One Hundred Million Bounty Wanted (Seeking Recommendation Tickets)

Rein had no idea about any legion commanders rebelling; that was a matter for the top nobles to worry about. He, a mere commoner, only needed to listen.

But when he sensed the abnormal, drastic drop in temperature around him, he knew things might not be good.

This scene had previously occurred when Ymir had awed the "Jackalmen" pack into retreat.

Rein vaguely felt that something major might have happened and glanced at the powerful figure beside him.

As expected, her face was like frost.

Her pair of emerald eyes were as cold as a knife's edge.

From their interactions over the past few days, he knew that this powerful figure, who always maintained a calm expression, wouldn't even frown if the mountains collapsed.

But seeing her solemn expression now, the situation was likely more complicated than he had heard.

Rein felt that she must know Baron Askpa, the Storm General.

Or perhaps, her true identity was that general's daughter?

Paul, however, was unaware of the source of the chilling cold that inexplicably gave him goosebumps. He shivered, pulling the collar of his cashmere coat tighter, and looked up at the sky, complaining, "Damn it, it looks like a blizzard is coming."

He paused, then looked at Rein again and asked, "Doctor, the train is about to depart. Have you made up your mind?"

"This..."

At this point, there were clearly no other options besides taking this train.

Rein pursed his lips, not answering immediately. Instead, he glanced at the powerful figure beside him.

Ymir seemed indifferent to whether they took the train. After a moment's thought, she turned to Paul and asked a very strange question, "Do you have a radio on your train?"

"Yes."

Paul was baffled by the question.

But he instinctively added, "However... the usage fee is very expensive."

"Get on board."

Hearing this, Ymir said no more and decisively boarded the carriage.

Rein vaguely guessed some of her thoughts and followed her.

Paul followed with a suspicious look, closing the door.

The cold wind outside was instantly shut out, and the temperature inside the carriage became much warmer.

Ymir inquired about the radio again.

The train attendant thought he misheard and repeated, "Um... did you say you want to use the train's radio?"

Ymir: "Yes."

"This..."

Paul suddenly couldn't figure out their identities, mainly because Ymir's aura was too powerful. Even though she was dressed ordinarily, she exuded an undeniable dominance like someone of a higher status.

He involuntarily used respectful language: "You should know that using the communication equipment is very expensive. Even for acquaintances of the guild, it costs... ten Gold Kron!"

In this world, wireless communication was still in its nascent stages. Due to the obstruction of the mist, long-distance communication required the establishment of numerous signal base stations and manual relay stations. The equipment was bulky and outdated, and communication fees were extremely high.

Coincidentally, trains belonging to large guilds like the Thornbird Merchant Guild had one.

Ten Gold Kron, which was ten million Liso.

This was an absolutely exorbitant price. Saying a single sentence was equivalent to a common family's annual living expenses; it was an act of absolute luxury.

Upon hearing this, Ymir turned and asked Rein behind her, "Do you have money? Lend me a hundred Gold Kron."

"Yes..."

Ymir asking to borrow money gave Rein the feeling of "Bill Gates asking you for five bucks," and he agreed casually.

Meanwhile, Paul, the attendant, was completely bewildered by their conversation.

What kind of families did these two come from? They could just borrow a hundred Gold Kron like that?

Listening to their nonchalant tone, it was as if they weren't borrowing a hundred million Liso, but a hundred copper coins?!

He had initially thought the young doctor was in charge, but it turned out this cold lady was the one calling the shots.

And judging by their demeanor, it seemed like a noble young lady traveling with her butler.

But their attire didn't suggest that!

Yet, with a single request for a hundred Gold Kron, they were too wealthy to be mere scavengers.

But if they were nobles, why would they be wandering the wasteland instead of enjoying themselves in the city?

Could it be a noble lady eloping with her private doctor?

Yes, that was probably the only possibility.

At this moment, Paul, who had been making up his own story, looked at Rein and the lady with a strange expression.

Woooo... woooo... woooo...

The roar of the steam boiler sounded, and the train slowly began to move forward, disappearing into the mist of the wasteland.

The train cars were packed with people due to the war, and the air was thick and stale.

Sometimes Rein felt that having an overly sensitive sense of smell wasn't always a good thing.

There was the smell of sweat, tobacco, food, excrement, and a sweet aroma.

As an alchemist, Rein could now identify the strawberry scent in the carriage as "Blue Dreamland," a low-grade hallucinogen that induced mental pleasure. It was a byproduct of anesthetic refinement and popular among thugs and gangsters.

The mixture of smells in the carriage was absolutely overwhelming!

Rein gave Paul a tip of two silver coins, and he led them directly through the common carriages into the business class section towards the front of the train.

After paying, Ymir entered the communication room alone.

Before long, she came out.

All the one hundred gold coins Rein had given her had gone into the radio operator's pocket.

Sending a message cost ten Gold Kron, no wonder they needed to borrow money.

Originally, Paul had intended to find a doctor for the civilian carriages he managed, so that sick passengers wouldn't die during the long migration, or spread diseases to others on the train.

He had initially thought Rein was a wasteland doctor forced to wander the wilds due to poverty. He never expected such a lavish expenditure of one hundred gold coins just to send a telegram, which completely embarrassed him.

Now that he had picked up two "suspected nobles," Paul no longer dared to be negligent, acting as respectfully as a servant.

The class divisions in this world were very clear; nobles were truly "superior"!

After Ymir finished sending the telegram, he approached them and reported, "Respected sir and madam, I just went to inquire for you. A gentleman in the middle carriages has agreed to give up a private room. It's not very spacious, but it's the best I could secure. It only costs two gold coins."

Rein didn't say anything, as he felt it didn't matter where they were.

Looking at the condition of the train, with people on the roof, just having space to stand was good enough; what more could one ask for?

Instead, he felt that two gold coins for a seat was a bit expensive. Although they had become rich twice over, money shouldn't be wasted like this.

Finding a private room was naturally about considering the feelings of the important figure, Ymir, beside him.

Paul paused, seeing that they weren't speaking, and assumed they were dissatisfied. He nervously explained, "You know, those noble lords in the front carriages have no shortage of money. The spots there are probably unavailable..."

Before Paul could finish, Ymir nodded, "Alright."

Seeing the important figure make the decision, Rein also chimed in, "Mr. Paul, please take us there."

As he spoke, he handed over another two Kron and a tip of ten Silver Nar.

Paul happily accepted the money, beaming, "Certainly, please follow me."

Money truly made things easier.

Rein also experienced the thrill of spending money for convenience. They had paid nearly ten times the price for a room compared to the original train ticket of one or two thousand Liso.

However, compared to Ymir, who had sent ten telegrams for one hundred gold coins, Rein felt like a country bumpkin.

The middle carriages of the train had private rooms partitioned with sheet metal, somewhat resembling "hard sleepers" from his previous life.

The room Paul found for them was, as he had said, rather cramped.

The entire partitioned room was less than two meters wide, with only a one-meter-wide bed and a passage just wide enough to squeeze through sideways. For safety, there were no windows, only a fist-sized ventilation opening, making it as cramped as a can of sardines.

But Rein felt quite satisfied. At least it was a private room, much better than the crowded conditions in the previous common carriages.

Ymir didn't say anything and walked straight in. He naturally followed her, trotting along.

Paul gave them a suggestive smile and said, "Please rest well, and if you need anything, you can find me directly. I can help with most minor matters on the train."

After saying that, he closed the door, and the noise from the carriage corridor was immediately shut out.

Ymir remained silent. After entering the room, she sat cross-legged on the bed and began meditating.

Rein was used to it. He put down his luggage, took off his gas mask, and also began meditating.

Having spent these past few days together, they had a good understanding of each other's personalities and were accustomed to this "silent" way of interacting.

Rein knew she was probably in a bad mood but didn't try to curry favor or ask what she had sent in the telegram.

Following the important figure, it was best to just be a "tool."

Meanwhile.

Shortly after Rein and his group boarded, several gangsters on the train were comparing a wanted poster as they searched from carriage to carriage.

"Hey, what's the deal with this guy on the wanted poster? Someone's offering a hundred million in the black market to find him?"

"Who knows? Maybe some big noble got cuckolded and is furious, putting out a bounty on the affair? Otherwise, who has so much money to waste on a black market wanted poster? If they're a criminal, why not just get them officially wanted?"

"If we run into him, we'll be lucky! Tsk tsk, that's a bounty of a hundred million Liso. If I get that money, I'll spend a year drinking in the best tavern in the city, with the best girls, drinking the best wine."

"You never know! The news has already spread, and the entire country's underworld is looking for him. That guy can't go to the main city and can only flee everywhere. Maybe he's on this very train."

"..."

As the thugs chatted, they roughly forced every passenger in the carriages to remove their face coverings for comparison.

If Rein were here, he would be extremely annoyed.

Because he could recognize at a glance that the portrait in the hands of these gangsters was exactly his own face!

To say I'm slow, I feel so wronged. Writing over 5500 words a day is already considered a lot for a new book. Looking at my peers, I've unknowingly written ten to twenty thousand more words than them, which is very disadvantageous during the new book period. Therefore, I shamelessly ask all the great authors to vote. If you don't mind the trouble, a small reward would be appreciated, as it will improve the new book's ranking, leading to more recommendations. The guaranteed explosive updates after hitting the shelves will be more sustainable. Thank you!