People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

"What's wrong with being a knight? Kavaleria is full of spies from the Unarmored Alliance and the Business Federation. Before those capitalists have squeezed all your value out of you, it's not that easy to switch sides."

"You talk about it so detachedly, as if you're not the one being exploited," Monique, Roy's partner who was wiping her bow and arrows, rolled her eyes at him.

Roy shrugged nonchalantly: "Yeah, us too, so we'll have to work overtime tonight. Is my bow ready?"

“You wipe it yourself, I’m not your nanny,” Monique said firmly.

Roy replied with a grin, "Help me out, otherwise you'll say my shot smells bad again tonight!"

Monique's face darkened instantly. She raised her bow and aimed at Roy, looking at him as if to say, "If you dare to make another lewd joke, I'll shoot you dead."

Roy quickly apologized with a forced smile, "I meant archery, archery."

Monique then put away her bow and sighed helplessly.

Roy is very strong, even stronger than her, but his slippery personality is nothing like that of a legendary Blue Gold Highlord assassin. He always manages to say bizarre things from different angles, and it's unclear where he got this bad habit from.

We are ruthless killers, can't we live up to that image and be a little cold-hearted and cruel?

..............

"Do you think I should be more aloof?"

Hearing Vina's suggestion from the back seat, Ernst in the front seat glanced at the rearview mirror, somewhat puzzled.

"why?"

Vina explained, "That's because that's how interviewers usually are. If you're not a bit cold and don't ask sharp questions, the interviewers will think you're easy to handle. It'll be hard for them to get nervous, and then it'll be hard for you to evaluate them... well..."

"Resilience?" Lola reminded her from the side.

Vina nodded immediately: "Yes, resilience!"

Ernst nodded thoughtfully.

Vina's words make sense. Ernst also knows that in a typical interview, the interviewer usually conducts a stress test, which is to deliberately ask some tricky and intense questions to make the interviewee unable to cope for a while, in order to test the interviewee's endurance and flexibility.

This helps the interviewer evaluate the candidate's overall qualities.

But Ernst didn't use this method, and the reason is quite simple.

Given the state of our gang, we basically rely on swindling and deception to recruit people, so why would we need to conduct stress tests?

The real stress test content is basically all in Sherag. Once people go back with them, the stress... do they even need a test? Lock you up in a place with no entertainment for a year or two, and you'd be a saint if you didn't end up in a mental hospital.

Otherwise, why do you think we offer preferential treatment for large-volume recruitment? Even a worn-out screw needs to be replaced!

However, it's a good thing that Vina took the initiative to integrate into this big family so quickly, and Ernst never hesitated to praise her: "Well said."

He paused,

"But not."

"Why?" Vina asked.

Ernst replied righteously, "I believe that those who are determined to work in Sherag are of such high moral character, outstanding ability, and strong mental fortitude that they don't need any tests to prove it. Like you, have I ever conducted any tests on you?"

"No." Vina shook her head, touched.

She initially thought Ernst was inexperienced in hiring for the first time, but she never expected Ernst to think that way. Is this one of the legendary ten qualities of a good boss: "Trust those you employ, and don't employ those you don't trust"?

admirable!

"Mr. Ernst, we've arrived."

The driver reminded him, and Ernst nodded to him. After the car came to a complete stop, he opened the car door.

Having already received instructions from the ultimate boss, Mr. Bridge Jacket Reeve, the Black Steel Casimir branch immediately sent someone to greet him. After a brief greeting, Ernst glanced at his watch; it was already 1 p.m.

Road conditions in the Terra Wilderness were always a problem, and Ernst was a full four hours late in arriving in Kazimierz as expected.

He then looked at the security guards standing guard at the main entrance of the Black Steel building and asked:

"Hello, sir, may I ask if anyone applied for the job before we arrived?"

The security guard dared not conceal the fact that Mr. Cliff had chosen a distinguished guest, and after a careful recollection, nodded:

"There was a girl who stood at the door holding a job advertisement for about ten minutes. It was around nine o'clock in the morning. After that, she left and didn't go inside."

Ernst felt a pang of regret upon hearing this. Everyone who was interested in the job was his future employee, and it was such a shame that one of them had slipped away without him noticing.

But she was gone, and Ernst didn't recognize her, so there was no way to bring her back. He could only sigh and say:

"Thank you. In that case, let's go upstairs first. We'll be staying in Kazimierz for three days. I get off work at 5 PM today. After 5 PM, let's go and see what the Knights' City is like at night!"

Lola and Vina exchanged a glance, their surprise outweighing their delight. "Isn't it a bit much to spend money like this?" they asked.

Ernst gestured towards Black Steel International behind him with his lip: "The branch generously contributed."

Vina immediately exclaimed in admiration:

"It's so great to get something for free!"

"What do you mean by 'freeloading'?" Ernst corrected, displeased. "This is called being thrifty and hardworking. You should find a man like me, understand?"

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Oh ho, isn't this Platinum? It's been a few days, and it's gotten so bad?

Kazimierz, Kavaleriaki, Purple Flower Restaurant.

Purple Flower Restaurant is a well-known local eatery in the western part of Cavaleliaki. It is said to have been operating as a restaurant for over twenty years, but before that, its history as a street vendor can be traced back to before Cavaleliaki became a mobile city.

"If you're looking for upscale Victorian cuisine or technologically advanced Colombian dishes, this might not be the place for you. But if you'd like to experience the flavors of Casimir, then you've come to the right place!"

The Kuranta shop assistant's self-praise clearly caught the attention of Ernst and his group, including Vina. And the dishes they served certainly lived up to their reputation.

The delicious and comforting Russell soup, the sweet Casimir pancakes, and the stew made primarily of beef, cabbage, onions, and carrots—while the ingredients weren't particularly unusual, they undeniably created dishes that truly evoked the feeling of "this is definitely Casimir style."

Ernst's only two complaints about the meal were about the cassimilaire dumplings.

Yes, dumplings are not a food unique to the Great Yan Kingdom. Kazimierz also has its own dumplings, but they are rounder in shape, like a fan with a bulging belly.

The restaurant typically uses meat, but when recommending dishes, the owner kindly suggested more "flavorful" pairings. So, when Ernst enthusiastically forked a dumpling and took a bite with anticipation, he experienced an indescribable taste.

"Damn it, why would they put strawberries in dumplings?"

"Holy crap, what's this? Blueberries? Cherries?"

"What? You guys also got buckwheat and cheese? Wait a minute, I'm going to the kitchen to use the restroom."

Fortunately, Vina and Lola are both weak women with A-level strength and speed, otherwise they really wouldn't have been able to stop Ernst, whose blood pressure was already erupting like the Siesta volcano.

He's more than a heretic, he's practically a filial son!

Lola quickly pulled Ernst out of the restaurant, and only then did she have a chance to glance at the receipt the waiter handed her. What she saw made her gasp and her eyes widen in shock.

"This, this, this..."

Seeing this, Vina stepped forward, took the bill from Lola's hand, glanced at it briefly, and frowned.

"Ernst, this bill is really expensive."

Finally managing to catch his breath, Ernst gently shook his head: "Not expensive? How could it not be expensive? Where else would you get such delicious food if it wasn't expensive?"

"Cavalegliage is a money pit. Restaurants like the Purple Flower Restaurant, what do you think they survive on? Specialty food?"

Ernst smiled, pinched his index, middle, and thumb together, and rubbed them together.

"It's all about money."

Under the capitalist order, people are also a kind of consumable, but capitalists have slightly beautified this reality and called it "human resources".

Since it's a social resource, it can be quantified and replaced. You say your family has a thousand-year-old tradition of making Casimir pancakes, and I say mine has a hundred-year-old tradition. At first glance, my history seems longer, and I'm more likely to have survived. But what's the reality?

Perhaps a thousand-year-old tradition commands a higher price, while a hundred-year-old tradition commands a lower price. Therefore, capitalists naturally choose the hundred-year-old tradition. After all, the average person's palate can't discern the weight of history; cost control becomes the only consideration. As long as the signboard stands there, a hundred-year-old tradition can be a thousand-year-old one—what difference does it make?

The fact that the Purple Flower Restaurant has become a well-known restaurant in the prime location of Cavaleliaqui without being eliminated by other restaurants is due to the enormous expenses behind it, enough to make the entire city of Kjerag take notice.

Regardless, it at least prevented some of Kasimir's traditional cuisine from being lost. While it's truly poignant that dishes once enjoyed in every household are now the exclusive domain of the wealthy and powerful, at least if you're rich enough, you can still eat them, right?

Those foods and traditions that are eliminated in such fierce culinary competition are the pitiful things that no one even bothers to remember.

"Why do I feel like you're talking about more than just food?"

Vina asked, seemingly understanding but not quite.

Ernst shook his head: "Don't talk nonsense, I'm very sensitive."

Vina: "Hmm? (Alert)"

“I mean political stance,” Ernst explained firmly.

"Where should we go next?" he asked. "Blacksteel suggested places worth visiting, and they said there's a knightly tournament at the Hurricane Arena tonight. Are you interested?"

“We haven’t hired a single person today. Is it really okay for us to just wander around aimlessly like this?” Lola asked, somewhat uneasy.

But Ernst was quite frank: "This just means there isn't a suitable one. Just like in Lentinium, we only managed to recruit one Vina, but Vina got along very well with us."

Ernst looked at Vina as he spoke, about to ask her if there was anywhere she wanted to go, when Vina suddenly stopped, her face serious, her brows furrowed, and her fluffy ears began to twitch and turn around, as if she were listening intently to something.

Ernst quickly composed himself and asked:

"what happened?"

"We can hear fighting ahead... They're coming this way, and they're moving very fast!"

As Vina spoke, she was about to grab Ernst's hand and leave when a silver figure darted out of the alley in a disheveled state. Perhaps exhausted, or perhaps with nowhere else to go, she hadn't even had time to check the situation before crashing headfirst into Ernst's chest. The explosive force of her well-trained body at the moment of her impending death instantly knocked the poor snow leopard to the ground.

"Why run away, Hinterlea? You know, I've already taken the risk to give you a choice."

“But you refuse to join us, and you refuse to die, which puts me in a difficult position.”

A somewhat frivolous male voice came from the alley, and then a man in blue robes holding a compound bow slowly walked out.

Seemingly surprised by the large number of people outside the alley, a hint of astonishment flashed across Qingjin Roy's face. Then, as if remembering something, a strange smile appeared on his face. He raised his hand, pressed his earpiece, and greeted them:

"Excuse me, everyone, may I ask who you are?"

Lola pulled the unconscious Hinterlea off Ernst. Ernst, still reeling from the impact, struggled to his feet, glanced at the strangely familiar Hinterlea, rubbed his temples, and was about to reply, "We are Xie..."

Vina suddenly stepped forward and replied in Victorian, “We are diplomats from the Shelag government, here in Kazimir on official business. This is our superior, Ernst Shivaish. May I ask who you are?”

Roy's smile froze on his face. The usually witty and sarcastic Roy was momentarily at a loss for words.

It's not uncommon for the Wuzhou Alliance to be caught doing things. Occasionally, due to negligence or the short time allotted for clearing the area, some people would remain in the "hunting ground" and witness the scene. This is not without precedent.

But most of those people are either drunkards who won't listen to orders and go out drinking, streetwalkers who have just finished a job, or local thugs and hooligans, or at most, newly hired company employees. Those above them have some experience, know some of the "unspoken rules of society," and will actively avoid such places to avoid getting involved.

But he never imagined that one day he would encounter a "foreign diplomat" while on a mission.

No, what are foreign diplomats doing wandering the streets at night when they have nothing to do but work and have fun? Don't you know the rules of Kazimierz?

Oh, you're not from Kazimierz, so you probably shouldn't know this.

The Unarmored Alliance didn't tell me how to deal with this situation.

Roy wouldn't dare kill them. Although he hadn't heard much about the country of Sherag, he figured no one would joke about such a status. Killing them indiscriminately might cause international conflict, but if it affected the higher-ups and the money-grubbers of the business federation, that would be a much bigger problem.

But if I don't do it, the mission objective is still hanging by a thread, and it's hard to explain myself, as it will damage my reputation.

Just as Roy hesitated, Ernst slowly reached into the inner pocket of his new suit, as if to take something out.

Seeing this, Roy immediately released his fingers from the strings, waved his hand to indicate that he no longer intended to attack, and at the same time asked the other end of the headset:

"Monique, did you hear me?"

He reconnected Monique's communication as soon as he stepped out of the alley.

Monique's voice came from the other end of the earpiece:

"It is indeed a Lontinem accent, and the [diplomat's] vocabulary just now was clearly 'aristocratic,' so it might be the real deal."

Monique was a Victorian who had even tried to join the army, and she was very familiar with the accent that the nobleman who commanded the local army was so proud of. Vina's voice, on the other hand, sounded even more distinctive.

“Then you’ll have to be my witness!” Roy whispered.

Monique snorted coldly: "Hmph, you had better explain to me what you were doing for those few minutes when the communication was cut off?"

“The signal is bad in the alley, the signal is bad.” Roy chuckled, then immediately said to Ernst and the others, “I just happened to be passing by and found that this little girl seemed to be seriously injured. I don’t know which bastard did such a thing. I was just about to take her to the hospital, but since I’ve run into you, I don’t need to be a helpful citizen. I’ll be going now, so don’t bother me.”

After saying that, he didn't even glance at Hinterlea again, and quickly disappeared into the darkness.