on national support, he must provide a steady supply of helmets.
In short... as long as Yang, the mastermind behind the scenes, does not cross the bottom line of the country, it is necessary to maintain a good cooperative relationship and achieve win-win cooperation!
Zhao Zhenzhen knew with her knees that Yang was not satisfied with just controlling Westram. This guy must have set his sights on Innadri to play such a trick.
So from Zhao Zhenzhen's perspective, of course, she would stick to the principle of not interfering in other countries' internal affairs.
Yang is a magician, a spellcaster recognized by the natives of this world; Rex, the lord of Westram, is Yang's man, and Yang supports (pushes) Rex, the native lord, to compete with the noble family of Innadri for the right to rule - this is undoubtedly his internal affairs.
But... she is now the holder of a tool account in the game "Another World", which means she can also be considered a player if rounded off - a player completes the tasks issued by the overlord NPC, so what's the problem?
No. Problem!
Earthlings must have their own moral standards, and players must have their own moral standards!
While St. Joseph's Street in Innadri was brightly lit, outside the north gate, the slum area, which was as large as half of Westham, was completely dark, with only a few houses still lighting dim oil lamps.
John, a resident of the slum, and two young men who were on good terms with him gathered in a shack near the west entrance, talking in low voices and occasionally looking out through the gaps in the straw curtains.
"Last night, Mr. Salt distributed salt to everyone living in John's neighborhood. I don't know if he will come again today, and if so, where will he distribute it?" A big boy with freckles on his face asked curiously, "Who is this guy? I've been delivering newspapers at the newspaper office for so long, and I've never heard of such a person appearing in Innadri."
"Isn't it written in the newspaper? Even the gentlemen in the newspaper don't know about it?" asked another young man who was an apprentice in a workshop.
"No." The freckled boy shook his head. "Today I specifically asked a gentleman in the newspaper office who was willing to talk to us if anyone liked to give salt to others. The gentleman said he had never heard of such a thing."
"My mother saw Mr. Salt," John frowned. "My mother said that the man looked very friendly, but I know that was because he gave her salt."
"Could this person be a bad guy, John?" The freckled boy opened his eyes wide.
"I don't know. But Uncle Duck, whose house I go to every fall to help, used to be a city dweller. You know, the kind of people who live in the tavern district on St. Joseph Street. Uncle Duck used to hang out there," John said. "Uncle Duck always said that if someone is nice to you for no reason, he must want something from you."
The freckled boy and the apprentice looked at each other, both of them confused: "How can someone who can give so much salt to others carelessly be interested in us poor people living outside the city?"
John looked confused... This was indeed what he couldn't figure out.
Street gangs in the city sometimes come here to recruit fierce and brave young people. If a family's daughter is pretty, bar owners will come to chat her up.
But apart from the tough guys who dared to join gangs and the good-looking young girls, there was really nothing else worth a second look at the other residents of the slums...
"Huh?" The freckled boy suddenly put his face against the straw curtain and excitedly whispered in a low voice, "Come and see, someone is coming!"
John quickly leaned his head forward.
Under the moonlight, a tall man wearing a cloak and carrying a large backpack was walking into the slum area filled with shanties.
John opened his mouth and heard the inhalation sounds from himself and his companion.
What a tall and strong man he is! He is as tall as other people’s houses (sheds)!
The "big brothers" in those street gangs are not even two-thirds the size of this man!
The man who moved like an iron tower did not go in the direction where John and the other two were hiding, but turned into a narrow alley on the other side.
Starting from the first house at the entrance of the alley, they repeated the steps of knocking gently on the door and stuffing something into the windows that were usually covered with straw curtains.
"Is this distributing salt? To the people living in that area?" The freckled boy was surprised and excited when he saw this scene.
John and the apprentice said nothing. They both stared with wide eyes at the man who, after delivering the messages to the few households at the entrance of the alley, walked deeper into the alley and disappeared among the densely packed shacks.
"Should we go out and take a look?" The apprentice swallowed nervously.
John wanted to nod, he was just too curious...but thinking about the other person's extremely oppressive body, reason made him shake his head.
"It's better to just pretend that I didn't see it." John said reluctantly, "This guy came here after dark, and it seems that he doesn't want to be seen. If we disturb him and make him unhappy, and he stops giving salt to others... then we will be hated by others."
The freckled boy was shocked and said quickly: "Yes, yes, I almost forgot about this. Let's not disturb anyone."
The apprentice also reacted and nodded repeatedly.
Salt is not a rare commodity. In the city of Innadri, there is a row of five-pound salt jars at the bottom of the shelves of every grocery store.
But... these sea salts from the Eastern Nosk Federation are not cheap. A jar of salt costs two silver coins, which is equivalent to a week and a half's income for a waiter in a mid-range restaurant in the South City.
Not to mention the residents in the slums, even the common people in the city have to calculate the expenses in advance when they need to buy salt, or choose to buy a can of salt with relatives, friends and neighbors, and then pack it themselves.
If the standard for salt usage of ordinary people in the city is "just salty", then the highest pursuit of the poor in the shantytowns is to "add salt"... It doesn't matter whether it tastes salty or not, as long as it is salted.
Being able to pick up a small bag of salt for free is a great thing for the residents of the slums; if no one returns it, it would be fine, but some people get it while others don’t, and the reason these people don’t get it is that someone ruined the situation... then the person who ruined the situation will definitely be in big trouble.
What young people like John understood was obviously also understood by the older residents. No one dared to go out until "Mr. Salt" had distributed salt to everyone in the alley and left.
However… as soon as “Mr. Salt” left, many people ran out of their sheds, eagerly asking whether all the families in that alley had received salt…
While Zhao Zhenzhen was working hard to create a civilian hero character for the exorcist alias "von Alphonse", something was quietly happening in Westram.
At nightfall, two groups of people lurking on Martin Street began to move. One group headed for the Town Hall, and the other headed for the Town Avenue Shelter - the dormitory for the clerks of the Town Hall.
Rex hopes to encourage all young men and women who have been persecuted to participate in normal social work, and naturally will not separate Ms. Shirley, Ms. Sibel and others who have come out of the shadow of the past from others.
The ladies and men who have become official clerks still live in the two shelters with their former companions. Their transformation from body to soul, and their increasingly calm and confident smiles, are the best examples for others to learn and imitate.
Walton had met "Charlie Rex" before and was not suitable for the mission of sneaking into the town hall; he took his elite scouts and followed the route they had traveled during the day to the outside of the shelter.
As soon as Walton peered out from the shadow of the building and saw the gate of the shelter, he saw several security guards dragging a muddy man out of the alley beside , throwing him onto the street, and rushing over to punch and kick him:
"Do you know what this place is, huh? You come here to look for women? Are you tired of living?!"
"It's bastards like you that make us have to stand guard every night! Stand guard every night!"
Walton: “???”
Walton shrank back into the shadows in doubt and looked around the shelter intently.
Only then did I realize that... the shelter, which had no guard force during the day and only a few skinny men and women coming in and out, could be described as "impregnable" at night - inside and outside the gate and around the walls, there were security guards in groups of two or three!
Walton: “…”
He suddenly remembered that those capable clerks he had seen during the day did indeed have outstanding looks.
The locals of Westham have never shied away from the fact that all the clerks at the town hall are former red-light district workers.
The red-light district has been closed, and all the workers have been concentrated in one place. When it's late at night and everyone is asleep, some low-class men who can't control their primitive instincts are likely to come and cause trouble - not to mention the places where former red-light district workers live in large numbers, even in places with poor security in big cities, where only women live, it's not uncommon for doors and windows to be smashed in the middle of the night.
All the important clerks live here. Rex will definitely pay attention to the security issues here. It is only natural that the security guards on duty will focus on this area...
Walton also wanted to rush out and kick the bored man who was being beaten by the security guard - the carefully planned operation failed for such a ridiculous reason! !
Behind the angry Walton was a residential building several dozen meters away.
Hal "Razor" Maxwell, Ranger Tuttle Joe and Treasure Master Pansy, three former thieves with more experience in night travel and lurking, squatted on people's roofs silently like wild cats hunting.
"These idiots are so useless that they can be stumped by a bunch of militiamen." Hal said with great disdain, "Why don't they just hire a few drunks to start a fight and divert the attention of the militiamen, idiots!"
