Sir! Don't close the net!

"what happened?"

“No, I was just thinking, Branch Secretary, you are a chosen one, right? For you, wine is just strange-tasting water that won’t make you drunk. If you won’t get drunk, why do you drink it?” Li Yili glanced at the neatly arranged expensive wines on the cart.

He recognized many of them; they were like alcohol with a few drops of water added rather perfunctorily, the kind that would evaporate on its own if not drunk quickly after opening. At that level, drinking them was no different from being tortured.

As for why he knew about these wines, it was because Valkyrie was a heavy drinker. One morning, he saw Valkyrie muttering that she was thirsty while unscrewing the cork and drinking directly from the bottle as if it were water, without taking a breath in between. Then she lay down next to him and continued to sleep, with that breath blowing into his eyes.

He went blind.

“Because I want to get drunk, but I don’t dare to,” Dela Pal tilted her wrist, and the brown liquor poured into the glass that reflected the fireplace firelight.

“Ah~ I understand. The only thing that can make a chosen one of the gods drunk is the divine wine flowing from the Dionysian jug, a first-level heritage. But the divine wine contains the ancient power of the ancient gods. Drinking the divine wine is no different from advancing in rank,” Li Yili picked up the empty wine glass and swirled it. “If one cannot maintain rationality, even the ancient power and knowledge contained in the lowest-level heritage can drive a high-ranking chosen one of the gods mad.”

The principle is the same as arithmetic: whether you add 10 or 1, the moment the number changes, it has nothing to do with the original number.

“But those who drink the divine wine will inevitably become intoxicated, while those favored by the gods must remain rational,” Li Yili said, shrugging her hands as she looked down at her somewhat distorted reflection in the glass. “It really is unreasonable.”

"Because it is divine wine offered to the gods, and those favored by the gods are thieves who have stolen tickets to enter a world that humans should not be able to enter, and who steal things that they should not steal. If it were just weapons that were stolen, [they] would turn a blind eye and might even find it amusing."

"But divine wine is something only [them] can enjoy. Pleasure is something humans shouldn't touch. If they do..."

Della Parr swirled the wine in her glass, the brown liquid...

The body swayed and repeatedly brushed past the rim of the cup as it was shaken.

"Death is a luxury; God's cruelty is beyond human comprehension."

Chapter Twenty-Five [Immigration]

“Isn’t this Mr. Yolan? Do you remember us? We just met a few days ago.”

Al-Jonor sat down next to Yoran with a smile on his face, accompanied by a reluctant-looking Abu Jean.

The respectful greeting left Yolan stunned, momentarily speechless, while the stall owner and Marcel, who had been bickering happily, looked on in surprise.

"Mr. Al-Jonor?"

“Isn’t this Mr. Marcel and Mr. Joe? Long time no see,” Al Jiono nodded. “How have you been lately?”

"Long time no see, long time no see," Joe and Marcel nodded vigorously like chickens pecking at rice, "Thanks to you."

Seeing that Al Jonno and Joe Marcel seemed ready to have a long chat, Yolan subconsciously lowered his head to make himself less noticeable. But to Yolan's surprise, after Al Jonno greeted Joe Marcel, he continued to talk to him.

"Mr. Yolan, what have you thought about what we discussed last time?"

"Huh?" Yoran was taken aback, his mind blank and he couldn't think of anything.

“Immigration,” Al-Jeanor reminded him, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Before Yolan could say anything, Marcel and Joe got excited.

“Yorlan, you’re going a bit too far. You’re keeping such a great thing a secret,” Marcel punched Yolan on the shoulder and waved at Joe. “I know you’re hiding something. Hurry up and bring it up!”

Qiao, who had previously looked like she was saying "That's all," or "I've really bought everything," now quite boldly opened the cabinet and started rummaging around.

Marcel and Joe's sudden enthusiasm made Yolan feel flattered. Just as he was about to say something, Marcel's next sentence made him feel empty.

"Speaking of which, Yoran, your child is already a few months old."

Qiao, who was fiddling with the cabinet, also turned around and looked over.

Yoran swallowed unconsciously, his eyes wandering.

The immigration that Al-Chonno was referring to was moving pregnant women to wealthy areas and guaranteeing them that they could give birth in those areas, thus obtaining local residency and enjoying the benefits they deserved. Once the children reached adulthood and had a basic social standing, the parents would also have a reason to move there.

For the residents of Gowerton, Al Chonow's "immigration" was like a button to defy fate; once confirmed, they would have the opportunity to escape their Gowerton origins.

But in the end, he never told his wife about it, nor did he discuss it with anyone else. He kept it to himself, never forgot about it, and never did anything about it.

“She probably got pregnant now,” El-Jonotejoran replied.

"Hey—is that okay?! My wife was only sent over when she was about to give birth!" Marcel's eyes widened.

“I was also seven months pregnant,” Joe scratched his face, “Isn’t it said that the closer to the due date, the better?”

Yoram opened his mouth.

Now he understands that everyone is living under someone else's roof, and everyone's social status is declining. The reason why Joe and Marcel are more relaxed and confident than him is because their descendants have obtained household registration in a better area than Guoweiton. They have made changes and are no longer the same kind of people in essence.

Marcel's invitation to meet up wasn't just a casual reunion; he wanted to subtly show off this achievement.

“In terms of difficulty, that’s certainly true,” Al Chorno shrugged. “Leaving aside the law enforcement agencies there, the expenses alone are considerable. Before we get residency, we are still residents of Guweiton and cannot enjoy the most basic living security there. So, practically speaking, the closer we are to the birth date, the more likely we are to be able to immigrate.”

Abu Jean lowered his head somewhat guiltily, holding his cup.

Joe and Marcel nodded subconsciously.

The economic level of Guoweiton is far behind that of other regions. The basic expenses of a day in other regions are enough to make them feel the pinch. And that is just the basic expenses. Pregnant women need even more expenses. Moreover, a pregnant woman's health is what it is, and she cannot hide everywhere. The longer she delays, the more likely she is to be discovered by law enforcement and sent back to Guoweiton, resulting in all her efforts being in vain.

“But in terms of expectations, the sooner you go to those areas, the better, ideally during the period right after you conceive,” El-Chonno interlaced his fingers. “Temples affect the local environment, vegetation, air, and animals. The more complete and numerous the temples are, the greater the impact. Take Hagen as an example…”

"People born and raised in Hagen are stronger and smarter than us residents of Guweiton because they have been breathing Hagen's air, eating Hagen's food, and drinking Hagen's water since childhood."

Joe and Marcel unconsciously revealed expressions of pride, because their child was now breathing Hagen's air, eating Hagen's food, and drinking Hagen's water, and their child would be far stronger and smarter than any child born in Guweiton.

“Therefore, it is best to consume the nutrients of the Hagen region from the fetal stage,” Al-Chonno shrugged. “The earlier you start, the more solid the foundation will be. People who are fattened up by Hagen during the fetal stage are the native Hagen people.”

"Really?! Is this really possible?!" Marseille

Er suddenly stood up.

“Yes! Isn’t it said that the longer you stay, the more expensive it becomes, and the more likely you are to be deported?” Joe’s breathing quickened.

“That was before. Recently, some things have happened. Sheep Village has established connections in Hagen and many other regions, so law enforcement will turn a blind eye to some things,” Al-Chonno said with a bright smile. “Sheep Village and Guoweiton share the same fate, and we have decided to help you more with expenses.”

Joe looked at Yolan with envy, while Marcel was so frustrated that he exclaimed that he should have known better than to rush things and have given birth to the child first before getting pregnant again.

Suddenly becoming the envy of everyone present felt somewhat unreal, but the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up in a smile. Her heart began to race, and she lowered her head to scratch the back of her head. "Actually, I haven't..."

“Don’t tell me you’re going to hesitate about something this good,” Marcel said, nudging Yolan with his elbow with a displeased expression. “Do you know how rare this opportunity is?”

"Look at that Wilson. I used to order sweaters from him, and he was all smiles and bows back then. Now I grow flowers at his place, and I'm always bowing and scraping to him. I really don't know if he's doing it on purpose."

Marcel grabbed his glass and chugged down the slightly sour, cheap liquor before slamming the glass down on the table.

"But there's nothing we can do, we can only accept our fate. They're just naturally smart. Saying things like 'I could do it too' is just talk, but in the same situation, we're just like that. We don't have the means, and we don't have the guts. Now, if I accidentally break a flower, I'm so scared that I eat it."

Yoram fell silent.

Marcel is absolutely right. Even if he were given the same conditions as Wilson, he would never have reached Wilson's level. No matter how many years pass or how many opportunities he has, he would only ever be the same.

"That's why we must seize the opportunity. If our children are born in a wealthier, more upscale place, they will definitely succeed when they grow up!"

"They'll definitely be more successful than we are now!"

Yoran, who had been somewhat hesitant, clenched his fists after hearing the last sentence, remembering the coachman who was scorned and dared not speak back, but could only lower his head and accept it.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Future of the Black Goat's Cubs

"Li Yili, what do you want?"

Li Yili, who was swirling an empty wine glass, paused, looked up at Dela Pal, who was surrounded by a pile of empty bottles of various shapes, and tilted her head. "Branch leader, I don't quite understand what you're trying to say."

“You’ve helped me a lot,” Dela Pal leaned down, her elbows resting on her knees.

“I have acquired a ranch that can guarantee me enough to eat and drink,” Li Yili shrugged. “Although Valhou Lei has a big appetite, I can still feed only her. You might not believe it, but this woman is very sensible.”

“I will soon become an executive and leave Guoweidun, never to return. You don’t plan to leave with me, do you?”

Dera Pal slowly turned his head to the left, his eerie green eyes gleaming. The empty bottles around his feet began to tremble, and as the frequency increased, the crisp clinking gradually turned into a sharp squeaking sound, like a mouse. Even the rim of the glass in Li Yili's hand began to shake.

Li Yili exhaled softly and casually set the cup aside. "The world of cadres is not something I can get involved in."

Dela Pal will become a cadre, a true cadre of the old days, not just a minister in a wealthier region that can produce more wealth. The head of the black goats' offspring is a cadre. If he goes with them, he will most likely die. Even if he can get more benefits, he will not be able to enjoy them with peace of mind.

“You are the only person I can trust,” Dela Pal sighed with regret, the light in her eyes fading, and the empty wine bottle clattered to the ground.

Before Li Yili could speak, he picked up the wine bottle and began pouring wine into the glass.

“I… am flattered,” Li Yili said, leaning back on the sofa and glancing sideways at the flames in the fireplace.

Dela Pal was indeed good to him. If Dela Pal were not one of the old friends, he would probably have already performed a knee-breaking act to show his loyalty in front of Dela Pal.

“The séance will fail completely, but fortunately it won’t fail because of an accident during the ceremony, but because it can’t even be performed,” Dela Pal said, swirling her wine glass.

"Neither the Eden Crusade nor Valhalla in the Nibelungs will pay attention to Guo Weiton; everything will remain the same."

"We will not give up on Guo Weidun, which we have invested so many resources in, but a complete failure will also make us lose all hope for Guo Weidun. To put it nicely, we will let the logistics company Yangcun lie dormant; to put it bluntly, the black goat's offspring will exist in name only."

"When I leave, I will definitely appoint the next branch manager. As an officer, it is easy to appoint the manager of a disbanded department. This new manager... from the perspective of life's work, is a miserable job where whoever takes the position will have their career end. I was thinking that if you are willing to leave Guoweiton with me, I would let Al-Jiong take the position of the young manager of this hopeless black goat, and let him be trapped in this place for the rest of his life, without giving him the opportunity to transfer."

Li Yili's eye twitched.

This

This tactic sounds familiar, doesn't it? Isn't this the classic face-slapping trope from a wish-fulfillment novel?

Capable executives not only get screwed over by their superiors, but also have to take the blame. They try their best to make up for the company's losses, but are obstructed in various ways. Every chance for a turnaround is destroyed by powerful figures. They can only watch helplessly as all the potential of the department they love is monopolized by their superiors. In the end, they are also suppressed by their departing superiors in the department whose potential has been squeezed dry.

What followed was mostly El-Qinor pulling the strings, forcibly lifting the half-abandoned black goat's cub back into the view of the higher-ups.

And El-Jonor probably really does have that ability. He can tell that El-Jonor is a tough guy who will never give up and is particularly good at causing trouble.

"Of course, this is on the premise that the black goat's offspring do not have anyone I trust. For me, the only purpose of the black goat's offspring is to torment someone."

Li Yili, who was swirling the empty wine glass, paused.

"If there is anyone I trust among the young of the black goat, I will definitely appoint him as the new minister. Of course, this is on the premise that the other party will not harbor any resentment. After all, following me is nothing more than hoping that I can leave Guoweiton after I become an official. They are busy for me, but in the end they will be trapped in Guoweiton and die. Besides a normal life, Yun Duo will be half-dead with anger."

Dela Pal tilted her head and stared at Li Yili, as if waiting for something.

After a brief silence, a few crisp popping sounds came from the fireplace.

Li Yili pursed her lips and spread her hands, "Look here, look here, there's someone here who's willing to stay in Guoweiton. He's probably the only person you trust, Branch Chief. Don't worry, Branch Chief, I guarantee I won't give Al Qiaonuo any chance to be transferred out of Guoweiton. He'll only ever be able to run errands and copy meaningless ledgers under my command for the rest of his life."

“Then let’s discuss how to ensure that Al Jiono doesn’t cause any trouble in Guweiton,” Dela Pal set her glass aside, rested her elbows on her knees, and let her hands hang naturally at her sides. “What do you think we should do?”

Li Yili raised an eyebrow. He admitted that he couldn't quite see through the man in front of him anymore, but at this moment, the truth was often more useful than a lie made up on the spot.

"First, we need to reduce the proportion of young black goats and focus more on the work in the goat village. No matter how much success the goat village achieves or how much money it makes, it is meaningless to the rest of the life. It may even be looked down upon by other departments for being idle and not having any work assigned by the rest of the life. No matter how capable Al-Qiong is, he can only choose to lie low."

"Without the request of assignment, Al-Jean-Baptiste will never be able to do anything big. Even if he requests a transfer, he will not be willing to risk offending an executive to accept someone who has caused such a big plan to fail and has achieved nothing since."

Li Yili raised her finger and bent it.

"Of course, to avoid any unexpected incidents where Al-Jonor makes a name for himself, I suggest we start fixing the loopholes in the Guoweiton ledger system, cut off the transportation channels that Al-Jonor frequently uses, and actively contact the checkpoints in the areas that our transportation channels can reach. We need to pay more attention to this matter of smuggling."

Li Yili narrowed her eyes slightly.