I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 283 Fraud
The more frequent the assassinations, the better the judge is doing, and the better the judge is doing, the more intense the assassinations become, and the more intense the assassinations become, the more leverage Chris gains.

Therefore, Chris doesn't mind assassinations at all; in fact, he thinks the more the better.

As it turned out, the Inquisitor who wrecked the entire street did a really good job. In the two weeks following the end of Judgment Day, he led a large group of players to roam the town and village areas, running from Voltradnoy to Oncandra, from the town to the farm, from the mountains to the mines, with small battles happening constantly.

Unlike Chris's assassinations in the city, Crazy Slashes outside the city involved repeated battles with bandits, villagers, and private armies raised by local bullies.

They encountered everything from direct confrontations and ambushes to villagers poisoning them. They hacked through an entire street and killed all the players who followed them, which made it incredibly satisfying for them. In just half a month, they managed to kill over two thousand people.

This is definitely a case of killing a lot of people.

Apart from the one who rampaged through the street as the judge and was well protected, almost all the other players who followed him died at least once.

The most intense and tragic battle was when he was attacked by more than two hundred foreign mercenaries in a small town after hacking through an entire street. The battle lasted all night, resulting in him losing a hand and going blind in one eye.

Perhaps because of this experience, he became even more frenzied after hacking down an entire street. Before, he would pretend to investigate, and after the investigation, he would leave a way out for the families of the bystanders, not going too far.

Now he just takes the list and leads his men straight to the homes of those local thugs, and starts killing without saying a word.

As a result, even as a judge, hacking down an entire street would result in negative reputation.

Chris picked up a report from the judge yesterday afternoon and read that a street had been hacked in a small town fifty kilometers east of Oncandra when it was attacked by a group of traitors, forcing a routine trial.

The trial resulted in 127 deaths and 57 injuries.

Tsk, Chris subconsciously opened the profile of Crazy Slash Street to see how many reputation points this kid had lost... Oh dear, he didn't lose any, but instead gained twelve points.

This shows that although he and the players following him may have mistakenly killed some neutrals during their rampage in the town yesterday, most of the people they killed were heinous criminals who deserved their fate.

This is the dismantling of a bandit stronghold disguised as a normal small town.

Thinking about it carefully, this is quite normal. The saying "bad people come from poor and remote places" has always held true. And it just so happens that Bagnia is poor enough. It's not surprising that some of the more remote areas have become places of lawlessness.

This is why Chris, despite knowing that the street-chopping spree was going too far, did not stop it at all, allowing the latter to continue his rampage with some bloodthirsty players.

Although they act recklessly, they are not truly reckless; rather, they are carefully selecting individuals and groups to target.

Therefore, although his reputation was negatively affected by hacking down an entire street, his Inquisitor title was never revoked.

The reason is simple: although his method of ruthlessly cutting down an entire street was crude, he was indeed doing the right thing, making Bagnia a better place.

When cleaning up the trash, it's understandable and forgivable if you're a little rough and break some bottles or jars.

Anyway, these bottles and jars aren't worth much, and they're not pretty either. Even if they weren't broken, Chris would replace them himself later.

So, Chris simply stamped "read" on the report document about the street being hacked down, tossed it aside, and told the clerk to file it back up and leave it alone.

This is just a makeshift operation, so let's leave it at that.

Chris is more concerned with how to feed the Bagnians than with the fighting and killing of the players.

Damn idiots, the aftereffects of the fire those idiots set on King's Plain during the war are now appearing.

Just as Chris lowered his head and worked hard, the guards' whistles and roars sounded again outside his office.

Another assassin was discovered by the guards as he approached the prince's office.

These frequent assassinations have led Chris to purchase all his food and drink from online shopping platforms, completely eliminating the possibility of poisoning by the assassins.

……

"Crack, click..."

The sound of leather military boots crunching on the snow was so crisp that Lieutenant Joachim, who was on leave today and could leave the barracks for some fresh air, couldn't help but stomp harder.

It's a holiday, what should I do?

Should we go to the shopping street to have a big meal first, or go to Pink Street for a day of revelry...? The latter probably won't work. I remember a brother who had a holiday a couple of days ago said that an Inquisitor's entourage went to Pink Street and wiped out the gang that was entrenched there, and rescued all the tech women.

Pink Street, naturally, disappeared.

Where are we going?
Even as he pondered, Joachim did not stop walking. He walked and walked until he reached the slums, his boots sinking into the mud and snow mixed with filth.

"Ah, it's dirty."

Just as Joachim was feeling frustrated, the smell of hot soup wafting from the end of the street, along with the noise of men, women, and children, caught his attention.

Joachim looked up in the direction of the sound and saw more than thirty pale and thin men and women lining up to receive wooden plaques. At the end of the line was a large cast-iron pot, and the overseer wearing a red armband was pouring a whole bag of oats into the boiling soup.

"The third street cleanup team will start work at noon!"

The foreman tapped the edge of the pot with a wooden spoon; his voice was so loud that it made ice shards fall from the ceiling.

"Today, anyone who goes to dig the sewers will be rewarded with one kilogram of rye as long as they complete the assigned task, and they can exchange five corpses for a blanket!"
How much is one kilogram?
Look, it's just a small bag, but it's completely full... The prince is kind; even children can do this work and get food.

Seeing this scene, Joachim couldn't help but think of his own past. How wonderful it would have been if he had had such a job opportunity when he was a child.

At least he would have a chance to exchange manure for oats and wouldn't have to go hungry.

Thinking of this, Joachim subconsciously walked over there.

Old Jack, who was holding the hilt of his sword at his waist and looking arrogant, saw a man in a green officer's uniform walking towards him. He quickly put on a smile, bowed and moved closer, his rough fingers nervously rubbing the edge of his red armband.

"Sir, what are your orders?"

The two officers behind him nervously gripped the short sticks at their waists. Ever since the Inquisitors massacred the gangs in the slums, these big shots in officer uniforms had become the most unpredictable dangers... The most popular everyday clothes for players are the handsome officer uniforms.

Although they knew the judge's blade wouldn't fall on them, the village chiefs were still instinctively afraid.

Joachim’s gaze passed over them and landed on the barefoot little girl at the end of the line.

The child was picking at the marks on the wooden sign with his frostbitten fingers. His body, wrapped in a tattered sack, was as thin as a reed. He suddenly remembered that twelve years ago, in the winter, he had also squatted outside the lord's granary, counting the gaps in the wooden fence while waiting for the porridge to be distributed.

The result was that she received nothing, and her mother starved to death. The little girl was lucky; she was able to have a bowl of hot porridge before she started working.

"The village head?"

Joachim looked away, his thumb unconsciously stroking the corps insignia on the hilt of his sword.

"Are the slums now under the jurisdiction of the Civil Affairs Department?"

"Yes...yes, according to His Highness Chris's newly issued 'Neighborhood Security Order'."

Old Jack swallowed hard and suddenly yelled at the crowd.

"Stand at attention! This is an officer from the Second Army Corps!"

The corps medal on Joachim's shoulder revealed his unit.

Immediately, a chaotic stomping sound arose beside the iron pot. Several men who had received wooden plaques hurriedly pressed their tattered hats onto their heads. An old hunchback was in such a hurry that the oats in his bowl spilled onto the snow. He immediately knelt down and scooped them up with trembling hands.

Joachim's stomach suddenly convulsed. He strode over, grabbed the old man, and pulled a silver coin from his pocket, stuffing it into the man's hand.

“Go buy a pair of boots.” Then, as Joachim turned around, he caught old Jack’s astonished look and said in a low voice.

"Is His Highness aware of your embezzlement of rations?"

Joachim was trying to trick Old Jack. The oatmeal porridge was actually quite thick, and it wouldn't be a problem to fill one up. However, Joachim didn't see a single bit of meat in the porridge, which was inconsistent with Prince Chris's usual generous approach. He suspected that Old Jack had been withholding the meat rations from his superiors.

The village head's face turned deathly pale instantly.

"Sir, please understand!"

Old Jack almost knelt down in the snow.

“Now every bag of grain has to be signed and sealed in three places, and the officials from the neighborhood committee send people to check every two days… Even if I were crazy, I wouldn’t dare to break the law at this time.”

As Old Jack was talking, he suddenly thought of something and lowered his voice to say something.

"But from what I understand, some starving stray dogs will snatch relief food from the elderly, women, and children when we can't see them..."

Joachim followed old Jack's gaze and looked into the depths of the alley.

Several ragged, burly men were squatting beside an abandoned brick kiln, smoking. The leather boots on their feet were clearly taken from corpses.

Upon noticing the officer's gaze, the bald leader grinned, revealing his yellow teeth, and deliberately turned around so that Joachim could see the trembling woman holding the baby beside him.

Joachim immediately drew the flintlock pistol issued to officers from his waist and pulled the trigger at the bald man.

"boom!"

Gunshots rang out in the narrow slum streets, and the bald thug fell to the ground.

The entire street instantly fell silent except for the bubbling sound of the pot.

The two thugs in the alley paused for a moment, then turned and ran.

Joachim did not pursue the body. Instead, he walked slowly to the body and tore open its outer garment... Inside, there were more than a dozen bulging little pockets, all filled with moldy rye and dried meat strips.

In addition, there was a sharp knife that was clearly a common sight in street fights. Joachim took the knife out, put it in the dead man's hand, and then waited patiently.

Because of the war and assassinations, Wotradnoy is still under military control, with patrols of corps soldiers on the streets outside, who are very sensitive to gunfire.

Before long, the neighborhood patrol team arrived after hearing the commotion.

"How should I reply... Ah, good morning, sir."

The patrol leader, a sergeant, instinctively raised his hand in salute the moment he saw Joachim. Joachim stood still, his hands behind his back, maintaining the dignified posture of an officer.

“I yelled at the thug who was robbing grain and told him to stop, but the thug went berserk and tried to attack me with a knife. So I was forced to kill him on the spot. You can see the stolen goods on his body.”

The sergeant glanced at the body on the ground, then at the footprints in the alley. It had snowed a little recently, and the tracks were obvious. Combined with the people nearby…

"Sir, do you have any witnesses?"

"That's what the sergeant said."

"Yes, the people over there can testify."

Joachim pointed at old Jack, who nodded and bowed without saying a word.

The sergeant understood the situation, nodded, and his expression gradually became excited.

"Okay, sir."

"By the way, two of the attacker's accomplices escaped."

"Understood, sir. I'll take men to track down their hideout right away."

The sergeant immediately led his men into the alley. This was a meritorious achievement, and they couldn't delay. If they could capture and kill the two bandits' accomplices, he would definitely be able to get promoted from sergeant to senior sergeant when he returned.

What, you're saying that's not the truth?
You're crazy. The truth is, "Audacious bandits attacked Prince Chris's officers in broad daylight, only to be killed by the latter. The bandits' accomplices escaped, and a brave patrol sergeant led the pursuit, finding the bandits' hideout and taking down an anti-Prince Chris criminal gang."

You say no, do you have any evidence?

no.

But I have physical evidence and witness testimony.

After the patrol left, Joachim turned to look at old Jack, who was also looking at him with a fawning smile.

Old Jack was a little scared. He knew that if he hadn't nodded, the sergeant would have come up and grabbed his head, forcing him to nod. The army was the most united and protective group.

Besides, what just happened was also in my favor. Without the thugs around, my job would be much easier.

Joachim didn't bother to look at old Jack. He took out his money bag and tossed it to the latter. It contained nearly fifty silver dollars, so heavy that old Jack's hand slumped down.

"Take this money and buy clothes for them, then distribute them..."

Joachim pointed to the men, women, and children queuing for porridge, especially the little girl in the tattered sack, his tone carrying an undeniable firmness.

"Don't let these people freeze barefoot in the snow anymore. If they are sick, let them see a doctor, and I will cover the cost."

Old Jack paused for a moment, then smiled broadly and said repeatedly.

"Yes, yes, sir, I'll take care of it right away."

He took the money bag and clutched it tightly in his hand, as if afraid it would fly away.

After Joachim finished doing this, he turned and left without looking back at Old Jack or paying attention to the whispering people. He believed that Old Jack wouldn't take the money he had given him after what had just happened.

This is a lot of money. As long as Old Jack doesn't embezzle it, it's enough to buy these people living in the slums a set of second-hand clothes for winter, plus a pair of decent shoes.

Joachim walked out of the slum streets, his boots still covered in black snow, but he didn't stop to clean them.

The lieutenant looked up at the sky. Sunlight streamed through the thin clouds, warming him. Joachim squinted slightly, thinking to himself, "Perhaps Prince Chris really can make this city and this country better."

What Joachim didn't know was that no sooner had he left the slums than Old Jack turned around and shouted at the men, women, and children shivering in the cold winter as they lined up.

"Alright, the lieutenant's gone, and those thugs who wanted to take over our territory have been driven away. You guys hurry up and put on your clothes and shoes; we can have an extra meal tonight—meat!"

"Wow...that's great!"

The little girl in the burlap sack jumped three feet high and leaped into old Jack's arms.

"Dad, I want to eat the biggest piece of fatty meat, the largest piece of fatty meat."

"Okay, okay, I'll go buy canned meat right now... Oh, Dad, don't eat that oatmeal that fell on the ground, you can't eat that stuff anymore, spit it out!"

If Joachim were willing to learn about the policies announced by Chris, he would know that Chris's work relief program, in addition to food, also provided clothing and medical services that were cheap to the point of being free.

This whole scheme wasn't even designed for him, but for the players; his falling for it was purely coincidental.

(End of this chapter)