As it turns out, Factory Manager Glenn Jin was right. The young men who received their wages spent a week's pay in just three days, and then reluctantly returned to the factory.
Lasov initially complained about the "animal nature" of the locals, but he soon accepted this setup and was quite satisfied to accept all the bad habits of the locals.
Because, although his new gas cylinder production line hadn't started yet, the bicycles wholesaled from Jinga Lun Port sold out!
When the locals saw this "two-foot pedal, as fast as the wind" means of transportation, their eyes widened like copper bells.
And upon hearing that buying this thing didn't require the title of a Centurion or any certification, just 100 Silver Coins, these local lads immediately reached into their pockets—
Only to find no coins.
No money... then they'd have to figure out a way to get some.
To live the life of racing down the country dirt roads on a 28-inch frame, and for the priority of mate selection in the tribe, these spirited young men from the Wasteland, the most primitive yet avant-garde, eagerly signed up, unwillingly diving into the tide of labor transformation.
Initially, they wanted to work two jobs, owing wages to two factories, but the shrewd Merchant from the Moon Clan foresaw their intention to exploit the loophole and had already taken preemptive measures to seal it.
To protect the factory they had invested heavily in, they proactively established the first private organization in the Lavanka Industrial Zone — the Industrial and Commercial Alliance.
This Alliance differs from the two in Poluo Province, focusing on just one task.
That is to register the biometric information of their employees and share this information among themselves, essentially an early version of a "credit system".
This technology isn't very difficult.
Although there is no internet in the Wasteland, it is not without Computers and Cameras.
The Alliance can't implement it simply because doing so would be met with repercussions, and the Lavanka Industrial Zone's Autonomous Committee hasn't legislated labor rights yet, so there aren't as many obstacles.
This time, the local people of the Lavanka Industrial Zone were caught off guard.
When they received their wages from the first company and tried to go to the second, they were directly shooed away, and the same happened at the third and fourth companies.
The factory owners had united.
Now, they could only work…
Watching the money-counting machine whirr endlessly, his face was beaming with a bright smile. In high spirits, he handed each of the assembly masters a 1000 Silver Coin red envelope, and finally slipped a stack of notes into Factory Manager Glenn Jin's hands.
"Haha, brother, your idea is simply genius! Just a token of appreciation, please don't be polite!"
"You're the genius," said Factory Manager Glenn Jin, who had little concept of silver coins and didn't bother counting how many bills there were, stuffing them into his pocket casually. He then remarked with a face full of emotion, "Less than two weeks' time… The troops from Evernight Harbor would take that long to get to West Sail Port. Your container is even faster than them."
Lasov was indifferent to Glenn Jin's shock, as the speed of those containers was just a testament to the shipping company's skills.
If he was willing to spend money, they could be even faster.
For instance, by air transport.
Yet, using planes for such low-value-added commodities isn't worthwhile.
"There's nothing strange about it. For us, time is money. You'll understand after working with me for a while." Lasov winked at him with a pleased smile and said, "Don't worry, I never shortchange my brothers. When I make money, you'll undoubtedly benefit too."
Glenn Jin felt somewhat exhilarated by his words.
Though unfamiliar with silver coins, the bills in his pocket felt heavy.
He suddenly had the urge to take them out and count but felt it was inappropriate to do so on the spot.
That wad must be at least 5000 silver coins…
He heard that in the Alliance, you can buy an LD-series assault rifle for just 200 coins.
"So, are we still going to produce gas canisters? I feel bicycles are more profitable."
"Of course we will. Don't let short-term gains cloud your judgment. This deal is just quick money." Laughing, Lasov patted Factory Manager Glenn Jin's shoulder and continued, "But you did remind me, we should develop some production lines to meet local needs. What's that saying? Yes, adapt to local conditions!"
Glenn Jin asked, "Like what?"
Lasov replied with a smile.
"Like pots and pans, tricycles for transporting goods, or furniture and such."
Glenn Jin furrowed his brow slightly.
"Furniture made of iron? Even though the iron ore here is cheap, wouldn't it be too heavy?"
Lasov shook his head vigorously.
"It's wood, of course. Iron produces no added value. Selling a 1 silver coin item for 1.1 silver coins isn't skillful. Convincing someone to pay 10 silver coins and be grateful—that's talent. We'll sell not only wooden sofas but also ones with genuine leather and pure cotton."
Watching the enthusiastic boss, Glenn Jin chuckled and said.
"I need to remind you, even though there's some trees along the Lavanka River, this place is still called the Great Desert."
Lasov replied with a smile.
"Of course, I know. But there's plenty of wood at Potato Harbor and a lumber mill at Mantou Harbor… I remember factories there were set up by you Weilante people."
The wasteland is becoming a cohesive entity, and to remain bound by the Great Desert's limitations is to have too small a vision.
He could hire noble artists from the City of Dawn, import the best wood, leather, and cotton from Baiyue Province, and send them to Jinjaron Harbor factories for rough processing.
Watching Lasov energetically describe his business blueprint, Glenn Jin suddenly found him somewhat unfamiliar and couldn't believe this guy was Poluo.
He had encountered Poluo people.
The submissive demeanor caused him to internally disdain them, never considering them worth his notice.
Now he finally understood why the Alliance won.
Unity is a means.
Equality is their core.
The Army turned Waste Land Wanderers into beasts.
While the Alliance turned them into humans.
Animals are destined not to defeat humans. The Southern Legion, even the entire Army's failure, was almost inevitable...
...
Small commodities from Jinjaron Harbor sparked a wave of fashion trends in the Lavanka Industrial Zone.
The dusty dirt road was dotted with the silhouette of "Audebiao," though missing the soulful touch of bananas.
This isn't a tropical place; strictly speaking, it's temperate. The heat is merely due to being in the Southern Hemisphere, and December is the hottest summer month in the Southern Hemisphere.
And thus, not only bicycles from Jinjaron Harbor sold well, but also short sleeve T-shirts and sandals.
Especially the latter.
Styles already outdated in Jinjaron Harbor became hot-selling items locally!
The indigenous people, savage like beasts, would even fiercely contest over a garishly colored shirt.
As for artworks like "Vine Cottage" certified by the residents of the refuge, those were left untouched; everyone shunned that understated luxury vibe.
Instead, some exaggerated designs created by players had a huge market here.
For example, a red T-shirt printed with a doll's face—the cheerful smile practically became a spiritual totem for several tribes.
Seeing those lively youngsters sporting bean shoes and wearing Wangzai milk bottles, Elena had a nuanced expression.
Earlier, when "beta test qualifications" were liberally distributed, such performance art briefly appeared in the City of Dawn, yet she hadn't expected it to re-emerge among the Waste Land Wanderers after the beta test qualifications tightened.
"Is this the Renaissance of art?"
Gnome King Riches rubbed his temples, easing his mental fatigue.
"Ah... I suppose so."
There are more and more unfamiliar faces on the server; it's no longer just a small circle of veteran players. Although "Wasteland OL" hasn't officially launched its public beta, it's not much different from one.
Mosquito is still flying planes on the front line, the tail is building snowmen in the Arctic Circle, and some of the most famous comedians aren't around.
At least he couldn't figure out who orchestrated it, and it might not even have been done by the players.
While many players were amazed, the 172 naive investors who bought the factories finally found a knack for developing this market. They all wrote to the Autonomous Committee, urging them to install the gantry crane at the port for easier unloading, and then start dumping imported light industrial goods from Jinga Lun Harbor.
This certainly stimulated the market in the Lavanka Industrial Zone to some extent, but the market and factories were still separated by a river.
The young men in debt were indeed pressed back into the factories by the bosses brought in from all over the world by the Alliance, but they clearly weren't genuinely interested in building their hometowns, just in making quick money to buy a flashy bicycle.
Thinking this way isn't actually wrong, and disliking saving money isn't wrong either; people should prioritize living for themselves and living for the now... but they shouldn't have no plans for the future.
Especially when everyone in a society lacks any plan for their future, whether good or bad, that society is almost inevitably stagnant, or even declines.
In such cases, any measures aimed at stimulating a civil society will fail.
The locals live like animals, finding food when hungry, finding water when thirsty, mating when the urge arises, working day-to-day jobs, and never mastering a core skill. It's even a luxury to expect them to become skilled workers.
Although in the short term, agile merchants from Jinga Lun Harbor led by Lasov made a fortune, most of it came from Lavanka Industrial Zone auctioning off Southern Legion assets and cashing in on dividends.
The local workers were able to borrow money because of this dividend guarantee.
Otherwise, no one would advance them wages, just like no one would lend money to the seagulls of Potato Harbor.
Once this dividend is exhausted, everyone here will suffer.
Fang Chang believes experienced merchants like Lasov from Jinga Lun Harbor can escape before the flood, but as the captain of a ship, who holds the last life ring is of no significance to him.
The life rings are certainly not enough for everyone.
What he needs to do is steer the ship well, avoid it running aground, and ensure every passenger on board successfully reaches the shore.
At the meeting of the Lavanka Industrial Zone Autonomous Committee, Fang Chang, sitting at the head of the table, looked at the committee members sitting around and said.
"...The Waste Land Wanderer from the River Valley Province also doesn't like saving money, adhering to the philosophy of life's transience, but even so, they have an idea of what they want to do tomorrow."
"So when we hand them books and tell them tomorrow will be better, it takes almost no effort to get them to study earnestly. And when we present them with a better plan, they strive alongside us."
Little Fish and Boss Xia are typical examples, including more accomplished people like List and Sun Shiqi, and other survivors.
Today, the newcomers in "Wasteland OL" have almost no impression of Little Fish, but Fang Chang remembers vividly.
That guy has grown from a little girl counting coins at the rehabilitation center door into one of the designers of the Alliance's financial system, even fooling him, an expert.
And Boss Xia has also become an outstanding engineer.
Although she's not wealthy, money isn't the only measure of life's meaning; her research and contributions are evident to many players in the Alliance.
As for here...
After a moment of silence, Fang Chang looked at the ceiling of the conference room, sighed, and shook his head.
"The above is the experience of the City of Dawn, the origins of the Giant Stone City model and the Jinga Lun Harbor model... but based on recent observations, I'm sorry to say this underlying code is not applicable here."
The locals have no concept of the future at all.
Their extreme idleness and complacency are the roots of the massive gap between Lavanka Industrial Zone's actual capacity and theoretical output.
The reasons are not that complicated, and it has nothing to do with Teil or the Enlightenment Society.
And he indeed wrongly blamed them.
They are not without "resistance," but are constantly resisting, and resisting everyone they encounter...
If the same industrial zone were placed in the Lion State of Poluo Province, making the Poluo people tighten their belts to build guns and cannons for the Southern Legion, Absek and Laxi might really have been defeated by the Southern Legion.
The people sitting around the conference table looked at each other, eventually focusing their gaze on President Anton.
Pushed to the front by everyone's expectations, President Anton smiled wryly and cast an imploring look at Fang Chang.
"Please think of something."
Fang Chang shook his head.
"You can't place all your hopes on me alone; otherwise, what will you do after I'm gone? The reason I called this meeting is that I hope to hear your views."
President Anton closed his mouth and turned his gaze to the president of the Development Foundation.
That guy's name was Hope, a professional accountant, born in Yavente City and a Weilante. The Alliance found him from some factory, anyway, now he manages the "purse" of the entire Autonomous Committee and is holding a massive fund of 1.5 billion silver coins!
With such a huge amount of money in his hands, he wondered what capability this guy had.
Unable to avoid it under President Anton's hard stare, Hope knew he couldn't dodge, so he cleared his throat and said.
"Perhaps we could make some people wealthy first, then the others—"
Before he could finish, the captain of the Industrial Zone's security team broke in with a stern face.
"They'll be robbed clean by other locals, just like in Blackwater Alley at Evernight Harbor. In just the past half month, we've already processed 37 robbery cases and 26 theft cases, half of which involved bicycles."
He was one of the few local Lavanka natives at the conference table but grew up in Yavente City, so he was one of the few well-traveled locals.
His mother was a servant to a Ten Thousand Leader, and because he had half Weilante blood in his veins, he managed to become a former leader in the Servant Army.
Later, following General Rubis's defeat, his good attitude while surrendering led the Alliance to assign him to the guards. Due to his outstanding performance and a recommendation from a certain expeditionary army camp leader, he swiftly rose to his current position of sheriff.
It was precisely because his veins ran with the blood of the local people that he understood them better than anyone else.
Before Hope could answer, he continued speaking.
"...In the end, this place will still become Evernight Harbor, with outsiders continuing to live in the most prosperous communities, while locals still rot in the stinking gutters... I don't think this is what the Alliance hopes to see."
As he spoke, he looked at Fang Chang, who, though not openly expressed, returned a knowing look of approval.
Indeed, the Alliance did not want to see such things happen.
However, expecting the Alliance to intervene forcibly simply because it doesn't want to see such things happen is also to misunderstand the Alliance completely.
Peaceful coexistence is the aspiration.
They will not design a competition where only winning is allowed, just to seize the victor's trophy and forcibly give it to the weak who need help, simply out of this aspiration.
The fairness of rules at least ensures that victory has meaning, whereas forcing rules not only fails to help the weak but also turns the victory itself into a joke, ultimately leading to a lose-lose situation.
He couldn't say this, but he indeed thought—
If the locals are truly hopeless, then they should lie in the muck and watch their Weilante neighbors return to their large houses through their hard work and courage, and then consider whether to change themselves or the next generation.
Perhaps seeing his meaningful gaze, Hope gained a bit of confidence, looking at the captain of the guards, arguing fervently.
"Then at least it has to first become Evernight Harbor, right? At least the aliens in Blackwater Alley and those in the Lavanka Industrial Zone are different, and the poor in the slums are slightly more dignified than animals in the primitive forest. Can you deny this? Moreover, you yourself are from Yavente City, right? You know better than anyone why locals are poor, why despite your veins flowing with alien blood, you are different!"
The captain of the guards was momentarily speechless; he wasn't good at debate and lacked the unreasonable stubbornness and unreasonable manner of Bosaka after coming into contact with civilized thoughts.
He glared, unable to say a word, forcibly swallowing his words down.
Not just him, even the elders of several large tribes sitting in the corner of the meeting table couldn't refute either.
They indeed knew what kind of character their young men had, and they were also aware of their own nature.
Frankly speaking, they never considered that one day they could sit at the same table as the Weilante people, discussing the future of the Lavanka Industrial Zone on equal grounds.
If their people cannot compete with the Weilante, then indeed no one is to blame...
Fang Chang looked at Hope.
"You want to use the 'Goldgallon Harbor Model,' don't you?"
"It's the Evernight Harbor Model!" Hope courageously continued, "Evernight Harbor lacks money, lacks technology, lacks a market... but we have all of these now and are standing at the forefront!"
"Selling 172 factories has already raised 1.5 billion silver coins. This money shouldn't just be used for transformation; we can also take a portion to invest in infrastructure… For example, establishing a local development bank, bidding through the qualification committee for old district renovations, refurbishing old civilian docks, roads, and municipal systems."
As he said this, he looked at the four tribal elders sitting at the meeting table.
"You may not understand, but in simple terms, we will take some money from the development fund to help renovate your houses! Move you from tents to large houses with ocean views!"
Hearing this, the four elders immediately became excited, almost treating him as a savior.
Fang Chang roughly listened to his statement.
This is actually still the Goldgallon Harbor model, but there are indeed slight differences.
Back then, Goldgallon Harbor had just escaped the "Nihark period," ignorant of market operation rules, with both old aristocrats and the emerging class standing on the same starting line, and the latter more motivated to change; therefore, they quickly became the forerunners of avant-garde thought during social transformation.
But Lavanka Industrial Zone is different.
Regardless of ability or experience, Weilante people have a upper hand on locals, and now raising this starter's pistol is equivalent to having adults and children racing.
But as Hope said, now they are standing at the forefront, and there is still a chance to do this.
After the opportunity passes, it's hard to say what role this 1.5 billion silver coins can play.
Perhaps they won't even have a chance to speak, in which case these benefits would either be consumed by themselves or devoured by outsiders.
"There is no option that is all beneficial and with no harm, I cannot decide for you. My only advice is to abandon the fantasy of having it both ways... let's have a vote."
Fang Chang tapped the table, handing the choice to the locals themselves.
"Left hand for approval, right hand for objection, hands on the table is abstaining."
He said this, placing his hand under the table, indicating that he—or rather, the Alliance, would not participate in this vote.
At this roundtable, there were 14 people sitting, including 6 Weilante people, 6 Indigenous People, and one mixed-blood.
At least now the vote is the fairest.
Hands rose one after another, with ten in favor, two against, and one abstention.
Interestingly, the two opposing votes came from a mixed-blood and a Weilante person.
Antoine cast an abstention vote without suspense; he is a typical "capable opportunist."
As for the four tribal elders gathered around the meeting table, they all raised their left hands high.
After all, they had already chosen their leader in their hearts.
"This is the first meeting of the Lavanka Industrial Zone, witnessed by the representative of the Alliance for its fairness... at least the process is relatively fair."
Fang Chang looked at the spirited Hope, using his eyes to award him the badge of a winner.
"Do not disappoint the survivors of the Lavanka Industrial Zone, live up to the expectations of yours, and carry out your envisioned future."