Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 347 Plunder and Development

The ship rocked slightly, and the mast and chains clanged together from time to time.

Several pirates were squatting on the deck repairing cracks, their tools striking the planks, the air thick with the smell of dampness and fish.

The Mad King's latest order is for them to circle around to the south, intercept a merchant fleet of the Azure Tide Guild, seize the designated goods and people, and then send them to his flagship in the deep sea.

Bag was the leader of the squad, but he had no idea what the shipment actually was. It was sealed so tightly that even they hadn't been able to get a glimpse of it.

Some crew members said it was an alchemical product that could set the entire sea ablaze, while others said it was an offering the Mad King intended to give to some old god.

Nobody cares about the truth; it's just a spice to spice things up on their boring sea voyage.

The truth is that they hijacked the Azure Tide Guild's ship but didn't get any spoils.

Furthermore, a full third of the fleet perished in that attack, including the first helmsman.

Now, the waters of Broken Wave Bay contain thirty more corpses of their brothers, in exchange for a pile of bottles and jars, and several prisoners.

Bag sat in the cabin, slowly chewing as he cleaned fish bones from between his teeth:
"Thirty brothers were exchanged for a bunch of junk in an iron box and a few men, not even half a woman. The Mad King may want treasure, but we don't even have half a barrel of rum."

After saying that, he kicked the barrel in a fit of anger, causing it to overturn. The wine, mixed with the smell of blood, seeped into the cracks in the wood, and the crew and pirates rushed over to right it.

“The boss is right.” A pirate leaning against the barrel swung his wine jug, his tongue slurring slightly.

"Thirty brothers, drowned in that godforsaken place for nothing. The Mad King is truly insane. He just finished fighting the Empire, and now he dares to touch the Federation's balls. Isn't he afraid of getting bitten off?"

"Hmph, this isn't the first time." A helmsman covered in scars next to him used his teeth to open the bottle and took a big gulp.

"The Mad King wants to take the whole sea into his crotch, but he doesn't understand those alchemical concoctions at all. We've lost people, and we still don't know what we were transporting."

“Perhaps he knows,” the old ship doctor, sitting at the sluice gate, said slowly, “but we are not worthy to know.”

As soon as he said that, a burst of laughter erupted on the deck.

"Not worthy of being trendy?"

"Am I not worthy of taking a dump?"

"If the Mad King wants me to deliver these damned jars again, I'd rather tie a rock to myself and jump into the sea!"

"Maybe he really wants us to jump."

"Hey, seriously, who knows what's in that iron box? Could it be the Mad King's own broken tooth?"

"Anyway, it's not gold coins."

"Then it's worthless."

As they shouted, some people put their feet on the railing and looked up at the gray sea in the distance.

“I remember, on the way back after delivering the goods last time,” the young pirate began, his tone hesitant but still speaking, “we saw a dilapidated port on that frozen beach in the south. I don’t know if it’s been built yet.”

Everyone was silent for a moment.

Are you sure this isn't a hallucination?

"That place didn't have a port before."

One of the pirates suddenly remembered: "Wasn't it because we had to complete the mission that we suppressed the robbery that time?"

"Oh, oh. I was itching to rush up and grab some women back then. But the mission was more important, so I had to just watch." Bag was drunk, but he remembered.

"Hehe, aren't we on our way back now?" A pirate excitedly turned to Bagg. "Boss, can we go in and take a look this time?"

"Brothers," Bag said, leaning on the railing, his voice hoarse and drunken, "I haven't forgotten, thirty brothers, and what did we get in return?"

With a belly full of seawater, a few broken jars, and the mad king's words of "well done," he couldn't possibly come out empty-handed this time, could he?

"Tonight, let's change course and head that way, whether it's New Harbor or Ghost Den, we'll go in and take a look. If they dare to buy goods, hoard alcohol, or women... then don't blame us for being ruthless."

He shrugged: "The wine is yours, the gold coins are mine, the silver coins are for everyone, and the women... grab them quickly."

Amidst a burst of laughter, he gritted his teeth and added, "This time, let's make a little money for ourselves too."

The crew erupted in a wave of shouts.

"Rum!"

"woman!"

"silver!"

"Well done, boss!"

"The Mad King wants jars, we want beautiful women!"

Bagg muttered a low hum, which sounded like a reply, but also like a curse: "The Empire's new port? Perfect for the brothers to have a treat."

…………

The sea fog was so thick it resembled a sticky spider web, and even lights couldn't illuminate more than two steps away.

"Light is coming from the south!" A shout suddenly came from the top of the mast, the scout's voice filled with barely concealed excitement.

Hearing the sound, Bag jumped up from beside the barrel, slipped, and had to grab the mast to avoid falling.

He exhaled, his nose filled with the smell of rum: "Where?"

In the distance, a sliver of light flickered in the fog, like a beckoning prostitute, drawing them in.

They drew closer little by little.

Most of the crew could only vaguely make out the outlines of things in the fog, with lights flickering. Some were even guessing whether it was firewood from the fishing village.

"They're this close and there's still no movement. It's probably empty," muttered a limping helmsman.

"Bullshit, I see rows and rows of warehouses, what do you mean by a fishing village?" Another shook his head, his eyes fixed on the bright spots in the fog.

Bag ignored them, raised his old but gleaming brass telescope, and saw more clearly through the lens.

The lighthouse was quite large, with a breakwater extending straight into the sea. Warehouses lined the shore in neat rows, and there were even figures patrolling the top of the tower with torches in hand.

“Damn it…” Bag muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with alcohol and gritted teeth, “Who the hell said this is a run-down port? This is no port…it looks like some corrupt official’s floating treasury.”

He kicked the side of the boat, a slight thought of retreating crossed his mind, but it quickly dissipated. Although his head was full of strong liquor, his mind was still functioning.

“You’re saying you’re not going to fight now? Then I’m afraid I’ll have to jump into the sea myself tonight.” Bag said in a low voice, a grin spreading across his face. “If those drunkards hear that I’m backing down, they’ll tie me to the mast and feed me to the seabirds.”

He whirled around, his voice rising several decibels, laced with alcohol and rage: "Don't raid during the day, go at night! Let's launch a night attack!"

The helmsman had barely nodded and hadn't even turned around when the cabin erupted in chaos.

"Boss is wise!"

"Hey, he's still got his brain working, he's got some fucking clever ideas!"

"That's what you call a strategy!"

"Chopping people up at night, clean and efficient!"

Some people started banging on the deck, while others simply picked up an axe and spun around as if they were about to dance.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and excited shouts.

Bagg had initially intended to hurl a few curses, but the nonsensical flattery made him involuntarily smirk. "A bunch of drunkards, if they keep calling me that, I'll start to believe I'm an imperial general," he cursed, but didn't stop them.

She even walked further ahead, gazing at the light in the mist, and the more she looked at it, the more it resembled a bewitching woman.

Bag chuckled and raised his hand: "Turn the rudder west and slow down. No noise, wait for my command."

…………

The conference hall is located on the third floor of the main administrative building of Dawn Harbor. The exterior of this building is painted with red and blue stripes, which is completely different from the original wooden house.

The only thing that remains unchanged is the emblem of the sun and the tide still hanging on the exterior wall.

From the window, you can see the entire harbor basin and the newly built breakwater. Several ships are moored in their designated positions. The fog is gradually dissipating, revealing the outline of the harbor.

Louis sat in the main seat, dressed in casual clothes without any insignia.

Elliott, Russell, Bernard, and Rida stood at the table, ready to report on their respective work progress.

Everyone was fully prepared, knowing that today's report not only concerned the future of Dawn Harbor, but also directly related to their position in Louis's heart.

In a corner of the conference hall, a conference board left over from the era of wooden houses is still preserved.

The surface was wiped clean, and the six phases of port construction and the current progress were listed on the board in the font of Red Tide.

The completed parts are outlined in red, while the unfinished parts are marked with notes, and a few places appear slightly messy.

Although the information on the board was already clear, Louis still required each official to report it in person.

“Data is data, and judgment is judgment.” Louis glanced at the people seated at the table and said without further ado, “Let’s start with the port project.”

Russell stood up and reported: "The foundation is currently 95% complete. The dam structure is stable, the berths and tracks are in operation, and the sewage discharge channels are unobstructed."

The cargo processing area is not yet complete; materials are delayed by two days, and delivery is expected within fourteen days.

Louis nodded slightly, then asked, "What about the transport tracks? Won't they crack when they freeze in winter?"

Russell glanced down at the board in his hand: "We've done stress testing. For those parts that are prone to problems, we used a modified formula of cushioning adhesive, so it can hold its own."

"What about the weld seam at the connection?"

"We've checked some of them, and the temperature difference doesn't have much of an impact. We've arranged for someone to check the remaining seams."

“Yes, let’s treat this as a serious matter,” Louis said in a low voice. “A simple ‘no problem’ isn’t enough to stop the snowstorm.”

Russell didn't retort, he just nodded.

“Next.” Louis raised his hand.

Bernard stood up. He was now the shipbuilding supervisor and had spent his entire life building ships in the shipyard. This was the first time he had sat down at the conference table to give a formal report, and he looked a little nervous.

“Uh… Nine of the Dawn-class warships have already been built and are ready.” He swallowed. “They’ve all been launched and tested, and we’ve run several combat drills… We successfully intercepted two enemy attacks, and the pursuit accuracy was also quite good.”

He paused, glanced at Louis, and quickly added, "Average hit rate around 80%."

Have you tried it in extreme sea conditions?

"We will arrange ice test flights next week. The sloping ribs have a double structure with a buffer space inside."

Louis nodded.

Seeing that he didn't speak, Bernard mustered up his courage and continued, "The blueprints for our two new models, Dawn and Tide, have been finalized... They are modified according to the ideas you mentioned before."

He paused for a moment, then added in a low voice, "It's bigger, has a deeper draft, can carry people and cargo, and the stern also has a reserved space for a steam engine... It's the sketch you drew last time."

"Can it withstand the sudden gusts of wind in the sea fog?"

"Yes, the hull is made of cold iron. I didn't believe in these fancy tricks before, but now I'm truly impressed. At first, I thought your designs were all unbelievable, but after trying them out, they all worked perfectly."

Bernard scratched his head, as if embarrassed. "I've been building ships for decades, and this is the first time I've sat at this table. To be honest... I'm a little uneasy."

Louis said softly, "It's good that you've explained yourself. Take your time."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Keep a close eye on the blueprints. The shipyard's pace can't be disrupted. There's no rush, but we can't miss anything."

The third person to stand up was Elliott, whose attitude was as firm as ever.

"The fleet has completed three rounds of training. Current tactics cover night combat, long-range projection, and boarding strikes. Sailors are in stable condition."

"casualties?"

"Three people sustained minor injuries and fractures, but there were no casualties. The medical team is adequate and the food supply is stable."

Louis didn't respond immediately. He tapped his fingers on the table, pondered for a moment, and then said, "Increase the frequency of hot meals for the Knights, and deliver hot soup during the night shift."

Elio points his head.

Finally, there's Rida, who is now the city's dispatcher and one of the first refugees to seek refuge with Louis.

Louis initially discovered her exceptional management skills through the daily intelligence system, and promoted her to the position of temporary coordinator at the Red Tide Territory construction site, gradually working her way up to where she is today.

Wearing formal official robes for the first time, he appeared reserved, but spoke slightly faster than the previous people, as if he was used to switching between multiple tasks.

"The urban area is stable, and the allocation of residential areas, workshops, and markets is proceeding smoothly. There are three bathhouses, two theaters, and two groups each for laundry and hospital. With a population of over three thousand, public security is relatively stable."

"Who else is sleeping outside?"

Ruida shook her head: "Not at the moment, but some laborers are still living in wooden houses, and we are still short of seventy winter houses."

"What's the situation with building materials?"

"There is still 50% of the inventory left."

"Submit the plan to me within three days. If it's not enough, transfer more from Chichao City."

Louis paused, then added, "Don't let people worry about whether the roof will leak during the winter."

Ruida replied, "I've had people keep a close watch on the next couple of nights, paying special attention to the corner areas of the houses. If any stove breaks down, we have spare braziers in our warehouse that can last for a few days."

Louis nodded: "Good job. Keep an eye on things and make sure no one falls behind. Keep an eye on things like the school and the hospital."

“Understood. I’ll double-check with the hospital administrators, and I’ll also check with the school.” Rui Da nodded in response.

After Rui Da sat down, several officials who had not yet reported stood up one after another to report on port patrol scheduling, shipyard logistics, material procurement, and site selection in the outer urban area.

Although their tone was not as seasoned as that of their superiors, their answers were well-organized and reflected their practical experience.

Louis didn't interrupt, but listened quietly, occasionally jotting down a note.

He had been away from Dawn Harbor for some time, but the city had not become lax as a result; on the contrary, it was more orderly than he had expected.

After the last person sat down, Louis looked around and said, "Winter is just around the corner in Dawnport. What we need to complete is not a particular project, but the foundation of the entire Dawnport."

Cities, ports, shipyards, and ordinary people—we cannot afford to relax our efforts. Ensuring everyone gets through the winter safely is our most important task going forward. Although there are many things to do, as long as the plan is clear and the system is well-defined, there is nothing we cannot accomplish.

After the words were spoken, the conference room fell silent for a moment, followed by the rustling sound of chair legs rubbing together.

The officials stood up one after another, first nodding, then applauding in unison.

The meeting then adjourned, and the crowd gradually walked out of the hall. Some whispered among themselves, while others pulled out their notebooks to revise dispatch sheets, their steps quickening.

Once the last footsteps faded into the distance, the hall fell silent again, except for Elliott, who had been kept behind by Louis.

(End of this chapter)