Chapter 134: The Game of Interests and the Internet Substitute [Two-in-One]

Chapter 134: The Game of Interests and the Internet Substitute [Two-in-One]

The morning in Willis was as bustling as ever.

Among the liveliest, busiest, and most vibrant places was undoubtedly the entrance of the Dragon Factory.

Even before dawn had fully broken, the wide factory gates were already teeming with activity.

The roadsides were almost uniformly lined with tricycles, the preferred mode of transport for the common folk.

Most of these belonged to breakfast vendors.

The variety of food on offer was extensive—soups, porridges, bread, pancakes, cold dishes, and even some who set up small stoves on the spot to sell hot meals.

In front of each stall stood a few workers, some weary from overnight shifts, others fresh and ready for the day’s labor.

But today, something was clearly off at the Dragon Factory’s entrance.

To be precise, the workers were unusually excited, chattering nonstop as they waited for their meals.

"Did you hear? Someone made 110,000 gold coins overnight in the dungeon! Damn, gold coins!"

"What? 110,000 gold coins?"

The moment the worker in line spoke, Temple, the former mercenary now flipping pancakes, pricked up his ears.

After being injured and no longer able to wield a sword and shield, he had turned to selling pancakes for a living.

With the help of his old comrades, he barely managed to support his large family.

It wasn’t until the Dragon Factory opened in Willis that his family’s fortunes began to improve.

A single day of selling outside the Dragon Factory now earned him more than ten days of his old business!

And that was no exaggeration.

Before, even in the wealthy imperial capital of Keville, most commoners could only afford two meals a day—breakfast and dinner—if they were lucky.

Some ate only when hungry and discarded leftovers when full.

Naturally, his business had been pitiful, barely enough to scrape by.

But now, ever since Lord Ajef established the Dragon Factory, the place was swarming with people.

The factory was famous for its high wages, and with money in their pockets, the workers were more willing to spend.

So much so that Temple had even bought himself a tricycle—not for luxury, but to secure a better spot faster.

"110,000 gold coins! Damn, I’m so jealous! That guy just stumbled into the dwarves' Mithril smelting plant like a blind cat catching a dead mouse, packed up a bunch of Mithril, and walked away with 110,000!"

"Dwarves? Smelting plant? What’s going on?"

"You haven’t heard? The Dwarven King stole the Internet God’s production line—supposedly ours from the Dragon Factory—and even insulted the great Internet God! So the Internet God declared war on the dwarves!"

"When did this happen? How come I didn’t know?"

"Just last night! You should’ve seen it—the legendary Floating City, bigger than Willis itself, hovering in the sky, marching straight to Kazad-dûm! So majestic it scared the dwarves into hiding!"

The worker’s face flushed with excitement as he gestured wildly.

"More like nonsense from the internet! That was an airship! A divine artifact created by the Internet God, way more impressive than any Floating City!" someone else scoffed.

"Who cares if it’s a Floating City or an airship? It was freaking awesome!"

"Yeah, just a beam of light can yank people from the ground up there!"

"Hey hey, buddy, what's the deal with those 110,000 gold coins?"

"Ah, it's too complicated to explain right now. Just go check it online yourself!"

"I... I can't read, man?"

"Put it simply, dungeons have opened up, and we can go to the dwarven world of Kazad-dûm! The Dwarven King stole the Internet God's production line, right? Well, the great Internet God retaliated in kind—letting us raid the dwarves' wealth too. Whatever we loot can be exchanged at the Interconnected Bank and cashed out."

"What? You can cash it out?"

The night-shift workers, who had been clueless, were now completely fired up.

Meanwhile, Temple, who was propping up an iron griddle and selling pancakes, had been eavesdropping for a while and finally pieced together what was going on. A flicker of envy flashed in his eyes.

"Don’t get too jealous. Back when I was a mercenary, I heard stories about people stumbling upon abandoned dragon lairs and making millions of gold coins overnight! Besides, dwarves aren’t easy to fight—they’re all holed up underground!" Temple couldn’t help but chime in.

He’d heard plenty of get-rich-quick tales in his lifetime.

In fact, those stories were what originally motivated him to become a mercenary.

But dreams are beautiful, while reality is harsh.

In reality, how many such windfalls actually happen?

Even if they do, it’s only for one or two lucky souls. No point hoping it’ll land on your lap.

So while he occasionally logged in to browse, that was as far as he went.

Rather than obsessing over beastmen, he’d rather focus on kneading dough and figuring out how to sell more pancakes for a stable, tangible income.

"Yeah! Our guild leader pulled a whole crew last night, feinting here, bluffing there—worked all night just to clear one dwarven cave and only made a little over a thousand gold coins! Split evenly, we each got just 53 silver coins. I mean, talk about unfair, right?"

"What? 53 silver coins? Dude, that’s solid! I busted my ass last night and only managed to snag one demon-slaying blade. After the team split, I got a measly 9 silver coins—and I even lost a magic puppet in the process!"

"Damn, you guys are killing it! I only made 2 silver coins."

Like a stone tossed into a pond, the topic sent ripples through the crowd.

As the chatter grew, the factory gate buzzed even louder, with countless people sharing their hauls from the night before.

The unlucky ones got completely lost in Kazad-dûm, wandering around without earning a single copper coin.

The skilled ones even pocketed nearly a whole gold coin.

Of course, most fell somewhere in between—a few silver coins here, a few dozen copper coins there.

At a glance, almost everyone had made some profit, big or small.

Many even said outright:

"Dwarves are loaded! Even their foot soldiers are decked out in armor and weapons, plus magic artifacts. They’re way richer than those leaf-wearing beastmen. Forget finding a smithy—just killing one dwarf is worth it."

Pancake vendor Temple listened to the chatter, then glanced at the single copper coin he’d just earned from selling pancakes. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so appealing.

He thought to himself: Maybe I should take a shot at this too?

Sure, I’m old, but I’ve still got skills. If I control a magic puppet, who’s to say I can’t take on a dwarf?

While the pancake vendor Temple was itching to join the fray, the middle-aged woman Fenny selling offal noodles nearby remained far calmer.

She paid no heed to the chatter around her, focusing solely on her work.

She neatly arranged wooden bowls on the table, using a strainer to fill each one with hand-pulled noodles. Then, she scooped up the boiled offal, layering it generously over the noodles before sprinkling them with spices.

These spices were the secret to her offal noodles' popularity.

No one knew they were cultivated.

By sheer coincidence, she had learned about these miraculous plants from her neighbor Pus's mother. She had taken some from Pus's mother, planted them in her yard, and later had the sudden idea to use them in her offal dishes. To her surprise, the results were astonishingly good.

After all, in the Keville Empire, offal—made from animal organs—was considered the lowest-class food, something only the poorest commoners would eat.

It was the cheapest source of meat available to the common folk.

The reason was simple: offal had a strong, gamey stench, and since they were organs responsible for waste, anyone with half a brain could guess they weren’t exactly high-quality fare.

Only commoners who rarely tasted meat would frequent such fare.

But once Fenny used spices to mask the offal’s pungent odor, her offal noodle business suddenly took off.

Though slightly pricier, demand still outstripped supply.

The scent of cooked flesh was simply too enticing.

Now, her stall was swarmed with customers, leaving her too busy to even look up.

After sprinkling spices on the last bowl of offal noodles, she finally let out a small sigh of relief.

Just as she prepared to collect payment while serving, the usual rush of grease-stained hands didn’t appear.

Puzzled, she raised her head and realized the constant hum of chatter around her had vanished without her noticing.

A young man in sword training attire, riding a bicycle, had stopped in front of her stall and asked with a smile, "How much for a bowl, ma’am?"

Fenny’s pupils dilated.

The man’s attire clearly marked him as neither a lowly commoner nor a mercenary.

He was… a noble!

"Nine copper coins a bowl—" Fenny blurted out before catching herself and hastily waving her hands. "No, no charge! My lord, this is just offal noodles. If—if you fancy any, please take as you like."

"This wooden bowl must be worth at least ten coins, right? I’ll take it with the bowl!"

The young man reached out, pressing a hand over a bowl of offal noodles—which instantly vanished.

Then, a stack of at least twenty copper coins was gently placed where the bowl had been.

After leaving the payment, the young man leisurely pedaled away on his bicycle.

Fenny stood frozen.

Only after the young man had gone did the factory gates gradually buzz back to life.

Fenny’s stall was suddenly overrun.

"Ah! Wasn’t that… Lord Ajef?"

"It was Lord Ajef! I’ve seen him at the factory!"

"Good heavens, it really was Lord Ajef!"

"Lord Ajef eats offal noodles?"

"Hey, ma’am, give me a bowl of offal noodles!"

"Me too!"

A flood of workers crowded in, eager to taste the offal noodles that had drawn Lord Ajef’s attention.

Yu Sheng’an clearly had no idea that his simple purchase had just made an offal noodle vendor famous.

He was merely drawn to this food that somewhat resembled the flavors of his hometown.

At the moment, he was on his way to attend a meeting.

This was a meeting he had called—his response to the higher-ups of Keville.

Justin’s overnight wealth had not only inspired countless players but also provoked envy among Keville’s elite.

Early this morning, Dandell had sent a message, subtly hinting at a desire to intervene in the war at Kazad-dûm.

Clearly, the war mode Yu Sheng’an had initiated had made Keville’s upper echelons greedy.

Yu Sheng’an promptly convened the meeting.

The reason he didn’t simply teleport there and instead leisurely rode his bicycle was simple—he wanted to let the Keville higher-ups stew for a while.

Along the way, Yu Sheng’an made quite the spectacle of himself.

Yet, it didn’t cause much of a stir.

The reason was simple—there were far too many young people cosplaying as him.

The streets were filled with youths dressed in white training sword attire, riding bicycles.

Though he had his signature black hair, in a crowd like this, he still blended right in.

Even if someone recognized him, they’d usually freeze in surprise, and by the time they snapped out of it, he’d already pedaled far away.

Having not strolled through the city in a long time, Yu Sheng’an noticed that Willis had grown even livelier. The streets were packed with mercenaries escorting goods.

Clearly, industrialization had revitalized the city.

Watching the mercenaries bustling about, a thoughtful glint flashed in Yu Sheng’an’s eyes.

Transportation capacity is severely dragging down Keville’s industrial costs!

Looks like I’ll have to save up some Source Essence to develop portals. If that doesn’t work, rolling out a green-skinned train would be a decent alternative.

This reliance on human and animal labor is driving industrial costs way too high.

Lost in thought, Yu Sheng’an meandered his way into Felix Magic Academy, eventually parking his bicycle in front of the Ringed Magic Tower.

By the time he arrived at the anti-magic conference room, the three Gods of Magic had already been waiting for quite some time.

“Apologies for the wait, you three.”

“Greetings, Lord Ajef!”

Though they had waited long, the three Gods of Magic dared not show the slightest dissatisfaction. They quickly rose and placed a hand over their chests in salute.

Yu Sheng’an nodded and casually took a seat in a high-backed chair. Under the stunned gazes of the three Gods of Magic, he pulled out a bowl of freshly bought offal noodles from his Spatial Ring and set it on the table.

“Saw this at the factory gate. Smelled pretty good. Care for some?”

Yu Sheng’an reflexively offered out of politeness.

How are we supposed to share a single bowl of noodles?

Does he have more in his Spatial Ring?

More importantly, this is offal—lowly scraps!

Even down-and-out nobles wouldn’t touch this, let alone gods!

The three Gods of Magic hastily shook their heads, exchanging glances filled with confusion and contemplation.

What hidden meaning lies behind the Internet God’s actions?

Did he anticipate our intentions and is now signaling that even the profits from offal scraps won’t be pried from his grasp?

At this thought, their eyes flickered with unease.

“Been quite busy these past couple of days. If you have something to say, just say it outright.”

As he spoke, Yu Sheng’an began savoring the offal noodles.

Huh, not bad at all.

They had clearly been stewed with spices—not a hint of gaminess, and the toughness of the offal had been softened just enough. Chewy but not rubbery, with a satisfying bite.

"We came primarily for the matter of Kazad-dûm. Never did we expect Dwarven King Kaut to commit such a despicable and shameless act! This is nothing short of spitting in the face of Keville! The Keville Empire is willing to serve you with utter devotion!"

Dandell declared solemnly.

"Oh? And how exactly do you plan to serve me with 'utter devotion'?"

Yu Sheng'an asked between slurps of noodles.

"Though we cannot fathom the full extent of Lord Ajef’s strategic plan, it’s clear that he has already seized the dwarves by their lifeline! However, once the dwarves regain their footing, they will surely intercept the magic puppets on the surface."

"Therefore, we propose purchasing airships, erecting Magic Towers atop them, and deploying mages to suppress any dwarves who dare emerge above ground!"

Dandell spoke gravely.

This was the weak link in the Internet God’s strategy that Keville’s higher-ups had identified after a night of deliberation—a gap they could exploit.

"Approved."

Yu Sheng'an nodded.

The three Gods of Magic were overjoyed—until his next words froze their budding delight.

"However, Keville’s mages are not to go in person."

"Lord Ajef, we’ve studied your airship designs. With Magic Towers built upon them, safety is virtually guaranteed. The mages’ personal security wouldn’t be an issue at all! Moreover, relying solely on magic puppets—no matter how advanced—would severely limit the mages’ full combat potential. This would hinder the execution of the strategy."

Qimoer hurriedly explained.

"And then you could all become 'official granary rats,' couldn’t you?"

Yu Sheng'an’s words left the three Gods of Magic stunned.

Before they could decipher the meaning of "official granary rats," Yu Sheng'an set down his chopsticks, leaned back in his high-backed chair, and spoke in a chilling tone.

"The airships, the dwarves’ wealth—if you want these things, you’ll follow my rules. Don’t try to outsmart me. Understood?"

Why did he reject the Gods of Magic’s proposal?

It was a matter of profit.

And a matter of centralized control.

Think about it—if he allowed mages to enter Kazad-dûm in person, wouldn’t they secretly engage in "rat trading," smuggling stolen wealth back to Keville?

Absolutely. It was inevitable.

Because Yu Sheng'an taxed them!

And not just any tax—a progressive tax rate!

The more wealth they exchanged, the heavier the tax.

A minimum of 3%, scaling up to a crushing 40%!

Yu Sheng'an didn’t care about the money itself. What he cared about was the cost of war and his control over the Fourth Calamity.

He was running a platform. If those beneath him bypassed it to form their own little vertical circles, wouldn’t that make his "Internet" nothing but a charity?

Once that door was opened, human wisdom would find endless ways to exploit the loopholes.

Those who helped others circumvent the rules would be hailed as "great benefactors."

Meanwhile, he—the rule-maker, the god who invested in the platform to lead everyone to prosperity—would be vilified as the "great villain."

Such was human nature.

In truth, Yu Sheng'an’s approach mirrored the "transit hub" model of the courier industry.

Transit hubs had many benefits, but their fundamental purpose was control over grassroots franchisees!

When all goods had to pass through the hub before being dispatched, no matter how remote or unruly the franchisee, they had no choice but to comply!

The same goes for Yu Sheng'an's Fourth Calamity.

Whether you covet the mineral resources of the Dofi domain or the wealth of the dwarves in Kazad-dûm, fine—use my platform, pay the taxes you owe, and earn as much as your skills allow.

But if you try to bypass my rules, I’m sorry—I can send airships hovering over the walls of Willis City.

After all, the Keville Empire wasn’t conquered by Yu Sheng'an through sheer force.

His control has always been tenuous.

He indirectly governs the Keville Empire through the three Gods of Magic.

If the two sides were to fall out, even if he killed the three Gods of Magic, it would be difficult for him to quickly reunite Keville into a cohesive force.

Reality, after all, is not a game.

If he truly did this, what would the noble mages below think?

Some might surrender,

but most would be terrified and flee in panic.

To put it bluntly, this is a game of authority.

Achieving one’s goals at the smallest cost is the mark of a skilled schemer.

At this moment, facing Yu Sheng'an’s resolute refusal, the three Gods of Magic—Dandell and the others—paled.

They instinctively opened their mouths, wanting to argue, but in the end, no words came out. A flicker of fear flashed deep in their eyes.

In their daze, it was as if they saw the internet truly transforming into a vast net, ensnaring them all—the more they struggled, the tighter it constricted.

No wonder, despite being the power of "interconnection," it was named with the word "net."

So this was the true meaning of the internet.

...

By the time Dandell and the other two gods fully grasped the terrifying nature of the internet, the Five Great Righteous Gods were even more deeply shaken.

"We must develop an alternative as soon as possible. Otherwise, our preaching zones will inevitably fall to the Internet God!"

"The God of Death’s authority might be able to achieve that."