Chapter 579
The Demon King's Pawns Are Still Exerting Their Strength
Chapter 579 The Demon King's Pawns Are Still Exerting Their Strength
In November, Roland City welcomed its first snowfall of the winter.
Fine snowflakes fell softly onto the roof of the black carriage.
The sound should have been gentle and beautiful, but at this moment it sounded like something was quietly rotting away.
Thanos peered through the crack in the car window at the gray sky, the collar of his wool coat turned up, burying his pale face in shadow.
"It looks like this winter is going to be very cold." As he watched the city gate getting closer, he raised one index finger and gently lowered the brim of his top hat.
The Demon King's worries were ultimately unfounded; the Shadow Demon General was destined to be the least likely piece to cause problems on his chessboard.
This guy is not only cunning, but also incredibly treacherous.
The carriage stopped in front of the city gate.
The wooden fence of the sentry post was half open, and several soldiers stood lazily in the middle of the road, their cotton-padded coats for keeping warm covered with coal dust and stains.
Seeing the carriage approaching, they perked up like fishermen who had finally caught their prey. One of them walked straight to the carriage window, pounded on the door with his fist, and shouted angrily.
"Get down."
The driver, Navi, jumped down from the front seat, bowing and smiling obsequiously. His face was so thin that his cheekbones protruded, and his skin had a sickly sallow hue.
"Sir, this is a merchant from the south—"
"Shut up, I hate people from the South the most," the soldier said without even glancing at him, his eyes fixed on the carriage. "Where are you from? Be specific!"
The car door opened, but Thanos did not get out. He simply glanced at the soldiers with his eyes, hidden in the shadow of his hat brim, a polite smile on his lips.
"Misty Harbor".
As he spoke, he reached into his coat to search for the completely unimportant customs documents, and then "accidentally" dropped a pack of cigarettes on the ground.
Those soldiers were discerning; their eyes widened the moment they saw the box of cigarettes.
The leader, in particular, underwent a complete 180-degree change in attitude, his mouth stretching almost to his ears, and he instantly forgot all about what he wanted to ask.
"Oh dear, so you are distinguished guests from the south! Why didn't you say so sooner? Please invite our guests in!"
As he spoke, he quickly bent down to pick up the cigarette box and called to his brothers to open the door.
"Sir, come see me again next time. My name is Jerry, everyone knows me. Don't hesitate to ask if you need any help."
cigarette!
This newfangled item, which originated from the front lines of Count Spinol, has now become the hard currency of Roland City, even more famous than the Encyclopedia and the New Testament, which first circulated here.
Next came the silver pounds, and then the silver coins.
As for gold coins, those were toys for royalty and nobility, never appearing in the pockets of ordinary people. And copper coins? Nobody would be interested in those things that were practically crumbling into sand.
Thanos smiled slightly, watching the soldiers who had suddenly started calling him brothers, as if he were watching a good show.
"must."
If they survive until then.
The wooden fence was pushed open, and the carriage resumed its journey, slowly entering the snow-covered city of Roland.
Behind him, Jerry's men were already eagerly dividing up the loot and arguing over who should get an extra one.
Not far away was the Lionheart Knights' encampment, with the barracks bearing the golden lion banner clearly visible, but the knights obviously had no say in that.
Perhaps they disdain to get involved, or perhaps they are too busy to care about their own problems.
According to intelligence from the Stigmata Organization, Hagmer brought back tens of thousands of refugees.
Those beggars who were once driven out of the capital, survivors who returned home with a stubborn determination, and those who had nothing left after their provisions were "requisitioned" by the Knights along the way—they were swarming into Roland like locusts, devouring the city's last vestiges of life.
The Lionheart Knights' intentions were probably good, but they ended up delivering a fatal blow to the already battered city.
Beyond hunger and cold, Roland City is now mired in a three-way conflict.
It started as a battle between the tomb keepers and the Chartists, with the king's assassins biting anyone who dared to question the monarchy like mad dogs.
The Chartist revolutionaries did not retreat; they fought back fearlessly in every street and every house.
Just as the storm was brewing, the angry lion finally returned to its den, only to find itself caught between the Chartists and the gravediggers, unable to move forward or backward.
This is the most bizarre place in Roland City.
"Deathstroke" Cassius seems to have received support from external forces, as he actually fought to a standstill with "Radiant Knight" Hagmer.
Both sides accused each other of being treacherous and vowed to defend the kingdom. Meanwhile, Theoden de Vallout sat calmly on his terrace, watching his captive lions and hyenas fight, remaining neutral.
Navi muttered something in the front seat, so softly it was almost inaudible, but it clearly did not escape the ears of the Shadow Demon General.
What a waste.
He seemed to feel sorry for his guests; bribing those soldiers wouldn't have required a whole pack of cigarettes. Or perhaps he was simply envious of those men carrying guns; because the guns were in their hands, no matter how many people starved to death, they wouldn't go hungry.
Even if everyone in the city starved to death, they could still live peacefully until the end, and even have cigarettes to smoke.
Thanos's lips curled into a playful smile as he thoroughly enjoyed the timid, retreating figure. As a demon, he felt no pity for humans, finding their scent as sweet as honey.
By Bayeris—
Oh no, now the Demon King is on top!
After all, during the hundreds of years that Bayeri ruled Hell, nothing so interesting had ever happened on the surface of the earth.
With reverence for the Demon King, Thanos shifted his gaze from the coachman's back and slowly drifted toward the streets on either side.
The once glorious capital city was now divided into twisted trenches by barricades. Furniture, stones, barrels, doors—everything that could be moved was piled up together.
Behind the barricades stood several men, some carrying spears, others flintlock pistols. These men were not all Chartist insurgents; most were simply guarding their streets, watching out for soldiers and bandits who might try to take advantage of the chaos.
That looks like an antelope baring its teeth.
And in a tavern not far from them, several corpses that looked no different from their own hung on the signboard.
The corpses swayed in the wind like frozen wind chimes. Occasionally, a few crows could be seen landing on their shoulders, pecking at the frozen flesh without restraint, feasting in the apocalypse.
Compared to this, the hell vilified in the Book of the Word is utterly insignificant.
Thanos sighed inwardly, thinking that humans were the ones who knew best how to torment themselves.
"gentlemen."
The coachman's voice came from the front seat, tinged with a hint of cautious probing.
"What's wrong?" Thanos asked in a gentle and elegant tone, much like the Demon King whom he both respected and feared.
“Do you need a servant? Or a guide…” Navi said hurriedly, “I know this city very well; I’ve lived here since I was a child—”
"I'm sorry, I don't need it."
"Oh, I see... Sorry, never mind." Navi's shoulders shrank even further, as if he regretted not being able to get his hands on that meal ticket.
"No need to apologize for that. Besides, although I don't need a guide, I'd still be happy to talk to you about your hometown."
As he said this, Thanos took a cigarette from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to the front of the carriage through the open curtain.
Upon catching sight of the cigarette, Navi's hand trembled, and his voice immediately became stammering.
"This...this is too valuable, sir, I..."
"Take it, this is your payment."
Looking at that face that clearly wanted it, Thanos's smile, hidden under the brim of his hat, became even more wicked.
Navi reached out with trembling hands, took the cigarette, and carefully put it into his inner pocket.
He did not set it on fire like the soldiers did.
Even in the food-scarce city of Roland, a single cigarette could buy many things that money couldn't, and could even save his family's lives.
“Thank you, sir,” Navi’s voice choked with emotion. “You…you are such a kind person.”
Thanos did not respond to this statement.
Good people.
It's rather comical that this word came from a human's mouth and landed in the ears of a demon.
Sensing the awkward silence, Navi swallowed his choked-up emotions and continued speaking.
"What would you like to know? I will answer whatever I know."
“Let me think,” Thanos said, his gaze sweeping over a barricade with a slogan on it. “Tell me about those people first. They seem a little different from the others.”
Navi glanced at them nervously, then quickly looked away, as if afraid of getting involved with them.
“Those guys are probably Chartist informants, and some people call them the National Assembly. Of course... this is just my guess; they don’t usually operate during the day.”
"I asked with great interest," Thanos asked.
What do you think of them?
Navi did not answer immediately.
The brief silence was broken only when the carriage wheels rolled over a pebble with a thud.
“I don’t know, sir.”
His voice sounded confused.
"Like other citizens, I think their idea is good, but..."
He paused, then lowered his voice.
"Their chances of winning are too slim. Did you see those bodies? Almost all of them are theirs, and many of them were skilled stonemasons."
Thanos followed his gaze and saw another corpse swaying in the wind and snow, its empty eyes mirroring the confusion in Navi's eyes.
"What a pity."
"Yes."
Navi sighed, his voice carrying an indescribable sadness.
"After this year, Roland City will probably never be able to build a building as magnificent as the Summer Palace and the Saint Laurent Cathedral again."
Thanos did not respond.
What really bothered him was another issue.
"And what about the gravedigger?"
Navi's body visibly trembled.
The reins tightened and loosened in his hands, then tightened again.
"Sir...please forgive me, I...I dare not comment on them."
Thanos's smile grew increasingly wicked as he handed out two more cigarettes, gently placing them into the coachman's pocket.
"Go ahead and tell me, just to satisfy my curiosity. I'm from out of town, would I report you? I'm not going to cause trouble for myself."
Navi's Adam's apple bobbed, perhaps thinking of his hungry children, or perhaps of his bedridden wife.
He gritted his teeth and finally spoke.
"I can only tell you that you'd better not mess with them. Those guys... have gone mad."
Seemingly feeling that this statement wasn't worth two cigarettes, and worried that the payment would be taken back, Navi added a few more words.
“They kill people every day. Not just insurgents, but also some people who are inexplicably targeted. No matter what they did to be targeted, once they are taken away, they can forget about seeing the sun rise the next day... they won’t even see the body.”
"Tanos asked curiously."
"And what about Hagmer? Is our hero just going to sit idly by?"
Navi's expression became somewhat complicated when the name was mentioned.
"Lord Hagmer... of course he couldn't stand it, otherwise he wouldn't have drawn his sword and pointed it at... that person."
The fear of "Deathstroke" was etched into his very bones, to the point that even the name felt like a burning tongue, and he dared not utter it lightly.
He swallowed hard, skipped over the man, and continued speaking.
“I am very worried about Prince Hagmer. He is a truly good man, and if there is one knight left in the Land of Knights, it must be him. It’s just that… his kindness has harmed himself and those around him. We can all sense that the King no longer trusts him.”
"Tanos asked curiously."
"Isn't he the king's brother?"
“Yes, but… didn’t Edward also imprison his own brother on the island?” Navi gave a wry smile and continued, “Things in the court are always so unpredictable. It’s best for us ordinary people outside the castle not to get involved.”
Thanos smiled faintly.
The coachman saw things clearly, but unfortunately it was of no use.
"It seems that the royal business is off."
He sighed with feigned regret, leaned back in his chair, and then changed the subject.
"What about ordinary people? You know I'm a tobacco merchant, and I'm looking for business opportunities. Who do you think would be interested in my goods?"
Navi was silent for a moment, then his silence turned into a bitter smile.
"Business? Sir, don't be ridiculous. What time is it? Forget about your business. What the people here need most is food and firewood... although I'm not sure if I'll need those things tomorrow."
Thanos: "So pessimistic?"
Navi kept his head down.
Do I have any reason to be optimistic?
The carriage continued on its way, passing through one desolate street after another, though the barricades were visibly fewer in number.
Instead, more and more slogans appeared on the walls. Some were about the charter, others about bread, and all of them were clearly aimed at the king.
Theodore seemed oblivious, or perhaps he simply didn't care, after all, the two strongest supernatural powers in the city were in his hands.
No matter how fiercely they fight, they are fighting for his crown.
Including the National Assembly.
Although they defiantly declared that they would no longer be loyal to any secular monarch, they dared not say that they wanted to replace the king of the Kingdom of Ryan.
The snow was falling heavier and heavier, as if it would bury the entire city.
Navi's voice rang out again, this time speaking to himself.
"It's all karma."
Thanos raised his eyebrows slightly.
"What."
Navi continued with a wry smile.
“There’s an old lunatic near my house. He went insane last winter. He might have gotten some kind of unclean stuff on him. Every day he’s muttering to himself in front of the wall, saying that the spirits of those who died in winter are coming to claim our lives…”
An interesting statement.
Thanos didn't express his opinion, but he smiled dismissively to himself.
The very people who once built the Saint Laurent Cathedral have now begun to believe in the ravings of folk shamans. It seems the Church's influence in this city has indeed dwindled to almost nothing.
For a demon like him, this is certainly a good thing.
Perhaps the task the Demon King gave him wasn't as hopeless as he initially imagined...
The carriage finally stopped in front of an inn. It was closer to the upper town, and the streets were a bit cleaner than the outskirts; at least no corpses were hanging from the eaves. The inn's sign was faded, and the paint on the wooden door was peeling and chipped, but a few reassuring lights shone behind the window.
Thanos paid the fare and gave Navi an extra pack of cigarettes as a tip, since he had plenty of those anyway.
"Good luck."
Navi stared blankly at him, his eyes slightly red, and finally bowed deeply. His trembling figure seemed so fragile, as if a gust of wind could knock him over; even the demon could hardly bear to watch.
Thanos did not linger outside the door, but pushed open the hotel door and went inside.
The sound of the wind chimes attracted very few glances. Only a handful of guests sat sparsely in the lobby, all with their heads down, looking as if they were preoccupied with their own thoughts.
The hotel was dimly lit; the few oil lamps visible outside the window seemed to be the only source of light for the entire hotel.
A middle-aged man stood behind the bar. He was short and stout, wearing an greasy apron, wiping a chipped wine glass with a rag, his movements tinged with resentment.
Thanos walked to the bar, took out a wooden plaque from his pocket, and gently placed it on the counter.
The card had a simple design engraved on it, almost invisible in the dim light.
"The long night is coming."
His voice was soft, but just enough for the man behind the bar to hear.
The man paused for a moment while wiping the cups, then gently placed the cloth under the counter and answered in the same deep voice.
"The bell tolls on and on... Please follow me."
That's the code of the Holy Mark Organization.
The man handed the business over to the bartender who came out from the kitchen, then stepped out from behind the bar and led Thanos deeper into the hotel.
They walked through a narrow corridor into the wine cellar, pushed aside a wine barrel leaning against the wall, and entered a secret room hidden behind the wall.
The door closed behind him, shutting him out of everything outside.
Thanos removed his top hat, revealing his face hidden in the shadows; his pale skin stood out starkly in the candlelight.
Like a ghost coming to claim a life.
"Give me a report on the latest situation in Roland City."
Upon hearing that chilling, tombstone-like voice, the contact dared not delay and bowed deeply.
"Yes, sir 'Shadow'."
……
The increasingly fierce wind and snow shook the faint candlelight of the Saint Laurent Cathedral. Meanwhile, the clock tower, far downstream on the flowing river, was still bathed in the lingering warmth of the late autumn sun.
The cold wind blowing from the northern wilderness seemed to have lost its way halfway, and had not yet reached this prosperous and fertile land. Women wearing woolen coats were playing with their children in the riverside park, which was covered with fallen red leaves, and their laughter was carried far by the wind.
On the other side of the river is a thriving new industrial zone, with rows of red brick factory buildings rising from the ground, along with neat and uniform chimneys, completely transforming the once barren riverbank.
It has also changed the appearance of many people.
At the entrance of a brand-new factory, Alberto looked up at the plaque hanging in front of the cast-iron gate.
A line of text was printed on it using a gold foil stamping technique—
Alberto Shipyard
The line of golden letters gleamed in the sunlight, the reflected light making Alberto's eyes feel hot.
Even in his dreams, he never imagined that he would one day transform from a small shopkeeper who depended on the mage tower for survival into a factory owner with hundreds of employees.
"By Saint Sith..." he murmured softly, expressing the overwhelming emotions welling up in his heart.
Just then, a steady, powerful footstep came from not far behind him, interrupting his reverie.
"Rather than praising Saint Sis, I think we should praise the generous prince... Mr. Alberto, welcome to Thunder City."
Upon hearing the voice, Alberto immediately turned around and saw a middle-aged man walking towards him with a smile.
The man's hair was neatly combed, and he was dressed in a sharp suit. If it weren't for his hands, which were as calloused as his own, one might mistake him for a hereditary nobleman.
"Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Punk, and I am His Highness Colin's partner and his most loyal servant." As Punk spoke, he handed a business card to Alberto.
Alberto accepted the business card with both hands, feeling flattered, and leaned forward slightly in a respectful gesture.
"Nice to meet you... Mr. Punk."
Although the other person did not possess the aura of a superhuman, the confidence and composure emanating from their eyes made Alberto dare not underestimate them in the slightest.
Long before arriving in Thunder City, he had heard about this legendary figure in a roadside tavern—a stable boy who, with the chance of a single gold coin, seized the opportunity of the times and eventually rose from nothing to become one of the city's giants.
The magicians of the Academy always despise the power of mortals, arrogantly believing that ordinary people are nothing but ants. However, Alberto is not so short-sighted. After all, his strength is no different from that of mortals compared to those magicians. At most, he can light a fire without a match.
Looking at the slightly awkward younger man, Punk laughed heartily and gestured for him to enter.
"Please don't be so polite. Since you are His Highness Colin's friend, you are also my friend. Please come with me, let us see your future territory, and hopefully it will satisfy you."
After saying that, he led the still somewhat uneasy Alberto across the cast-iron gate and into the massive shipyard.
Unlike the Royal Shipyard located in the port area, this place is not directly connected to the wide waterways. After all, the behemoths it builds do not need to sail on turbulent seas, but rather conquer the boundless blue sky above.
“This used to be a textile factory. Later, its owner made a fortune and moved to a larger new factory, so he turned this place into a warehouse. After hearing your demanding requirements for the factory’s ceiling height and span, I immediately thought of this place.”
Looking at the massive steel beams overhead, Alberto couldn't help but ask, "How much did you pay for it?"
Punk smiled slightly and replied casually, "It's not cheap, but that's not something you need to worry about. His Highness Colin has instructed me to provide you with all the necessary support, whether it's money or manpower. You just need to focus on completing the tasks he has assigned you."
Alberto looked around, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.
Although the shipyard has not yet officially started construction, the air is already filled with a lively and bustling atmosphere.
Workers in gray overalls are busy moving equipment, assembling heavy metal lifting devices and pulleys on both sides of the reinforced load-bearing columns.
Not far away, several construction workers wearing hard hats were directing the construction team to make final modifications to the dome, referring to the blueprints in their hands.
According to Alberto's bold vision, his engineers would work on cranes tens of meters high, assembling the airship directly on the suspended keel.
Once the airship's hull is assembled, the shipyard's dome will slide open to both sides, pulled by runes and pulleys.
At that time, the already inflated airbags will descend directly from the air and lift the massive hull away.
It has to be said that this is an extremely crazy idea.
However, once it is successfully implemented, it will undoubtedly greatly reduce the amount of logistics resources required and double production efficiency!
After walking around the factory, the two arrived at a relatively quiet office.
Seeing Punk close the door, Alberto could no longer contain his excitement and said eagerly.
"I'm very satisfied with this place. When will the factory renovation be completed? My apprentices and I can't wait!"
Punk smiled and continued.
"I assure you, it will be possible before winter ends. But before that, Your Highness Colin has a few small matters you would like to ask you to look into first."
Alberto immediately took it seriously upon hearing this.
"what's up?"
"It shouldn't be difficult for you, it just requires a little... imagination."
With that, Punk walked to the corner of the office and took three rolled-up sheets of paper from a pre-prepared file holder.
He took the drawings to the long table, slowly spread them out, and first showed the first one to Alberto.
"You should be familiar with this blueprint."
"This is... the Truth?"
Alberto leaned closer for a look. The airship on the blueprints was about 80% similar to the Truth, with only minor differences in some details.
For example, the complex power system was simplified, and the expensive magic array was replaced with a more mechanized structure. The luxurious decorations of the passenger cabin were completely removed and replaced with a more versatile cargo hold.
The enormous sails that spread out to both sides have also been shortened and made more compact, looking less exaggerated than before, but more durable.
He soon noticed a line of small print at the bottom of the drawing—
【Ork Magic Workshop】
what is that?
Just as he was wondering, Punk continued.
"His Highness Colin hired alchemists from the continent of Gana to make some modifications to the airship Truth. This 'Pelican' is essentially a lightweight version of it, sacrificing some decoration and comfort in exchange for increased cargo capacity and stability. It will serve as the Duchy's air carriage, supplementing the railway network."
He paused, then added a sentence.
"His Highness attaches great importance to this project. The terrain of the newly developed Yuanshan Province is complex, and it needs this kind of flexible transportation. He believes it will play a significant role in the development of Yuanshan Province!"
Alchemists of the continent of Gana?
Alberto's expression was somewhat strange.
As a craftsman bearing the mark of the academic community, his prejudice against the profession of alchemist is roughly equivalent to the prejudice of traditional priests against saints.
That doesn't sound like a good thing at all.
"Is the person Your Highness found reliable?"
Punk seemed to have anticipated this question and smiled mysteriously.
"You can rest assured about that. They call themselves the children of the Dragon God. Although their way of thinking is... unique, they are not like those adventurers on the continent of Os who only know how to swindle money. They are very good at tinkering with these mechanical gadgets."
Seeing Punk's certainty, Alberto's anxiety lessened slightly. After all, Prince Colin's judgment had never been wrong.
He continued to follow Punk's finger and looked at the second drawing.
This thing is a ferocious behemoth, with a huge airbag carrying a dense array of bomb bays, while the passenger cabin has been completely omitted, leaving only a narrow cockpit.
He paid special attention to the signature of the "design unit," and the drawing came from the "I think it's possible" Magic Workshop.
Alberto's lips twitched.
The name sounded rather dubious, almost like a drunkard's scribbling. However, remembering Mr. Punk's claim that they were all children of the Dragon God, he decided to give them a shot.
After all, they seemed pretty awesome a thousand years ago.
Looking at the silent Alberto, Punk introduced him.
"This thing is called the Kirov Heavy Airship."
Alberto asked instinctively.
Who is Kirov?
"I don't know, maybe it's the designer?"
Punk shrugged, clearly not understanding the meaning of the strange name either, but it wasn't important.
"His Highness's exact words were, 'We need an aerial fortress that can rain down death over the enemy. And in the most extreme case, it will also serve as our last shell, delivering a devastating blow to our enemy.'"
This statement is chilling.
However, as an engineer who pursues the ultimate in craftsmanship, a spark of excitement also ignited in Alberto's heart.
A "miracle weapon" that could change the nature of warfare will be born in his hands!
He had no doubt that from the moment the Kirov took off, his name would be recorded in history along with the nightmare that was thrown to the ground!
Seeing Alberto holding his breath, Punk raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Is it possible?"
I don't think it's a big problem!
Alberto gave an excited reply and then turned to the last drawing.
"And this? What is this?"
The picture shows a ship.
The ship had no sails or a traditional wooden hull; its towering smokestack was covered with thick armor plates.
At first, he thought he had misread it, until he confirmed the few lines of small print on the drawing.
That is indeed steel!
This is actually a ship covered in armor!
“Ironclad warships,” Punk uttered the fantastical term, then continued, “His Highness Colin wants us to research methods for covering the surfaces of warships with steel—”
Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Alberto's exclamation.
"How is this possible!"
Before Punk could explain, he continued in a hurried tone.
"Steel is too heavy. I've never heard of anything made of iron floating on water. This completely defies common sense!"
Punk waited quietly for him to finish speaking, then uttered a soft, hushed remark.
“I know this sounds incredible, but… before you met that prince, had you ever heard of a ship flying in the sky?”
Upon hearing this, Alberto fell silent.
indeed.
Before meeting that prince, he also thought airships were a pipe dream.
However, when he figured out the "scientific" principle behind it, he found that things were not that complicated; as long as the lift was greater than the gravity, it would work.
Thinking about this, his mind suddenly cleared.
Making steel float on water... doesn't seem entirely impossible?
If the hull is made large enough to displace enough water, making the average density of the entire ship less than that of water... theoretically, this huge "hollow iron lump" could float like a piece of wood.
This may sound counterintuitive, but upon closer examination, it is scientifically sound.
Alberto looked at the blueprints again, silently calculating as he stared at the area filled with parameters. But at that moment, a new problem arose.
"This ship probably can't be completed in this factory, even if it's theoretically feasible—"
Punk interrupted him with a smile.
“Of course. Our prince never intended for you to produce it here; your main job remains creating those overlords of the skies.”
Alberto was stunned and asked, puzzled.
"Then why give me this blueprint?"
"Because His Highness trusts your wisdom."
Punk walked to the table, placed his hands on the surface, and looked intently at the craftsman from Xuebang.
"His Highness hopes that you can thoroughly understand this blueprint and fully verify its feasibility. Then, you will instruct the engineers at Campbell Royal Shipyard to utilize their deep-water docks, skilled technicians, and the resources of Thunder City's new industrial zone to complete the first experimental ship."
The airship project that Alberto shipyard is about to put into operation is the most promising project to integrate the advanced productivity of the new industrial zone in Thunder City.
Even Campbell Royal Shipyard can't compare to this.
After all, that old shipyard mainly integrated resources from the old industrial area, and actually used very few new technologies.
At this point, Punk paused for a moment, his tone becoming exceptionally serious.
"Our prince believes that you are the most likely person to turn this blueprint from fantasy into reality, and he asks you to have more confidence in yourself. Of course, there is no need to rush this matter; it is a future plan, and you have plenty of time to study it. What you really need to produce now are the contents of the first two blueprints."
Upon hearing these solemn instructions, Alberto felt an unprecedented sense of mission welling up in his heart.
If he hesitated any longer after His Highness Colin's generous sponsorship of his cause, even he himself would feel that he was being ungrateful.
He took a deep breath and carefully rolled up the three drawings.
"I understand... I will do my best!"
(End of this chapter)