Valley of the Wind truly shone brightly at this Conference of Nations.
Whether it was new planting techniques or implied medical methods, the delegates' eyes ignited an undisguised desire.
Most importantly, the Valley of the Wind also received overt support from the industrial powerhouse Pejite, which, for an ordinary settlement, is synonymous with soaring to new heights.
In contrast, the speeches by the representatives of the following countries seemed rather unremarkable.
Representatives from the oil city of Pakashe expressed a desire to strengthen exchanges on oil refining technology with other countries; the largest industrial farm, Melting Mountain City, expressed interest in acquiring more high-efficiency nutrient solutions; and another city-state renowned for its textile industry hoped to obtain the cultivation techniques of the Valley of the Wind to increase the yields of flax and cotton.
In short, they were all routine and insignificant collaboration requests.
Soon, in order of seating, all the representatives finished their first round of speeches.
According to the procedure, as the moderator Gore should announce that the meeting has entered the second phase, which will involve intelligence exchange and discussion.
Gore slowly rose from his seat, but did not immediately announce the next item on the agenda.
He placed his hands lightly on the table, a complex expression on his face.
"I have heard all your requests, and they are very insightful."
"However, before proceeding to the next step, please allow me, as the host of this conference and—the owner of the Mining Town for forty years—to say a few words on a different topic."
A slight commotion arose in the meeting room, and several delegates exchanged glances, which was unusual.
Gore seemed oblivious to the questioning gazes; his eyes drifted away as he lost in memories.
Many years ago, I was also a young man full of ideals. At that time, I had just graduated from college and became a junior administrative officer in the mining department.
Back then, I was young and energetic, eager to achieve something great and bring honor to my family.
Gore shook his head, seemingly mocking his own naiveté back then.
He then looked up at the luxurious decorations, bright lights, and smooth Ceramic Steel walls of the conference hall.
"Unfortunately, I wasn't very lucky, or rather, I'm not good at interpersonal relationships, and I unintentionally offended my boss."
As a result, I was relegated to be the mayor of this then-desperate Mining Town.
Back then, there were no such good things here. There were only dusty and dirty Ceramic Steel workers using the most primitive tools to mine Ceramic Steel.
I tried my best; I truly gave it my all.
I led the townspeople to clear abandoned mine tunnels, improve mining methods, and travel far and wide to find markets—we even developed three new underground mines.
Gore's words made some people who knew the history of the Mining Town nod in agreement; he did indeed have an undeniable contribution to the development of the Mining Town.
"But what was the result?" Gore's voice lowered. "We're still just a mining town under Pejite, with no autonomy whatsoever, a mere source of raw materials."
Most of the profits were siphoned off by the mining officials and pocketed by merchants from the capital. The townspeople's lives went from barely making ends meet to just getting by.
The prosperity and luxury of Pejite are none of our concern; all we need to do is obediently serve as their blood transfusions.
The delegates frowned, sensing that Gore's seemingly bittersweet words might have a hidden meaning.
Gore continued recounting his past.
"Until one day, I accidentally discovered something."
Some caravans' cargo manifests didn't match the actual goods, and some ordinary people in the town suddenly became wealthy, all because they were engaged in shady dealings.
Human traffickers, middlemen who sell stolen goods to bandits, and black market dealers who smuggle all kinds of contraband from the kingdom—these maggots of the underworld have somehow extended their tentacles into my town.
At the time, I was furious and ordered a thorough investigation, arresting several people in preparation for severe punishment.
But soon, pressure came from all sides. They told me that if the water is too clear, there will be no fish, and that it's better for everyone to turn a blind eye to some things.
Some warnings were even sent directly through official channels.
I began to hesitate, telling myself it was for the stability of the town, to prevent our lives, which had just begun to improve, from regressing.
He spread his hands, making a helpless gesture.
There are always people who say, "If you can't get rich by being an official, you can't become an official by getting rich."
However, seeing others easily amass enormous wealth while you and your subjects endure hardship—those of you in high positions may have some understanding of that feeling.
So I agreed to their "rules".
No sooner had he finished speaking than a representative couldn't help but interject, " Gore! What do you mean by that? Are you admitting that you've colluded with those lawless scoundrels?"
"Heh, maybe."
Gore glanced at the man, completely unconcerned about his reaction.
"But the fact is, since then, life in the Mining Town has started to get better. The roads have been widened, the trading market has become more lively, there are more caravans coming and going, and the income of the townspeople has indeed increased."
And I, too, rose from a small Mining Town to a high-ranking member of the International Confederation of Wizards.
Gore's tone suddenly took on a hint of wistfulness as he spoke words that had been swirling in his mind for years.
"In short, by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late to stop."
I've asked myself this before: how high of an official position is enough? The Director-General of the Pejite Mining Bureau? The Chairman of the Commercial Federation? Or...? Ah, I'm too eager for advancement."
The meeting room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone was stunned by Gore's frank, almost confessional, account.
However, just as the sigh was fading, Gore's tone suddenly changed.
"Then I realized that the more you rely on following the rules and working hard, the more you revolve within the rules set by others, the less likely you are to achieve your goals. Power has its limits."
"Therefore, I no longer want to be the mayor; I want to become the true ruler of the Sea of Corruption Kingdoms!"
His right hand suddenly rose, his five fingers slowly closing in the air, as if he were trying to grasp invisible power into his palm.
At this signal, the two wooden doors of the conference room leading to the corridor and the side hall were kicked open from the outside, and soldiers with ferocious beast masks on their faces and wearing bronze armor decorated with animal skins rushed into the conference room.
(Original artwork of the Dorok Soldier)
They moved swiftly, pointing their oddly shaped rifles, some with bayonets, at each delegate and their entourage.
Dorok monk soldiers!
Exclamations erupted, but facing well-prepared and armed monks, any rash action could trigger a bloody massacre.
Gore had already strolled leisurely behind the Dorok monks, believing that the situation was already settled.
" Pejite's powerful industrial system! Pejite's once-glorious exploration industry! And you, Princess Nausicaä, with your coveted ancient technologies from the Valley of the Wind!"
His voice rose with excitement, echoing throughout the cold, oppressive atmosphere of the meeting room. "All of these should belong to me Gore!"