Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Development Phase Begins

Olina gazed at the refugees outside, a trace of pity flickering in her eyes, yet she took no action. She lacked the power to help them, to lift them from their plight—stepping forward now would only deepen their despair.

It was just like when she herself had been surrounded and beaten by a crowd years ago. Someone had stepped out, trying to stop the bullies, but had ultimately been scared off. The feeling back then was unbearable—like falling into water, clutching a rope in sudden hope of rescue, only for the rope to snap just as she was about to be pulled out.

“Olina, what do you think we should do with these refugees?” Qin Le suddenly asked.

Caught off guard, Olina hesitated, then answered thoughtfully, “We cannot take them in.”

“Why not?”

“There simply isn’t enough food within the territory.”

“What if they attack the settlement?”

“It won’t be just them.”

“And how would you stop them?”

“Kill…” Olina’s lips parted, but she swallowed the word before it was fully spoken.

“We guard the gate, not letting them into the base, but give them what food we can spare—just enough that they might barely survive.”

It was a naïve answer, but Qin Le didn’t truly believe Olina was naïve. She knew what needed to be done—or at least sensed it—but she dared not speak it aloud.

Olina’s kindness was nothing short of miraculous, yet her childhood and the environment around her inevitably shaped her, leaving their mark.

Suddenly, the refugees grew restless. Several near the gate broke through the soldiers’ line, dashing frantically toward the base.

It was as if a signal had been given. The faint hope in the refugees’ eyes began to spiral out of control. In their minds, there was abundant food inside—if they reached the black-haired people within, surely some of it would be shared. If only they could break through, they could eat their fill, they could survive.

As for the gratitude owed for the food handouts of recent days, that had long been forgotten.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunshots boomed like thunder. The dozen or so refugees at the front fell instantly, crimson blood pooling beneath them.

Heavy weaponry within the base was trained on the refugees. If they lost control, the soldiers would use whatever means necessary to stop them—even heavy firepower.

“Evacuate to beyond one hundred paces from the gates within three minutes, or we will open fire.”

A voice, amplified from the massive speakers atop the gate’s watchtower, carried to every refugee’s ear.

Their reason returned in an instant. All movement ceased. At last, with dull, defeated faces, the refugees drifted back to where they’d been.

It had all happened so quickly that those in the vehicle barely had time to react.

“Olina, your kindness is truly precious. Do you know why?” Qin Le looked out at the refugees.

These people were pitiful—yet dangerous.

“Because the vast majority of people are ugly, selfish creatures—including myself. Never trust human nature, nor put it to the test.”

Truth be told, at first Qin Le had disliked Olina. She seemed inhuman, an anomaly in this world. And knowing her background—growing up in the slums, yet still retaining such pure kindness—made that aversion even stronger. Only now did Qin Le realize that this dislike was not truly for Olina, but for the baseness of his own nature.

Why, as a princess, do you care so much for the common people? Why do you sacrifice your own interests to help others? How can you remain so kind after such a childhood?

At times, Qin Le found himself plagued by inexplicable, dark thoughts—wondering what Olina would become if she were ever utterly broken.

...

Back inside the base, Qin Le did not linger long before heading straight to the heart of the compound, into the castle that had been converted into the command center.

The spacious conference room’s portal opened slowly, and the brain trust’s experts poured through, swiftly taking their seats.

Qin Le wasted no time, occupying the head chair and gathering the intelligence reports on the table, which he began to review at once.

The room was hushed—only the sound of pages turning broke the silence. In truth, everyone present except Qin Le had read these documents countless times, or even written them themselves.

Ten minutes later, Qin Le set the papers aside, urgency weighing on his heart.

“Time waits for no one. It seems we must move faster.”

At present, the nations’ measures against Xuanlu were no longer limited to blockades. They had begun military probes, testing the true extent of Xuanlu’s power—gauging whether they could shatter it without suffering irreparable losses themselves.

Xuanlu’s leadership had long seen through this. Their response to the recent southern bay conflict was resolute, even preparing for war—a move that had promptly frightened the other nations into pulling back, wary of driving Xuanlu to madness.

On the surface, it appeared to be Xuanlu’s victory. To the other countries, Xuanlu still possessed formidable military strength, and open war would be mutually destructive. They had yet to recover from the First World War; to rush into conflict now might spell their own ruin.

In reality, however, Xuanlu was strong in appearance only, propped up by the old empire’s deep foundations. In another decade or so, its weaknesses would be laid bare.

Within its borders, there were not enough resources to sustain heavy industry—no oil, for example. Under the old empire, they could plunder raw materials from colonies, fueling rapid development. Now, as a republic, there were no such colonies, and the government would never permit colonial ventures.

In light of this, Xuanlu’s leaders had conceived a grand plan long ago, though it had been interrupted by the emergence of the new world.

“I’ve understood the situation. What do we need to do now?” Qin Le asked.

The brain trust handed him the documents—not for his comment or to craft plans, but so he would comprehend the strategy to follow. The republic’s vast team of experts had already devised countless detailed plans, covering every aspect imaginable.

Yet, the brain trust were human, and mistakes could occur. No plan was flawless. For example, the civilian management plan for the new world, crafted by the expert group, failed because it had not accounted for ingrained servility.

Compared to various gentle policies, a quasi-military form of management actually gave the civilians greater peace of mind.

Qin Le’s task was to decide, to grant the brain trust the authority to carry out their plans.

The spokesperson of the brain trust stood and said, “We have already succeeded in creating a relatively stable environment. King of Dawn stands with us, and basic security is assured. We may proceed to the next phase: development.”

“The development phase will proceed in three steps. First, increase transport capacity. Second, build roads. Third, establish factories.”