Chapter 172: The Observing Army
Before he was sixteen, Hal Maxwell lived a good life as the son of a wealthy family in a heavy industrial city in the north of the Kenyan Empire. Before he was twenty-five, Tattle Joe was an excellent successor to a middle-class family in the metropolis of Kargath in the Rhine Kingdom. Both of them have seen the world and have a different perspective from ordinary people who are amazed by the food of instant noodles.
When they were tricked by Yang into the depths of the Tarantan Wasteland, the two men did not regard the daily necessities Yang distributed to them as something rare, unlike Pansy, who had never been rich in her life. The fried instant noodles made from fine flour, the plastic-wrapped toast bread, bulk cakes, starch sausages, and bulk snacks were not beyond their understanding... They were just surprised by the generous (actually abusive) use of industrial seasonings.
In short... in the eyes of Hal and Tattle, the living supplies provided by Yang can represent the sincerity of this evil black magician to win their hearts, but it is not enough to make them fight for their lives - whether it is the northern city of the Kenyan Empire or the big city of Kagath in the Rhine Kingdom, they have enjoyed a better material life.
This "arrogant" mentality was slapped in the face when he was sent to Innadli City to carry out a mission.
The three brothers were all on the wanted list, so it was impossible for them to live a life of debauchery in a non-home city like Innadri. In addition, they did not have much money... They were destined to hang out in the tavern area, hotel area and free market area on St. Joseph Street.
So they had a chance to reflect on the living conditions of the general public in this world...
The lower class people in this world cannot enjoy the treatment of having their wallets swept by industrial food - the lower class simply does not have much financial resources to form a market large enough to feed the food giants. Oligopolistic enterprises like those in the United States that monopolize the food basket of their people with ultra-low-cost junk food will naturally not be born.
As for the government taking the lead in the vegetable basket project...don't even dream about it.
It is not in the interests of the ruling class to allow the largest number of ordinary people to have enough food to eat and do nothing all day long, and to have time to think about all sorts of things. The more stable and feudal and lazy the rulers are, the less they want the common people they enslave to have the energy to rebel.
In other words, the living conditions of the general public in this world are very natural, non-industrial and pollution-free... Not only are there no fertilizers or hormones in the production process of food raw materials, the food processing process is also very natural and original, with no worries about any industrial additives - of course, the ensuing problems such as high cost, low yield, uneven quality, and excessive market price fluctuations are also inevitable.
In the blocks east of St. Joseph Street and near the city river, there are more than 20 mills that are powered by ancient water power and use stone mills as the main processing equipment. They provide the daily wheat flour and corn flour for hundreds of thousands of civilians in the city of Innadri. These roughly processed flours with bran and impurities are distributed to various markets and shops, made into bread and flatbreads, and then sent to thousands of households.
The bread that Tuttle couldn't swallow after just a few bites was just this kind of food made of roughly processed coarse grains. Even though the chef of the tavern spread a layer of butter on the upward side of the bread to increase the flavor, and cut the bread layers with a knife and stuffed a lot of shredded meat, shredded vegetables and jam into it, it couldn't cover up the fact that this thing had poor palatability, bland taste, and was choking.
Not to mention the half-finished vegetable buns heated up by the orc girl Lika in the Undead Canteen, Tattle felt that when he was still squatting in the Exile Town and struggling to cook his own food, the big bags of toast bread that Yang casually threw to them every week were enough to make this kind of bread, which was regarded as the signature staple of this tavern, pale to the ground.
Pansy didn't dislike the wheaten bread he was used to, but he had a problem with the malt beer brewed by the tavern owner... Why didn't he find it so unpalatable before? Why was it so different from the bottled beer sold in the Undead Canteen?
"Didn't I spread the news to the women (prostitutes) on the street and gave them some money to spread it? I received a reply last night. The news has spread to those high-end clubs on the north street."
Tuttle saw a few homeless kids leaning on the window and peeking into the tavern. They grabbed the leftover bread and threw it over, causing the guys to scramble for it.
Seeing this, Pansy handed over the remaining bread on her and Hal's plates... Although he could still eat more, it was really nothing worth remembering.
"Those idle dudes will definitely go, but we can't just rely on them." Hal frowned and said, "Pansy, what about you?"
"I went to find the casino on this street." Pansy endured the discomfort and took another sip of malt beer, saying, "The new Lord of Westram has launched an honor challenge to the Cult of the Blazing Sun. The casino is very interested in this matter. The game has been opened and the gamblers have also started. The people in the casino and those who have placed bets will be concerned about the outcome of this battle and will definitely go to watch it when the time comes."
"That's a good idea." Hal gave Pansy a thumbs up.
"How's it going over there? Is everything going well?" Tuttle asked.
Hal chuckled, took out a copy of Innadri Weekly, proudly turned to the second page, and showed his two companions the headlines on the second page.
Looking at the headline clearly, Tuttle & Pansy both gave a thumbs up... Hal is worthy of being able to do this!
"That bastard editor was still bargaining with me and asking for an exorbitant price. I told him that he could either let the news I provided make the headlines or let the news about his mistress being kidnapped make the headlines. It's up to him to choose," Hal said proudly. "Didn't Tuttle recognize that his wife was the beloved daughter of a noble from Kargath? I want to see how tough this bastard who relied on his father-in-law to get to the top is."
Tuttle didn't know whether to laugh or cry... He didn't expect that Hal could get the job done so easily just by chance recognizing that the wife of the weekly editor was the daughter of a noble family in his hometown.
"How do you know that the editor-in-chief has a mistress? I've never heard that you are familiar with Innadri before." Pansy asked curiously.
"Because this loser used his wife's last name." Hal sneered, "It's common for losers like these to rely on women for their glory and then turn around and despise women for bringing shame to them after a few days of glory. You can tell with your ass that this guy will definitely go to another woman to seek self-esteem."
In other words... Hal succeeded in making the threat without knowing whether the other party really had a mistress, or who the mistress was or where she was hiding.
Tuttle and Pansy were not at all surprised by Hal's extraordinary means. After all, Hal has always been like this... As long as there is a 30% chance of winning, Hal dares to take a gamble.
Seeing that the publication date was tomorrow, Tuttle let out a long sigh of relief: "Once this newspaper is published, our mission is completed. Will we go back tomorrow?"
"No hurry." Hal pressed his hand towards Tetar to comfort him, and looked at Pansy with burning eyes, "Which casino opened the gambling game? How strong is it?"
Tuttle & Pansy: "..."
Hal would never let go of any opportunity he could get, this was also his character...
The three Hal brothers knew very well how disgusting the undead were. This was not a question of a 30% chance of winning, but a question of whether or not to pick up money if it was thrown away... Tuttle and Pansy chose to go along with the crowd without much hesitation.
After confirming that the one opening the market this time was Innadri's largest underground dealer with a lot of money, Hal, a former leader of a thieves group with a very ruthless heart, decided to make a big bet -
He first led two of his friends to the alleys in the hotel area and controlled more than a dozen clients.
After forcing and luring these clients to sign and fingerprint an employment contract that was actually quite fair, the three Hal brothers took these clients, who were forced to sell their bodies as "human accounts", to underground money lenders to borrow high-interest loans...
After collecting a huge amount of gambling money in the middle of the night, the three Hal brothers took these "human accounts" to the casino to bet that Westram would win...
Finally, before dawn, we need to send these clients who have been frightened all night and destined to be frightened for a while to come home one by one, and remember their home addresses...
After reaching a large bet in such a speechless way, the three Hal brothers returned to the hotel area with a lot of bills, booked a room to catch up on sleep, and waited for the Battle of Honor to arrive...
Tuesday, December 1st, Earth time.
It was November 4th in the other world, and it was still a nice autumn day with clear skies and crisp air.
Early in the morning, the childish voices of newspaper boys could be heard in every district of Innadri:
"Today's second page headline! The new Lord of Westram has declared war on the Knights of the Inquisition of the Church of the Blazing Sun!"
"Don't miss the honorable battle between Lord Westram Charlie Rex and the Cult of the Fiery Sun!"
Most of the workers and migrant workers only know a few words and cannot read newspapers. Moreover, they are reluctant to spend their few copper coins, so they just join in the fun and chat for a few minutes.
The common people who had spare money and time to read newspapers, the middle-class families who subscribed to newspapers for a long time, or the wealthy people who had heard the news a long time ago and participated in some underground gambling game, were much more enthusiastic... Early in the morning, people all over the city were discussing this new thing.
The biggest position of ordinary Innader citizens on this matter is... that they have no position.
After all, the general public's understanding of Westram is limited to the "cloth of the dead" that is only circulated secretly. Because it is taboo to mention the word "dead", most people, after obtaining this good cloth through undisclosed channels, usually only refer to it as "the cloth from over there".
When they heard that Westham was going to go to war with the Church of the Fiery Sun, the citizens were only concerned about one thing: whether they could still buy "the cloth from over there" in the future.
For this reason, many people came to the Innadri Post Office early in the morning to inquire about the news, all asking whether the postman from Westerme had come...
The noise made by the middle-class families was obviously bigger than that of the ordinary citizens. For the first time ever, the wives and grandmas visited each other early in the morning, and half-true and half-false rumors were flying everywhere... It was nothing more than whether the legendary illegitimate lord was handsome, whether he had a future, whether he would enter the Innadeli social scene, etc.
People in the upper class know much more inside information and care about more things than the lower classes.
The current Lord of Innadri, Viscount Bartles, Adela III, knew about Westram's declaration of war on the Solari a week ago.
The Viscount did not think that this matter had anything to do with him, but he was still interested in using other people's knives to test the strength of his enemies. Before dawn, before the newspapers with explosive headlines left the printing house, Mr. Gould, the loyal butler of Viscount Bartles, had already led a cavalry team of the city defense army out of the city and rushed to the manor near the battle site.
In the city of Innadelli, the Darcy family, whose power was recognized to be second only to the Bartles family, also sent a team to observe the battle after dawn...
If Charles Rex lost, then when the Bartles family attacked Westram, Viscount Darcy would not mind following behind and cheering, and getting a little gravy; if by any chance Charles Rex won, he would also have to consider whether to establish a relationship with the illegitimate lord.
Most of the powerful barons and lords in the city who had the power to "get their hands on the broth" thought so, and there was an endless stream of teams leaving the city. Even Baron Marcus, the former lord of Westham, rushed over with his bodyguards and thugs.
By noon, the middle class who had rickshaw drivers at home, the rich who participated in the gambling, and the unemployed who came to watch the fun, all left the city...
When the Inadli people went out to watch the battle so "enthusiastically", the nameless wasteland agreed by the two warring parties as the battlefield was calm and peaceful.
The Cult of the Fiery Sun had come to inspect the battlefield a week ago, and rented a farm about four kilometers away from the battlefield three days ago and stationed troops there.
Every morning and evening, this warlike, elite cult would send out scouts to patrol the battlefield to ensure that no one could tamper with this nameless wasteland used for battles of honor. The cult did not take Charlie Rex seriously, but no matter how cautious they were, they could not be overly vigilant against the evil figure behind Rex.
Early that morning, the scouts once again patrolled the designated battlefield.
When going around to the southwest, the scout team discovered... a camp that was highly suspected to be an enemy camp.
The scout captain immediately asked everyone to hide, took out a small pair of binoculars and placed them on his nose.
With just one glance, the scout captain confirmed that this was indeed the enemy's camp - there were both humans and undead clearing the ground, setting up tents, driving stakes, and pulling thorns as barricades. These undead were all wearing armor and holding sharp weapons, which was very consistent with Westram's characteristics.
But there are some subtle differences between this and the enemy I imagined...
"Why are they all black-skinned, white-haired Sokre people? Isn't Charlie Rex a Rhinelander?" the scout captain muttered in confusion.
He held up the telescope and observed for a while in confusion until a familiar face came into view.
" Charlie Rex is here too." The scout captain put down his binoculars and sneered contemptuously, "This guy actually dared to go out on the expedition himself. He is really too confident."
