"Look around you, what do you feel the most?"
Li Aozi turned his head and glanced at the deserted streets; a few pedestrians hurried by, making the emptiness even more pronounced.
"—Depression." Li Aozi said, "Just like during a financial crisis, you hardly see any aliens crawling around the streets."
"Yes, you understand quite well; this is the truth," Olavir said seriously, "15 years ago, the ’Union Group’ had planned to acquire this city-state, but Kaltz, the leader, rejected the offer."
Olavir sent Li Aozi a file, which began to play a record of Shurgo Campini, a project manager sent by the ’Union Group’ to visit and discuss cooperation.
In just one year, Velazquez, a subsidiary of the ’Union Group,’ sent 45,000 employees and seven leaders to Valenkov; clearly, the acquisition of the rcenary city-state was a must.
"The acquisition was rejected, and within half a year, Valenkov Autonomy began experiencing financial breakdown and shrinking orders. Combined with successive failures in battles and a surge in soldier mortality, from that ti on, the aliens of Valenkov no longer had significant combat powers."
Idle cleaning machines were paralyzed on the streets, corners were piled up with garbage, many shops were closed, only candy stores and pubs run by aliens could still be considered thriving here.
"At that ti, the bereaved families, who had previously been amicable, suddenly ca together. Organized and planned, they demanded compensation from the Supre Corps, coupled with protests in various regions, completely drained the treasury of Valenkov Autonomy."
The protesting signs and banners were thrown into the trash bins; vagrants picked them up and threw them into bonfires. The fire colored his weathered and impoverished face orange, the heat thawed his features; without a word, the vagrant pulled out a dal ribbon from his chest and casually threw it into the flas, silently watching it curl and burn.
"This should be a good thing, right?" Li Aozi asked casually, "Narrative-level civilization should provide quite a sum of money."
"You open a barbecue shop; although small, your craftsmanship is good, and you have a family secret recipe. The custor flow is increasing by the day, booming, I decide to spend a lot of money to acquire it—that tells , do I buy your barbecue shop for your custor flow and secret recipe or for your shop façade worth less than twenty thousand ammonium gold?"
Olavir sneered:
"The ’Union Group’s acquisition, for professional rcenary corps, might be a good thing, but for rcenary city-states, it’s a disaster."
"How so?" Li Aozi asked.
"rcenary city-states can stand because through their effort and accumulation, they have their own business channels and custor networks; these are the Phoenixes that lay eggs—what the ’Union Group’ wants are these. Do you think narrative-level civilizations are after their alien combat power?"
Olavir disdainfully said:
"Apart from C3 Luca Type Aliens, what species is born for combat? War has always been about comprehensive national power. These aliens made their fortune through war and thought they could keep winning; they drop their tools, then their bodies bristle with weapons. Their own food, gear, and ammunition, however, are all bought from others."
"I understand; an army that can’t sustain itself, squeeze its logistics, and it won’t be able to fight anymore," Li Aozi shrugged. "But surely it’s not all that dire, right? Narrative-level civilizations do pay quite a lot of money after all. Just doing a couple of businesses, life shouldn’t be too bad, right?"
"Once acquired, those alien corps would be imdiately dismantled and shelved; the ’Union Group’ would send their trained rcenaries, wearing their shells into battle, tapping into the mastered network, a slow and steady stream."
Olavir scoffed:
"You really expect a narrative-level civilization to be ’civilized’? The more powerful the civilization, the more domineering and thuggish it is. If barbarism ans crudely chopping off your head, then civilization ans skinning and disassembling you, and then saying ’sorry, my hand slipped’."
"But in that case, wouldn’t that leave the aliens of Valenkov unemployed?"
Li Aozi glanced at the storefronts on the street:
"No one here is engaged in production. Clothing stores, restaurants—these are all things aliens could do. I haven’t seen any alien running their own business; however, upon entering the port, I saw combat sequences departing. These aliens, they don’t have the capacity for productive labor, do they?"
"Of course, the aliens of Valenkov now truly lack any real skills. They can only continuously reinforce their propaganda, pretending to be strong and fierce, so employers will continue hiring them, even if they’re already out of ammunition and rations, they must still take their flesh to the battlefield."
Olavir joked:
"Going on like this, perhaps there’s no need for the ’Union Group’ to lift a finger, these aliens might just deplete themselves. If I were Manager Shurgo Campini, I would have to bow to Redd Gold, thank the Supre God for his blessings."
Li Aozi raised an eyebrow in the distorted spaceti:
"I thought you said you don’t joke about deities."
"Ah—"
Olavir coughed and imdiately changed the subject:
"Aliens do not possess the ability to produce, no one knows why, it’s just impossible to teach them. If you are interested, you could investigate it. Let’s not talk about this now, let’s talk about your job."
Olavir wasn’t interested in these aliens and didn’t have a good opinion of them, as they were already in the process of a slow death.
But when it cos to making money, no one complains about having too much.
"Involving Narrative-Level Civilization, the situation can be very complicated. There are many forces involved, including the Clerics from Redd Gold, the managers from Velazquez Corporation, and quite a few ssy small groups. You must understand, a Narrative-Level Civilization has many strong people and not a few followers hanging around with the big brother. So, I will just state it simply, what you need to do."
Olavir thought for a mont and stated simply:
"Kaltz, the leader of the highest corp of Valenkov, he has two sons and a daughter. Soone does not want their family to end, so you need to help them out."
"Rescue them." Li Aozi knew this well, but still deliberately said, "I’m not very good at helping the weak."
"You now go and have that Dark Elf co-worker of yours start the ship, and send his offspring to Firewolf Star in the Titus Nebula, where soone will be responsible for receiving them."
Olavir said:
"You go and kill their father, that would be more rciful."
——————————
[You have triggered the side quest - "Yesterday’s Yesterday, Was Spring"]
[Type]: Investigation/Assassination
[Ti Limit]: 7 natural days
[Mission Difficulty]: A
[Introduction]:
"The children stay, the father goes to die."
Strange orders, strange practices, strange country, strange fate.
You, a loner, because of an accident, got involved in this conflict. In the grand narrative, all narrow familial affections seem both ludicrous and pitiful.
Although the sprouted grass is all cleared, although the smoke from burning blood and fat spreads everywhere, although machines are misused, and indigenous people are expelled, even in such a country, spring is still spring. (Note ①)
A nation on the brink of collapse evokes no sympathy.
People are not born warriors, only stepping forward out of necessity, leaving behind the silhouette of a hero. (Note ②)
Although you have absolutely no sympathy for aliens, this matter has enough benefits for you.
[Settlent Conditions]:
A. "Fire Thieves" - Investigate the situation of "Kaltz Shield’s" offspring and kidnap them;
Reward: Promotion in your lifestyle profession.
B. "Spring of Yesterday" - Assassinate "Kaltz Shield."
Reward: [Class Promotion Voucher]*1
C. "Tomorrow’s Uncertainty" — Wait for tomorrow.
Reward: Random rewards (based on mission assessnt, the higher the assessnt, the better the final reward)
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