Sir! Don't close the net!

Among the many merchants in the Cretaceous Circle, Tipor Eugene is quite unique. Perhaps tired of the infighting, Tipor Eugene's operating model is closer to balance, balancing the power of each merchant in the Cretaceous Circle to prevent one side from becoming too powerful and dragging the Cretaceous Circle into endless struggle, thus maintaining a win-win situation.

Li Yili found Tipor Eugene's idea very interesting. When businessmen become ruthless, they can be even more vicious than the thugs in the Jurassic Circle. However, without a true leader being chosen, the secret struggles among businessmen will never stop, and their behavior will gradually become more extreme.

However, Tipor Eugene's abilities are limited. Wanting to do something means his energy will be scattered and he will be constantly drawn into turmoil. This will inevitably limit his own development. But limiting his own development is a minor issue. The main problem is that he will attract hatred. If many businessmen reach a consensus that they will expand their assets by any means necessary, Tipor Eugene will become their common enemy.

So he handed those proposals to Tipor Eugene.

Tibor Eugene did not disappoint him, nor himself. He successfully rose to prominence, expanding his base in the Cretaceous region while firmly securing those bases. He suppressed other merchants with absolute advantage, achieving a balance and the current peace and tranquility.

Chapter 100 A Journey Not in the Name of Justice

"Give--"

Carly placed the two shotguns on the railing with a blank expression and handed them to Ryan outside the railing.

Ryan and his henchmen stared wide-eyed at the sight of the rather ferocious-looking shotguns between the railings.

"What's wrong? Changed your mind?" Carly pulled her gun back.

"how come--"

Ryan was startled and instinctively pulled the shotgun back.

The heavy, cold touch made Ryan feel somewhat dazed. Recalling his past experiences using guns in the Jurassic Circle, Ryan awkwardly pulled back the magazine of his shotgun. Looking at the empty magazine, Ryan suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

Is there anything else?

“No… wait! I have another question,” Ryan gripped the empty shotgun tightly in his hand, “Carly, when are you planning to give your next speech?”

"Ok?"

“That’s right, the conflict between the residents of the San Die Quan area and the homeless is getting bigger and bigger, but there are still many homeless people who don’t understand the situation and are focused on their own small groups. I think we really need to unite the homeless people and tell the residents of San Die Quan area and some homeless people who don’t understand the situation that the homeless people in the entire San Die Quan area are now united as one,” Ryan gestured with his hands.

“Well… um, I understand, I’m considering it,” Carly nodded.

“Hmm—no wonder she’s Carly, the guide who liberated us homeless people from the oppression of the Triple Circle residents,” Ryan praised, then leaned closer to the railing. “If you’re planning to give another speech, be sure to let us know, in case a Triple Circle resident does something bad in a moment of impulse, it would be terrible.”

“Okay, I understand,” Carly replied, her expression unchanged, but she turned her head slightly to one side.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Inside the Jurassic Circle Hotel.

Dante sat cross-legged in the chair where Li Yili usually sat, arms crossed, brows furrowed as he pondered Wojciech's behavior and words. But no matter how he changed his perspective, he couldn't understand Wojciech's incongruous actions.

There seemed to be a wall between him and Watch, and it was this wall that prevented him from seeking the truth.

I said—

Almost instinctively, Dante turned his head to ask Li Yili for advice, but he only saw an empty and somewhat deserted corridor.

Dante then realized that Li Yili and the others had already gone to the Cretaceous Circle, and now he was all alone.

"Ha—this is a real headache," Dante raised his hand and scratched the back of his head hard, then put his hands behind his head and stared straight at the ceiling.

Although he was the son of Mafia godfather Norman and seemingly second only to him, he was actually more shrewd than anyone else.

Chu, the Jurassic Circle is a world of thugs, and his father, Godfather Norman, is the most thuggish of thugs. In the eyes of thugs, there is only themselves and their organization. If they are in the way of themselves or their organization, they will not hesitate to kill even their own blood relatives.

Therefore, the identity of the godfather's son can only scare the small thugs in the Jurassic circle and get some officials to give him face on some unimportant matters.

This war, which could break out at any moment, is not the intention of the Jurassic Circle Mafia, but rather driven by the will of the entire Jurassic Circle. Even if he were to replace his own father as the Godfather as quickly as possible, he would only be dragged forward by the wheel of fate.

Unless you kill everyone in the entire Jurassic Circle.

But this is just something to think about jokingly; even if he actually started killing, he would only get riddled with bullets.

Dante then considered the speculation that Li Yili and Anne's Cretaceous and Jurassic circles might have joined forces.

"Speaking of which... why did the Jurassic Circle have to start a war?"

Dante blinked and answered his own question.

"Conflict with the capital's Millennium?"

"But the entire Jurassic Circle is under the control of the gangs. The wasteland royal family and nobles only exchange a few harsh words, and they have paid protection money in private. The gangs in the Jurassic Circle are no longer the same people who wanted to overthrow the wasteland royal family."

"A conflict with the Cretaceous?"

"The conflict is so great that it could lead to war... how could they possibly join forces?"

Dante's face scrunched up; the more he thought, the more chaotic his thoughts became.

After pondering for a long time, Dante not only failed to find a breakthrough but also got himself tangled up in a mess. He finally decided to take a break and stroll around the streets, hoping that he would have an epiphany during his walk.

With a somewhat resigned attitude, Dante left the inn, wandered aimlessly with his hands behind his back, and scanned the pedestrians on the street.

They are the residents here, the thugs, the potential criminals. Even a six-year-old child could become a terrible criminal in the next second. This is not an exaggeration.

But perhaps because this trip wasn't about upholding justice, but simply about clearing his mind and finding new ideas, Dante suddenly felt that the pedestrians on the street weren't so... hateful after all.

Dante found it both novel and incredible.

He was a bastard in the past, and with his father being the godfather of the Mafia, he fit the wasteland's image of Jurassic Circle residents better than anyone else: a thug with criminal blood flowing in his veins, and he was proud of the criminal blood flowing in his veins.

Birds of a feather flock together. He was this kind of person, and everyone he came into contact with was like this. The Jurassic Circle had gathered all such people together. So when he finally had an epiphany and began to carry out justice within the Jurassic Circle in order to become a good person who could pursue Ashley, in his eyes, all the residents of the Jurassic Circle were evil beings who needed to be punished.

After wandering around for a while, Dante came to a fruit stand, picked up an apple, tossed it around, and waved to a middle-aged man sitting not far away, eating from a small iron bowl. "Boss, the fruit looks pretty good. Aren't you afraid someone will snatch it up if you leave it out there?"

The middle-aged man ate a couple of mouthfuls of rice, held the iron basin in his left hand, and pulled a watermelon knife from under the chair with his right hand, pointing it in Dante's direction. "Even if I die, I will break the hands of the person who dared to do such a thing."

"Is it really that exaggerated...?"

Dante put down the apple and genuinely felt that for a moment the inhabitants of the Jurassic Circle might not be as bad as he had imagined, and that he himself was very naive.

Even a seemingly honest and kind fruit stall owner can turn into a thug over some trivial matters that should be laughed off.

"They were trying to stab me to death, so of course I had to disarm them," the boss said, putting down the watermelon knife and continuing to eat his rice.

"Stab you to death? It's just because I stole an apple from you," Dante said, intrigued. "Is it really worth it?"

"You think you can sell a few apples a day? The one that gets snatched away might just be the one someone else buys. If I lose the money from just one apple, my whole family might not be able to make ends meet," the shopkeeper rolled his eyes.

Dante tilted his head. "It's too much to say you can't make ends meet. There's so much fruit... Hmm, I can eat it all myself, cough—actually, I've always had a dream of having my own fruit stand, where I can eat whatever I want every day!"

After a moment of silence, the owner put down the iron basin in his hand. "When did I ever say that the fruit here was mine?"

"Uh……"

"Ultimately, have you ever seen an orchard in the Jurassic Circle?"

Chapter 101 Sweet but Hard to Swallow

Dante stood frozen in place, remaining silent for a long while before crossing his arms and beginning to recall the events earnestly.

The Jurassic Circle is the second largest wasteland after the Triassic Circle. While he hasn't explored every corner of the Jurassic Circle, he frequently wanders around it, especially after encountering Ashley. Wanting to become a good person worthy of pursuing Ashley, he diligently cultivates his reputation for justice within the Jurassic Circle, striving to equate the name Dante with conscience and justice within the circle.

But no matter how hard Dante tried to recall, he couldn't find the orchard the boss had mentioned.

Where did this boss get his fruit from?

"Have you ever seen a cornfield?" the shopkeeper asked again, noticing Dante frowning in thought.

Have you ever seen a ranch?

Have you ever seen crops?

"You have

Have you ever seen a vegetable field?

Under the boss's machine-gun-like questioning, Dante's expression gradually froze. He felt that things that should exist in the Jurassic Circle were constantly disappearing from his cognition due to the boss's questioning and his memories.

Have you ever... seen a forest?

Dante suddenly raised his head, looked around, and opened his mouth slightly.

"It seems you haven't seen it before. By the way, I haven't either. I've always wanted to know what an apple tree looks like and how it differs from a peach tree," the shopkeeper said, picking up the plate again and pointing to the chalk circle city wall as Dante seemed to have just woken up from a dream.

"I heard that there are large orchards, pastures, vegetable fields, and cornfields that look like gold mines in the Cretaceous Circle."

“And we… only have stalls and business,” the owner glanced at Dante and shook his head.

After a long moment of stunned silence, Dante finally came to his senses, tilted his head back, and paced back and forth, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"This is probably the first time a mafia boss who spends his days idly playing superhero games has ever heard of something like this," the shopkeeper said, tapping the edge of the metal basin with his spoon.

Dante's expression froze. He wanted to loudly emphasize to the fruit stand owner that he wasn't idle every day or playing a hero game, but he felt guilty because he didn't even know the common knowledge that there were no fruit orchards in the Jurassic Circle.

“Cough—I thought the Jurassic Circle mainly relied on…the arms trade,” Dante said, scratching the back of his head and laughing somewhat awkwardly.

"Arms business? Arms can't fill your stomach. Besides us, where else can we sell arms?" The boss mumbled after taking a bite of rice. "Young master, don't tell me you don't know how tightly the gangs control the arms trade. Even if we wanted to do arms business, we wouldn't have the chance. We can delay paying living expenses, but we can't delay paying protection money. The gangs are counting on the protection money and cuts we pay to manufacture arms."

"How can we survive if we don't do other business? Eat bullets? I'd love to, but even if I had the money, I couldn't buy them."

Dante frowned. "This isn't funny."

"Whether it's funny or not, you, the young master of the mafia, have no right to judge."

The boss retorted quite bluntly, and Dante was at a loss for words, holding back for a while before turning around and picking up the apple.

"So you're making a living off merchants in the Cretaceous region? Although I don't know the market rates, these fruits, things that the Jura region doesn't have and can't produce, certainly aren't free. The gangs keep collecting protection money and spending money to manufacture weapons, while the Cretaceous region keeps taking a cut. The Jura region isn't like Hagen in the Nibelungen, which has an inexhaustible gold mine that can produce money indefinitely."

Dante paused for a moment and then muttered under his breath, "There aren't many tourists wandering around the Jurassic Circle anymore."

"I'm barely making ends meet, do you think I care where Jurassic Circle gets its money?" The shopkeeper rolled his eyes. "Why don't you ask me why Jurassic Circle keeps its weapons so tightly under wraps, afraid of even a drop leaking out, yet keeps producing them? Where did all those weapons go?"

"Anyway, my answer is only one: I don't know."

Dante raised his hand to his forehead, and in just a few minutes, he was choked several times, yet he still didn't know how to choke back.

Because Dante maintained an attitude of "I'm furious, but I'm in the wrong, so I'm holding it in," the boss became interested. "So what game is the young master of the mafia planning to play this time?"

“I…I’m not playing a game, believe it or not, I’m serious,” Dante grinned.

"Is that so? Then Mr. Dante, the righteous one, should wake up too," the shopkeeper put the iron basin aside and casually picked up an apple and threw it in Dante's direction.

Dante reached out and caught the apple, glancing at the iron bowl the shopkeeper had set down. Not a single grain of rice remained; the bowl was completely empty.

"What do you mean?"

"Literally, in dreams everything is beautiful, but nothing is real; in reality, nothing is perfect, but at least it's real," the boss waved his hand, "Take the apples and get out of here."

"It's a forced sale."

"This is a gift, and it's genuine."

After saying that, the boss turned around, picked up the newspaper, and did not intend to continue the conversation with Dante.