Hello, is this a letter addressed to Demon Fortress?

The transport team selection meeting will begin one hour before it starts.

The guild's officials began to restore order.

Staff members dressed in uniform armor lined up from both sides of the preparation area, their steps synchronized, their boots making a dull thud on the Starstone ground.

They set up a barrier between the stands and the preparation area, with one person standing every ten steps, hands behind their backs, facing the audience with expressionless faces.

Several spectators who tried to push their way forward across the barrier were stopped and turned back.

A drunken adventurer, cursing and shoving, was grabbed by two staff members, one on each side, and dragged out.

The scene quieted down a bit.

In the distance, on the road deliberately separated by the Transport Guild members, four figures appeared.

The chaotic scene gradually quieted down.

It wasn't that someone was shouting for quiet, but rather that a sense of oppression emanated from the very core of everyone, like an invisible hand pressing down on everyone's throat.

The leader was a burly man.

He looked to be in his early fifties, but everyone knew that he was actually over a hundred years old.

His short, graying hair, square face, and a scar running diagonally from his brow bone to his jawline on his left cheek made his already dignified face appear even more imposing.

Beneath his dark gray clothes, the contours of his muscles were clearly visible, and every step he took carried a calm and collected air of someone who had been through many battles.

Vice-Chief of the Transport Guild, Epic Mid-Rank Warrior, King of Mercenaries, Aldric.

A tall, thin man walked slightly behind him, about half a step behind.

The dark hood was pulled down low, revealing only the lower half of his face.

His skin was pale, his lips were thin, and he exuded a gloomy aura.

His steps were very light, his boots making almost no sound on the ground, like a cat walking silently.

Transport Guild Intelligence Minister, Epic Low-Rank Ranger, Eye of the Thousand Paths, Turan.

Behind the two men followed two trembling figures.

Walking a little ahead was Tobias, the branch president of the Coppergate City Transport Association.

A legendary figure of mid-tier strength, a man whose every stomp in Copper Gate City would cause tremors.

At this moment, however, he resembled a dog with its tail between its legs, his back slightly bent, his steps hurried, and fine beads of sweat already seeping from his forehead.

One step behind him was Cassius, the branch president of the Copper Gate City Magic Guild.

Both are legendary mid-tier players.

But at this moment, Cassius's face was as white as paper, his lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes kept darting around.

His eyelids drooped, and he dared not look at the two people in front of him, but he would raise them from time to time, as if to make sure that he had not lost them.

Each time he lifted his head, another layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The person who originally came should have been the hidden tower master who was about to break through to the epic level.

but......

We want to know the price the transport guild paid to get that spot.

His back was soaked with cold sweat.

The four people walked to the edge of the preparation area.

The transport association staff along the route all lowered their heads and stepped aside to make way for a wider path.

The staff led them across the docking platform to a temporary stage built with magic in the center.

The platform was two meters above the ground, covered with a deep red carpet, and a pillar in the center was carved with the logo of the Transport Association.

The moment Aldrick stepped onto the stage, all the members of the participating transport teams on the platform knelt down on one knee.

Those below the legendary level all knelt down.

Several legendary team leaders standing beside the transport vehicle also bowed slightly, placed their right hands on their chests, and performed a guild salute.

No one ordered them.

No one was chanting slogans.

It was a heartfelt reverence for the strong.

Aldrick raised his right hand and waved it gently.

"stand up."

The sound wasn't loud, but everyone on the entire docking platform could hear it clearly.

Everyone stood up.

Aldrick looked around, his gaze sweeping over the transport vehicles.

His brow furrowed slightly.

The parking platform is large enough to accommodate over two hundred large transport vehicles.

But at this moment, there were only about forty cars scattered around.

Even the parking spaces are not full.

His gaze shifted from the transport vehicles to the sign in front of the parking area.

The order in which the transport vehicles are arranged on the parking platform is based on the level they are competing for.

The front row, directly facing the podium, is occupied by the Sun-class.

There were zero cars parked there.

It was empty, there was nothing there.

Aldrick's gaze lingered on the open space for a moment.

Then he turned his head and looked at Cassius next to him.

I only glanced at it.

There was no expression, no movement.

Cassius's face paled instantly.

He quickly lowered his head, bending even deeper, almost to a ninety-degree angle.

Turan also glanced at Cassius.

No expression, no words.

He just gave a soft "humph".

The sound was very soft, so soft that it was almost inaudible.

But Cassius's body trembled violently, and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and onto the carpet.

His lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Aldrick looked away and glanced at the second row.

Bright Moon level.

There were three transport trucks parked there.

Each one was enormous, with a body length at least five times that of the Morning Star transport vehicle behind it.

The runes on the car body were denser and darker in color, gleaming with a dull light in the sunlight.

Like a three-headed, crouching giant beast.

Further on, it's the Morning Star level.

Thirty-eight transport vehicles were neatly arranged, almost all of the same size and type.

The badges on the vehicles are varied, but the specifications of the vehicles are all the same.

Turan looked at the Morning Star-level transport vehicles, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"I guess it'll be the same as before."

His voice wasn't loud, but Tobias, who was standing next to him, heard it clearly.

"One hundred tons, not a single pound less."

"A little more would be like taking their lives."

Tobias quickly stepped forward, a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

"Lord Turan is right."

He rubbed his hands together and lowered his voice.

"We know that those dwarves tampered with the transport vehicles."

"The carriage looks big, but the actual load-bearing space has been compressed quite a bit."

"Those teams participating in Morning Star are practically willing to shred the train cars thinner just to reduce weight."

He got more and more excited as he spoke, spittle flying everywhere.

"Look at those cars behind, the runes on their bodies are engraved too lightly, it's obvious they cut corners..."

Turan turned his head and gave him a cold look.

There was no emotion in those gloomy eyes.

Tobias's voice abruptly stopped.

His mouth was still open, the smile on his face frozen in place, and then slowly faded away.

He lowered his head and obediently shut his mouth.

A legendary figure, the branch president who is at the height of his power in Copper Gate City.

At this moment, he looked like a student being punished, with his hands hanging at his sides, his waist slightly bent, and he didn't dare to breathe loudly.

Aldrick ignored the commotion behind him.

He stepped forward and stood in front of the podium, facing the magical megaphone.

His gaze swept over the fewer than forty transport vehicles.

He was silent for a moment.

Then he sighed.

"Let's begin the weighting."

There was an uproar all around.

Even the staff standing next to the podium didn't react in time.

A young recorder stood frozen in place, forgetting to even move the quill in his hand.

In the past, before the selection process began, this highly respected mercenary king would say many polite words.

Thank you to the adventurers who traveled from various cities thousands of miles away.

Thank you to the staff who organized the selection event for their hard work.

Thank you to everyone in the city for their preparations for this selection event.

There were sets of official platitudes like these.

Everyone was prepared to listen to him talk for half an hour.

This time, however, he didn't waste any words.

Start balancing immediately.

In the stands, the spectators looked at each other in bewilderment.

Someone muttered under their breath.

"How come... it's starting already?"

The person next to him shook his head and sighed.

"Last year's severe damage led to a 50% drop in the number of applicants this year."

"Even the deputy chief of staff is too lazy to be polite."

"What's there to say? hardly anyone showed up."

On the docking platform, the staff began their work.

The process of counterweighting is not complicated, but it is extremely tedious.

Each transport vehicle needs to be loaded with a standard weight, and they need to transport the weight to the corresponding city-state before returning.

As long as you successfully complete the transport with all the heavy loads intact, you can become a true transport team.

The standard for Morning Star is one hundred tons.

One hundred tons of iron ingots were neatly stacked on specially made wooden pallets and secured with thick iron chains.

Workers operated a small lifting platform to lift pallets of heavy objects and slowly place them into the cargo compartment of the transport vehicle.

Each time a tray is placed, a recorder is present to register its weight.

One hundred tons, not a pound less, not a pound more.

The standard for a Haoyue-class vessel is one thousand tons.

The three enormous transport trucks were filled layer upon layer with iron ingots, which were piled high and secured to the roof with steel cables.

The suspension system of the wheels was pressed down, but the vehicle body remained completely still.

The standard for a Lieyang-class vessel is 10,000 tons.

There was nothing on that empty parking spot.

There were no vehicles, no heavy objects, and no staff.

There was only a blank, sun-baked, scorching surface of starstone.

The selection of transport teams is based on the amount of ballast and the degree of danger of the transport route, thus differentiating their ranks.

How much it can carry determines how far it can travel, what dangerous routes it can take, and its corresponding status is accordingly high.

The difference in status between the bright moon and the morning star is like the weight it can bear.

One bright moon is worth ten morning stars.

In terms of compensation, the welfare benefits of the Transport Guild resources, and the priority of mission levels, everything is ten times better than Morning Star.

The same applies to the blazing sun and the bright moon.

A leader of the Sun-level team can even gain voting rights in the Alliance Council.

The entire Thousand Pagodas only has about thirty seats.

However, Lieyang has not applied for the transportation team selection for five years.

the reason is simple.

Apart from the three Fiery Suns that were selected at the beginning of the guild's establishment, all the others who were selected later died on the most dangerous transport missions within a year.

Almost everyone who participated knew this.

The cause of Lieyang's death was less an accident and more a result of human intervention.

Other high-ranking members of the alliance were unwilling to see the Transport Guild produce another Undying Sun.

After all, the power of the Undying Sun was too great, even surpassing that of the nobles who had existed for thousands of years.

In the stands, the audience began to whisper among themselves.

A middle-aged adventurer in leather armor pointed at the empty Sunfire Parking Lot and frowned.

"Wait a minute, didn't one of the Blazing Suns sign up this time?"

The person next to him turned his head.

"Is there?"

"Yes! I remember it very clearly!"

The middle-aged adventurer raised his voice slightly.

"The preliminary selection process hadn't even started when it was reported by major newspapers."

"Especially the Magic Guild Gazette published by the Magic Guild, the name was something like... Arthur's Transport Team..."

Another person interrupted.

"Not one, but two."

"It seems one of them changed its race route yesterday, switching from Morning Star to Sunfire."

"What was it called again...?"

He frowned and thought for a long time.

"I think it's called something like... Seven Coins Post Office?"

The middle-aged adventurer was taken aback.

"Seven-Coin Post Office?"

He repeated it twice, his brows furrowing even more deeply.

"Hmm... I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before? It sounds a lot like the one in the refugee district..."

"Oh, right, I remember someone bet almost two hundred million gold coins on that team!"

"Two hundred million gold coins?"

The people next to them gasped.

This amount is estimated to be only achievable by the wealthiest noble families in Copper Gate City.

"According to people who were there at the time, it was a very beautiful blonde woman who placed the bet."

"They went straight through the VIP channel without even blinking."

The middle-aged adventurer looked at the empty Sunfire Parking Lot and asked in confusion.

"Then why weren't any transport vehicles stopped at Lieyang?"

"They've already started adding weights."

No one could answer him.

On the docking platform, the burly employees continued their work.

Pallets of heavy goods were lifted and loaded into the cargo compartments of transport vehicles.

The sounds of clashing iron ingots, the clanging of iron chains, and the counting of the recorder echoed across the dock.

Time passed by, second by second.

The sunlight on the stands changed from slanting to direct.

The shadow shrank to a tiny dot at my feet.

There was still half an hour before the selection meeting officially began.

On the docking platform, the last pallet of iron ingots was hoisted into the cargo compartment of the last Morningstar transport vehicle.

The sound of the chains turning stopped.

The recorder made the final mark in the register, straightened up, and nodded to the overseer beside him.

All transport vehicles are now fully loaded.

One hundred tons, one thousand tons, not a fraction of a cent.

The personnel involved in the transportation lined up from the side of the carriages and stood neatly in front of their respective locomotives.

Some people crossed their arms, some stood with their hands at their sides, and some raised their chins slightly.

Their gazes fell on the podium, their expressions varied. Some were nervous, some were expectant, and some were trying to appear calm.

Tobias stood up from his seat.

He straightened his collar, took a deep breath, and winked at the two legendary warriors beside him who were wearing the same standard armor.

The two nodded and followed him down the steps from the side of the podium.

The staff member jogged up to greet us, carrying a thick stack of registration forms, and handed them over with both hands.

Tobias took it, turned to the first page, and led the two toward a Morning Star transport vehicle in the last row.