Everything went smoothly after that. Luo Ming and his men quickly crossed the mountains through the tunnel, then visited several settlements on the northern plains according to the map.
In the wilds south of the mountains, there were still plenty of herders, along with a sizable white-worm farming industry. But things were different once they reached the north.
Light-rail lines and roads were more densely packed, and many desert folk had built new towns around the ruins of old city-states, where they lived alongside human immigrants. Mines, factories, and farmland were also gradually becoming more common.
The last stop on Luo Ming's route was a valley city less than a thousand kilometers from Tulong. The locals called it Creekwood Town.
A flat, fertile plain lay before the town, watered by a stream. It was clearly the result of high-tech agricultural and pastoral development. The fields meant for human crops were already bare, an obvious sign that the harvest had been rushed.
Creekwood Town's representative was an elder Luo Ming had met once before in Tulong. The handover went smoothly, so Luo Ming ventured a question or two. "It's good the grain's in storage. But, Old Wang, when those Imperial bastards arrive, they'll requisition the grain too, won't they?"
"Ha! You think they'll come all this way in those grand battleships just to steal grain? Would there be enough to cover their fuel costs? Are those Imperial bastards even more bored than the Katai were?" The old man took a puff from his pipe.
"They'll have to requisition something, won't they? Otherwise, wouldn't they have come all this way for nothing? It's also a way of demonstrating their authority."
"Fair point... Hey, you've got a funny way of thinking, kid. You're a Mooner, for crying out loud, and you've already accepted