This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 530.3: "Red lanterns and ribbons fill the sky, even hyenas come to join the high. Mouths watering, they leap for the pot, some cry, some laugh, guess who gets caught"
She had spent almost the entire celebration roaming Dawn City’s streets for her column, barely even enjoying the festivities.
And just as she completed everything, her useless editor-in-chief told her the job was gone?!
Hal shrank back slightly and said nervously, "I figured since we were coming here anyway, I’d tell you in person... By the way, your arm’s healed? Congrats. It suits you."
Irritated, Dori rubbed her temples. She didn’t let him distract her, still stewing over the newspaper’s closure. "But... But wasn’t the newspaper funded by the New Alliance?"
Hal sighed and looked at Dori, who seemed desperate to make sense of it all.
"Yes, but the New Alliance Embassy wasn’t about to pressure Boulder Town over one newspaper. It’s their internal affair, and the New Alliance didn’t want to escalate it. That said, out of courtesy, Boulder Town didn’t give us a hard time. They let us take everything. Except for the windows and doors, I brought everything back, even your desk."
Dori stared at him blankly. "Then... What do you plan to do next?"
Hal’s expression turned a little complex as he looked toward the setting sun in the west. "I plan to take our team to Sunset Province and start a new Survivor’s Daily there. Begin expanding from the Lion Kingdom. Of course... If you don’t want to go that far, there’s a Survivor’s Daily here in Dawn City too. I’ve talked to their editor. They’re happy to have us."
He had read the Dawn City edition, it wasn’t nearly as fun as the one they ran in Boulder Town. After all, trading jabs with Mr. House took a certain level of wit.
Most cultured folks in the New Alliance preferred jobs with better conditions. Newspaper work wasn’t very profitable, so they couldn’t offer high salaries for editors. As a result, most of the writing was just plain and straightforward, lacking the charm and humor.
Still, the future looked promising. Ad revenues would rise with economic growth. And here, those who worked diligently would eventually be rewarded.
The Survivor’s Daily was born in Boulder Town, but its original mission had come to an end.
After explaining his plans, Hal didn’t dare linger for dinner. He carefully apologized once more and quickly left.
Watching Dori return from the entryway looking completely dejected, Ample Time gently patted her shoulder and tried to comfort her. “It’s alright...”
“But that article... I worked so hard to finish it...” Tears welled up in Dori’s eyes, a wave of grievance swelling in her chest.
She truly believed there were many aspects of the New Alliance’s model worth learning from. If Boulder Town could improve working conditions and enrich its citizens, then surely more new ideas and innovations would flow in, enriching the city through its people’s wild creativity. Even if they couldn’t return to the Prosperity Era, life could at least be better than the day before.
She didn’t like the nobles in the inner city. Having once worked as an intelligence broker, she understood more than anyone how vile and filthy those people could be.
But if it meant a better life for the people of Boulder Town, she was willing to set aside her insignificant grudges and publish the good things she saw in the New Alliance, even if some were simplistic or naive ideas.
Some would imagine, others would refine, and still others would experiment. Three people could always do more than one, and no one started out with a perfect solution.
Yet what she never expected was that just as she was preparing to do it all, Survivor’s Daily would be forced to shut down.
More vicious than ridicule or mockery was complete and utter indifference.
“Feels pretty ironic, doesn’t it?” Ample Time coughed lightly and joked, “The scheming big bad wolf gets treated like an honored guest, and the clever little investigator ends up losing the job she loves... Ouch! Oi, are you part cat?!”
Before he finished speaking, Dori had lunged and bit him. “You’re still teasing me!”
Seeing the tears brimming in her eyes, Ample Time suddenly felt a pang of heartache, even if players couldn’t feel physical pain.
He reached out and gently hugged her, stroking her hair. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t need to apologize!” With her eyes filled with tears, Dori sniffled stubbornly. Her voice was low and hoarse. It was painful to hear. “You knew this would happen... didn’t you?”
Ample Time let out a soft sigh, “If I said I didn’t expect it, that’d be a lie. But I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”
Dori looked at him with a gaze full of hurt. “But why? Why would they...”
“The reason might not be as complicated as you think. Maybe one day a noble got curious and picked up a copy from a street kiosk. Normally, they don’t read that stuff, just like they wouldn’t drink watered-down beer. But once they did, they frowned... So it’s not your fault. There’s no need to be upset over people who don’t matter.”
Not wanting Dori to feel too sad, Ample Time continued to reassure her. “Besides, even putting the newspaper aside, wandering the streets of Dawn City with you, sneaking around trying to uncover the New Alliance’s secret formula for success, that was genuinely fun for me.”
Such simple pleasures were ironically rare in the age of information.
In the real world, learning about anything was far too easy. A few clicks or calls and he would know everything.
“... But all our effort is meaningless now,” Dori said with her head down. “My column... It won’t even be published.”
“Who says it’s meaningless? Didn’t I tell you? Even just lying next to you on a lawn counting stars would be meaningful. And we did so much these past few days. The value of what we did shouldn’t be determined by someone who never even tried.”
Looking into her confused, uncertain eyes, Ample Time gently held her hand. “Why not submit your piece to the New Alliance’s Survivor’s Daily?”
“What we care about might not matter to them, and what they care about might not matter to us, but I believe their editor-in-chief will be moved by your meticulous investigation. We need your eyes, to discover the Na Fruit hidden among us, and all the dangers we haven’t yet seen.”
That confusion in her gaze gradually gave way to a soft glow.
Ample Time smiled warmly as he watched her slowly regain her spirit, and made a harmless little joke in a soft voice. “... It’d be a real shame to give up now.”
“I’m still counting on the kind and gentle Ms. Dori to earn money and support me.”
...
After leaving Liszt’s house, Chu Guang instructed Lu Bei to escort the chips to the Finance Department with the Guards Corps, while he himself went to the north street by Linghu Lake where many players were gathered. He wanted to see what new tricks his little players had cooked up.
As he passed by one of the player-built communities, he happened to run into Hal, who had just left Ample Time’s house.
Hal hadn’t figured out how to explain himself yet, and had originally planned to avoid him. But seeing that Chu Guang had already spotted him, he could only brace himself, step forward, and greet him. Before Chu Guang could ask anything, Hal confessed everything from beginning to end.
Avoiding the administrator’s gaze, Hal lowered his head and mumbled an apology. “Sorry... I let you down. The paper’s gone under.”
Seeing how nervous and uneasy he looked, Chu Guang happened to be in a good mood. He chuckled, “Did I ever tell you what my expectations were?”
Hal blinked in surprise, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Try as he might, he couldn’t recall. He scratched his head. “What were they?”
“Nothing at all. I just asked you to do it, I never said what it had to look like. But now, looking back, this investment brought some unexpected results. Your choices and decisions made me feel like I got more than my money’s worth.”
Looking at the young man’s puzzled face, Chu Guang smiled and continued, “Starting a paper in Sunset Province is a good idea. Do whatever you want. When you go back, send my regards to your father. By the way, have you eaten yet?”
Hal came back to his senses. His stomach growled, and he blushed as he shook his head. “No...”
“Then let’s eat together.”
Hal froze for a second, then quickly waved his hands in embarrassment. “I-I couldn’t possibly...”
Chu Guang laughed, clapping him on the shoulder and joking, “What do you mean? Wasn’t your first meal in Clearspring City on me? You didn’t seem this shy back then.”
Hal gave a dry cough. “That was different... I was starving.”
Back then... It was nothing like they were at the moment!
The New Alliance had since grown into a towering giant. Even his father treated the administrator with reverence, let alone him.
“Consider it a farewell meal. When you get to the desert, make sure you tell people what I actually look like. Don’t let them keep imagining things based on that lousy portrait.” Seeing Hal still hesitating, Chu Guang nudged him with a smile. “Come on, let’s get a drink. Don’t be such a baby about it!”
Any more refusal would be rude.
Hal smiled awkwardly and gave in, allowing himself to be dragged to a nearby barbecue stall.
Many residents from the shelters were there.
They weren’t especially surprised to see the administrator. Most were still busy with their own affairs, though a few idle jokers came over to pay their respects.
But Hal could tell, their cheeky made-up titles weren’t meant to mock or worship. It was just a kind of street theater, a way to catch his attention.
Will it really do them any good?
Deep down, they probably knew the administrator wouldn’t favor them just for flattery.
Hal didn’t know what they were trying to do. He just observed. After all, everything there was fresh and new to someone who had spent all his time in Boulder Town.
As night fell, the streets grew even livelier, and music began to play.
Everyone seemed to be celebrating the last night of the festival.
They kneaded crab meat from riftclaws with flour, seasoned it, and turned it into savory meat patties. They pushed tables together to share victory wine and stories of their adventures.
They never seemed to tire.
They didn’t fear the wasteland.
The aroma of grilled meat was more intoxicating than beer, and even more captivating were the bonfires and the dances in front of them.
As for the administrator who had brought him here, he had vanished somewhere long ago.
Slightly tipsy, Hal gazed at the hazy world before him and began humming a clumsy, self-composed rhyme. “Red lanterns and ribbons fill the sky, even hyenas come to join the high. Mouths watering, they leap for the pot, some cry, some laugh, guess who gets caught?”
Just wait.
Those arrogant bastards.
Thinking about it, once he went to the desert, he wouldn’t get to see the nobles’ smug faces turn sour anymore.
Hal suddenly found himself a little reluctant to leave...
