Let MapleStory experience the Fourth Calamity

Chapter 118 The Fantasy of Treasure Island's Business Empire

Lazy Da Niu and Wang Liang grabbed iron crowbars and jumped directly into the defensive trench.

The armored boars at the bottom of the pit were enormous and remained ferocious even without the strong acid to suppress them.

However, the physical strength of the two warriors who had completed the first transformation had already undergone a qualitative change.

They abandoned their sharp weapons and instead used their left and right hands to firmly lock the mutated wild boar's thick limbs.

"Give it a left-right male position!" the demon shouted.

Da Niu then used the crowbar in his hand to precisely wed the joint between the iron armor and the flesh.

Using the principle of leverage, he raised his arms and, accompanied by a strange, loud cry, pried off an entire, intact, heavy piece of carapace.

The armored pig, stripped of its armor, looks like a giant, pink, bleached pig, struggling violently in the mud.

Just as the NPC militiamen above the trench were about to raise their spears to finish off the enemy, they were stopped by the whole roasted lamb.

"Hey, hey, don't go too far!"

The foreman, beaming with excitement as he roasted the whole lamb, looked at the monsters at the bottom of the pit not like they were siege beasts, but rather like they were walking mountains of gold.

He continued to immerse himself in his role, pointing to the pigs stripped of their armor at the bottom of the pit and starting to call out names.

"This is steel plate number one, and that's steel plate number two. Go to the warehouse and bring over some of the freshest cabbage leaves!"

Didn't they say they were going to eliminate the armored pigs? How come they've turned into feeding pigs now?

The militiamen looked at each other, completely unable to follow the train of thought of this outsider.

"What are you looking at? This is a strategic feeding operation!"

The roasted whole lamb was used to earnestly educate the indigenous people about the concept of sustainable development.

"As long as they get enough nutrition, their armor-like cuticle will grow back sooner or later."

"Once they're all grown, we'll come down and harvest them again. What's this called? This is called a renewable special-purpose mine!"

The roasting of the whole lamb even involved picking up a wooden board and drawing a schedule on it with a charcoal pencil.

"Da Niu, you and Wang Liang are in charge of the early shift, keeping an eye on their eating habits. Don't overfeed them, or they might not grow their nails properly, and too much fat will affect metal precipitation."

"Agent, go and dismantle those abandoned barricades at the village entrance, and build another roof over this moat so these gold mines won't catch a cold at night."

The NPC militia captain in charge of perimeter security listened intently, swallowing hard, and finally couldn't help but step forward to dissuade him:

"This is too dangerous! These are man-eating beasts. What if they regain their strength and charge out..."

"Rush out? You think this pit is just for show?"

Da Niu patted the blood-stained crowbar in his hand and nonchalantly interrupted him.

"Even if they do manage to climb up, it'll just mean another meal for the brothers. Go away, stop causing trouble. If you delay the production targets of our Archer Village's largest breeding farm, can you afford to compensate us?"

The militia captain was speechless, and could only silently step aside, staring at this group of lunatics who were befriending wild boars in the mud pit with the eyes of someone looking at idiots.

The revelry on this side of the trench continued, while on the other side of the camp, a thin figure carrying a huge sack of waste was quietly approaching.

Eyingstein, like a nobody, tried to sneak into the class hall to complete the archer job change.

Unfortunately, she was spotted by a sharp-eyed goose as soon as she appeared.

"Look, our tactical core for the Ruins City dungeon has arrived!"

The goose raised its voice and began to boast wildly to those around it, "You guys didn't see it! When the Green Slime King went berserk, her god-level prediction caused the BOSS to have an intestinal obstruction! This woman is definitely the future hope of Archer Village!"

Startled by the stares of everyone, Eying Stan buried the lower half of her face in her wide collar.

He was as stiff as a stone sculpture, unable to utter a word of rebuttal.

Ranger instructor Herina stood not far away, taking in the whole scene.

As an experienced archer, she possesses keen insight.

The girl's tense shoulders and evasive eyes showed none of the aloofness of a wise general; instead, they exuded an indescribable unease and panic.

Herina sighed softly and stepped forward to gently disperse the commotion.

"She needs rest, and I will personally handle the transfer procedures."

Herina took Eyingstein's hand and led her into the quiet instructor's private tent, then turned around and poured her a cup of warm berry tea.

The noise outside the tent was blocked out by the thick canvas.

In this private space where no one else was watching, listening to Herina's soft breathing, Einstein's tense feeling of wanting to escape at any moment finally slowly subsided.

Holding the warm ceramic cup, she let out a long sigh of relief, feeling a sense of ease that didn't require pretense for the first time on this cruel land.

Herina sat down opposite her, her gaze softening as she looked at the girl's hands, which were covered in engine oil and mud from picking up scrap.

"They told me about your amazing feat in the sewers of the ruined city."

Herina's voice carried a hint of respect, "To precisely trap the core of a giant monster with a sack full of crocodile skins, such precise control over timing and biological structure is something even the most experienced hunter in Archer Village cannot do. You are very brave."

"Cough cough cough."

Einstein almost spat out the mouthful of tea he had just drunk.

She coughed violently, waving her hands repeatedly, her face turning red from holding it in.

She desperately wanted to explain that she was simply terrified by the monster's tentacles and threw things around blindly with her eyes closed, having no idea what a core was.

But seeing Herina's confident look that said, "I know, you're just being modest," Einstein opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed the truth back.

"Actually... my companions don't usually mean to be that rough."

She tried to change the subject, weakly defending the group of people outside who were temporarily starting a farming business, saying, "They just value resource utilization; they're afraid of being poor again."

Herina smiled knowingly.

"I understand. In this land full of dangers, kind people don't live long."

They disguise themselves with greed and use the pretext of collecting resources, but in reality, they are using this method to conceal their goodwill in protecting us.

Archer Village will remember this kindness.

Eyingstein silently lowered her head and drank her tea, her mind screaming: Big sister, wake up! They're really greedy! Those wild boars at the bottom of the pit are just walking credit points to them now, they have absolutely nothing to do with protecting the indigenous people!

The two drank tea, and the atmosphere gradually eased.

A gust of cold wind slipped in through the gaps in the tent.

Herina turned to look out the window. In the distance, the village's defensive fence had been smashed to pieces by wild boars. Winter was approaching, but the windbreak wall for the winter was still nowhere to be built.

"All the able-bodied men in the village are practicing archery," Herina said helplessly. "We really can't find many craftsmen who know how to repair bricks. If this wall collapses, many children will freeze to death in the cold wind."

Hearing this, Eyingstein, who was holding a teacup, couldn't help but picture a figure who was always shirtless and covered in mud.

To be precise, she had never met that person, but his legend was everywhere in chat groups and forums.

She muttered to herself, "If only that civil engineer who ran away with the buckets were here to fix the wall. But I doubt I can get him to come here now; he's probably busy speculating on sea-view properties in Pearl Harbor."

…………

The sea breeze, carrying a faint salty smell, lapped against the rocks.

Hundreds of kilometers inland, at Pearl Harbor, there are no roars of monsters, only the enthusiastic chants of laborers.

"Running Away with Buckets" wore an old plastic safety helmet he'd picked up from somewhere, was shirtless, and held a homemade level in his hand. He directed a dozen or so local laborers to lay foundations in a row along the coastline.

The beach after the tide receded was piled high with white seashells brought from the nearby bay.

Several hired indigenous people were breaking the seashells and throwing them into a makeshift earthen kiln to be fired at high temperatures, as instructed to carry buckets and run away.

There is no modern graded cement here. Instead, they rely on consulting professional materials to extract quicklime from calcined seashell powder, and then mix it with sea sand and volcanic ash to forcibly create a three-in-one mortar that can be used in the current environment.

"Hurry up! This batch of lime is fully burned. We'll give everyone an extra dried salted fish for lunch!" He shouted as he ran off with the bucket.

Upon hearing about the extra meal, the eyes of the dozen or so emaciated laborers immediately blazed with fanaticism, and their movements as they wielded hammers and wooden shovels were almost blurry.

In remote and impoverished areas like Pearl Harbor, as long as they are given enough to eat, these locals work harder than tireless machines.

"The mortar mix is ​​wrong! There's too much water. Do you want to build a shoddy project? Mix it again!" He turned and glared at an apprentice, not tolerating any potential problems.

Old Lucas strolled over slowly, puffing on his pipe and with his hands behind his back.

He looked at the brick wall that was beginning to take shape, his old face full of puzzlement.

"Sigh, your companions have all gone to the inland tribes to seek the powerful strength to defeat the monsters, why are you still stuck in this remote port playing in the mud every day?"

He picked up the bucket and ran away, putting down the trowel in his hand. He casually wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced at the old village chief with a look of world-weariness.

"Leveling up by fighting monsters? That's something only lowly wage earners do."

He scoffed, pointing to the land beneath his feet. "Old village chief, you don't understand what non-renewable resources are. This seaside location in Pearl Harbor is unique in all of Treasure Island!"

He carried the bucket and ran to the newly built red brick wall, which was about half his height, and began to fantasize about his grand plan.

"I've calculated it. As long as we improve the sewer system and build a three-meter-high windbreak wall, this will be the safest haven on Treasure Island. I want to build a top-of-the-line seaside villa area here."

He became more and more excited as he spoke, gesturing wildly in the air with his trowel.

"Once those poor brothers in the ruined capital and archer village have earned money by fighting monsters and risking their lives every day, I will sell these houses to them at a high price!"

If they want a safe offline location, they have to obediently pay up. What's the point of grinding monsters their whole lives? In the end, they still have to pay me back the initial investment, plus interest.

Upon hearing these words, old Lucas felt a chill run down his spine, and he nearly dropped the pipe he was holding onto the beach.