Chapter 57: Misjudging The Circumstances
Weapons Master Charlie Rex sat alone on top of a cement bag at the Warrior Guild construction site, lost in thought.
The Warrior Guild's hall (which was essentially an unfinished rectangular room of around 80 square meters) had its walls completed, and the plaster on the walls had dried. However, the roof was yet to be sealed with asphalt shingles, and the floor hadn't been done yet.
Although a small hut had been built for him, Charlie didn't hurry to move in because Yang hadn't come to set up the new magic traps and soundproofing arrays yet. Without traps and soundproofing, living there would be unbearable, even if the undead were no longer as disrespectful and offensive to him as they had been at the start.
Construction on two other small houses hadn't even started yet, and the site was still full of building materials. However, the wheelbarrow used to transport water and mud had dried up from not being used for several days.
The Warrior Guild construction site was usually the most peaceful place, with only a few undead coming to receive quests from Rex each day. But these few days, even those regular undead didn't show up.
Rex was used to solitude, but for some reason, the desolate site made him feel uneasy…
Suddenly, Rex's face stiffened, and he stood up abruptly.
He absolutely would never admit he had gotten used to the noisy undead chatter, nor did he miss those few undead ladies with melodious voices who were extremely disrespectful to him!
He especially didn't miss that undead fella that knew how to cook and silently looked after him, just like the pious monk he had seen when he was a child.
Absolutely not!
Charlie left the work site silently and returned to his tent, hastily sorting through the trash that needed to be burned and buried as if he were trying to rid himself of those embarrassing sentiments he had.
Most of the food and drinks provided by Yang came wrapped in paper or plastic. According to Yang, these papers and plastic needed to be collected accordingly and sent to the garbage incinerator behind the town for centralized incineration and burial.
Once he was done sorting through the food packaging from the past few days, Rex decided to "take a break" from his work and head to the garbage incinerator.
This garbage incinerator was actually converted from a kiln. The people that had once come to this valley to build a small town had left behind a small kiln.
Of course, over the years, the kiln had since become unusable, and using it to burn garbage was just a form of waste recycling.
Having reached the incinerator, Rex was about to throw his used packing in when he realized something was off.
He squatted down and reached into the kiln.
There were paper boxes and plastic wrappings inside the kiln that had been thrown by others. However, the amount of rubbish… seemed slightly lesser than usual.
Rex did a mental calculation of when the kiln had been last used, and his eyes narrowed.
This warrior, who had risen to a weapons master at a young age, stood up, wiped the dirt off his hands, and headed for the Town Hall.
Inside the Town Hall, "Yang" was sipping on tea as usual.
However, through the window, Rex could tell that it wasn't Yang but an illusion that Yang had left behind.
Although there was no apparent difference to the naked eye, Rex, a professional that knew Yang himself, could sense the difference in the aura of this illusion compared to the actual Yang.
Rex believed that among the former bandits, Tuttle Joe would probably be able to tell the difference as well.
But Rex wasn't focusing on Yang's illusion. His gaze lingered on the several large cabinets behind the illusion for a bit before he went around the Town Hall, paying particular attention to the ground near the windowsills and the damage to the surrounding bushes and branches on the ground.
Through detailed and targeted observation, Rex was able to ascertain his conjecture and couldn't help shaking his head. "These guys… It's really no wonder they were once a bandit gang. They are just too audacious."
Given that only 20 to 30 undead could be seen in town per day and Yang himself wasn't present, leaving an illusion in place, it wasn't difficult to understand why these former bandits would be so brazen.
Rex's personality didn't mesh with these former bandits. Even though they would often cross paths in town, they spoke to each other less than with the undead.
The former bandits didn't appreciate Rex's aloofness and disdained that his mind had been corrupted; Rex, on the other hand, looked down on the former bandits for their depravity and lawlessness.
Rex was somewhat conflicted. He really didn't want to get involved in the affairs of these people, but if he turned a blind eye and let them die, it would seem to contradict his long-standing beliefs.
"…Oh, well." Rex sighed. "Losing manpower while the town is still being constructed… wouldn't be good either."
Rex was rather interested in Yang's ideal of developing Taranthan into a territory.
Like Tuttle Joe, Rex also came from the Rhine Kingdom, though his family was higher in status than Tuttle's—Rex's father was a viscount with territory, vassals, as well as many manors and ranches.
In theory, a viscount's son should never have fallen to the point of being mentally corrupted and forced to await death in the Sorensen Mountains. Unfortunately, Rex wasn't a legitimate child; he was born to his father and a mistress.
This was a rather common occurrence. Those with riches and nobility could naturally attract beautiful women seeking to exchange their bodies and wombs for a more decent life.
However, while noblemen having multiple mistresses were common, only a few of these mistresses could gain long-term affection, and even fewer of their offsprings were recognized by the family.
Obviously, Rex hadn't been one of those fortunate bastards favored by the viscount and received preferential treatment. Still, due to half his bloodline, he enjoyed a carefree childhood and was able to attend private school as a young boy.
By the time Rex was 14, his aging mother could no longer attract the viscount's interest, so she and her son were sent to the countryside with a paltry sum of money.
Expecting to bind a nobleman with a so-called father-son affection was one of the most unrealistic fantasies in the world. Noblemen having many mistresses were commonplace, and there would be even more illegitimate children. To Rex's father, abandoning Rex and his mother was no different from discarding a pet.
In any case, Rex's desire to develop Taranthan might be even stronger than even Yang himself—he wanted success and fame, and to make his viscount father regret abandoning such an outstanding son like him.
Without such a strong desire, it would have been impossible to force Rex, who had originally been on the verge of complete mental collapse, to willingly "serve" the undead.
Having affirmed his intention, Rex came to the Wanderer Guild construction site for the first time.
The Wanderer Guild was a popular spot for players to advance classes, and its construction status was a stark contrast to that of the Warrior Guild. The square was more spacious, and the guild hall was significantly larger, along with rows of completed small houses, which were just the beginning of what was to come.
On site, only a few scattered undead were busy with tasks. Among the three responsible for this area, only Tuttle was present at his post, while Hal and Finley were nowhere to be seen.
Rex observed Tuttle from a distance and felt that facing off with Tuttle wouldn't be much different from confronting Hal. Thus, the young warrior decided to approach.
Tuttle was clearly surprised when Rex, who had never interacted with him before, proactively approached. He got up and asked, "Charlie Rex, something on your mind?"
Charlie stopped a few meters away. He didn't beat around the bush and said, "I don't know what you guys are planning, but since we know each other, I feel obligated to give you a piece of advice. You guys best give up, Joe."
Tuttle couldn't help raising an eyebrow when he heard what Charlie first say, but after listening to the latter's pretentious warning, he couldn't help but laugh." Haha, I'm sorry… Am I mistaken? Are you trying to educate someone?"
Rex shook his head. "No, it's just a reminder."
Tuttle scoffed, displeasure apparent on his face as he strode over to Rex and lifted the latter's chin. "Who do you think you are? A soldier?"
Military in this world wasn't held in high regard by most. Even on Earth, the perception of the military among the Chinese people differed fundamentally from that of other countries' people. In short, "soldier" wasn't a term of respect; it was a derogatory word, similar in meaning to "grunt" in ancient China.
Charlie wasn't going to be provoked by such childish taunts and responded with a deadpan expression, "I heard you guys had a hard time dealing with the undead last time."
Tuttle's expression turned cold. "You looking for trouble, Little Charlie?!"
"Calm down, I'm not that bored to come seeking trouble intentionally." Rex raised his hand to stop Tuttle and went on, "Let me repeat myself. I just wanted to kindly remind you guys to not do anything foolish.
"I understand that you guys feel ashamed having to yield to Yang and be forced to coexist with these undead. You may not agree with Yang's ideals and think he's either insane or deceiving you. All these I can understand." Rex quickened his pace to say what he wanted before the other party lost control of his emotions.
"But I still want to remind you not to forget Yang's attitude toward you, me, and all of us."
Tuttle Joe was also the brains of the Sacred Crow after all, and despite feeling pissed at being offended, he still retained basic judgment. Restraining his anger, he asked, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"What I'm saying is that Yang is a high-level mage." Rex heaved a sigh of relief, now knowing that Tuttle was at least capable of having a normal conversation. "Even if he doesn't care about us, he will still maintain the decorum and courtesy expected of a high-level mage. He doesn't make us too uncomfortable, which might lead us to misjudge the circumstances."
Tuttle tilted his head.
"With all the decorum and courtesy, the fact remains that Yang doesn't care about any of us." Rex paused for a moment before continuing solemnly, "He doesn't need our support, admiration, trust, or awe. He merely demands that we do simple tasks, something any well-trained male servant can do, and he provides compensation in return. I believe you understand what that means, Joe."
Tuttle's face twisted, and his mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something. But no words came out.
He understood.
He, too, came from a well-off family and had been exposed to such social interactions from a young age.
Upon careful consideration, it was true that Black Mage Yang had never made any higher demands on them. Even when their attempted rebellion was discovered, Yang showed no intention of punishing them. He merely presented a bill they could never afford and had them give verbal promises before letting them off lightly.
And… he had even explicitly stated that he didn't care about their betrayal.
In any case, the reason was simple: their loyalty or betrayal held no value to Yang!
Seeing Tuttle's face turn pale and the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, Rex knew that his warning had been understood.
He felt somewhat disdainful toward Tuttle's belated realization…
However, despite his sentiments, they were still "colleagues," and Rex could only patiently continue to advise, "I believe you're aware that the undead don't avoid us when they chat. The reason Yang and the undead left Exile Town is to receive the civilians he acquired from the Duchy of Shiga.
"The things Yang tasks us to do can be done by any ordinary folk with some education. We people… aren't special or irreplaceable." This statement stung Rex himself quite a bit. It reminded him of the past, and he couldn't help but sigh.
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