When Johan was about a hundred ters away from Weisshem's camp, he slled an extrely enticing and very familiar aroma.
Having only eaten a handful of boiled potatoes in the last 20 hours, Johan's entire sensory system went into overdrive. He inhaled deeply as saliva flooded his mouth, and even his stomach, quietly nestled in his abdon, began to contract, signaling hunger.
Johan wasn't the only one enticed by the aroma. He heard the man with a stubbly chin to his right gulp hard, making a gurgling sound.
Being in proximity to so many undead made these hunger-stricken young and middle-aged n too afraid to express their emotions, so they only quickened their pace unknowingly.
By the ti Johan, whose legs were starting to ache from the running, finally reached the front of Weisshem's camp, he could finally see the source of the aroma.
Beyond the camp walls made of wood and stone, on an open space within, large pots were steaming on a row of simple stone and mud stoves.
"They are here, they are here!" the n guarding the camp entrance called out, smiling and waving at the staggering newcors. "Quick, co in. Have sothing to eat!"
After a tense sprint of so 800 ters, the young and middle-aged n were gassed out. Gasping for air, they followed the instructions of these n and were herded into the camp.
These strangers from Weisshem seed to have experience organizing groups of people too, efficiently dividing the newcors into batches of 30 or 50 and leading them to prearranged areas to sit down.
As soon as Johan sat down, soone with a large bucket and a stack of bowls hurried over.
Like Johan, all the Indahl n's eyes were glued to the large wooden bucket. Those closer could better sll the enticing aroma, and if they hadn't exhausted all their energy and were practically unable to stand, a scramble might have broken out.
Soon, Johan received a glass bowl about the size of his palm (actually a lead-free glass bowl used in southern provinces for making "bowl cakes" and also used in beauty salons for mixing essential oils, available wholesale on Alibaba for 65 cents each), filled with a good half bowl of soup, so curly noodles, and several leafy vegetables.
"It's that aromatic noodle, the kind brought by the undead rchants!" Johan recalled the source of the familiar aroma, and he slurped down the contents of the bowl eagerly.
A day earlier, this type of aromatic noodles, priced at two copper coins per pack, were among the goods brought by the undead rchant caravan to the slums.
While slum dwellers didn't recognize the strange fonts on the packaging, the noodles were truly delicious… Those who could afford it created such an enticing aroma that wafted through the streets when cooking them at ho, leading slum folks to nickna these strange noodles "aromatic noodles."
People who have been hungry for long periods shouldn't overeat or consu too greasy foods. The battlefield conditions weren't ideal for elaborate cooking either, so the al prepared for these civilian n was quite simple: a large pot of instant noodles boiled with plenty of water and lots of leafy greens gotten from nearby farrs.
It could be described as bland, but these instant noodles wouldn't be critiqued by the world's lower-class folk. On the contrary, they were rather appreciative. When security squad mbers ca to collect the bowl, every one of these young and middle-aged n had licked their glass bowls clean.
Just an astonishingly low-cost bowl of soup with little substance had cald the crowd. Next, literate staffers appeared among the groups with registration books, recording nas, collecting ho addresses, and inquiring about work preferences…
The Bartalises had painstakingly gathered so many local, young and middle-aged n from the lower class, so wouldn't it be a waste not to take advantage of the situation?
These young n, with clean backgrounds (those with connections wouldn't be conscripted), hardworking, and willing to align with Weisshem, perfectly t Weisshem's needs. The Bartalises were just too considerate!!
These conscripted n never imagined that being taken captive would actually lead to job arrangents. It was no question for soone like Johan, who was already inclined toward Weisshem, while a large number of street laborers, previously without stable jobs, quickly pledged their allegiance.
Even those who had jobs in Indahl's South District, like waiters or workshop workers, didn't hesitate to ditch their old employers when they heard about the benefits of working for Mr. Rex: starting salaries of eight silver coins, free lunches, bonuses for full attendance, two sets of new clothes per year, and no union dues.
The point of not having to deal with unions won them over—who would want to give a tenth of their salary to strangers?
When a job fair kicked off right in Weisshem's camp, the scene at the west gate was also extrely lively.
Elite players didn't take long to secure the city gate, and once the general players finished the quest for receiving refugees, they sward in, overwhelming the few hundred city police in monts. Ȓ
The city defense force escaped swiftly. Seeing nearly ten thousand civilian n disappear without a trace, Commander Horn promptly led his n toward the north gate. The elite players, montarily distracted by taking the west gate, failed to capture him.
But with the city defense force gone, those high-ranking officials on the city wall, who were just as valuable in terms of prestige points to the players, had no chance of escape. As the players stord the walls, frenzy ensued.
The players were ecstatic because among the NPCs dressed like a mix of dieval nobility and early 20th-century European gentlen, several were plot-critical bosses with golden na, each capture worth thousands of prestige.
Their foes, though, Indahl's elite, from Lord Adra III to Steward Gould, the mayor, the sheriff, and other high-ranking city officials, all witnessed how the city defense forces briskly abandoned them…
"I told you that we should have locked that scoundrel Horn in jail!"
While Lord Adra III raged helplessly, trying to flee to the other side of the wall, his portly figure couldn't carry him far. Soon enough, the undead, drooling over his highlighted tag, rushed at him in a frenzied attack…
Half an hour later.
Riding on an undead horse that accentuated his identity as a black mage, Yang Qiu, along with Charlie Rex, Wagner Pitt, and over a hundred security squad personnel on lizard horses, entered the west gate.
Both sides of the west gate were completely under the players' control. The city police, stripped to their undergarnts (players had discovered that looting NPC clothing was the cheapest way to get costus), were tied up and dumped below the city gate. The Bartalis personal guards, city hall executives, and other officials were treated similarly.
The undead, who had captured the city so swiftly… lacked the consciousness to welco their lord. While the two "NPC lords" entered, players had ford a circle in the marketplace at the square near the city gate, watching a spectacle…
Encircled by the undead was the gold-lettered plotline boss, "Lord Adra III," stripped to his undergarnts and bound with nylon restraints, along with… Qin Guan and Brother Lahong who were fighting fiercely.
Wagner, who never imagined returning to Indahl city in such a manner, was completely perplexed.
"Yang, why are the undead fighting? Isn't the battle already over?" Rex asked in astonishnt.
Yang Qiu calmly explained, "Don't worry, they're just settling the issue of who owns Adra III."
Rex and Wagner: "??"
"The reward for capturing Adra III alive is 3,000 territory prestige points," Yang Qiu continued. "Both undead groups believe they contributed the most to his capture. Since they are unable to resolve the dispute through communication, they've decided to settle it through PK—a straightforward and effective solution, isn't it?"
Rex and Wagner: "…"
"Ignore them. In the end, no matter who wins, Adra III will ultimately be handed over to you," Yang Qiu said nonchalantly, riding past the uproariously excited players, glancing around before gesturing toward West Street.
From an inn at the corner of the street that had its windows and doors shut, a nimble figure climbed out from the attic window, landed lightly on the ground, and jogged toward Yang Qiu.
"Tuttle," Rex greeted the man as he approached, giving a friendly nod.
Of the forr bandits, Rex didn't have much regard for Hal but maintained politeness toward Tuttle Joe and Finley.
Tuttle nodded at Rex and reported to Yang Qiu, "Finley is waiting outside the city hall, and Hal is on Saint Joseph Street."
Satisfied with the trio's efficiency, Yang Qiu instructed, "Rex, take over the city hall. Wagner, assist Rex. I'll check on Saint Joseph Street."
"Alright." Rex imdiately headed to the city hall with the security squad personnel, not forgetting to take the captured city officials from among the prisoners before leaving.
After dispatching Rex, Yang Qiu quickly issued a looting… um, anti-vice quest to the onlooking players, instructing them to follow him and repeat the actions they took during the takeover of Weisshem on several of Saint Joseph Street's red-light establishnts.
Once the quest was issued, over a thousand previously idle players flooded toward Lord Yang.
It was around ten in the morning in OtherWorld, and there weren't many decent people still lingering in the pleasure districts. Allowing the undead to sweep through the inns, taverns, and clubs wouldn't harm many innocents.
As a large city, Indahl's shady industry was even more extensive than Weisshem's. To prevent turmoil throughout the city, Yang Qiu couldn't start by slaughtering the wealthy nobles. Cleaning up the vice required no reservations.
Reviews
All reviews (0)