There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

If Miss Elliott were a boxer at this moment, she would definitely unleash a barrage of punches—"How dare you presume my gender?", "I am not weak", "Disgusting remnants of patriarchy", and "Shivering in the sweltering heat"—leaving him utterly helpless.

Fortunately, Miss Elliott had not learned this unparalleled martial art of creating waves from nothing by using her left hand to assist her right hand. She simply looked at her fiancé with an expression of relief, waiting for him to nod.

Mr. Stuart seemed to snap out of his daze. "Thank you for reminding me, kind sir! I'll take her upstairs to rest right away!"

After saying that, he asked his fiancée, "Honey, what happened to the suitcase we had when we left? The one with all the travel clothes in it?"

"Uh……"

Miss Elliott, who was feigning dizziness, was momentarily stunned, and the three-bedroom apartment beneath her feet began to develop into a duplex.

Even I couldn't stand it anymore, so I quickly chimed in, "Uh... I guess it was left on the boat and they forgot to take it down? Right?"

Miss Elliott was overjoyed. "Ah...yes, yes, yes! On Captain Kay's yacht!"

"Okay, I'll go get it right away!"

Stuart was ruthless enough to immediately turn around and rush out of the tavern, but Miss Elliott, who was pretending to be unconscious, could only cling to him like an octopus, trying to delay his departure.

This attempt to cover up the truth had left the three people present so embarrassed they were practically digging a townhouse out of the ground, but Stuart remained completely oblivious, as if he were blind to it.

At this moment, Kai finally couldn't stand it anymore and stopped Stuart, who was about to leave, saying, "You guys stay here, I'll go get your things!"

Then he whispered to Boss Dart, "Boss, hurry up and figure out what happened, I'll stall for time..."

As he spoke, he pushed the tall and burly Stuart inside, easily dragging both of them several steps.

The people of the Navigators' Alliance are indeed monsters.

"Great! Let the captain go get the stuff! We don't need to go!"

Unlike Miss Elliott's relieved expression, Stuart looked regretful, as if he had missed something once in a lifetime.

...What are you regretting?! You look exactly like Che Guevara, the car thief who failed to steal the car, you know that?!

…………

"Miss, why don't you let him go back to the ship?"

After Stuart went up ahead to prepare hot water for travelers from afar to wash up, we finally got a chance to speak alone with Miss Elliott, who had a furtive look on her face.

"Speak." I sat back down in the chair, leaned back, and glanced at the other person sideways, adopting the posture I usually use during interrogations.

“Say…say what…” Miss Elliott stammered.

I sighed softly, "Stop it, Ah Zu, there's a furniture store outside, and it's full of Jackie Chan merchandise..."

These words, spoken with an irrefutable tone, shattered her psychological defenses—though, given her mental fortitude, they were hardly a defense.

Elliott said dejectedly, "Actually, I... forgot to bring something..."

"What is it?" I suddenly had a bad feeling.

Elliott said quietly, "I forgot all the materials I used for the interview on the South Island..."

I said dismissively, "Oh, so you just forgot to bring the documents? What's so shameful about that? Besides, you should have looked through them once you got them, so you probably remember some of the information, right?"

In the oral interview just now, she has already demonstrated a fairly solid shorthand and sketching ability. As a formal reporter, surely she can't be so fast that her brain can't keep up, and her only advantage is that she can run fast?

Young Miss Elliott bit her lower lip and uttered a few words with difficulty: "But... I really haven't seen the information..."

Mr. Dart frowned, looking suspicious, and said, "Hmm? As far as I know, Federal Television holds a meeting before approving an interview project to introduce information to the entire team. They shouldn't be completely unaware of anything, right?"

My bad feeling grew stronger. Could it be that there's something wrong with this person?

"Actually, I didn't pass the exam to become a full-time reporter; I'm still an intern..."

Under our watchful eyes, Elliott, his face contorted with grief, crossed his arms, tears welling in his eyes. "I missed the interview with my subject during the previous exam and lost my chance to get a permanent position... This opportunity was something I tricked from a friend who was getting a permanent position. I want to prove that I have the ability to conduct independent interviews as a journalist..."

"No, no... Let me sort this out..."

I waved my hands in the air for a while, trying to clear my head. "You said before that the intern reporter who accompanied you was sick, so your fiancé came instead... So the truth is that you are the intern reporter, and the one who couldn't come because of the illness was the full-time reporter..."

What a clever trick of switching the beams and pillars! This half-truth and half-lies made it impossible for me to see any flaws in her work skills.

With a toothache, I asked, "Then there must be another reason why you forgot to bring it, right? Otherwise, forgetting just one suitcase wouldn't cause such a fuss..."

Miss Elliott whispered, "The journalist is a good friend of mine. I just gave her some diarrhea medicine, and she'll be fine in a couple of days. My plan was to return victorious by the time she arrived... but then this unexpected thing happened..."

"You really know how to mess with your best friend."

She looked distressed. "So I can't let Stuart know, because I'm afraid he'll contact my friend alone and my lie to him will be exposed..."

Huh? Your fiancé has been contacting your best friend alone, is this still something to expose? Aren't you thinking a little off track?

Mr. Dart looked at her in shock: "I was wondering why you two had been sitting here chatting for so long without even a single topic... Turns out you don't know anything except the names of the people you're interviewing!"

Uh, so "the famous Mr. Marcus" is actually this kind of "famous" person—the kind you know nothing about except his name...

"Boss, congratulations on getting two extra customers for no reason, and you've also acquired four underground properties..."

In this wave, Dart's owner may become the biggest winner.

Seeing Mr. Dart's smirking expression, I immediately stood up and moved closer to him. "But boss, where did you get the extra rooms upstairs?"

I counted on my fingers and showed it to Mr. Dart.

"Cliff has one room, and Kay has one room, so there are only two rooms in total, right? Whose room did Stuart go up to clean?"

Mr. Dart's expression instantly turned one of utter shock, as if struck by lightning, staring incredulously at the two fingers I had extended.

That feeling of surprise was almost like someone sitting in Chengdu, delivering the sad news of Liu Bei's arrival from Jingzhou—it was just short of saying, "Impossible! My second brother is invincible!"

Boss, stop calculating. If we don't count the property we just extracted, you really only have two rooms here. Although you were very clever in getting out of that predicament earlier, you look really pathetic now that you can't make any money.

Chapter 594 Magic Output and Physical Damage

Miss Eliot's actions taught us that action is the key to changing the world. With enough courage, the world can change; with enough effort, dreams can come true; and with enough hard work, even the dead can breathe.

I have no problem with her shady tactics. It's just poisoning, a standard business practice. In a country dominated by free capitalism, she can use it without any psychological burden.

The surreal reality has shown us that high-level business warfare only requires the simplest physical means. You might imagine business warfare to be about multi-faceted infiltration, brainstorming, instant reversals, bloodless battles, and millions at stake in minutes.

But the reality is that I'll just smash it down in the elevator. If we can stand up, we'll either go to jail; if we can't, we'll go to the hospital. Let's part ways amicably.

These hardcore "business tactics" include, but are not limited to, poisoning, circumventing firewalls, leading groups to steal seals, and Thomson ripple walking. You think business is about financial literacy? No, the real big shots are competing in martial arts.

So what was supposed to be a magical contest turned out to be a physical attack.

It's not shabby to earn money.

"Your plan is full of flaws, but it's damn simple and effective..."

I covered my face and looked at the young woman in front of me, speechless, and asked her, "So how do you plan to wrap this up? To be honest, I don't know what I have to offer that's worth interviewing, let alone what your TV station's purpose is. You've just made a wasted trip."

In the journalism profession, being fast is a good thing, but if you run too fast and your brain can't keep up, that's nothing to be proud of.

I suggested, "Why don't you call the station and ask about the interview content?"

Miss Elliott shook her head vigorously. "No way! To prevent leaks and malicious competition from our peers, our reporting project operates on a project-based system. Only the reporter who receives the assignment knows the main content. If I, as an intern, were to make the call, I'd be exposed immediately..."

The onlooker stroked his beard and said, "Do you have any other solutions? You can wait, but if your friends notice something's wrong and come to the island, all your efforts will be in vain."

Faced with the pressing situation, Miss Elliott finally tentatively revealed her plan.

"Um... although I don't know what to interview about... I think Mr. Marcus must have some extraordinary abilities. If I could follow him for a day, perhaps I could find some material for a report..."

After she finished speaking, she looked at me with an embarrassed expression, waiting hopefully for my decision.

Hmm... this method is indeed good. If she can find a newsworthy highlight, she can complete the task on the spot.

Even if she can't find it, by following and interviewing people for a day, she can accumulate enough material of a wide range of types, and then there will still be a chance to make one last attempt.

I can probably understand her feelings. She probably imagines that the people interviewed by the Federal Overseas Television would be business elites living on the island, famous artists, or the protagonists of legendary stories. At the very least, they would have made some achievements in a certain industry. With just a little digging, she could find highlights worth reporting.

So much so that she was confident that she could complete the interview task based on the address and name on the ship ticket revealed by her friend. Little did she expect that she would meet an ordinary young man after disembarking...

I'm so sorry for living such an ordinary life! Damn it!

"Oh well, whatever. An interview is a good thing, after all. You're already here, right?"

I glanced tentatively at Mr. Dart, only to find that this respectable elder had already slipped away and disappeared into the kitchen.

Miss Elliott looked at me with delight, grabbed my hand, and said excitedly, "Thank you so much, Mr. Marcus! I will definitely seize this precious opportunity!"

Suddenly, a rag fell from the sky and landed precisely on the table in front of us, splashing water everywhere.

A girl with a ponytail came down from the second floor and said apologetically, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry, my hand slipped! Are you alright?"

I was about to tell her she was alright when I noticed another rag fall squarely onto Miss Elliott's face, dirty water slowly sliding down her cheeks...

"what!!!!"

"Sorry, I accidentally clicked my button too!"

Poppy appeared quietly on the second floor, her pink hair swaying in the wind, her face full of innocence—it would be even more convincing if she could explain why her hand slipped so precisely.

…………

When we finally returned to the tavern after wasting another precious afternoon, Mr. Dart had regained his gentlemanly demeanor and looked at us with an expression of complete control.

(·灬·).

"Boss... what's with that expression?"

However, my question did not require him to put in too much effort to answer.

"To be honest, from the moment you left, I knew you would come back in this state."

He glanced at the two reporters, their mouths dry, then at me, who looked dejected. "You two seem to have oversimplified the interview process..."

But what can I do? I'm desperate too!

Although I agreed to give them both an interview opportunity, I had too many things around me that were inconvenient to be seen by others.

For example, the Groudon in the warehouse, the Dryad in the spring, and the Kappa by the water in the pasture—even if they were just sitting at home, I'm afraid they'd accidentally wander into a man-eating magic mirror and be torn apart alive by those undead...

Not to mention that during the conversation, he also had to help Miss Elliott conceal her story, making this afternoon even more complicated than the meal Huang Silang treated Zhang Mazi to.

So I spent the whole afternoon just wandering around town, and didn't do anything productive at all.

"Boss, you used to be a journalist? How come you seem to know so much about these things?"

Mr. Dart said nonchalantly, "These investigative techniques aren't just for journalists... Anyway, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"

...Boss, you're using this trick too? Don't try to fool me. Usually, when someone says this, it means both pieces of news are bad, or at most, there's plenty of cow dung.