I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 529 Who is the Traitor?
Inside the carriage, the only sounds were the scratching of pens on paper and the subtle rustling of documents being picked up and put down.

Chris was nestled in the high-backed velvet chair, the mahogany folding table in front of him fully unfolded, covered not with maps, but with stacks of files and reports that urgently needed processing.

He was so busy that even on the train to Taiwan, he would find time to review and process documents.

Amidst the subtle sound of a pen gliding across white paper, the door was pushed open, and the clerk, expressionless and still dressed in his usual simple attire, walked in.

He walked to his desk and placed a red document in front of Chris.

"Urgent document, Your Majesty."

Chris didn't stop writing, nor did he even take his eyes off the documents in front of him.

He simply picked up the red-covered urgent document with his free left hand, flicked it open with his fingertips, and quickly glanced at it with the corner of his eye... This action was less like reading and more like verifying the prediction in his mind.

Sure enough, the report detailed the movements of several rebel forces gathered on the island... The remnants of the former dynasty's aristocracy were trying to empty their coffers to purchase weapons and equipment and recruit desperados.

The report listed data on the firearms and ammunition purchased by these rebels, as well as how many fools were misled by their slogans and joined the so-called Minisian Restoration Army, preparing to launch an "uprising" in Treasure City, kill Chris, and restore the rule of the Kingdom of Minisia.

A barely perceptible smile curved his lips, and just as he was about to toss the file back onto the corner of the table, Chris paused, then picked it up again and placed it in front of him.

"kindness!?"

Chris looked at it for a while and then exclaimed in surprise.

"Are there really idiots like this?"

At the end of the document, it was mentioned that about a dozen people, suspected to be members of the King's Guard, were also involved in the rebels and were very active in the operation. They even secretly purchased a hundred matchlock guns from the caravan of the Macon Alliance at their own expense.

They also participated in the training of rebel soldiers, working very hard.

Seeing this, Chris knew that these players weren't some self-funded traitors; they genuinely wanted to participate in this rebellion, trying to kill Chris and overthrow the Kingdom of Bagnia.

"This is really..."

Chris could only shake his head; he had nothing more to say.

From the beginning, he knew that players were a very complex and contradictory group, so Chris tended to side with the players in many things and was unwilling to offend them.

I never expected that even after going to such lengths, there would still be people who wanted to do something like this.

"Write down their names."

The clerk nodded silently, indicating that he had made a note of it.

Chris's gaze returned to the documents he was reviewing, the scratching of his pen becoming the main sound again, as if the urgent intelligence from earlier was just an insignificant interlude.

This is indeed not a big problem. Even if the traitors receive help from these dozen or so players, they will be fine.

The reason is simple: those rebels have too many incompetent teammates. Even if they had a dozen or so godlike players leading them, they couldn't cause much trouble.

Moreover, besides having a bunch of incompetent allies at the top, there are also many traitors within the rebel ranks, either planted by Chris or who themselves defected.

If, under such circumstances, the rebels can still cause trouble and storm up to Chris, then he shouldn't be king at all; he might as well commit suicide and start over.

If he can't even beat such a weak opponent, what's the point of Chris being alive?
He shook his head and tossed the document aside again.

There's no need to worry about such things. If you have time, you'd be better off focusing on the revenge fleet returning from their expedition and the battle situation on Casarina Island.

The former's Storm was badly damaged and nearing the end of its life, while the latter had new enemies appearing on the island, their numbers almost endless, plunging the more than two thousand mercenary players into a fierce battle.

In Chris's view, none of these things were as important as the dozen or so players who were determined to become traitors.

It wasn't that Chris looked down on these dozen or so players; he simply believed in the rebel leaders' ability to drag the team down.

These two seemingly unrelated events are actually crucial to whether the Storm can safely return to Bagnia.

Chris read the chat posts between the Revenge Fleet players and the mercenary players on the forum. The fleet was originally scheduled to stop at Casarina Island on its return voyage for resupply and emergency repairs.

When setting off, the revenge fleet had to avoid the Maconians, but on the return trip, it didn't matter. The Bagnian mercenary force was the main military pillar on the island, so they weren't afraid of the Maconians having any improper thoughts.

If they have the means and the courage to do so, then mercenary players would also dare to take over the island and slaughter all the Macon people on it... After all, they violated the agreement first, so it is only natural for the players to retaliate.

Unfortunately, the appearance of the murloc wave ruined their plans, and the revenge fleet had no choice but to continue bypassing Casarina Island, sending the Storm across the storm belt at the risk of sinking.

Actually, Chris didn't care much about the Storm, because there were already about a dozen such two-thousand-ton, three-masted ships in the shipyard, which would be launched soon.

Furthermore, even larger sail-wrapped bronze battleships are under construction and will be ready to set sail in a little while.

Therefore, even if an experimental battleship like the Storm sinks this time, Chris won't feel sorry for it... Of course, it would be a good thing if it could come back, at least it could bring back valuable navigation data, which could be used to make targeted improvements to the next generation of battleships, making the hull stronger and more durable.

Seeing that Chris had no further instructions, the clerk mechanically bowed to the man before silently leaving the carriage and gently closing the door behind him.

The carriage returned to silence, with only the scratching of pens on paper and the rhythmic rumble of train wheels rolling over the tracks.

……

Inside a secluded, dilapidated apartment in Taiwan.

Night fell over the building that once housed the Minnesota clerks, but now it served as one of the temporary command centers for the "Minnesota Restoration Army".

The apartment was filled with the damp, musty smell and the scent of old wood, occasionally punctuated by the affectedly coquettish shouts of women from the next street and the seemingly hearty laughter of men.

"Ugh……"

Ximen Da Guanren sighed and paced irritably in the living room of his apartment, which was covered with an old carpet. He began to think that something was wrong with him. Why did he join the rebel organization in Treasure Island City?

This so-called Restoration Army is riddled with holes.

But if you ask Master Ximen what the problem is, he can't answer.

After agonizing for a long time, on the day before Chris was to arrive in Taiwan, Simon felt he couldn't wait any longer and had to do something.

So he came to the apartment, intending to see Sir Doron, the nominal leader of the Minisian Restoration Army.

Ximen Da Guanren paced back and forth countless times in that living room, which was filled with the smell of mildew and the cheap perfume and noise wafting from the brothel next door. He almost wore a mark out of the old carpet.

Just as Simon was about to turn away, his patience almost exhausted, the apartment's rather flimsy, peeling door was pushed open.

It was not Sir Dorron himself who entered, but a young servant dressed in an ill-fitting old suit, with a pale face. He first glanced warily at Sir Simon, then stepped aside and bowed slightly.

Then, a figure strolled in unhurriedly.

He was a middle-aged man, still possessing the upright and broad stature of a knight, with a resolute face. He wore a double-breasted coat that resembled a military uniform, with its buttons polished to a shine.

Seeing Sir Doron, Simon felt a little more at ease. He quickly stepped forward, disregarding formalities, and said urgently in a low voice.

“Sir, we have a problem within our ranks. I suspect there’s a mole!” Sir Doron looked at him calmly with his grey eyes, not responding immediately, but simply gesturing for the pale-faced servant to leave.

The servant bowed silently, left the living room, and gently closed the door, slightly isolating himself from the noise of the neighboring street.

"Your Excellency Ximen,"

Duolong's voice was deep and steady, with the unquestionable quality unique to soldiers, but if you listened carefully, you could detect a trace of deliberately suppressed fatigue.

"Don't panic. Tell me slowly, what did you discover?"

"The batch of weapons and equipment that arrived a few days ago has most likely been discovered. My men saw several unfamiliar faces wandering aimlessly near the storage point. They must be the tyrant's lackeys."

"This is not strange at all."

Sir Doron remained unhurried, his tone carrying the composure of a soldier.

"Because this batch of goods was purchased from a local gang."

Upon hearing this, Simon paused for a moment, then tentatively uttered a name.

"Rex?"

"Correct."

Simon's brows furrowed immediately.

He knew this player, although they had never met. However, the latter was quite well-known among players... This guy cheated, swindled, and stole in Treasure Island City, targeting not only NPCs but also players.

So much so that this guy hides in his dark ditch all day long, not daring to leave the island, because if he leaves his lair, a large group of players he tricked will come looking for revenge at any time.

The Restoration Army is looking to buy weapons and equipment from him; this guy will definitely sell people out.

"This person is unreliable. Why would we buy weapons and equipment from him?"

“I know, but this is not something I can decide.”

Sir Doron nodded.

“The person who provided the money was Earl Lawrence. Besides, I am also very clear about the problems with this matter, so I do not intend to use that batch of weapons and equipment. They are just bait.”

Upon hearing this, Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

It's alright; the organization's nominal leader isn't an idiot, he still has some sense.

"Lord Simon, how are the soldiers you trained doing now?"

Sir Doron then shifted the conversation away from the frustrating issue of internal spies and towards something more practical.

Ximen Da Guanren's spirits lifted slightly; this was one of the few things he could still control and feel a sense of accomplishment about.

"The progress is faster than expected, Sir. You gave me a few dozen young men who are physically fit and, most importantly, willing to work hard. They have already mastered the basic operation and array of the matchlock gun. Although their accuracy is still far from perfect, at least they won't be firing blindfolded anymore."

Close-quarters combat training is also being intensified, and they should be able to hold their own against ordinary city defense soldiers.

He paused, his tone carrying a hint of the pride unique to gamers.

"My brothers and I used some more efficient training methods, and the results were good."

At this point, Simon couldn't help but ask.

"Sir, when shall we make our move?"

"I do not know."

Sir Doron spread his hands, and his answer stunned Simon.

What do you mean?
"Literally, although I am the nominal commander of the Restoration Army, there are many things I cannot control, such as Earl Lawrence, and operations..."

Tomorrow morning, when Chris's car enters Taiwan and travels along Triumph Avenue, there will be an assassination attempt. However, this should just be a smokescreen, because the assassins involved are just thugs temporarily hired from Taiwan. I don't think they have the courage to do such a thing.

Who proposed the action?

"Earl Lawrence".

Sir Doron's answer caused Simon's pupils to shrink slightly, and he subconsciously began to have doubts.

"Earl Lawrence?"

He thought for a moment, then cautiously asked in a low voice.

"Sir, don't you find this a bit suspicious?"

Something seemed to flicker deep within Sir Doron's grey eyes, but the light vanished in an instant, too fast to be caught.

“Earl Lawrence is a traditional Miniserian nobleman. Lord Simon, it is unlikely that he would betray the Kingdom of Minicia.”

"Unlikely?"

Ximen Da Guanren frowned, completely unable to comprehend this aristocratic way of thinking.

Why is it unlikely?

Sir Doron slowly turned around, his face sharply defined in the dim light, the vertical line between his brows appearing even more pronounced.

"The Lawrence family has been loyal to the kingdom for generations, and all their honor and wealth come from it. The fall of the kingdom is absolutely unacceptable to this family."

Therefore, the Earl contributed greatly to the establishment of the Restoration Army; even my becoming its leader was his suggestion.

Simon didn't speak; he just frowned even more.

Sir Doron walked over at that moment and patted him on the shoulder.

"That's enough, Lord Simon. An uprising is not something that can be accomplished in one go. You should preserve your health."

After saying that, the jazz left, leaving behind a pensive Simon.

"Preserve your useful body..."

He pondered the sentence repeatedly, recalling Sir Doron's expressions and actions from beginning to end.

Sir Doron, the nominal military leader of the Restoration Army, probably never thought that this hasty uprising could succeed.

(End of this chapter)