This Game Is Too Real-Chapter 753: Chaos at Jinjaron Harbor

Jin Jialun Port.

The security bureau of the port area faced the busiest street of Jin Jialun Port, bustling with people coming and going.

Governor Nikhak stood on the street, gazing blankly at the unfamiliar, spacious street, his eyes filled with confusion, momentarily unable to recognize where he was.

The streets were clean and tidy, houses painted white, and black street lamps stood tall, everything seemed just like before.

Yet, different from the past was the roaring noise that filled the air, with people bustling through and some jugglers riding bicycles with two or three wheels swiftly maneuvering through the streets.

This place bore little resemblance to the dignified and elegant Tulip Street but rather resembled the chaotic Klaba Market.

Indeed.

Everything here was in utter disarray.

"You are free now."

Someone said from behind him, the voice slightly cold, even carrying a hint of mockery.

"Thank you..."

Nikhak replied subconsciously, and then realized that it wasn’t what he should have said.

He glared fiercely at the jail guard, shook his sleeve, and stepped onto the street, but because he was looking backward, he collided with a child holding a large stack of paper.

"Hey! Watch where you’re going, old man!" the child yelled indignantly, but didn’t linger to argue.

Time is money, and with the time spent talking nonsense, he could have made a few more trips and earned a few more Gallons.

However, Nikhak was not about to let it go, his face flushed with anger, he reached out to grab the little rascal by the neck.

"What did you call me... Do you know who I am!"

"I don’t care who you are, you’re not one of those Iron Men!" The child skillfully dodged his grasp, grinning cheekily and even made a face at him before walking away.

Seeing the child’s insolence, Nikhak was so infuriated that he wanted to chase after him and teach him a lesson, but felt it beneath him to stoop to violence. As the child vanished into the distance, he could only curse twice and stomp in frustration.

"What a street mongrel, utterly ill-mannered!"

From the looks of it, though the child’s clothes were old, they were fairly neat, probably belonging to some destitute noble family. The sleeves were patched, showing a lack of dignity; this family must be living a hard life, the father surely a laborer, the mother probably had to sell herself, and they might even have to eat dirt.

Imagining the pitiable and humble life of that child, Nikhak felt a bit more at ease, as if he had won.

Yet soon, he realized something was amiss.

Not just the child, not just one or two, but everyone on the street was wearing clothes.

Even the laborers doing heavy work wore cheap coarse linen shirts and pale blue canvas trousers.

And those riding bicycles were even more dressed up, mostly wearing cotton short-sleeved shirts and trousers, their waists cinched with leather belts.

Not just men, but women too, which shocked him the most.

Although the poor of Jin Jialun Port were notoriously undisciplined in dress, wearing anything and calling a curtain wrapped around the waist a skirt, there were unspoken rules formed over 200 years about who could wear trousers, who couldn’t, and what to wear on what occasion.

He initially thought the child was from some impoverished noble family since most of the destitute in the slums only had rags, and even if they had clothes, they wouldn’t spare them for children.

But now, it seemed his understanding had some deviations.

Only now did he realize that the street had too many "nobles" who could afford clothes.

Is this Jin Jialun Port?

Nikhak was utterly confounded, his eyes wide.

And at that moment, the noisy voices and the clamorous information also poured into his ears, the endless buzzing sounds made his head feel like it was going to explode.

"Selling newspapers, hot off the press! Must-eat delicacies of Jin Jialun Port listed inside, with fresh news from the Wasteland!"

"Old-style flatbreads! Delicious flatbreads! And freshly baked big meat buns!"

"Where are you going, boss? Only one Gallon for a mile!"

"I pedal fast! Take my bike, boss!"

"I heard the Expeditionary Army won a hard battle, though it’s a pyrrhic victory with over 10,000 dead!"

"Shh..."

"That’s fake, right? There were only 30,000 in total."

"Hey, no disrespect, but if you said a hundred died and they won, I’d believe it, but ten thousand dead and still winning, I would never believe!"

"What book is that?"

"Mechanical Principles, Math, Geometry... and some other miscellaneous stuff, scavenged from the port area, heard they were second-hand books swapped out from Dawn City."

"Why are you reading this stuff?"

"Another skill means another way forward, can’t spend a lifetime here, right?"

"That’s not so bad, is it? The Emperor and his Governor have already been chased out."

"It’s quite good, but the Alliance and Empire have ceased fire, who knows if they might come back."

People chattered loudly, talking, peddling, haggling, turning what was once a quiet street into a complete mess.

Nikhak didn’t know what they were so happy about, nor did he understand what was good about this chaotic scene.

In his time, if the lower classes dared to appear on this street without a valid reason, his officers would brutally beat them with batons. And for those girls wearing trousers, they would confiscate the trousers and send them away, or depending on their mood, detain them for a few days until their family came to fetch them.

He thought that the Alliance’s absurd behavior would ruin this place, and indeed it had, turning it chaotic in just a few months.

Yet, to his dismay, those who had suffered enough did not cheer for his return, and even forgot his face.

It wasn’t just those lower-class people, even the nobles who used to crowd around him didn’t come forward to welcome him, no idea what they were busy with.

A period of utter disarray had arrived, people scurrying about the streets like headless flies, lost in the sugar-coated bombs brought by the Alliance.

Everything seemed to be just his wishful thinking—he thought he was important, that without him, people here couldn’t survive, hence the Alliance had hastily released him.

In fact, without him, people seemed to be doing better.

Facing everything unfamiliar, a feeling of helplessness suddenly arose in his heart.

At that moment, a probing greeting came from behind him.

"Mr. Nihak?"

Reacting instinctively to the name, Nihak turned around and saw a man in a leather jacket looking at him.

He did not recognize this fellow, but the man clearly recognized him. As soon as he saw Nihak’s face, he showed a delighted expression and happily walked over.

"It really is you! I am Aksh, servant of Mr. Isel."

This guy had grown fatter than in his portrait; his neck was almost gone, almost making him unrecognizable.

"Isel?" Nihak was puzzled, clearly unfamiliar with the name.

Yet, the man, undeterred by his expression, continued enthusiastically.

"A noble person like you surely wouldn’t remember my master; he is merely a baron who deals with people like me all day. However, my master always remembers you. At the coming-of-age ceremony held by His Majesty for the Fourth Prince two years ago, he met you. He always tells us that it was after meeting Governor Nihak that he understood what true nobility was like."

Two years ago, the coming-of-age ceremony held by His Majesty for the Fourth prince...

Governor Nihak certainly remembered the Fourth Prince; he remembered everyone close to His Majesty, but who he had met at some prince’s ceremony and with whom he had drunk, how could he possibly remember such details?

All he remembered was waking up the next morning in the bed of a countess. As for any baron, such a person didn’t even qualify to shake his hand at that kind of event.

Nonetheless, although he thoroughly despised the name, Governor Nihak felt a warmth in his heart.

Those who usually groveled at his shoes hadn’t come to visit him; in the end, it was someone he had only met once two years ago who still remembered him.

The only downside was, why had this fellow not come himself, instead sending a mere servant to greet him?

Seeing the displeasure on his face, the man called Aksh said with a smile,

"My master wanted to come and fetch you himself, but regrettably, he’s bound by military orders and couldn’t leave the front lines, so he sent me to greet you."

"Military orders? What military orders?" Nihak said, puzzled about the outside affairs.

Aksh replied with a smile,

"It’s the Expeditionary Army, now the entire Wasteland... including Poluo Province which isn’t really a wasteland at all, has nothing more important than the war against the enemies of humanity. It’s not just us; Armies, corporations, academies, all have sent troops."

Nihak nodded, pretending to understand, but in reality, he didn’t get it at all.

What are these enemies of humanity?

When did the Empire get a new enemy?

Knowing that it wasn’t something that could be explained in just a few words, Aksh smoothly continued,

"It’s a complex matter, not something I can explain in just a moment. My master has prepared a banquet at Triumph Hotel to refresh you after your journey. Please come with me to the hotel suite, and I’ll explain everything there."

"That would be appreciated," Nihak looked around, and seeing no one else there to receive him, accepted his kindness and followed the servant of Isel.

The two of them boarded a tricycle, or more accurately, a tricycle pulling a covered cart.

At the other end of the street, a Rat Clan young man dressed impeccably was watching the prison entrance indifferently.

Only when the tricycle disappeared at the end of the street, did he softly say,

"Kunar, my friend, do you remember that fellow?"

The Dog Tribe young man next to him nodded, grunting,

"Of course, he is the lord of the Governor’s Mansion."

Ah Xin spoke slowly,

"That was a long time ago. Now he’s like a rat crawling out of the sewer, scared by people on the street; timid, humble, fierce on the outside but weak inside... tsk tsk."

He gently shook his head, not concealing the disdain and mockery in his eyes.

The fellow was much like his former self. If that man’s clothes were stripped off and he were thrown into the street, he might not behave any more composedly than he once did.

This is the nobility of the Empire.

There aren’t any Sun People, Cow People, or Elephant Tribe here, only different breeds of rats.

Kunar muttered, "I don’t understand why the Alliance doesn’t simply kill them."

Isn’t it better to become the Emperor themselves?

So complicated.

They only needed to advance one step further west to take the City of Thousand Pillars. With just one more pillar, they could reign as Iron Men over this land, becoming the 1001st deity of this land.

"You’re right not to understand; that’s something I can’t figure out either, but my intuition tells me that’s one of the reasons the Alliance hasn’t killed them."

He glanced at his friend and briefly said that, then ended the fruitless conversation.

What a pity.

He had planned to invite that destitute lord to a meal, perhaps then he could establish a connection to Tiandu and expand his business at Banana Head Bay, but it seemed he was a step too slow, and someone else had set their sights on him first.

But it didn’t matter anymore; it was unlikely that the lord would enjoy a drink and chat with a Rat Clan person like himself, especially after seeing his abject behavior, and he suddenly lost interest.

Especially thinking that this vast Empire was run by such creatures made him feel ashamed and unable to stand straight.

Maybe it was time to replace these people, a thought suddenly popped into his head.

Once the idea came forth, it fermented endlessly in his mind.

Of course, he never thought about becoming the Emperor himself, as being an Emperor was probably not as comfortable as his life now.

He had heard there was a group of Moon Clan rebels in the northern forests.

Perhaps he could invest in these people.

For instance, using his connections among the Military Factions, he could send them some equipment, arrange for some people to go to the City of Dawn to study.

Operating it was quite easy for him, actually. Through the inn known as The Forsaken Town, he even got in touch with the heads of the Tiger army and the Black Panther Army. At least half of the resources produced by the various estates and mines in the eastern region were sold to Jin Jialun Port through his shadow port.

Though the risk involved was high, what if the Moon Clan succeeded?

The return on investing in a new dynasty would be far greater than investing in a decrepit Old Aristocrat...

...

At this moment, Governor Ni Hack had no idea that a young man from the Rat Clan was contemplating some terribly seditious things behind his back.

Having arrived at the Triumph Hotel with Aksh, he was completely stunned by the table full of delicacies in front of him.

Compared to the dazzling array of delicacies, the box meals he had in prison were absolutely swill!

Looking at the former governor gorge himself, Aksh was about to offer some comfort about the hardships endured in prison but held his tongue after seeing his chubby neck.

Clearly, the alliance hadn’t starved him; just a few months had nearly fattened him up like a pig, prestigious veins now likely flowing with fat.

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Aksh stood beside him, respectfully recounting the events of this period, especially highlighting General Babita’s foolish performance on the northern front and the hardships his lord faced dealing with bugs on the southern front.

After a satisfying meal, Ni Hack, wiping his mouth with a napkin, grimaced at the mention of eating bugs and abruptly cut off Aksh.

"Enough already, I get the situation, this is easy to handle. I’ll speak well of you to His Majesty and swap that Baron Babita to the south, moving your master to the north."

He figured those nobles weren’t of much importance to His Majesty anyway.

After all, barons serving as Ten Thousand Leaders... that army probably didn’t even have a few professional soldiers, at best just a bunch of serfs; a hundred of them together wouldn’t match a single regular army soldier.

Moving a few barons was just a matter of talking for him.

Hearing this, Aksh nearly choked on his spit and hurriedly said,

"Sir, that won’t do... If we move to the north, won’t we just... just be taking the fall for General Babita? All the hardships we suffered in the south would be in vain!"

"You have a point," Ni Hack belched lazily and said, "Well, I can’t be bothered to think about this little issue anymore. You all propose the terms. If it’s reasonable, I’ll help."

Hearing this, Aksh immediately brightened up, leaned in, and whispered in his ear.

"...We don’t ask for much, just that His Majesty splits the Expeditionary Army into the Southern and Northern Army to facilitate command and control at the front, since the south and north fronts are too far apart and there’s interference along the way, even sending a telegram requires two transfers."

"Fine, I’ll help with that." Ni Hack easily agreed to the request.

Aksh was also keen on seizing opportunities. He gave a signal to a servant nearby and immediately brought a briefcase over, gently placing it on the chair next to the table.

"This is a small gesture from my lord... also an apology since he couldn’t visit you in person, please accept it."

Ni Hack reached out his greasy hand to open the briefcase and was startled by the stack of shimmering Paper Money.

Dinars!

These special anti-counterfeit Paper Money could be exchanged for an equal amount of Dinars in Triumph City.

Although this currency only circulated on the western edge of the Central Continent, merchant ships from Weilante People regularly visited the western coast of Poluo Province, and those Weilante merchants recognized it, at most taking a 10% to 5% discount depending on the situation.

He roughly counted, and this briefcase of Paper Money amounted to at least 500 thousand Dinars.

The equivalent of 500 robust slaves!

"It seems your lord is doing well," Ni Hack squinted his eyes, looking at Aksh half jokingly.

While he wasn’t concerned about the money, the fact that even a mere baron could produce half a million Dinars did surprise him.

Aksh made a rueful smile and sighed lightly.

"I must be honest with you, this is all of my lord’s savings. But if he cannot return safely, no amount of money would be of use... right?"

"Heh."

Ni Hack laughed dismissively, unimpressed by his words but accepted the briefcase.

"Indeed, Isel was it? I’ll remember your lord’s name. By the way... how do we get back to Tiandu from here?"

Aksh quickly responded.

"Rest assured, sir, we wouldn’t let you travel alone. We have already arranged a ship at the port. It will safely transport you to West Sail Port, which is Weilante territory. We’ve arranged a carriage there to take you to Tiandu."

Hearing this, Ni Hack finally relaxed all his concerns and worries, nodding with satisfaction.

"Efficient."

Aksh’s face was brimming with smiles as he politely replied.

"As long as you’re pleased."

Meanwhile, at the Jin Jialun Port, a cargo ship flying the White bear flag was moored by the dock.

The cargo hold of this freighter was filled with tinned herring and distilled spirits produced by Jin Galun.

Both items were favorites among the lower and middle-ranking officers and soldiers of the Army.

Although the distilled spirits from Jin Galun couldn’t compare to those produced in City of Dawn and Dawn City in terms of craftsmanship, taste, or prestige, most of the devices used here were discarded by those cities, so the quality difference wasn’t too significant.

Electronic pass had been implemented for a while now, making travel to Army territories not as deadly as before, as long as one didn’t recklessly roam about.

Tail planned to visit "Western Port" controlled by the Army to see what it looked like. Sesame Paste and Meat Meat were also curious about the place, and Si Si was indifferent to destinations, so the three men and one bear quickly agreed on their next journey’s destination.

Leaning on the mast, Meat Meat yawned and muttered with a look of utter boredom.

"When are we going to depart?"

Standing on the deck, Si Si glanced at the checklist in hand, rubbing his chin with his index finger.

"There’s one more guest... um, I just realized, this guy seems to be someone we know."

Ni Hack.

Someone with the same name in this port was unlikely.

Realizing this, Si Si’s expression gradually became intriguing.

"Oh! Is it that fur trader?" Tail curiously came over.

"Selling furs? No, that’s not it... How do you even remember that guy? I almost forgot his name," Si Si said, looking helpless.

With a teasing expression, Tail mischievously poked her waist with his index finger.

"True to your nature, Si, a heartless woman!"

Meat Meat looked over with a shocked expression, and Sesame Paste also perked up her cat ears curiously.

"What’s going on?"

"Could it be that other stories happened behind our backs...?"

Facing those gossip-hungry eyes, Si Si managed a half-hearted laugh and said, "What nonsense... We only met a few times."

Speaking of which, their journey had indeed led them to encounter quite a few interesting folks.

From Red River Town through the desert oasis and castle, to the tropical bays by the desert’s edge and the exotic Baiyue Strait, and even the distant Jin Jialun Port.

Had it not been for Sesame Paste’s "I want to travel" and Tail’s "sounds interesting", she might not have traveled so far, but instead, like most ordinary players, would have experienced the game according to the plan designed by the "Game."

But then again, it was precisely because she met so many interesting people that she increasingly felt they did not resemble NPCs—rather, they seemed like real, living people.

What exactly was going on with this world?

She had pondered this question more than once and even tried to message Dog Plan to inquire, but never received an answer.

Perhaps the answer lay at the journey’s end, only to be revealed to those who completed it...

While her good friends joked around, Governor Nihak, escorted by Aksh, arrived at the pier carrying his briefcase.

Standing on the pier, he looked up at the deck and saw the talking white bear.

He froze, as the unpleasant memories from months ago flooded his mind, fear gradually painting his face.

Not wanting the servants behind him to see the cowardice in his eyes, he feigned composure and coughed softly, whispering hurriedly.

"Why is there still a bear up there? Can we switch to another ship?"

Aksh was taken aback and said with difficulty.

"Sir, it’s not a problem per se... but this is the only ship departing from here to West Sail Port anytime soon. The Everflow River crossing is still closed, and West Sail Port isn’t fully open to Jin Jialun Port yet, only Alliance and Army merchant ships are unaffected. If you wish to return home quickly, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do."

There were indeed other ships, requiring only a two-day wait, but he dared not delay any longer.

Should General Babita’s battle report reach Tiandu before him, his 500,000 Dinar might be wasted.

After all, emperors never admit their errors, once defined, no maneuver can change that.

Hearing this was the only ship, Nihak cursed under his breath and steeled himself to board the deck.

Taking an Alliance ship home...

Truly ill-fated for eight lifetimes!

Standing next to the gangway, a crew member approached him, checked his identity against the passenger list.

"Mr. Nihak, right? Please follow me... wait, you’re Nihak?" the crew member exclaimed, eyeing him up and down.

Nihak glared back fiercely.

"Is there a problem?"

"No... just that you seem to have gained quite a lot since a few months ago," the crew member said with a strange expression, before turning away to avoid an outburst and gestured, "Your room is on the right-hand corridor at the end of deck negative one. Please follow me."

With the last passenger aboard, the Meat Meat sounded its steam whistle and slowly left the dock.

At this moment, most residents of Jin Jialun Port were even unaware that their governor had left the prison and slunk out of Jin Jialun Port.

Even if they knew, they likely wouldn’t care, perhaps just glance at the joke of that guy.

In just a few short months, they had created miracles on this land that hadn’t emerged in two hundred years. They felt both grateful to the Alliance and a pride they had never experienced before.

Though some down-and-out nobles and Ancients longed for the orderly days of old, even they had to admit life was indeed a bit better now.

If only they could combine the two—utilizing Alliance technology without all that messy talk of equality.

Operating those machines wasn’t so hard, probably not more complicated than farming; slaves might even do it better and quicker.

But they could only think about it.

At least here, how things were done wasn’t up to them; those risen "lower classes" almost worshipped the "Iron Men" as gods on earth...

At the same moment Nihak slinked away with his briefcase, a telegram from the Governor’s Office in Potato Harbor also reached Chu Guang’s hands.

Though to Mr. Manager, contemplating the entire Wasteland situation, that Empire governor named Nihak was just a minor character, the "Empire" was still a member of the Mucor Research Community.

Aboard the Steel Heart in the wastelands of Wei Mansion.

After reading the report from Potato Harbor, Chu Guang phoned the Alliance’s Foreign Minister and instructed succinctly.

"Let the ’Survivor’s Daily’ release the news, no need for a big fuss, just mention in the middle or on the back page that ’Governor Nihak has gone home.’ Also, touch base with Duke Garava, give them a way out."

The Army had dispatched ten divisions to the front line, and both the Academy and corporations had increased their support.

He had a premonition that once the old bomb was defused, a new keg of powder might emerge.

The Sticky Community needed unity—it wasn’t just about dispersing after the battle; he had to eliminate all potential risks that could ignite the powder keg.

After all, the Empire was an unpredictable player, and the Army’s ranks were fraught with factions and opportunists.

For this reason, he had specifically cautioned Baiyue Corporation to restrain itself in handling affairs in Poluo Province.

Taking note of Manager’s instruction, Cheng Yan nodded seriously.

"Yes, sir."

As he turned off the holographic screen, Chu Guang leaned back in his chair, directing his gaze toward the dead, gray mist outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

The Allied forces’ vanguard was entering Haiye Province.

And according to their feedback, the situation there could aptly be described as Hell...

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