People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

In his younger days, as a wandering knight, he traversed thousands of miles, his sword once taking on a million soldiers. Single-handedly, he annihilated an entire traitorous professional knightly order and the Lytanian sorcerers who colluded with them. Such a feat would have been considered truly remarkable even in his father's era, a time of great heroes!

But he didn't care. He didn't care about fame or fortune, opinions, the knighthood that was already within his grasp, or even the opportunity to surpass his brother Snitz.

He was just a free-spirited wanderer, not a knight, and not bound by any restrictions. He only wanted to make a few friends, lead the heroes of the greenwood, and venture into the world called Jianghu, experiencing its ups and downs for a few years!

But he ultimately failed to achieve his goal.

The things he didn't care about eventually caught up with the unbridled golden steed.

The disappearance of his elder brother, his father's serious illness, the rise of the Business Federation, and the decline of the Supervisory Council. A speck of dust from the era gently fell, landing on his horse's back, yet it felt as if he were carrying a high mountain, leaving him with no moment of freedom.

Thus, the chivalrous Marna of the past was hidden away, along with his sword, its edge concealed, gathering dust, and buried in a time known as the past.

He no longer cared about so-called honor, the prestige of the legendary knight family, or his identity as [Nearlight]. He humbled himself, going from standing on two feet to standing on all fours, to shoulder the suffocating burden on his back.

There are many things in his life that he doesn't care about, but there's only one thing he cares about—

"family."

“Mr. Marner, think about your family.”

“Miss Margaret has been exiled by order of the National Assembly for her misconduct, but you still have Miss Maria to take care of, don’t you?”

"Even if you don't consider your own future, you should at least think about Miss Maria's future. What good will Kazimierz's failure do you?"

Marner's gaze was somewhat somber as he stared at the well-dressed spokesperson before him. Charner's remarks sounded like well-intentioned advice, but in essence, the core message boiled down to one sentence:

"Please grant me your permission to represent Kazimir in the battle!"

Will he represent Kazimir?

Marner found it ironic; just hearing that remark made his long-dormant sense of humor twitch, and he almost burst out laughing.

What does Kazimir mean to him? Does he have that unparalleled sense of belonging to this country?

The answer is no; Kazimir is not among the things he cares about. He had long since given up on this land.

Moreover, even if we take a step back and say that I am representing Kazimir in this battle, why is it that the person who came to me was not Kazimir's representative, Russell, but you, the spokesperson for the Business Federation?

Marner knew perfectly well that this was just another power struggle between the Business Federation and the Supervisory Council. He just didn't understand why they had turned their attention to him.

Marner chuckled, his laughter laced with undisguised disdain:

"Mr. Charnet, are you finished?"

"If you've finished speaking, then I should rest. Tomorrow is a workday, and I have to go to work, so I won't keep you any longer."

“Mr. Marner!” Charner stood up, his voice rising several octaves, forcing Marner to stop in his tracks.

He turned his head, and his icy gaze made Charn feel suffocated for a moment.

"If I were you, I would choose to keep my voice down."

"If I wake Maria up, I'll soothe her, but I'll kick you out."

Charné took out a handkerchief and wiped the fine beads of cold sweat from his forehead:

"You still care about your family."

Marner curled her lip:

"Why would you ask such a question? Don't you have any family?"

Charner was stunned, almost unable to react. Such a highly aggressive remark could come from Marna's mouth.

Has the wandering knight within him awakened? Or is it the days of gathering in the mountains and forests and roaming the martial world that made this Lin Guang so different?

Charnard admitted that persuading Marner to participate was indeed more difficult than he had imagined.

By now, he had tried every method of enticement, but Marna didn't care about fame, the glory of Lin Guang, or the honor of the country, and she wasn't even falling for his tried-and-true moral blackmail tactics.

No matter how high he puts Marner, he doesn't care. He has an arrogant and confident air about him, as if he has no morals whatsoever and is afraid of you frantically pressing zeros.

At this point, he had truly exhausted all his options.

Of course, it was through bribery; they had run out of options.

Although it's not a common practice for business associations, they are not without other options.

“Mr. Marner, before you leave, I would like you to take a look at this.”

Charné opened his briefcase, took out a contract, and placed it on the table.

Marna clicked his tongue. He didn't believe Charne's claim that he would leave after watching, but the other person was like a fly that he couldn't just swat away. He kept buzzing in his ear and was really annoying.

Left with no other choice, he could only turn around, walk back to the table, and pick up the contract.

The first page is blank.

The second page is also blank.

The third page, the fourth page... and the last page are all blank.

"Your company's printers aren't very good. You might want to consider our company's products."

Marner put down the contract and looked at Charné.

"If you do me a favor and let me get a bigger cut, I might kick you out without kicking you in the ass."

Charn waved his hand:

“Mr. Marner is joking. Why tarnish your worth with those two money-grubbing things? You and I both know they are just external possessions.”

Marner did not answer.

He was wondering whether to kick in slippers or leather shoes.

Speaking of which, where are my old pair of trendy studded leather shoes? I haven't seen them in ages. Could that brat Margaret have secretly taken them?

He looked at Charne:

"So, you're showing me an empty contract just to highlight the business association's poor performance?"

“Mr. Marner, I must correct you again, I am now representing Kazimir.”

Charnard Road,

"You can write the contents of this contract yourself, as long as you're willing."

"No matter what you write, we will arrange for a professional lawyer to make it seem reasonable and legal in your eyes. How about that?"

"What if I don't write it?"

Marna said.

Charné sighed:

"My task from above is to bring back a pre-written contract. If you're unwilling to write it, then I'll have to write it myself."

"I would write it like this."

He paused:

“Mr. Marner, you have been fired.”

“No company in Kazimir will accept your resume again. This is reasonable and legal, and even the National Assembly will support our demands.”

"And your niece, Miss Margaret, her exile order will never be lifted. The Chamber of Commerce will fight for her in the National Assembly, and I can guarantee that we will oppose any efforts made by the Oversight Council at all costs."

"As for Miss Maria, she will know that she has an uncle who is unwilling to take on important responsibilities and chooses to run away. Of course, this is not a big deal for her. The child has a good character and she will definitely trust your integrity."

"Of course, believing such things always comes at a price. Children this age probably don't have your composure. Faced with peers slandering her family, she might be confused, she might argue back, she might be heartbroken?"

"In this environment, she might grow up to be a strong child, right?"

"Our company does not offer funeral services."

Marna's voice was calm, but Charlene could sense the murderous intent that was already locked onto him.

He swallowed hard, but instead of backing down, he continued:

“Of course you can kill me. I’ve consulted experts, and at this distance, even a sword strike from the Dark Knight wouldn’t be enough to save my life.”

“You can not only kill me, but you can also storm into the Commercial Building Association building, kill several directors, and get rid of a few lackeys like me.”

"But that's no use. You and I both know it's no use."

Charn smiled.

"You can't kill all of Kazimir."

"In the end, we're all trash. It's just that you're top-grade trash, and I'm bottom-grade trash."

"Our end result is nothing more than ending up in the garbage dump, while the order will continue. Whether you integrate into this order or resist it, you will always have to make a choice."

choose?

Can't I just choose to stand by and watch?

I observe the world with detachment, indifferent to right and wrong.

Marner wanted to answer that way. But just this once, Charner found his weakness.

“If you are all alone, I naturally cannot threaten you.”

"But you are not. There are many things you don't care about, but there are still things you do care about."

Charnard said, his expression carefree yet tinged with melancholy.

"But I didn't."

“Mr. Marner, you’re right. I have no family.”

Marna was slightly taken aback, and for a moment she didn't know what to say.

He truly never imagined that one day he would be tricked like this by someone else; the barefoot are not afraid of those wearing shoes.

The household registration book has only one page, and a selfie is considered a family portrait. It's a vicious dog raised by a purely commercial consortium of capital. This is truly an all-round, three-dimensional, and flawless case!

Seeing that Marner had finally withdrawn his murderous intent, Charner let out a long sigh of relief and pushed the contract back to Marner.

“You can take your time to think it over. We have plenty of time, and you can call me anytime. I will come to visit again in seven days.”

After he finished speaking, knowing that Marna wouldn't be in the mood to see him off, he took the initiative to bow and turned to walk towards the entrance.

The sound of the door opening rang out, followed by Charné's voice:

“Mr. Marner, I am the first to do so. But I am afraid I am not the only one who has seen through your weakness, which was not disguised at all.”

"So, as a friendly reminder, after this, you should send your family members abroad."

"Click—Bang!"

The heavy slam of the door rang out, and Marner stood alone in the living room, staring thoughtfully at the contract on the table.

Should we send Maria abroad? Indeed, if Maria remains in Kazimierz, her situation will certainly not be safe.

Margaret is a living example. Just like that damned lackey said, hot-blooded young people can't learn to be patient. Back then, Margaret went against her own strong opposition to participate in the knight competition, won the championship, but what did she gain in the end?

Glory? Money? Or the chivalrous virtues she desired?

All she won were endless killers and a stack of "infected person test reports" signed by Cyril, who had to clean up her mess while she was on her sickbed.

Only by exiling Margaret as an infected person first could her life be saved. This was Cyril's predicament back then.

Even a legendary war hero couldn't protect the Lin Guang family, couldn't protect the children. Could he possibly be stronger than his father?

Marner lacked that confidence. And tonight's events served as a wake-up call for him.

Good fortune won't last forever. Maria's peaceful sleep tonight doesn't mean she'll be safe from danger later. And what if, when she grows up, she wants to follow in her sister's footsteps...?

This is not impossible. Marna saw and remembered Maria's adoration and imitation of Margaret.

If that time really comes, Marna won't even have Cyril's power to arrange Maria's escape before the Business Federation or... the Supervisory Council can make a move.

We really need to plan ahead.

But then again, even if he really wanted to send it, where on this land could he send it?

Colombia? Victoria? Letania? Or further afield, Lungmen?

Either is fine, but neither is suitable.

Marna shook her head, her mind a jumble of thoughts.

After some thought, he opened the contract, took the pen from his chest—the pen that corporate slaves always wore—and wrote a line on the blank paper.