Well, forget it, no one will understand the rant anyway, Malin began reading the newspaper with a hint of regret.
The first page, the drought in the North worsens as the Chaos Army clashes with the Human Alliance at the Winterhold Great Wall.
Winterhold Great Wall, a medieval place name. In the Middle Ages, humans could only roam south of the North. To the North, there were numerous barbaric tribes controlled by the Evil God. In those times, the god-chosen champions of the barbarians were a severe headache for humans. Every year, there would be battles along the Winterhold Great Wall until the Church of Justice was established, and humans began to venture North. They established Northern countries below the permafrost line. This time, it is these Northern countries that have fallen into disaster. If it weren’t for the Southern countries sending reinforcements, Chaos might have already crossed the Winterhold Great Wall.
Although they have held back the massive armies of Chaos, the daily combat consumes no small amount. The warehouses of the factories had been cleared out a month ago. The shipments of second-tier canned goods and third-tier canned goods now only happen once a week. Shift workers create staggering profits for Malin every day, among which the Turansa Theocracy even invited Malin to build a factory. They have a large number of refugees from the North, more deer and various wild game in the Northern forests, and their sheep farming is the best in the entire Western Human World.
After much consideration, Malin finally sent a young steward from the Faye family to take charge—right, all the supervisors under Malin are subordinates from the Mowish family clans. With the True God, Malin does not have to worry about the Mowish family taking over his establishment, and their close cooperation with Malin ensures they don’t need to fear any ulterior motives from him—if they still worry about Malin having any alternative intentions, the Mowish family would be a laughingstock.
Business seems to be getting better and better, but Malin starts to worry that among those families, someone might act irrationally out of envy and jealousy.
However... after all, he is not a pitiable person incapable of fighting back. With the major Churches behind him, if he still manages to lose, Malin is really ready to flip the table—or become an eternal god-chosen champion, damn it all.
Moreover, this is an impossible world. Malin has lived in this world for so many years, the most he has seen are rational actions. The survival instincts of the Nobles are through the roof. For example, those fellows from the abandoned fortress years ago, they still maintain close contact with Malin, often Logan’s big plans were introduced by them.
It really made Malin feel a little bad—I’m not some tragic being with only a seven-second memory.
As Malin sighed, he turned the page.
The second page, Turansa Theocracy and Carterburg Union’s food processing factory reached a cooperation intent to build a factory in the North.
Great, it looks like Mowish’s steward is really useful. Malin made the right decision to leave things to him; such effortless money-making opportunities indeed come in abundance.
Malin looked at the third page with delight.
In the past two years, the Dwarves’ military equipment has been constantly updated. Where exactly did our Union’s money go?
Malin read from beginning to end; the Author compared the Dwarven army with the Sydney Union’s, filled with doubts and uncertainties about the future.
Hmm, it must be the Union army’s PR department commissioning this soft article. After reading it through, the message that dominated the third page was essentially only two words—no, four words—"I’m broke, pay up."
Considering the Dwarves’ annual fee last year was about twenty-four million Dwarven gold coins, they listened to Malin’s heavy artillery theory and established ten artillery battalions. It turned out that so many cannons firing was indeed exhilarating; all the front-line Chaos fortresses on their side were wiped out. Likewise demolished were their logistics, spending one and a half years’ worth of artillery stock in four months. The Dwarven logistics department has now become a hotbed for overworked deaths, and every shell manufacturer directly faces life and death.
They, on the other side, experienced Malin’s theory in a way that was both extremely happy and painful.
Based on the exchange rate of Dwarven gold coins to Sydney Dollars, King Carter of the Mowish family probably couldn’t even plug the enormous financial gap if he sold his daughters and sons.
Within three days, it’s likely that Mowish’s official writer will write a counteracting soft article.
Malin turned another page, moving to the fourth page—which discussed the refugee problem from the North. To be honest, to the veteran Nobles of the Sydney Union, the Northern countries have already drawn enough refugees. Most of those who managed to come to Mowish at this time of year are seeking ways to survive in this Southern realm.
The North has become very crowded, and in Malin’s view, most of the refugees coming to the South are pitiable people who simply cannot survive in the North any longer.
Many skilled individuals also migrated with their families, as factories in the North are already overcrowded. Factory owners can fill positions even offering half the going wage, which shows just how harsh the living conditions in the North are.
However, these issues are beyond Malin’s ability to handle.
Moreover, the city of Lelini has also begun to distance itself from the refugee routes. The closer it is to the Central Administrative Province, the more stringent the management of refugees becomes. Refugees without any indispensable skills don’t even think about coming to this city, hence this city enjoys such peaceful living, unlike previous towns where refugees slept even on the streets.