I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 533: A Roadside

Chris paid some attention to the internal workings of the Minnesota Restoration Army, but he didn't take it to heart.

As the head of state, Chris's most important task is to handle national affairs, not to get down and stare at a bunch of traitors and pay attention to their ridiculous conspiracies.

No need. Everyone has their own expertise. This kind of thing can be left to professionals. That's what the court and the intelligence agency do. If Chris had to do everything himself, he'd be exhausted.

Therefore, after arriving in Taiwan and moving into a temporary palace converted from the old Minisian palace, Chris put the matter aside for the time being and devoted himself to the mountain of political affairs.

As a newly incorporated territory, Taiwan was in dire need of development, and there were countless documents requiring his approval.

From the detailed implementation rules of the new tax law to the port expansion plan, from appeasing the old Minisian nobles to introducing the Bagnian administrative system, every single thing is related to the stability and development of this land.

As for the very few players in the rebel group...

Sigh, it's like the sky wants to rain, and a mother wants to remarry; let them do whatever they want. There are over 50,000 players in the Kingdom of Bagnia now. With so many people, how come there aren't many oddballs? Do you think this is a single-player game?

Chris had already marked these players in the system, preventing them from getting close to him. If they did, an alarm would be triggered. Under such circumstances, they still managed to kill him, so Chris accepted it.

Since you've enjoyed the benefits brought by the players, you should also bear the drawbacks.

Moreover, other players cannot accept such a thing. It is said that some people have already taken the initiative to look for them and prepare to kill them until they quit the game.

So Chris shifted his attention elsewhere.

First, there's the auditing issue in Treasure Island City. Because its bureaucracy is far from the kingdom's political hub and is a newly occupied territory, problems are bound to arise.

However, these problems are nothing more than a few fat parasites in the treasury, not a big problem... As long as it's not something that can be resolved by eliminating the people involved, it's all a minor issue.

Chris is currently more concerned about major issues overseas than the minor problems in Taiwan.

First, the player's expeditionary revenge fleet has returned, and the Storm has not sunk.

Although the Storm was further damaged while crossing the storm belt, leaving it covered in wounds, the shipyard's master craftsman determined that its keel had suffered irreversible damage in the previous magical vortex and storm belt.

Well, the Storm is beyond saving. The damaged keel means it can no longer set sail. It can only be moored in port and dismantled, or used as a training ship for cadets.

The keel is the backbone and soul of a ship.

It runs through the bow and stern of the ship, bearing the structural weight of the entire vessel and the impact of giant waves and wind pressure during navigation. In the previous magical vortex, the keel of the Storm had already endured torsional stress beyond its design limits, resulting in microscopic cracks that were barely visible to the naked eye and fatigue damage to the internal structure.

The final journey across the storm belt became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

Even if the hull is repaired, there is a high probability that the Storm will sink as soon as it fires its cannons if it sets sail again... It really will sink, I'm not kidding.

Chris pondered for a moment, then picked up his pen to review the Storm... He ordered it to remain in Omdour port for repairs, and then serve as a naval cadet ship.

Secondly, the revenge fleet returned, bringing back not only the damaged Storm, which was unable to sail, but also many other valuable items.

For example, elves, half-elves!

The Kingdom of Bagnia does not support the slave trade, but Chris also knows that such a mere obstacle as the law cannot stop the players.

So Chris didn't intend to do anything to spoil the mood... If someone's in the mood, why would you pour cold water on it? How pathetic is that?

Elves aren't human, so they don't have human rights.

Not only that, Chris also remembered something.

"Secretary."

"I am here, Your Majesty."

The clerk stepped out from the corner of the study.

"What's the progress on that Elf language pack project I had someone work on before?"

"With the cooperation of the female elf Kantis, it has been completed."

"Update the client without disconnecting and upload the language pack."

"Yes."

After dealing with this minor matter, Chris continued to check on what was to come.

Next came the application from the Macon Union, who were applying to hire a third batch of mercenaries.

Not long ago, Casarina Island was attacked again, with newly emerged merfolk launching a fish swarm attack that was even more ferocious than that of the snake people.

Because of the First Fleet's forced visit, the Macon Alliance developed some reservations about the Kingdom of Bagnia. As a result, the third batch of mercenaries, which should have set off much earlier, has not been hired by the Macon Alliance, leaving only two thousand players on the island.

Two thousand players would have been enough to fight the snake-hunters, since they were already half-crippled. In addition, the Macon Alliance managed to pull an infantry regiment from the battlefield to the island, so there was plenty of manpower.

As a result, the situation changed dramatically after the arrival of the fishmen.

The endless stream of murlocs overwhelmed the Macon Alliance's dock defenses, destroying all the shipyards and bringing the commercial transit station to a standstill, causing huge economic losses to the Macon Alliance.

Immediately, the Macon Alliance could no longer contain itself and, disregarding its fear of the Kingdom of Bagnia, shamelessly approached them to recruit a third batch of mercenaries.

"Sigh, if only I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have done it in the first place."

Chris shook his head, picked up his pen and made comments on the document, indicating to Commerce Secretary Lynch that he should take another hard line against the Macon Union... Normally you don't pray to Buddha when there's nothing urgent, but now that things are urgent, don't blame me for raising my price.

His pen moved across the paper, carrying a hint of cold calculation.

Since the Macon Union needs their help, Bagnia naturally has no reason not to seize the opportunity to maximize its benefits.

Increase wages?
That is inevitable.

Perhaps we could also demand a permanent supply point and garrison rights on Casarina Island, free from the jurisdiction of the Macon Union.
After all, to help them fight, they need a stable rear base.

As for whether the Macon Alliance would agree... Chris's lips curled up slightly as he looked at the almost boundless surging of merfolk described in the island's battle reports. He was confident that the Maconians would eventually bow down.

If they don't agree, let the fishmen slaughter the island, and then we'll take it back.

By then, Casarina Island will be part of the Kingdom of Bagnia.

When the Revenge Fleet set sail, Chris had thought about establishing a supply base outside the storm belt. However, he secretly sent several ships to search outside the storm belt and found many islands, but none of them were suitable as supply points.

Either the area is too small and lacks fresh water,
Either the terrain is too rugged to build a port.

Either it is too far from the main shipping routes, thus limiting its strategic value.

Casarina Island, with its strategic location and decent resources, and the fact that the Maconians had already built basic port facilities, was practically a springboard tailor-made for Bagnia.

……

The air in Omdour port is always a mixture of the salty smell of the sea, the stench of fish, the burnt tar, and the exotic spices brought by ocean-going cargo ships.

At this moment, this familiar scent was now accompanied by a faint, peculiar, cool fragrance unique to elves.

On one side of the dock, the Storm, battered and bruised as if gnawed by a giant beast, rests silently in its dedicated maintenance berth. The massive hull is tilted, revealing marine life clinging to the waterline and jagged, mangled damage.

Groups of boatmen busied themselves on the scaffolding and deck like ants, the sounds of hammering, sawing, and shouting filling the air.

On a slightly more distant dock, a group of weary, mixed-dressed but sharp-eyed players sat together, counting the "loot" unloaded from the Storm.

Several cages covered with rough linen were placed in the center, from which faint, suppressed sobs and strangely rhythmic whispers could be heard... Inside were the captured, most beautiful female elves.

"Damn it, I can't understand a word of this gibberish."

A player with the ID "Berserker Axe" picked at his ear and kicked the cage in frustration.

"She's quite good-looking, but we can't communicate with her, so how do we sell her... uh, how do we arrange things?"

The man, with a knife stuck in his buttocks, was frowning, also thinking about this problem.

Communication barriers are the biggest challenge in dealing with these elf captives. Without communication, it's difficult to assess their value, let alone dig deeper for information. Not knowing their skills and abilities makes communication even more difficult, leaving players with a treasure trove of knowledge but unable to access it.

At that moment, almost without warning, a line of nearly invisible system notification text flashed across the edge of every online player's vision, accompanied by an extremely faint notification sound, like a drop of water falling into a clear spring.

System: A new language resource pack - "Common Elvish Language (Basic)" & "Fragments of Ancient Elvish Language" - has been detected and automatically loaded and updated. Enjoy the game!
The update was eerily quiet, completely lacking the dazzling visual effects and server-wide announcements typical of other large-scale online games' updates.

Xiao Dao paused for a moment after stabbing his buttocks, then blinked instinctively to make sure he hadn't misread it.

He tentatively turned on the translation function, clicked on the newly appeared Elvish language, and then turned his gaze back to the cage containing a mature silver-haired Elvish woman.

The mature elven woman was softly comforting a trembling elven girl beside her in a language they couldn't understand at all; her voice was clear and cool, yet possessed a natural rhythm.

At this moment, what reached Xiaodaozai's ears was no longer meaningless syllables, but clearly discernible words, carrying a hint of trembling and despair.

"...Don't be afraid, Ella, the forest will protect us, the World Tree will not abandon us...These short-lived species cannot understand our value, perhaps..."

The man who had stabbed his butt with a knife burst out laughing.

"...Perhaps we just see you as talking livestock."

The sound of the knife stabbing her buttocks wasn't loud, but it was like a thunderclap, clearly reaching the ears of the silver-haired elven woman amidst the noisy dock.

She suddenly raised her head, her pale purple eyes, like lakes containing stars, widened instantly, filled with disbelief and shock, and a hint of panic at having her secret exposed.

The elven woman's fluent words of comfort came to an abrupt halt, as if she had been choked. She stared intently at the knife stabbing her buttocks, as if seeing this short-lived creature, which she considered vulgar and unbearable, for the first time.

The surrounding players were also stunned, and all looked at Xiao Daozai's butt.

"Holy crap, Dao-ge, when did you learn Elvish?"

The players were completely bewildered.

"It's not that I've learned it."

The man pointed to his ear, then to the sky, and then to his buttocks.

"It's because the system just updated the language pack; we can understand what they're saying now!"

The players were immediately in an uproar, checking their system interfaces one after another. After confirming the situation, their gazes changed when they looked at the elves in the cages.

The gaze that was once directed at pretty decorations or troublesome goods has now turned into one of inquiry, evaluation, and even ill-intentioned scrutiny.

Being able to communicate means being able to negotiate, interrogate, and... uncover more value.

The silver-haired elven woman was clearly aware of the dramatic change in the situation.

The arrogance and despair on her face faded somewhat, replaced by a deep sense of wariness and vigilance. She shielded the elven girl named Ella behind her, straightened her back, and tried to maintain a certain composure despite being in a cage.

"Who...are you?"

She asked in Elvish, her voice trembling slightly but trying to remain calm, her gaze sweeping sharply over Knife Stab's Butt and the other players.

Xiao Dao didn't answer immediately; he looked at the other person with great interest.

Even in these circumstances, this elf still possesses an undeniable aura, suggesting that he holds a high position in elven society.

"It doesn't matter who we are."

"Little Knife Stabs Butt," he replied in his newly mastered, still somewhat halting Elvish, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

The important thing is, you're now meat on our chopping block. Tell me, besides being good-looking, what value do you have that makes us want to spare your lives?

He deliberately used the word "value," which carries a nakedly utilitarian connotation.

The silver-haired elf's face paled, and her lips tightened.

She understood that although a bridge of communication had been built, their situation had not improved, and might even have gotten worse.

The mature elven woman took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady, even adding a touch of her self-righteous intimidation.

"We are members of the Galadriel family of the Blue Flame Kingdom. I am Lylandra Galadriel. Kidnapping and imprisoning a high elf noble is a serious provocation against the entire Blue Flame Kingdom and all elven races!"

Our people will not stand idly by. If you release us now and repent for this blasphemy, perhaps you can avert a war and calamity that will engulf your entire race!

Her words carried the aria characteristic of Elvish, attempting to create an atmosphere of solemnity and terror. She stared intently at the knife stabbing into her buttocks, hoping to see fear or at least hesitation on the other person's face.

However, what she was met with was a sudden burst of unrestrained laughter.

"Hahahahaha..."

"War? Catastrophe? Hahahaha..."

"What did she say? The entire race? My god, who wrote this NPC's dialogue? It's so cringeworthy!"

The players were laughing so hard they were doubled over, some pounding their companions' shoulders, and some even wiping away tears of laughter in an exaggerated way.

Berserker Axe laughed as he pointed at Lilandra.

"Hey, Miss, don't you understand the situation yet?"

Another player with the ID "Professional Gua Sha" responded sarcastically.

"Exactly! War is the last thing we're afraid of. We'd be happy if there were no war!"

Even with the knife stuck in his buttocks, he couldn't help but chuckle. He shook his head and spoke in Elvish with a smile to Lilandra, whose face had turned from white to green and whose body was trembling slightly.

“My esteemed Lady Galadriel, I believe you have misunderstood a few things.”

He held out a finger.

“First of all, this is not your elf territory, it is the Kingdom of Bagnia, and our rules apply here.”

He raised his second finger.

"Secondly, threats are useless against us because we have already started fighting, and you were the ones who started the trouble. This is our retaliation."

He paused, his smile fading, his eyes becoming sharp and realistic.

"Third, and most importantly... Now you are in our hands. War is a matter for the future, too far away. Let's be realistic and talk about yourselves. Right now, at this moment, what value do you have that makes us treat you well without resorting to violence?"
For example... what special skills do you possess? Do you know how to create magical items for elves? Do you know any treasures or secrets? Or..."

His gaze swept over Lilandra and the elven captives behind her, with an undisguised assessment.

"...can it fetch a particularly high price in certain specific markets?"

Lilandra was so enraged by these blatant, utilitarian, and contemptuous words that she almost fainted.

As a high elf noble, how could she have ever suffered such a humiliation?
These short-lived species not only show no respect for them, but even treat them as commodities that can be valued and sold at will!
"You...you barbaric, ignorant, blasphemous maggots!"

She shrieked, her once elegant voice distorted with anger.

"The curse of the World Tree will surely befall you, and your souls will be condemned for eternity..."

"Alright, alright, we'll talk about curses later."

Xiao Dao stabbed her in the butt impatiently and interrupted her, shrugging at the other players.

"It seems this young lady hasn't learned how to talk to creditors yet. Let's keep them separated for a few days and wait until they're more clear-headed and willing to talk about value."

The players responded with laughter and began to separate and lead the elven captives away. Lilandra's futile scolding and threats were drowned out by the players' noisy discussions and the usual clamor of the dock, appearing utterly pale and ridiculous.

The arrogance of the elf could not withstand the cruelty of reality. Just like the so-called goddess, she has sycophants who fawn over her. If no man cares about her, she is not even as good as a female loser... At least a female loser has self-awareness and will go to work in a factory to support herself.

(End of this chapter)