A Maybach on a rainy night? Talk to my Levadin!

Zhao Zizhan was quite pleased. Talulah was now starting to consider the underlying impact and weigh the pros and cons of things, and was no longer making decisions based on emotions. This was a good thing.

8

"This is easy to handle."

Zhao Zizhan smiled and said in a relaxed tone, "Just tell them to pay the ransom and get yourself released."

"Pay the ransom?"

Talulah was taken aback, clearly not expecting him to say that, her eyes filled with surprise. "Is this... appropriate?"

"What's inappropriate?"

Zhao Zizhan raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want to keep them here wasting our food? They've worked in the mines for so many years, exploiting the miners and withholding wages. They must have a lot of savings. Let them pay the ransom and get out of here. We won't have to worry about watching over them, and we'll get a sum of money. It's a great deal."

"Wouldn't it be better to turn these cold hostages into warm ransom money and use it to pay the miners' wages?"

Rhodes Island is dirt poor right now, not even able to come up with a single Carrera. The mine needs money for repairs, and the miners and Reinforcement members also need money for their livelihoods. Now that these scoundrels are in our hands, we have to squeeze them dry.

"Then I'll have them contact their superiors immediately."

"Hey, no, let them tell you who to contact themselves."

"……you mean?"

"Only they themselves know who to ask for money; asking their superiors might not be effective." Victoria has always been quite steadfast in her lack of morality, and these veterans are probably the ones who understand Victoria's great lack of virtue the most.

"How could this be... Do they have no mercy even for their own people?"

Although she had seen the arrogance of nobles, she had not expected them to be so indifferent, even abandoning those who served them so readily.

"Alas... these nobles and company owners, from birth, every pore of their skin flows with the blood of evil. Every penny of their wealth was squeezed from miners and the poorest people. If they had even a shred of conscience, their businesses wouldn't have reached where they are today."

Talulah remained silent for a long time before finally nodding: "Okay."

Looking at her still pale face, Zhao Zizhan couldn't help but advise her again: "Don't stay up too long. As a leader, it's good to lead by example, but only by protecting yourself can you do more for your infected compatriots."

As he spoke, he reached out and gently touched her forehead, his fingertips feeling its icy coolness. "Look at your face. If you keep going like this and exhaust yourself, where will I find another Talulah?"

Without answering Zhao Zizhan's question, Talulah took out a small freezer from behind her.

"I have something to give you."

She handed the freezer to Zhao Zizhan, her eyes darting away, unable to meet his gaze.

"this is for you"

"what is this?"

Zhao Zizhan took the box; it was heavier than he had imagined, and the sides of the box were slightly cool.

"My blood."

Talulah's voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of being overheard, "You said before that you needed my blood to study your bloodline disease... I went to the medical room today and drew some."

Zhao Zizhan opened the freezer, inside which were neatly arranged rows of blood bags. He roughly counted them; there were more than a dozen. This wasn't just a few bags; sister, you're really ruthless…

Zhao Zizhan's hands trembled. He looked up at Talulah's still pale face, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something blaming, but the words that came out were a helpless expression of heartache. "No wonder you look so pale... After drawing this much blood, anyone else would have collapsed long ago. The fact that you can still stand here and talk truly shows the amazing power of Draco's bloodline."

Talulah felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. She turned her face away, her eyes fixed on the tent in the distance, and said in a soft voice, "The medical operator said that drawing these at once is no problem... Besides, your illness can't be delayed."

She paused, then added, "If it's not enough, I'll go get some more next time."

"That's enough, that's absolutely enough!"

Zhao Zizhan quickly closed the freezer.

This idiot is really something!

"Quick, quick, let's go, I'll help you to the infirmary to get some nutrition. What were you thinking, running around like this right after donating blood? Hurry, quick, quick!" he said, grabbing Talulah's arm and heading towards the medical area.

Talulah secretly glanced at Zhao Zizhan's tense profile. Even though she had most of her blood drawn, she felt exceptionally warm inside.

Chapter 161 Distress.

If Talulah hadn't brought it up, Zhao Zizhan would have almost forgotten about his bloodline disease.

He was completely shocked. Talulah would actually draw so much blood from him. It was truly terrifying. How could those medical operators agree to it?

He thought carefully, trying to figure out why Talulah had suddenly thought of drawing blood today. Even if she had damaged the mining platform, it shouldn't have ended there, right?

After thinking it over, Zhao Zizhan remembered that he seemed to have given Talulah a book yesterday.

The problem does indeed lie with this book.

He was extremely busy these days, mainly working on the relationship between Reunion Movement and Rhodes Island, and between Reunion Movement and the miners.

Changing the hearts of a group of people is not something that can be accomplished in a day. He has indeed been quite busy these days. After finishing his work during the day, he still has to revise some works on his desk at night.

Who is it for? Naturally, it's for Talulah.

As the leader of the Reunion Movement, she is the most crucial "rope."

Because of their previous experiences in Ursus, the infected members of the Reunion Movement were naturally tinged with pessimism. This deep-seated suffering, under Talulah's influence, turned into anger towards the Ursus authorities and ordinary people who had not been infected. But when the anger subsided, all that remained was a deeper emptiness.

Talulah hadn't read many books, so all she could think about was anger. Only when her mindset changed could the infected in the Reunion Movement, who were consumed by anger, gradually let go of their obsessions.

He previously said he wanted Talulah to read more books, so what books should she read?

Giving someone a large, complex book right off the bat will obviously dampen their enthusiasm for reading, so it's better to start with easier-to-read and more engaging genres like novels.

Zhao Zizhan turned his attention to the works of the older generation of Ursus alternate-world counterparts in another world.

Although the names "Tsarist Russia" in that world and "Ursus" in Terra are different, the suffering of the lower classes is actually the same. However, it still needs to be changed to make it easier for people to understand.

The condition of the infected in Ursus is actually very similar to that of the serfs during the Tsarist era, and even more repulsive because of Oripathy.

Not only do officials treat Oripathy patients like livestock, but this practice has also influenced the general public, whose situation is no better.

Yiling Yier and the umbrella age

However, those infected also come from human beings; they were once someone's husband, son, father, daughter, or sibling.

Therefore, after careful consideration, Zhao Zizhan translated some terms into Terran vocabulary and then handed a handwritten copy of a short story to Talulah.

"Read this book first, and then think about it carefully," Zhao Zizhan said at the time.

Talulah took the book, her fingertips lightly touching the pages as if afraid of damaging some treasure. But when she saw that the pages were full of his handwriting, her eyes lit up and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

Is this the work he created for me these days?

Tallulah thought so.

The cover features two large handwritten words that read "Trouble".

"Misery" is a work published in 1886 by the Russian literary giant Chekhov. Another work from the same period is "Vanka," the one titled "Dear Constantine, Makarich."

The entire novel can actually be condensed into the opening sentence: "To whom can I tell my sorrow?"

When she first turned the first page, she frowned: the protagonist was an ordinary coachman, neither a hero who rebelled against the government nor an oppressed infected person. Why did Zizhan show her this?

There must be a deeper meaning behind this, and with that thought in mind, Talulah continued watching.

A coachman whose son contracted Oripathy was dragged away by the picket line.

The coachman would never hear from his son again, but he knew that his beloved child would die silently on a winter night when no one knew, and then be dumped in the wilderness.

He was distressed and saddened by the loss of the future pillar of his family. He wanted to confide in his guests, but no one, whether man, woman, official, old or young, cared about his plight.

In the end, he could only pour out his sorrow to his thin pack animal.

Talulah was engrossed in watching. Suddenly, she sat up straight, as if something had been unlocked in her mind: Yes, the infected are people, but their families are people too. That coachman was an ordinary person, but how was his suffering any different from that of the infected in the Reunion Movement who had lost their families?

It wasn't just Reunion and Rhodes Island, not just Reunion and the miners, but also the Infected and those "ordinary relatives," and all the neglected, suffering people. She had always thought that ordinary people were indifferent and helped the government bully the Infected, but this coachman was also an ordinary person, and he was suffering too.

Why did no one listen to them before? Why did no one sympathize with them or care about them?

Are they blind, or have these people become so hard-hearted that they only see their own present moment, only what they want to see, without considering the past, the future, or the millions of people in the distance?

Talulah raised her hand to wipe away her tears, then turned back to the first page and reread the sentence, "To whom can I tell my sorrow?"

This time she understood: Zizhan didn't want her to see the story of a coachman, but to see "the sorrow of everyone"—whether they are infected or ordinary people, as long as they have suffering in their hearts, they should be heard.

Talulah saw Zhao Zizhan's final message: "The character of the Ursus masses is determined by the society of Ursus. Ursus contains and imprisons certain boiling, unleashing forces, but these forces are suppressed, heavily suppressed, unable to breathe, unable to escape, thus giving rise to depression, hatred, frustration, and indifference."

The snow and ice of Ursus seemed to overflow from the words, carrying with it the pungent perfume of the noble manor, the hoarse breathing of the miners deep in the mine, and the desperate sobs in the infected shelter, all crashing into her mind.

Talulah had never seen such powerful words before; they were like a knife, sharply slicing open the entire Ursus and showing them to her.

Talulah was not lacking in education; she received a traditional Ursus aristocratic education from Kosiché, who, as a Russian Grand Duke, possessed an enormous collection of books, but she had never seen a book like this before.

She was quite certain that there was no such book in the world, and that it could only have been written by Zizhan for her.

These past few days, she had also secretly contacted the medical staff at Rhodes Island and inquired about Zizhan's bloodline disease. She was told that Zizhan's bloodline disease was a top secret, and the only thing she could reveal was that he had to regularly see Warfarin for blood treatment to maintain his life.

He had already devoted himself to the development of the infected people during the day, his own life as fragile as a candle in the wind, yet at night he still cared about her and silently created this book for himself, even fearing that he wouldn't understand it, so he chose the novel format?

Hajizhan...you bastard...

I should do something for him too. Is there anything I can do?

That's why there was that small box of blood; the small box was filled with Talulah's desire for Zhao Zizhan to live.

Zhao Zizhan returned to his dormitory with the small box of blood. He didn't make a fuss, after all, he did need Draco's blood to test his plan to become stronger.

Looking at the small box, Zhao Zizhan's mind was racing with calculations.

What makes Draco's blood different from other people's blood?

Why think so much? Just absorb one bag, try it and you'll know.

Without hesitation, Zhao Zizhan took out a bag of blood from the dozen or so bags, grabbed it, and refined it in an instant.

The blood bag that Zhao Zizhan had grabbed instantly dissolved in his palm without a single drop of liquid falling. The dark red dragon blood transformed into a scalding torrent that surged into his body through his palm!

The temperature of the dragon blood far exceeded his expectations, like swallowing a red-hot iron, burning from the meridians in his arm all the way to his heart, and then spreading through his blood to every part of his body. The dragon bloodline within him, which had been dormant for a long time, seemed to be awakened by this familiar yet strange aura, and suddenly came to life.

He could clearly "sense" that the dragon blood seemed to carry an ancient consciousness—not a clear thought, but more like a doubt and exploration originating from the depths of his bloodline. When it touched his dragon blood, it paused for a moment. It was like two long-lost relatives meeting, feeling both the closeness of "kin" and the confusion caused by the differences in their bloodlines.

The doubt vanished in an instant, as the clash between dragon blood and dragon bloodline intensified. Golden and dark red powers intertwined and entangled within his body, sometimes clashing against the barriers of his meridians, and sometimes fusing together under the catalysis of the source stone.

Fine cracks began to appear on his skin, but before the pain could spread, they were repaired by fresh blood, only to break again and heal once more.

The bones emitted subtle "crackling" sounds, as if they were being reshaped by some force; the muscle fibers became more resilient and taut under the influence of the bloodline power.

Zhao Zizhan gritted his teeth, letting the power surge through his body—the pain was real, but the feeling of his body constantly growing stronger made him reluctant to stop.

He could feel that his dragon bloodline was being constantly refined by this pure dragon blood, and the impurities mixed in with his bloodline were being peeled away little by little, making the golden bloodline power increasingly pure.

After an unknown amount of time, when the last wisp of dragon blood was completely consumed, the surging power within Zhao Zizhan gradually subsided. He leaned back abruptly in his chair, letting out a long sigh of relief. His chest heaved violently, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat, yet he also carried an undisguised excitement—raising his hand and clenching his fist, he could clearly feel the power contained within his arm muscles, which was far stronger than before, and even his breathing became smoother than ever.

After carefully assessing his condition, Zhao Zizhan scratched his head.

I wasted a bag of blood.

The effects of Draco's blood far exceeded his expectations. The pure dragon power was of immeasurable benefit to him. However, his crude method of absorption was like scooping up a handful of clear spring water and splashing it directly onto sand. Most of the power was lost in the meaningless impact and consumption.

If one had a set of Originium Arts guidance techniques that would allow them to convert energy into guidance for controlling Originium Arts; or a set of physical techniques that would allow the body to better withstand and absorb this power, then the benefits that this bag of dragon blood could bring would probably be several times greater.

Billion○㈠弍２ノ╲⒊澪⒐捌

Whether it's Dharma cultivation or physical cultivation, both are good, but the problem is that I currently lack both.

The problem with the magic is relatively easy to solve. We can try to see if we can use Talulah's Originium Arts, since we share the same bloodline.

As for body cultivation... I suppose the only option is to go to Longmen.

Go to a street stall in Longmen and buy a manual of the Great Yan Martial Sect to practice; it should be quite effective.

Whether it succeeds or fails, it's worth a try.

"Longmen..."

A hint of anticipation flashed in Zhao Zizhan's eyes, and he began to plan: Tomorrow, he would first go to Warfarin to ask about the changes in the bloodline. After all, Warfarin was the person on Rhodes Island who knew the most about blood, and it was better than him figuring it out on his own.

Next, we need to speed up the process to Lungmen. Currently, the work between the infected and the miners at Rembitox is almost done, and the cooperation between the two sides is on track. As long as we follow the established procedures, regularly check resource allocation, and keep up with security measures, there shouldn't be any major problems.

Furthermore, he needs to increase the amount of blood he absorbs. This one incident has depleted a significant portion of Zhao Zizhan's blood reserves. He has also consumed a considerable amount of blood while repairing himself using the Blood Source Stone technique. For Zhao Zizhan, a member of the Squirrel Party, this deficit is unacceptable. What if he runs out of blood at a critical moment?

Furthermore, with so many Reunion Movement members and miners recruited, the daily trade volume with Rhodes Island, which was originally agreed upon, has long been insufficient to meet the demand. To increase the number, these people need to find a way to grow crops...

It is not advisable to rely entirely on external trade; we should find ways to be self-sufficient.

Farming, an option ingrained in their own bloodline, naturally came to mind.

If we organize experienced farmers and miners to clear the land, plow, and sow seeds together, and provide some seeds ourselves, we should be able to grow quite a lot. Many of the infected are from the countryside and know how to farm; some are also skilled at using Originium Arts to accelerate crop growth. If the two work together, they might be able to solve part of the food problem.