Chapter 39: Simple and Honest Local Customs

In the Empire's Western Frontier, the local customs were simple and honest; Broly and the others had just left the Water Marsh Region when a passing merchant caravan happened to take them in.

Although this caravan chose to ambush them the following night because of that bundle of pearls, they also delivered a pile of food, transport vehicles, and other commodities and supplies.

Afterwards, on the road to the Map Border City, they encountered two slave capture teams; seeing the caravan's leaders were a group of children, the slave catchers not only wanted the caravan's goods but also wanted to seize Broly and the others as slaves.

The result was the slave capture teams were all wiped out, the painstakingly captured slaves were freed, those who could return home went home, and those who could not return or had no home to go to joined the Broly's Caravan led by Broly, becoming helpers.

Later, nearing the Main Road, perhaps because they were a caravan, they encountered attacks from eight different bandit groups in succession.

Among them, five groups attacked without greeting, directly harming caravan personnel, and were evaporated along with their ambush positions by the enraged Broly's energy bullets.

The remaining three groups only wanted to collect a passage fee, considered relatively rule-abiding groups; because they engaged in friendly communication before the robbery, they successfully found a job as guards mixing meals in Broly's Caravan.

"Spare us, my lord; we only turned to banditry because taxes are too heavy and we cannot survive.

Since our debut until now, we have only robbed wealth, never lives; we only want to live, so please show great mercy and spare us this once……"

The process of applying to be caravan guards was roughly as above; fortunately these sallow, emaciated groups knelt quite swiftly, or they would have been blasted to death by Broly directly.

Sitting in the carriage gnawing on sweet purple thorn fruit, Broly only felt the people of the Empire's Western Frontier were truly too enthusiastic; before even reaching the first city marked on the map, many people had already delivered various supplies and manpower.

If on Planet Nappa there were also such people delivering various supplies to him, that would be wonderful; unfortunately, no such good people exist on Planet Nappa.

"Giddyup!"

The caravan vehicles suddenly stopped.

"What's going on, more good people coming to our door?"

Broly poked his head out from the carriage and asked.

"Not robbers; we've arrived at the border checkpoint and are currently queuing to pass."

Nahashu explained; he wore a set of former caravan leader clothes tailored to fit, a monocle on his right eye, his skin a brownish hue, giving off the air of a young manager.

By outward appearance, he looked at least four or five years older than his actual age.

"Not good people coming to the door……"

Broly was a bit disappointed; since it wasn't good people coming, he ducked back into the carriage and continued eating the fruit inside.

Passing the border checkpoint, the entry inspection was not very strict; the reason was that three years ago, the Western Garrison Army's military pay was withheld by the Imperial Central Government.

To maintain the border army and prevent mutiny, the garrison commander here started collecting passage fees; it has developed to the point where as long as the passage fee is sufficient, the soldiers guarding the checkpoint won't even open transport vehicles to inspect them.

This situation also created this border city's prosperity; originally some smugglers no longer took dangerous private trade routes to sneak across, but all flocked to this border city where checkpoint inspection is lax and one can enter and exit the Empire as long as enough passage money is paid.

"However, this also makes the population composition of this city very complex; people of all stripes are here, like us bandits, or visitors from the West, foreign tribes from the wildlands……"

The bandit chief subdued by Broly's force introduced the situation of this border city; broadly speaking, it can be regarded as a large-scale commodity trading market where the Eastern Empire, various Western Kingdoms, and some foreign tribes gather together.

Inside the city, the border army maintains order and it appears peaceful enough, but once outside the city, it becomes a place where everyone shows their abilities, all together displaying the Western Frontier's simple and honest border customs.

Everyone is a merchant, but everyone may also turn into a bandit; the main alignments are roughly divided into three parties: the Western Merchant Group formed by the Imperial Chamber of Commerce is the largest, then the Foreign Merchant Corps formed by merchant guilds from various Western Kingdoms uniting to oppose the Western Merchant Group, and last are the foreign tribes viewed as uncivilized savages.

Usually the first two fight each other, but will jointly suppress the foreign tribes' own caravans to obtain cheaper commodities.

However, some powerful foreign tribes are also not to be trifled with; they are the true border bandits, the kind who rob wealth and harm lives.

Of course, when others rob wealth and harm lives, they usually also shift the blame onto the foreign tribes; after all, anything is possible from uncivilized barbarians.

So, clearly the weakest group among the three parties, yet the foreign tribes have the worst reputation; even in this border city, not many people welcome foreign tribe caravans.

"No wonder the Red Leaf Chieftain couldn't do business here."

Disunity among foreign tribes everywhere is one reason; the tacit suppression of foreign tribes by Eastern and Western merchant guilds is another reason.

"Does this Manager need cargo moved? We have good laborers here, cheap prices."

"Not needed; our caravan has its own laborers."

Dismissing the broker who ran over seeking business, Nahashu returned to the carriage side.

"Broly-san, you all go eat first; I'll handle the caravan's goods."

"Wouldn't leaving it to others work?"

"I'm not at ease leaving it to others; I'll stay and keep watch." The others were merely coerced or joined halfway; who knows if someone might run off with the money; Nahashu felt he had to help Big Brother watch over this wealth.

"We'll bring you food."

Someone chose to stay and help, but the glutton was excluded.

"If any of you harm them, I'll beat you to death."

Broly said seriously to those subdued bandits.

"We wouldn't dare."

This group hurriedly waved their hands; most had witnessed Broly unleash a blast, evaporating the scene of some bandits who attacked directly without any opening remarks.

That terrifying scene that even changed the terrain made them feel awe toward this harmless-looking boy.

Fear born of terrifying power, but also respect born from the fact the other party did not kill them, fellow road-robbers, and even gave them a way to live.

In the lively border city, Broly smelled various scents on the streets and finally led a group of children into a noodle shop.

Inside the noodle shop voices clamored; up front a rich broth simmered from unknown animal bones with added spices, its fragrance drifting nearly half a street.

"Smells good, Boss, first bring us a hundred bowls of noodles!"

"Alright, wait, a hundred bowls of noodles — can you kids eat that much?"

"Money's here; if we can't eat it, the bill is still paid."

"Sorry, noodles, coming right up."

Seeing the money, the noodle shop boss no longer cared whether the customers could eat it all.

As long as they can pay the bill, even smashing his noodle shop would be fine.

Besides noodles, the noodle shop also sold other foods.

Must say, same grilled meat, with spices and without spices, the results are completely two different things.

"Delicious."

Broly wolfed it down; the other children were no exception, every person at the table satisfied by the delicious food.

But where there are satisfied children, there are dissatisfied children—they are the Wandering Children of this Border Town City.

They stand at street corners and in alleys, casting envious gazes at those wealthy enough to enter restaurants and eat.

Their eyes hold yearning, expecting the Customers seated at tables outside to leave behind some remaining scraps and leftovers.

For these Wandering Children, that is one of the few places where they can obtain Not Bad food.

As for inside the restaurant, they dare not go in, for they would be beaten by the restaurant's people.

And the scraps and leftovers inside are the Kitchen Waste fought over by the Grouped Children.

"Boss, the bill!"

As the Customer seated at a table outside the Steamed Bun Shop spoke these words, several pairs of hungry little eyes looked over, and upon seeing the steamed bun skins left uneaten on the other's plate, the Wandering Children sitting at the street corner could not help but swallow their Saliva.

But they still dare not go over, like stray cats, afraid they might displease that person and then be Harmed.

Children like them, even if beaten to death, the person who beat them to death might only need to pay a Street Cleaning Fee to the Street Security Officer here.

But even stray cats have differences—for example, those merely Hungry but not yet starved to death, and those about to starve to death.

"Excuse me, sir, could you give me those steamed bun skins you don't want on your plate?"

The girl wrapped in a dirty Weishen revealed a Cute smile; she came to the side of the Customer preparing to pay the bill and, from a distance of two meters, asked somewhat Carefully.

Her little Belly gurgled and growled; Main had not eaten for Two Days.

(Chapter End)