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Mystery Paradise: Wishing Power Demon-Chapter 292 - 291 This Place Is Ruined
Chapter 292: Chapter 291 “This Place Is Ruined
Chapter 292 -291 “This Place Is Ruined
The Paradise Sect’s first day in control of Thistlefort passed smoothly, ensuring even the taverns remained open for business. Everyone involved in the construction teams was paid their wages for the day as promised, leading to an unbelievable sight within the city: despite the widespread rumors of famine, most restaurants, bars, and brothels were packed in the evening. People, having received their handsome pay, indulged in enjoyment and treated themselves as their first order of business.
“How can this be?”
Inside the Baron’s mansion, Sergey paced back and forth, feeling an irrepressible blaze of frustration within him. He had never anticipated that things would turn out this way: Before his side had even assembled the people to spread the rumors of famine, the Paradise Sect had already announced the situation, as if in fear that people wouldn’t be aware of it.
Not only that, but they also made public their subsequent plans, such as purchasing surplus grain from local nobles and merchants to refill the granaries and buying large quantities of food from other regions; the renovation of the land outside the south gate was also a project set to gather food. They even guaranteed that within three days, everyone would see that the food crisis would be completely solved.
“My family’s restaurant has been closed at your request… Those country bumpkins won’t really be able to secure a stable footing, will they?” a nobleman said with some dissatisfaction. “I’ve heard that the businesses on every street are packed tonight, and then there’s the two years of tax exemption—that’s a hefty sum of money!”
“Calm down!” Baron Rota sneered inwardly; lesser nobles were just that, unable to hold their own. “What was Thistlefort like before today? The military in strict control, a curfew at night, entertainment restrictions, and the slums of the outer city overrun with gangs… Those fools have been pent up for almost a month, and now they suddenly have money in their hands, so it’s only natural for them to make a fuss. What are you so worried about?”
“The Paradise Sect is really bold, opening the granaries for people to see. Aren’t they afraid of inciting looting?” Sergey muttered.
“Looting? The people guarding there are all armed; anyone wanting to loot would have to consider whether they have the strength to do so,” sighed Buleike, the General Manager of Jianling Company. “I have to admit, the Paradise Sect is in the spotlight at the moment; even if they were blatantly lying, some people would choose to believe them. This sect must have some real experts!”
Indeed. Rota admitted this to himself.
They were really paying wages, and they truly dared to kill.
In a single night, the outer city saw the addition of hundreds of gibbets, all hanging the heads of gang leaders. However, unlike the deeds of the Airco camp, this execution was met with unanimous cheers. It was also a form of deterrence, aimed at those who doubted the capabilities of the Paradise Sect.
And so was the distribution of high wages on the spot.
The opening of shelters for the homeless and the distribution of free relief grain as well.
They delivered on every promise they made, imbuing the words of the Paradise Sect with an exceptional sense of authority. Coupled with the lifting of the curfew, the departure of the Airco camp, and the civil war within the Kingdom… People were not ignoring the danger of famine due to any single issue; it was the result of many factors coming together.
“We’re not… really going to clash with a Heretical Cult, are we?” another merchant said tentatively. “I heard that during the battles with the Kingdom’s border forces, followers woke up from among the dead, impossible to kill! Maybe the public outside has already been brainwashed—”
“Nonsense!” Sergey, Rota, and Buleike interrupted in unison.
“Have you seen those people resurrect with your own eyes? When the gunfire was roaring outside, were you not cowering at home scared to death, afraid to even poke your head out?” Sergey lashed out in anger, “If those people were from a Heretical Cult, Thistlefort would have been a dead city by now!”
“I’ve seen real cultists; they looked at me the same way they looked at a stone on the roadside, so don’t spread such silly rumors anymore,” Rota shook his head. When would these fools ever learn? “I’ve already sent people out with image-recording devices to create a physical record.”
“A shadowgraph camera? What did you photograph?”
“Thistlefort’s grain storage.”
“The grain storage…” Sergey thought for a moment and then realized, “You want to inform the outside grain merchants about Thistlefort’s shortage of grain!”
Rota’s lips curled slightly. He wasn’t any grand noble, but his family had managed to survive up to this day due to certain abilities and methods. The Paradise Sect only thought about stabilizing the hearts of the locals with an open attitude, yet they also left themselves vulnerable. Merchants are all after profit; after knowing about Thistlefort’s grain shortage, would they still do business at a reasonable price? The answer was obvious.
Of course, this tactic couldn’t fundamentally cut off the grain purchased from the outside, but as long as the merchants chose to wait and see, it would significantly delay the process of replenishing the granaries or greatly reduce the purchasing amount of the Paradise delegates.
“Sergey, you should also take some measures, right?”
“Of course, I had someone take out a box of gold bars. Bribing the various railway administrations should delay the transport of grain quite a bit,” Sergey said with bulging eyes. “I don’t believe the Paradise Sect can feed the whole city within a few days.”
“That’s right,” Rota nodded with satisfaction, “No matter how much they fuss, distributing relief grain and ordering restaurants and hotels to continue operating, at the end of the day the city’s food reserves are dwindling. At most four days… or five days, when the porridge becomes watered-down gruel and all the residents’ food supplies are exhausted, no matter how they talk up a storm, they won’t be able to reverse the panic.”
This speech reinvigorated the mood of the assembled crowd.
“Gentlemen, let’s call it a day for today’s meeting,” Rota finally concluded. “From here on out, I ask everyone to meet here at the same time every day to share the latest information. At this critical moment, we must stand united to achieve the final victory!”
After everyone nodded and dispersed, only Buleike remained. Then, Baron Thorn called out to him, “I have a question for you, Buleike. You’ve taken on the most construction projects and should have quite the experience with building. Can you figure out… what exactly is the Paradise Church doing with the construction project they’re carrying out outside the south gate?”
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Buleike looked at him in surprise, “You’re worried about this?”
That’s why he’d refrained from bringing it up earlier when everyone was still present.
“Someone revealed to me that their shelters are employing more than a dozen nuns, some of whom have the insignia of the God of Knowledge Ninata on their robes… Let’s not talk about why these followers of Ninata would mingle with the Paradise Sect, but I’ve read in historical texts that this divinity once imparted agricultural technologies like farming and seed selection to their followers,” Rota said earnestly. “I’m worried that the Paradise Church might possess some special agricultural knowledge, like making wheat sprout within a few days…”
“I see,” Buleike nodded understandingly, but quickly laughed, “That divinity has been missing for over a hundred years, hasn’t she? And don’t worry, that land is already barren; it can’t grow any food. Of course… it also can’t be built upon. Instead of calling it construction, it’s more akin to destruction.”
“Oh? How so?”
“They’re haphazardly filling the land with stones, pebbles, broken stones, and all kinds of bricks and rubble. If that’s not wasting land, what is? Even if it were for building foundations, that’s not the way to do it,” shrugged Buleike. “Another possibility is that it’s preparation work for building a road, but that’s unlikely too, because road bases need uniform stone material, preferably similar-sized cobblestones, mixed with coarse sand. Besides, roads are built in lines, not patches, and with forests all around, where can such a road lead if built? All they’re doing is wasting labor and materials without any significant reason.”
“Let me put it to you this way,” he declared confidently, “unless that piece of land is redeveloped and the rubble cleared, it will remain useless for the next decade or so, at best overgrown with weeds and unsuitable for any productive activity.”