Chapter 124: History Is Changing

Not far from the Wooden Man Array, sixty Sea-Land Cadets were practicing Military Stance — and conveniently observing the live-fire shooting, killing two birds with one stone. Terrified that these recruits would embarrass themselves in front of the Dutch, the drill instructors were exceptionally fierce today, pacing slowly through the ranks with murderous glints in their eyes, twirling Black Ebony Short Sticks and crocodile leather whips, scaring these poor souls who hadn't endured much military training stiff as durians... Perfect — now there was no need to correct their postures at all.

"Who are those people standing nearby?" Nuytz lowered the binoculars temporarily lent to him, still somewhat puzzled by the motionless figures in the frame after a moment's thought, and turned to ask Cai Feiming, who stood beside him.

"Soldiers. Soldiers undergoing training," Cai Feiming explained.

"Whoa, a strange training method." Nuytz shrugged after hearing the explanation.

Cai Feiming glanced at him, smiled, and said nothing more.

Nuytz would never know that it was precisely because of his arrival with the Sloten that Xia Xianze had begun permitting the Army to recruit cadets. That is to say, ever since the "Intimidation Style" incident, certain covert restrictions hampering the military had been lifted, and the Transmigrators' military construction had only just begun to get on track.

The exercise's effect was beyond doubt. The M2 Machine Gun without a flash suppressor violently spewed incandescent red warheads, and this time Nuytz saw with stark clarity the entire firing process of that string of brass cartridges.

The shattered remnants of the Wooden Man Array vividly recreated the scene that had unfolded before the Shang Hall gates. The military personnel, about to acquire new toys, had no qualms about having Cai Feiming relay a message to the Red Hairs: Our effective range is 1800 Meters, purpose-built for punching through oak hulls — try us if you dare!...

Cai Feiming laid an ambush here, telling the Dutch only that the "M2 Type Cannon" had a range of 1000 Meters. That alone was enough to snuff out every last notion the Dutch entertained — if the army couldn't get close, what use were more warships? Besides, the Dutch were no fools; they had seen with perfect clarity the tracer rounds streaking far beyond the 1000-meter mark.

The exercise achieved complete success — except for a few cadets who flinched when wood splinters sprayed onto their faces. This time, it wouldn't be as simple as taking a single whack: disgracing the entire army, that enormous hat of blame crashing down... how many whacks you deserve, you figure it out yourselves. They'd be banked and delivered slowly.

January 1, 1628. New Year's Day.

Today the masters were still busy as ever with meetings, drilling troops, and running production; there was little festive atmosphere. The off-duty Laborers did get some perks: a half-day off, and venison added to the Mess Hall dishes — probably out of fear that the laborers might develop the dreadfully hard-to-treat high blood pressure and diabetes, the masters usually thoughtfully ate the red meats like venison and pork themselves, leaving their subordinates healthy fare like seafood congee, seafood rice, and seafood stone-grill.

The Slaves received the same treatment. In fact, aside from earning no Work Points, the slaves' treatment was currently entirely identical to everyone else's.

Even in the 21st century, lumberjacks hoisting logs by helicopter still have the highest mortality rate of any profession. And the slaves at Dayuan faced a harsh Environment far exceeding that of Later Generations; their task was more terrifying still: to Clean Up the primordial Surface completely... This meant all grass vines, Shrubs, bamboo groves, virgin timber forests, ponds, mud pits, wetlands...

Many people simply died before the Malaria incubation period even manifested. Impaled through the skull by a branch, ambushed by an unknown venomous snake, sucked into a bog, crushed by a rockslide... Transmigrators who had never pioneered virgin wilderness had no idea there were so many bizarre ways to die. Fatal occupational injuries ranked number one during the early-stage construction of the Kiln District; only later, when the pace of construction slowed and labor protections for slaves were gradually strengthened, did the death rate slowly decline.

The scarcity of cannon fodder for land clearance forced the Transmigrators to Have To strengthen their protections and improve their treatment. On a holiday like today, the slaves likewise got a half-day off and a meal of venison.

The Dutch felt no festive atmosphere either. They were busily packing their gear, loading cargo into the hold, and making pre-voyage preparations. The Sloten, which Nuytz had arrived on, had reached the waters off Dayuan on December 24 — a full week had passed since then... Dayuan was lost, the contract signed, and the hold filled with Raw Silk, Porcelain, and Songjiang Cotton Cloth. It was time to return to Batavia, lest a long night bring many dreams.

Two days later, at Dayuan Dock, the Sloten was slowly setting sail. The bow was crowded with Dutch sailors, Whistling and waving their arms; some former captives loudly cursed the Heretics who had tormented them, wishing them a painful death. In short, it was quite lively.

Seeing them off on the Jetty were, naturally, Foreign Liaison Department head Cai Feiming and his assistant. The Strolling Quartet would all be sailing away with Nuytz this trip; they had important missions to accomplish in Batavia. Staying behind at Dayuan as a liaison was a Junior Merchant named "Red Hair" Zheer.

It is worth mentioning that Pastor Gandius, captured from the Native village some time ago, was also aboard the Sloten today. After being brought back, he had been assigned to the Japanese village, Responsible For civilizing the slaves; the Transmigrators had not deliberately made things difficult for him. Just before boarding today, during the farewell toast, Cai Feiming had even sought out Pastor Gan specially and invited him to drink a cup of an unusual light wine. This was called a smile to wash away enmity — a gesture of utmost benevolence and duty done.

Watching these hypocritical, shrewd, cunning, and ruthless Colonizers gradually recede into the distance, Cai Feiming could not help but feel a touch of melancholy: Mr. Nuytz's fate had been utterly altered. In the future, he would not be kidnapped by the Japanese, nor would he be humiliatingly sent back to Japan by his Owner to be imprisoned, and his son would not die of dysentery in jail.

History was changing, and the fates of many people were becoming blurred and uncertain because of it. The Transmigrators' greatest Advantage was slowly slipping away.

Of course, losing an advantage did not mean resigning oneself to death. On the Contrary, the assertive Crossing Regime was actively intervening in history, attempting to stir the butterfly's wings and seize their own historical initiative.

Regarding Dutch-Japanese relations, the Transmigrators had already made some attempts, based on their own projections, to test the waters after history had been altered: using Raw Silk Trade Rights to influence the Shogunate's decisions, the Transmigrators sought to have the Japanese take the lead in completely severing Japanese-Dutch trade.

"Will Japan act on schedule, or will the plan change and we have to roll up our sleeves and do it ourselves? The choices of history are truly something to look forward to..." Hands clasped behind his back, Cai Feiming lowered his head and walked slowly along the now-quiet Jetty back toward the Shang Hall.

No matter how history changed, the strength of one's own power was the best response. The Transmigrators understood this clearly, so the moment the Red Hairs' feet left, the Great Killer the military had long yearned for descended from the sky — "biu" — tossed right into the center of the Shang Hall by the Chairman himself.

In this moment, the colleagues of the Army and Navy put aside all barriers. Working together in unison, chanting work songs, they lifted the base, weighing a ton and a half, out of the Transmission Box, then dragged out the Cannon Barrel, exactly 2.8 Meters long and seemingly designed by fate for Crossing Over. Once installed, this Bofors 40 mm anti-aircraft gun — authorized by the Sweden Bofors Company and manufactured by Italy's Oto Melara — stood mightily in the middle of the grounds.

Yes, this was an Italian descendant of the Swedish Bofors anti-aircraft gun, a weapon that swept through World War II, dubbed the "universal anti-aircraft gun," and copied by friend and foe alike... The markings engraved on the gun body were all foreign characters.