Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

For Mrs. Hank and the other ladies, their daily work was far from easy.ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ Novᴇ(l)Fɪre .ɴᴇt

They had to report to the town hall before 9 a.m. every morning to prepare food for the captives at the militia headquarters as well as the several hundred young men and women still recuperating at the resettlement zone.

Food for the captives was relatively simple to prepare: boiled potatoes or a mixed noodle soup. The standard meals for model prisoners were provided by the undead delicatessen.

Requirements for the resettlement zones were more complicated, as some of the young men and women needed specially prepared meals due to unique circumstances. Some had lost their teeth and could only eat liquid food, while others suffered from severe STDs and needed special diets.

Next, the ladies had to prepare free lunches for the temporary workers on the main street. These people engaged in heavy labor and couldn't be sustained with just big pot-cooked food. Per Miss Mia's request, each day's menu had to include an added dish with salt and oil.

After preparing lunch, they had a two- to three-hour window for learning before they had to head out to the Martin Street market to procure vegetables and other ingredients for dinner and the next day.

As for learning cooking skills from a moving picture projected while equipped with a lapel badge… It proved quite challenging for the ladies initially. It was one thing getting used to it, not to mention that the words used by the gentleman in the video were often beyond their comprehension.

But these ladies had their own wisdom and resourcefulness. No one wanted to lose this job that paid 10 silver coins a month for preparing food for the townspeople—a salary more generous than what the temporary workers doing heavy labor on the construction sites earned. Regardless of whether they understood the instructor's words or not, all the women diligently learned and mimicked the gentleman's way of handling ingredients.

With two hours of playbacks in the meeting room, the ladies focused intently on memorizing every detail.

When Miss Mia announced the end of the class and instructed everyone to return their badges to Mrs. Hank before heading to the Martin Street market, the ladies still mimicked the chopping and slicing motions of onions and potatoes even as they returned their badges…

By the time Mrs. Hank finished her day's work, the sun was already setting.

The alley on the north side of Martin Street, now known as Soldier's Lane, housed not only the 43 families of the former Indahl City Defense Force soldiers but also three local families. Two of these families preferred to keep to themselves, but the widow Mrs. Taylor was very welcoming to the new neighbors.

As Mrs. Hank and a few other housewives entered Soldier's Lane, Mrs. Taylor, living at the entrance of the alley, waved vigorously from her kitchen window. "Why are you all coming home empty-handed? Hurry over to the tofu shop at 106 Main Street, there's a big sale!"

Upon hearing this, the fatigue of a long day's work vanished from the housewives. They thanked Mrs. Taylor and hurried off.

The tofu shop at 106 Main Street, not far from the undead delicatessen at 101, was currently the most popular shop in Weisshem. The various types of tofu available for just a few copper coins were cheap and plentiful. Adding vegetables and potato chunks, with a sprinkle of salt, could produce a stew that could satisfy an entire family.

By the time Mrs. Hank returned home cheerfully carrying the discounted tofu, the sky was nearly dark.

The house allocated to the Hank family in Weisshem was indeed much worse than their residence in Indahl. Not only did every room leak, but the living room's earthen wall had collapsed, leaving a hole larger than a dining table, which they had to cover with wooden boards.

The diligent housewife quickly prepared the meal and called her children to have dinner. Mrs. Hank glanced at the rising moon outside the window and urged her two children who needed to attend night school, "Eat up quickly, Paul, Joan. Don't be late."

Mrs. Hank, who had a comfortable upbringing in her youth and attended a girls' middle school, didn't need to go to night school. Her eldest son, Sam, who had basic literacy education during his service in the City Defense Force, also didn't need to attend.

Joan Hank, 15, the youngest of the Hank family, quickly bowed her head and sped up her eating.

Nineteen-year-old Paul Hank, the second child, seemed reluctant, idly tapping his fork against his plate.

"Paul," Sam couldn't stand it and chided his brother.

Paul glanced at his brother, then looked toward his mother stiffly. "I think I don't need to go, Mom."

"Paul?" Mrs. Hank looked at her second son in surprise. "Don't be foolish. The basic courses at Indahl's private schools cost at least 80 copper a week, and here it's free. You won't find such an opportunity anywhere else."

Paul shook his head. "I know, Mom. But I don't want to stay here. I want to go to Neuen Town to find Uncle."

"Y-you, what nonsense are you talking about! How can you go to your uncle?" Mrs. Hank was alarmed.

"As long as I don't say anything, people in Neuen Town won't know our family was exiled, so it won't affect Uncle," Paul insisted.

"Paul!" Mrs. Hank raised her voice, clearly irritated. "Shut your mouth! Don't talk about going to your uncle!"

"Why can't I mention it?" Paul retorted, not convinced.

Sam put down his spoon and frowned at his brother.

Mrs. Hank had not been on good terms with her brother, and as the eldest son, Sam was aware of it.

Although they had never spoken to Paul and Joan about these matters, Mrs. Hank hadn't contacted her brother for over a decade. Paul was already an adult and should have been able to recognize such an evident situation.

Sam thought about it for a moment and decided not to argue about whether Paul really wanted to seek out their uncle. Instead, he asked, "Paul, are you resenting the hard work at the construction site because you earn less than Mom, or do you feel there's no future in Weisshem and can't make something of yourself?

"Or are you just simply afraid of those undead, even though they've never harmed you?"

Paul, who had been stubbornly arguing with his mother, suddenly turned red in the face.

"Oh, you're afraid of them." Sam realized. "In that case, I'll support your decision to leave. I don't think the undead would want to protect someone who irrationally fears and despises them."

"I… I have never been protected by those disgusting skeletons!" Paul shouted in a fit.

"The former mayor of Weisshem was taken away by the undead, as well as those disreputable businessmen on the main street," Sam said calmly. "The undead changed Weisshem, which is why you could earn a daily salary and save enough in less than a week to have the confidence to leave; not to mention the dinner you're eating was earned by Mom through a job provided by the undead."

Paul, furious, raised his hand, intending to sweep his plate off the table.

Sam grabbed his wrist, stopping him from wasting food, and shouted sternly at his foolish brother, "I really don't understand how our family raised someone as foolish as you! Do you hate me for getting you exiled? Do you hate me for causing you to never be able to return to Indahl? What has Indahl ever given you? In your nineteen years, have you ever found work that was truly your own?!

"To get a factory job, you must ask for favors; to work in a decent workshop, you need to pay money; otherwise, you're stuck as an apprentice with very low wages! If someone of higher status accidentally kills someone like you, they don't even have to go to the police; just paying a few gold would be enough! No matter how capable you are, no one cares about your life or death except your family. That's the real Indahl!

"The people in the town hall treats you kindly and considerately, even considering your future and offering you free night school to gain literacy. Do you think such opportunities are everywhere?!"

Sam got angrier the more he said, and he finally pushed Paul to the ground. "Then go! Go somewhere else and live your own good life!"

"Paul!" Mrs. Hank nervously went around the dining table, torn between helping her second son up and not wanting to interfere in the brothers' dispute, worried they might think she was taking sides.

"Uh… Sorry, have I come at a bad time?"

Miss Mia was standing awkwardly at the door of the Hank house, unsure whether to enter or leave.

Mrs. Hank gasped and quickly adjusted her scarf, her face flushing with embarrassment as she went over. "I'm so sorry, Miss Mia. Our family's situation… I don't know how to explain."

"Please don't apologize to me; I should be the one doing so instead." Miss Mia gestured to ease the tension and quickly explained her purpose, "It's like this… A few undead gentlemen who know how to uh… survey and build railways have arrived in Weisshem. They wish to start work immediately tonight, and Mayor Ji Tang needs to recruit some staff to assist them right away. I came to ask if Sam Hank would be willing to participate in this field mission."

"I am more than willing, Miss Mia." Sam quickly left his brother and strode over. "Should I head to the town hall right now?"

"Yes," Mia replied with a pleased smile. "Please go and report immediately. Mayor Ji Tang and Mr. Pitt are both there. I'll go and notify the others."

"Let me accompany you," Sam, ever the people-pleaser, quickly grabbed his coat from the rack behind the door and earnestly offered. "I know my brothers well and might be able to help you."

"That would be great." Mia smiled and nodded.

Before leaving, Sam didn't forget to call out to his mother, "Mom, please prepare some spare clothes for me."

"Yes, of course." Mrs. Hank nodded eagerly and excitedly, thrilled that her eldest son might become a town hall staff member. She even forgot to thank Miss Mia for the good news and disregarded her recently upset second son, rushing into Sam's room to pack his luggage.

Joan Hank finished her meal, scooping the last piece of vegetable into her mouth.

"Why are you afraid of those undead, Second Bro?" the 15-year-old girl asked curiously while chewing her greens.

Paul, still on the floor, remained sulking in silence.

While the Hank brothers had their disagreement, in Indahl, two carriages bearing the Church of Lady Golden Coin insignia sped along Saint Joseph Street, heading straight for the northern city gate. The Church's carriages were allowed to leave the city after dark without any reason, and the gate guards, recognizing the insignia from a distance, opened the gates without hesitation.

Within half an hour, the carriages arrived at Redwall Farm and stopped in front of a large iron gate with its lock smashed.

Several elite night watchmen disembarked. The leader took out a sealed artifact shaped like a dressing mirror and shone it into the courtyard.

"Did that new exorcist really solve the problem here overnight? How did he manage that?" The night watchman captain found it hard to believe what he saw in the mirror, even after several attempts.

"This is truly remarkable… Captain, it seems Indahl has quite a character," one of the night watchmen said as he lifted the brim of his black hood and stared into the dark courtyard.

The night watchmen captain nodded slowly, then shook his head. "The origins of this person have to be investigated. Go in and find that wooden carving."

The officials responsible for liaising with the civilian exorcists hadn't provided complete information to them. Key information, such as Wilhem J. Bancroft being a renowned wooden carving collector who had hosted several wooden carving art exhibitions, was "inadvertently" omitted.

With their more comprehensive intelligence, the Church of Lady Golden Coin had already deduced that the Redwall Farm catastrophe was related to and brought into Indahl territory by Young Master Wilhem. Combining his identity as a wooden carving collector, the form of the sealed artifact that caused the catastrophe was almost evident.

As for whether withholding information might possibly lead to an exorcist's failure… Before a sealed artifact was successfully contained, no night watchman from any church would be selfless enough to risk their life until the "last drop of exorcist blood was exhausted."

Hours later, an angry roar echoed from the abandoned mansion at Redwall Farm. "It's not here?? Why isn't it here?!"