Chapter 582: The Future Speakers

Seron genuinely felt that the word "fate" was utterly deceitful.

【1】 Theron sincerely felt that the word "fate" was utterly hypocritical.

Whether it was when the Green Forest Army came, or when the Salvation Army arrived, or even when Alaric arrived with the Campbellers' guns… they all let him choose his own fate—but did he ever truly have a choice?

【2】 Whether it was when the Green Forest Army came, or when the Savior Army came, or when Alaric arrived with the Campbellers' rifles… they all claimed he could choose his own fate—but did he ever truly have a choice?

Even when this fire first broke out, His Majesty never consulted him about setting it ablaze?

【3】 Even when this fire first began to burn, His Majesty never consulted him about setting it.

But there was one thing Alaric said that Seron wholeheartedly agreed with.

【4】 But there was one thing Alaric said that Theron wholeheartedly agreed with.

They truly had to seize their own fate in their hands.

【5】 They truly must seize fate in their own hands.

Thus, this council, in the name of Holy Light, was born in a narrow, dim chamber of the Twilight City governor's mansion.

【6】 Thus, the Council of Holy Light was born in a narrow, dim chamber of the Viceroy's mansion in Dusk City.

Though it shared nearly identical power structures and patterns, its fate was sealed from the start: it would take a path entirely different from the Thunder City Council.

【7】 Though its power structure was nearly identical, its fate was sealed from the start: it would follow a path different from the Thundering City Council.

Born from a "black box," it would grow into an even larger "black box" after taking root—just as a potato planted can grow larger, but never become wheat or pumpkin.

【8】 Born of a "black box," it would grow into a larger "black box" after taking root—like a potato that grows large but can never become wheat or pumpkin.

But none of this really mattered.

【9】 But none of this really mattered.

Oligarchs may be detestable, but they were still far better than feudalism.

【10】 Oligarchs may be detestable, but they're still far better than feudalism.

Just as a feudal king was preferable to a cannibalistic chieftain, this was undeniably a form of progress.

【11】 Just as a feudal king is better than a cannibal chief—this, too, is a kind of progress.

Looking at the four founding members of the Twilight Principality Council—including himself—Seron thought the council's composition was absurdly complex.

【12】 Looking at the four founders of the Dusk Duchy Council—including himself—Theron thought its composition was wildly complex.

A count whose territory was still under Campbell control, a nobleman who inexplicably inherited his title, a governor estranged from the king and flirting with foreign powers, and… himself, sidelined by the Holy Maiden and the New Testament.

【13】 A count whose lands still lay in Campbell hands, a nobleman who'd inexplicably inherited his title, a viceroy who was estranged from the Emperor and flirting with neighboring states, and… himself, hollowed out by the Holy Maiden and the New Covenant.

How could a single province produce so many abstract figures? Seron couldn't help but feel a bleak sorrow for his own treacherous future.

【14】 How could a single province muster so many abstract figures? Theron felt a bleak sorrow for his own doomed future.

Holy Cis…

【15】 Holy Sis above…

Is this also your doing?

【16】 Is this also your design?

But what filled Seron with even greater despair than sorrow was that after all four raised their hands, the other three simultaneously turned their gazes toward him.

【17】 Worse than the bleakness was the despair: when all four raised their hands, the other three simultaneously turned their gazes upon him.

Under the gaze of those three pairs of eyes, Seron felt every hair on his body stand on end.

【18】 Under those three pairs of eyes, Theron felt every hair on his body stand on end.

Alaric's baron had a simple thought: Lord Seron Gard's territory was the strongest; therefore, the position of future leader of the Twilight Principality rightfully belonged to him. According to the system the Duke had advised him on, without a duke, all power in the Twilight Principality rested with the council—so as a baron, he was content to serve as its chairman.

【19】 Baron Alaric's reasoning was simple: Lord Theron Gard's domain was the most powerful; the future head of the Dusk Duchy rightfully belonged to him. According to the system the Duke had advised him on, with no duke in place, all power rested with the Council—so as a baron, he himself was content to be its chairman.

As for the profit-driven Count Cormac, he was an extremely cunning man: while the honey in the hive was sweet, he'd never reach in himself. If he lost, he'd blame the Campbellers; if he won, he could always become the second-in-command.

【20】 As for the profit-driven Count Cormac, he was a man of extreme cunning: the honey in the hive was sweet, but he'd never reach in himself. If he lost, he'd blame the Campbellers; if he won, he could always be second-in-command.

As for Ed Tully…

【21】 As for Ed Tully…

He simply had no will of his own. When the other two looked at Seron, the young man suddenly realized—he was the mastermind all along!

【22】 He simply had no will of his own. When the other two looked at Theron, the young man suddenly realized—this fellow was the mastermind!

No wonder Seron had opened with that line—

【23】 No wonder Lord Theron had opened with that line—

"Let our governor speak first."

【24】 "Let our Viceroy speak first."

"Wait a minute—what do you mean?" Seron's lips turned pale as he squeezed himself against the back of his chair, which creaked under his bulk.

【25】 "Wait a minute—what do you mean?" Theron's lips turned pale; his bulky frame pressed against the chairback, creaking loudly.

He only wanted to be a count, enjoying food, drink, leisure, and women, and when he died, pass his title, wealth, and honor down to his sons. Being dragged into this council was already an accident—he didn't want to be pulled into even greater trouble!

【26】 He only wanted to be a count—eat, drink, play, sleep with girls, and when he died, pass his title, wealth, and honor down to his sons. Being dragged into this Council was already an accident; he didn't want to be pulled into bigger trouble!

But the three men's gazes told him that, once again, he had no choice.

【27】 But the three men's gazes told him: this time, he still had no choice.

Alaric stood and walked up to him, placing his hands on Seron's broad shoulders, staring at him intently.

【28】 Alaric rose, stepped before him, placed his hands on Theron's fat shoulders, and stared at him with burning eyes.

"The Twilight Province has no duke title; there's no time to create one now, nor is it necessary! All the current problems in the Twilight Province stem from a king wielding unchecked power!"

【29】 "The Dusk Province has no duke title; there's no time to create one now, nor any need! All the province's current problems stem from a king with unchecked power!"

"We intend to emulate the free cities along the Vortex Sea—like Thunder City, Foggy Harbor, and others… We will establish a semi-republican, non-hereditary autonomous regime with a citizens' council, where the province's future is decided collectively by nobles, guilds, and country gentry—not handed over to a king!"

【30】 "We intend to emulate the free cities along the Vortex Sea—Thundering City, Mistveil Harbor, and others… We will establish a semi-republican autonomous regime with a civic council and non-hereditary rule! The future of this province will be decided by nobles, guilds, and country gentry—not handed over to a king!"

Watching Seron, lips trembling and speechless, Alaric gave him no chance to refuse, declaring in an unchallengeable tone:

【31】 Watching Theron, lips trembling, speechless, Alaric gave him no chance to refuse, speaking with an unchallengeable tone.

"We intend for you to become the leader of the Twilight Principality!"

【32】 "We intend for you to be the head of the Dusk Duchy!"

……

【33】 …

Night fully enveloped Twilight City; even the moon hid its light, ashamed before the blasphemous figures below.

【34】 Night fully engulfed Dusk City; even the moon, ashamed at the blasphemers below, hid its light.

Seron thought Alaric the baron was truly despicable.

【35】 Theron thought Baron Alaric was utterly despicable.

Every word was his own idea, yet he always added an "us" at the end.

【36】 Every word was his own idea, yet he always added "we" at the end.

Only when seated in the carriage returning to his mansion did Seron finally realize—and suddenly understand—he'd have to do the same thing himself from now on!

【37】 Only when seated in the carriage returning to his mansion did he finally understand—and realize he'd do the same thing himself from now on.

In the future, whenever he disliked someone, he'd never say, "I hate you," but rather, "We hate you."

【38】 Next time he met someone he disliked, he'd never say "I hate you"—he'd say "We hate you."

No, he'd improve it further—

【39】 No, he'd improve it further—

We all hate you!

【40】 "We all hate you!"

Just by changing a few words, a straightforward duel between two men became a massive mob attack.

【41】 Just by changing a few words, a fair duel between two men became a massive mob attack.

Seron decided to inscribe this phrase into his family's ancestral code to teach his descendants.

【42】 Theron decided to inscribe this phrase into his family's ancestral code, to teach his descendants.

More deceitful than "fate" is the word "we."

【43】 More hypocritical than "fate" was "we."

Yet no matter how much he cursed Alaric the baron for being inhuman, he ultimately submitted, binding himself to the "Holy Council" carriage.

【44】 Yet no matter how much he cursed Baron Alaric as a monster, he ultimately submitted, binding himself to the "Council of Holy Light."

Whatever.

【45】 Whatever.

After all, two people were already riding on his neck—what was one more?

【46】 His neck already bore two riders; one more wouldn't matter.

As Count Seron silently prayed for his family's fate, the colossal beast slumbering along the northeastern shore of the Vortex Sea slowly opened its drowsy eyes and bared its sharp claws toward the arrogant king.

【47】 As Count Theron silently prayed for his family's fate, the beast slumbering along the northeastern shore of the Vortex Sea opened its drowsy eyes and bared its sharp claws and fangs toward the arrogant king.

Morning mist condensed into dew on the windowpanes as a modestly decorated black carriage rolled over a road paved with coal slag and came to a slow halt before the heavy cast-iron gates of Punk Armory.

【48】 Morning mist condensed into dew on the windowpanes; a modest black carriage rolled over a road paved with coal slag and halted before the heavy cast-iron gates of Punk Armory.

This factory was undoubtedly one of the most impressive buildings in the entire new industrial zone, having once been a royal armory warehouse.

【49】 This factory was undoubtedly one of the most imposing structures in the new industrial zone, having once been a warehouse for the Royal Armory.

Only one person in all of Thunder City possessed the influence to open another armory right beside the royal one.

【50】 In all of Thundering City, only one man had the power to open another armory beside the Royal Armory.

After the carriage stopped, the young driver hurried out and opened the door for the Prince.

【51】 The carriage halted; the young driver leapt down and opened the door for the Prince.

Punk was already waiting at the entrance.

【52】 Punk had already been waiting at the gate.

The former stablehand was no longer the thin, frail man he'd been over a year ago; his slightly pudgy frame was squeezed into a brown vest like a narrow barrel, a pocket watch chain dangling beside his bronze buttons, and a black top hat perched on his head.

【53】 The former groom was no longer the thin man of over a year ago; his slightly plump frame was squeezed into a brown vest like a narrow cask, a pocket watch chain dangling beside his bronze buttons, a black top hat on his head.

Seeing the Prince step from the carriage, Punk hurried forward, removed his hat with a smile, and bowed slightly.

【54】 Seeing the Prince step down, Punk hurried forward, removed his hat with a smile, and bowed slightly.

"Good morning, His Royal Highness Prince Corin—your presence brings honor to this humble factory!"

【55】 "Good morning, Your Highness Prince Corin! Your presence illuminates this humble factory!"

"Mr. Punk, you flatter me. Our factory is hardly small—there are few chimneys in the entire industrial zone more magnificent than ours."

【56】 "Mr. Punk, you flatter me. Our factory is no small thing—there are few chimneys in the entire industrial zone more magnificent than ours."

Royan chuckled warmly, then his gaze passed over Punk's shoulder to the slightly nervous man behind him.

【57】 Luo Yan spoke lightly, then his gaze passed over Punk's shoulder to the slightly nervous man behind him.

"This must be Chief Engineer Simon."

【58】 "This must be Factory Director Simon."

The man was around forty, tall and slender, wearing a faded work uniform.

【59】 The man was around forty, tall and thin, wearing a faded work uniform.

His knuckles were thick, his fingernails still stained with traces of oil; his focused, bright eyes looked more like those of a dedicated watchmaker than a factory manager.

【60】 His finger joints were thick, oil still caked under his nails; his focused, bright eyes looked less like a factory owner's and more like those of a dedicated watchmaker.

Punk Armory, the birthplace of "revolutionary weapons," needed precisely this kind of "engineer-type" manager.

【61】 Punk Armory produced "epoch-making weapons," and it needed precisely this kind of "engineer-type" director.

Clearly, Punk had put thought into this.

【62】 Clearly, Punk had put thought into this.

"Your Highness, good day," Simon bowed slightly, his voice hoarse but strong, "I am Simon, your faithful servant… welcome to inspect our facility."

【63】 "Your Highness, good day." Simon bowed slightly; his voice was hoarse but strong. "I am Simon, your faithful servant… Welcome to inspect our facility."

Clearly, Chief Simon had also prepared meticulously for this meeting.

【64】 Clearly, Director Simon had prepared long for this meeting.

His impeccable manners were surely practiced before a mirror.

【65】 His flawless manners had surely been practiced before a mirror.

"No need for formalities, Mr. Simon," Royan nodded, smiling as he shook his hand, "I've heard much of your reputation—Mr. Punk has praised you often."

【66】 "No need for formality, Mr. Simon." Luo Yan nodded, smiled, and shook his hand. "I've long heard of your name. Mr. Punk has spoken highly of you on many occasions."

"Really? Thank you."

【67】 "Is that so? Thank you."

Thank you?

【68】 Thank you?

Royan paused slightly, then smiled and released his hand.

【69】 Luo Yan paused slightly, then smiled and released his hand.

"You're welcome."

【70】 "You're too kind."

Simon felt his cheeks burn as hot as ironing irons, awkwardly unsure where to place his hands.

【71】 Simon's cheeks burned, red as hot irons; he fidgeted, unsure where to put his hands.

He hadn't expected the revered Prince to be so approachable—he'd actually shaken hands with a commoner like him!

【72】 He never imagined the revered Prince would be even more approachable than rumored—actually shaking hands with a commoner like him!

He quietly hid his hands behind his back, deciding not to wash them for the next two days.

【73】 He secretly hid his hands behind his back, deciding not to wash them for the next two days.

After brief pleasantries, Punk, fearing his honest factory chief might lapse into awkward silence, eagerly led the Prince deeper into the factory.

【74】 After brief pleasantries, Punk, fearing his honest factory director would lapse into awkward silence, eagerly led the Prince deeper into the factory grounds.

Everyone has their weaknesses—Simon, for instance, was terrible at socializing.

【75】 Everyone has things they're bad at—like his Director Simon, who was terrible at socializing.

Massive factory buildings loomed across the grounds, their brick chimneys belching dark smoke into the sky.

【76】 Massive workshops loomed across the grounds; brick chimneys belched dark smoke into the sky.

Female workers, sleeves rolled up, used modified "long-pole mops"—clotheslines with rags attached—to wipe condensation from second-floor windows. Workers pushed carts along steel monorails, carrying still-warm castings into the assembly hall, where the clanging and banging echoed with industry.

【77】 Female workers, sleeves rolled up, used improvised "long-pole mops" made from clotheslines and rags to wipe condensation from second-floor windows. Workers pushed carts along steel rails, sprinting to deliver still-warm castings to the assembly hall, where clanging and clattering filled the air with industry.

Even busier inside the workshops, day-shift workers had already begun their shifts, standing before long tables at the entrance, inspecting tools and awaiting foremen's assignments.

【78】 Even busier inside the workshops: the day-shift workers had already begun, standing before long tables near the entrance, inspecting tools and waiting for foremen to assign tasks.

"Your Highness! Look here!"

【79】 "Your Highness! Look!"

Standing beside a massive steam pipe, Punk had to raise his voice eightfold to be heard over the din from the adjacent workshop.

【80】 Standing beside the massive steam pipes, Punk had to raise his voice an octave to barely drown out the noise from the adjacent workshop.

"Everything here is state-of-the-art! One hundred skilled workers can assemble fifty Rocksey 1053 rifles per day! No other facility in the entire principality—no, not even across all of Ostland—can match this efficiency!"

【81】 "Everything here is state-of-the-art! One hundred skilled workers can assemble fifty Rocksey 1053 rifles per day! No other facility in the entire duchy—no, not even across all of Os Continent—can match this efficiency!"

He'd never been to the distant Holy City, but he imagined its conditions were much like the Duke's Royal Armory.

【82】 He'd never been to the distant Holy City, but he imagined its conditions were much like the Duke's Royal Armory.

Thinking of those haughty craftsmen in the Royal Armory, he couldn't help but smirk with pride.

【83】 Thinking of the haughty craftsmen in the Royal Armory, his lips curled with quiet pride.

"That ancient Royal Armory next door? Even with two hundred workers laboring nonstop, they'd barely produce twenty smoothbore muskets a day! We're not only faster—we're vastly superior in quality!"

【84】 "That ancient Royal Armory next door? Even with two hundred workers laboring nonstop, they can only hammer out twenty smoothbore muskets a day! We're not only faster—we're incomparably better in quality!"

"No wonder the Duke gave you the contract—he must be fed up with them," Royan laughed, though offered no further comment.

【85】 "No wonder the Duke gave you the contract—he must be fed up with them." Luo Yan laughed, but offered no further comment.

In truth, if those Royal Armory workers truly labored nonstop with double shifts, their output wouldn't be just twenty muskets a day.

【86】 In truth, if the Royal Armory's workers truly labored nonstop with double shifts, their output wouldn't be just twenty muskets a day.

But all noble servants share one flaw: a job gradually transforms from a "position" into a "privilege."

【87】 But all noble servants shared one flaw: a job, over time, became a privilege rather than a duty.

After all, Edward was far too busy to monitor a single factory, and his servants had to prioritize court duties. Their loyalty was unquestionable—far beyond mere monetary ties—but efficiency inevitably suffered.

【88】 After all, Edward, busy with state affairs, had no time to monitor a single factory, and his servants had to prioritize court duties. Their loyalty was unquestionable—far beyond mere financial ties—but their efficiency inevitably suffered.

Today's royal chef becomes tomorrow's factory manager, then a governor's secretary the next day, and the next time you see him, he's polishing his credentials at city hall.

【89】 Today's royal chef becomes tomorrow's factory director, then the day after that a bureaucrat in the Viceroy's office; next time you see him, he's polishing his reputation at city hall.

As long as the gun fires, they're happy—any explosion? Blame the peasants for using too much gunpowder.

【90】 As long as the gun fires, they're happy—and if it bursts, blame the peasants for using too much powder.

Of course, Edward was a wise Duke; the reliability of Campbell Principality's equipment was far superior to that of the Lyne Kingdom.

【91】 Of course, Edward was a wise Duke; the reliability of Campbell's equipment was far superior to that of the Lyne Kingdom.

Moreover, this Duke was clearly learning.

【92】 Moreover, this Duke was clearly learning.

That's precisely why Punk Armory received the principality's contract—not the Royal Armory. Clearly, the Duke understood that reform was needed not only in the council, but also in those outdated royal enterprises.

【93】 That's why Punk Armory received the duchy's contract, not the Royal Armory. Clearly, the Duke believed not only the Council but also the old royal industries needed reform.

But since this meant touching his own people's interests, he proceeded with caution.

【94】 But since this meant touching his own people's interests, he'd acted with subtlety.

Royan and Punk didn't approach too closely; they merely observed the factory from a distance.

【95】 Luo Yan and Punk kept their distance, merely observing the factory from afar.

Once the foremen assigned tasks, the workers quickly began their daily routines.

【96】 Once the foremen assigned tasks, the workers swiftly began their day's labor.

They methodically selected parts from wooden crates delivered by laborers, carefully filed and smoothed them at the long tables, then assembled them.

【97】 They methodically selected parts from wooden crates brought by laborers, carefully filed them on the long tables, then assembled them.

This was a craft.

【98】 This was a craft.

Limited by the era's technological constraints, neither Thunder City nor North Peak factories could yet produce standardized castings that were "made in isolation yet perfectly interchangeable."

【99】 Limited by the era's constraints, neither Thundering City's nor North Peak City's factories could yet produce standardized castings that required no adjustment.

Most parts required assembly workers to manually adjust them with files, scrapers, and grinders until they fit properly.

【100】 Most parts required assemblers to file, scrape, and grind them until they fit—before assembly could proceed.

Therefore, in addition to ordinary assembly workers, each assembly line in this workshop is also assigned a "Matcher," responsible for checking part compatibility and preventing "movable parts" from being forcibly installed as "fixed parts."

But these difficulties are temporary.

Once more advanced machine tools are developed, these assembly workers will be upgraded to experienced machinists, while assembly work will be handled by true assembly workers.

At that point, we might even be able to establish a true assembly line, further boosting production efficiency.

Looking at the finished products placed at the workshop entrance, Luo Yan casually picked up a "Roke 1053 Rifle," named after his father.

The straight barrel felt slightly heavy in hand, the wooden stock flowed with smooth lines, and the steel components reflected a cold metallic gleam, like a work of art.

Luo Yan skillfully pulled the lever; the receiver opened with effortless fluidity, producing a crisp, pleasant metallic clang.

"Ding—"

Closing the receiver, Luo Yan nodded in satisfaction.

He remembered that at the end of last year, the factory's products still lagged far behind those of Beifeng City's factories; now, these "counterfeits" were no worse than the "genuine articles" from the Colin Duchy.

No wonder it was the miracle of the northeastern shore of the Whirlpool Sea—the place where the "God of Machinery," Lin Te Isak, had once descended.

The industrial foundation here was truly extraordinary!

"... Excellent, Factory Director Simon. Your work is impressive. I hope you will continue to strive and contribute even more to Duke Campbell!"

Hearing the Prince's praise, Simon, who had been standing beside him, could not suppress his joy and exclaimed excitedly.

"Thank you for your affirmation, Your Highness! This is all due to the workers' efforts and the engineers' round-the-clock research! Of course... also due to Mr. Pangke's attention to us."

"You flatter me, Mr. Simon. I have done nothing." Pangke coughed modestly, his humility clearly imitating someone else's.

"You are all meritorious servants—I see it all... How about the orders?" Luo Yan set down the rifle and asked casually. "I'd like to know—how high is the demand for our rifles?"

At the mention of orders, Simon's eyes lit up instantly, like the kerosene lamps hanging above the workshop.

"Your Highness, you needn't worry at all! Our factory is thriving—orders are booked through next summer; we're overwhelmed! I'm already planning to build two new workshops to the south, aiming to raise monthly production to six thousand rifles within half a year! Then we'll be the Duchy's largest arms supplier!"

Luo Yan smiled.

He hadn't been worried—he'd only asked casually. Such a revolutionary weapon would never lack buyers; those seeking to buy were always more eager than those selling.

Currently, Pangke Armory's production capacity was insufficient to meet the Duchy's equipment needs.

Once production here scales up, it won't just be possible to become the Duchy's largest arms supplier—it could even become the arms factory for all "New Covenant" forces across the entire Os Continent!

But these distant goals weren't worth mentioning to the men beside him.

Seeing the Prince's indifferent reaction, Simon pulled out a small notebook from his pocket, flipped to a page, and eagerly pointed it out.

"... Look, Your Highness, these are our recent major orders! Not just these—Duke Campbell recently ordered a substantial batch of Roke 1053 Rifles without any of our factory's markings. Also, there's another batch of customized short-barreled rifles—shortened barrels, lighter, better suited for combat in jungles or confined terrain!"

Luo Yan nodded with a smile.

"It seems our clientele is growing."

The rifles without insignia would naturally go to Dusk Province—likely to arm the private troops of a few counts under the Holy Light Council.

The short-barreled rifles were undoubtedly for the Salvation Army, secretly training deep within the Wanren Mountains; it seemed the Duchy's intelligence agents had already made contact.

Just as he'd expected.

Edward's counterattack had begun—and far sooner than he'd anticipated.

Clearly, the dear Duke hadn't forgotten last winter's rebellion, or the blood spilled by the Campbells in the civil war. He'd vowed to make Theoden Devalu pay—and that price was already on its way.

"Indeed, Your Highness! Moreover, the Duchy's army has just issued a new tender—rumor has it, it's at the insistence of our Marshal Wesley!"

Simon continued enthusiastically, his voice brimming with anticipation of grand achievements.

"Our boys need a standard rifle with greater range and higher accuracy—to counter the supernatural soldiers charging across the battlefield, and to specifically target enemy centurions and drummers!"

"Oh? If such a weapon exists, I'm quite interested. Have you developed any ideas for securing this project?" Though the Great Graveyard already had something similar, Luo Yan spoke gently.

"Of course we have, Your Highness!"

Simon nodded eagerly and continued.

"We plan to infuse magic into the bullets through alchemy and inscriptions, and what remains to be solved is accuracy and range!"

"Currently, our engineering team is tackling a technical hurdle—they intend to replace the original metal rod connecting the receiver with a rotating bolt-action mechanism, similar to a door latch! This will greatly improve the receiver's sealing, allowing gunpowder gases to propel the bullet more fully, enhancing both range and precision!"

"If we can solve accuracy and range through mechanical improvements, we can dedicate more inscription space to enhancing bullet power!"

Damn.

The Dreyse Needle Gun?!

He hadn't expected these engineers to actually devise a bolt-action rifle. Luo Yan's face finally showed genuine interest—not just polite smiles.

"That's quite... an inventive idea. Mr. Simon, please convey to our engineers that I'm eagerly awaiting their results! If they need funding or equipment support, don't hesitate—ask Mr. Pangke directly."

As he spoke, Luo Yan glanced at Pangke.

Without needing the Prince's explicit hint, Pangke had already adopted a serious demeanor, looking intently at his factory director.

"Go ahead and do it, Mr. Simon. I will support this project with all my strength!"

Surprised by the Prince's serious attention to such a bold idea, Simon's voice trembled with excitement.

"Wonderful, Your Highness! I'll tell those boys right away! I bet they'll jump for joy when they hear your encouragement!"

Carrying this thrilling news, Simon rushed off to meet the factory's engineers, eager to get the project done before the Prince's eyes.

As for Pangke, he escorted Prince Colin out of the noisy workshop to a quieter office.

He dismissed his secretary and personally poured the Prince a cup of steaming black tea.

The tea's fragrance dispelled some of the heavy coal dust, adding a faint sweetness to the office air.

Luo Yan lifted the cup, sipped, and found the warm tea truly excellent—his eyebrows relaxed in comfort.

Pangke stood respectfully beside him.

This man who ruled the skies of Leiming City now stood as timidly as a secretary before the Prince.

"I heard the industrial district has been bustling lately," Luo Yan gazed out the window, then smiled casually. "I hear many factory directors are busy campaigning for seats in the next city council... Mr. Pangke, why don't you seem interested? Never thought of joining?"

"Your Highness, you jest," Pangke's round face broke into a simple smile, his tone sincere. "I'm merely a groom. I've managed to fulfill your orders only thanks to your support—how could I dare dream of such things?"

He lowered himself completely, placing himself in the role of a servant.

No matter how much others respected him, Pangke knew the truth.

He understood his current status—his transformation into a pivotal figure in Leiming City—was entirely due to Prince Colin standing behind him.

Without this man's aid, he'd still be a groom on the outskirts of Leiming City, no different from his farming neighbor.

That's why he dared not harbor even a whisper of disloyalty, nor dare to curry favor with the all-powerful Duke behind Prince Colin's back.

To be fair, Pangke had improved greatly since before—but he was still a hastily grown "Chosen One," lacking the political awareness of a self-made textile factory owner.

Watching Pangke's cautious demeanor, Luo Yan guessed his thoughts, shook his head with a smile, and set down his teacup.

"You're too modest, Mr. Pangke. I've seen your work—I've never doubted your ability or loyalty."

Pangke's face broke into a simple smile as he tucked his black top hat against his chest.

"Serving you is my honor."

"Having a servant like you is my honor."

Luo Yan nodded, speaking gently.

"But sometimes, I hope you'll broaden your thinking. For instance... consider yourself a partner of the Colin Group, not merely Prince Colin's white glove."

Pangke's heart lurched; sweat broke out on his brow—he nearly collapsed to his knees.

What... what did that mean?!

His mind raced, frantically searching for where he'd offended the Prince.

Seeing Pangke drenched in sweat, Luo Yan chuckled.

"... Look at you. I'm speaking seriously, and you're still overanalyzing my words."

"Your Highness, I..." Pangke opened his mouth, stammering helplessly.

"Enough. Don't stand. I'm not testing you—sit down and talk."

Luo Yan lifted a finger; the teapot floated up and poured a cup for Pangke.

Pangke sat stiffly, cradling the cup, sipping cautiously.

Luo Yan continued.

"Also, I meant what I said earlier. Leiming City is like a carriage racing forward—new things emerge daily. I hope you'll keep pace. If you won't accept my charity, how about this: I'll lend you money. Buy some shares of the Colin Group—start with 1%."

To him, worldly money was just a number—he'd never bothered to count how much he had.

As a senior employee who'd risen to "CEO of Leiming Division," Pangke deserved proper reward.

Paying workers nothing was the act of slaveowners—demons didn't do that.

Of course, not everyone could sit down and talk with the Demon Lord. For instance, when managing the goblins of Blackwind Fortress, he had entirely different methods.

As a Demon Lord who understood human nature, he knew how to respond to his demons' inner desires.

For succubi, he used succubus methods. For vampires... well, he really had no good tricks for them.

Seeing Prince Colin wasn't testing him, Pangke gave a bitter smile, paused, then spoke.

"Your Highness, I'm deeply grateful for your generosity, but I feel unworthy of so much. I... I'm just a groom."

Luo Yan shook his head.

"That's precisely the problem, Mr. Pangke. Why do you think a groom isn't worthy of becoming a gentleman as respectable as a noble? Take Sir Andes—I'm sure his ancestors didn't start with a surname."

Watching Pangke lost in thought, Luo Yan continued.

"I have great faith in you. I hope you'll be more ambitious—more daring. I want the citizens of Leiming City, when they speak of you, to say, 'Pangke, the founder of the Pangke family, was an extraordinary fellow,' not, '... Oh, Pangke? I know him—Prince Colin's white glove. Without the Prince, he's nothing.' Do you understand?"

Silence lingered.

Pangke took a deep breath, looked up at Prince Colin, and spoke earnestly.

"I understand, Your Highness. Thank you for your advice—I'll consider it carefully... No, I will do it!"

He now understood Prince Colin's meaning.

Prince Colin hopes he will have a place on the principality's political stage, not merely as a obedient servant.

More than that—

He has placed even greater expectations upon you; that respected prince wishes you to become a true Campbell man of integrity!

Watching Pank awaken to understanding, Luo Yan nodded in satisfaction; it was worth taking time from his busy schedule to guide this fellow.

As the Demon King, he has no shortage of servants, but he lacks a few clever men like Jan Andes.

Moreover, what is now being traded on the market in Lei Ming City is not merely the stock of the Colin Group, but the rising Campbell Principality itself.

The royal house is, for the first time in history, sharing its authority with the citizens to balance the power of internal conservative factions.

This process is bound to give birth to many new legends; it would be a shame not to ride this wave.

This fellow has every opportunity to participate, in the not-too-distant future, in drafting the "Charter" that the Campbell Principality will inevitably embrace.

He has the chance to be remembered in history!

"You understand now, Pank. Just like Foreman Simon's 'Lock Rifle,' I expect the same from you!"

(End of Chapter)