Tiffany could feel Lance’s gesture of goodwill, but her attention was imrsed in the question he raised, and she fell into contemplation.
"To make them able to fight and willing to fight, we must remove their concerns for the future. So I provide them with security, honor them, and offer them tangible material rewards. Only then will those people cast aside their worries and dare to fight, because fighting for is fighting for themselves.
But do you know how much that costs? It’s a terrifying figure. For those who die, I have to support their children; for those injured, I have to treat them; for the disabled, I even have to support them for a lifeti."
Seeing her troubled look, Lance understood what she was thinking and spoke before she could.
"You’re wondering why not just fire them and recruit healthy people, aren’t you?"
Tiffany lifted her head to look at Lance, seemingly surprised that he had guessed her thoughts.
"You don’t know the enemies I’m facing. Only by completely eliminating the fear of death can we overco them. I’m the last hope. I cannot lose."
Tiffany felt that the man before her was becoming even more mysterious; he seed to possess an irresistible attractiveness.
Before she could say anything, Lance asked with a teasing tone, "Do you want to abandon you like those people did?"
Tiffany snapped back to reality and withdrew her gaze. She knew Lance was referring to the guards from the trade caravan who had slacked off and the managent who had undermined her.
At that ti, she had indeed panicked and, to so extent, understood those people.
"So you see, reality isn’t just a ledger. Firing soone is just arbitrarily adjusting a number. If you can abandon them today, then sooner or later, they will abandon you."
Lance lifted his hand and pointed to the refugee camp shrouded in darkness ahead.
"They just want to survive. Are they wrong?"
Following his lead almost blindly, Tiffany looked where he pointed. It was dark, with only him illuminated by the firelight at the camp entrance. The sight made her stare blankly.
"What does that have to do with them?"
"I’m not just doing this for these few people. Who the hell doesn’t know the Church’s Divine Arts have an imdiate effect? Such minor injuries are nothing to them; they can be healed in a breath.
It’s not just the Church; I also have countless ways to easily cure them. But have you considered that the exorbitant cost, asured in Gold Coins, is simply unaffordable for ordinary people?
I need the wounded to recover as soon as possible to avoid disability and lighten my burden. I want everyone to be able to afford dical treatnt, and when they face illness, to know its cause and how to treat it. To solve this problem, we must reform the existing dical system; we must push forward the progress of dical technology."
Lance’s expression beca resolute, conveying a sense of ruthlessness.
"I’m going to establish—a new dical system!"
Tiffany didn’t understand Lance’s reasons, but she could feel his stubborn single-mindedness, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She had never been very assertive. Especially during this recent period, relying on him had made her realize her own lack of ability, and she found it more comfortable to just let things be.
Just muddle along. What other choice is there?
But she couldn’t help feeling a flicker of emotion towards that strange woman.
"Just because of that woman?"
"You haven’t seen her research records. She’s definitely a researcher ahead of her ti," Lance said, noticing her emotion and reassuring her with a smile. "I appreciate talent, and I’m willing to show respect to talented people, like you. I wouldn’t bother explaining this to just anyone."
"You’re a genius with numbers." Lance’s gaze unconsciously swept over Tiffany. "Have more confidence in yourself. You’re quite similar to her."
Tiffany didn’t notice Lance’s gaze, but hearing his words of appreciation finally dispelled that bit of awkwardness. Soon enough, however, concern arose again.
"If she’s so important, aren’t you afraid she might run away and not co back?"
"In this world, only I will accept her, only I can understand her. She will definitely co back," Lance said, gazing confidently into the darkness and murmuring words that others could hardly hear, "Is there a better laboratory than a battlefield soaked in blood?"
Suddenly, as if sensing sothing, Lance turned sharply. He saw Boudica approaching with an Axe-Halberd in hand, her furious deanor indicating she was up to no good.
Tiffany also noticed Lance’s reaction and looked over. Even she could sense the dangerous aura emanating from Boudica.
"Boudica, what’s wrong?"
"Get out of the way! This has nothing to do with you, Tiffany," Boudica said, pushing her aside.
Tiffany had taken care of Boudica for a while during their ti in Ovando City, so Tiffany was one of the few people Boudica would communicate with normally.
But her current reaction left Tiffany sowhat at a loss. What happened?
Boudica paid no attention to her feelings and walked up to Lance.
"Stupid man, killing those skinny Bamboo Poles is not a warrior’s honor! They cannot obtain the forgiveness of the Ancestral Spirit." She raised her Axe-Halberd, pointing it at Lance. "You promised I would die like a warrior, but this—this is an insult to a warrior!"
Lance frowned upon hearing this. Is she complaining that killing the refugees was too easy? So now she’s having another fit and wants to challenge ?
Before Lance could react further, Boudica suddenly let out a strange cry, charged with her halberd, and swung it down fiercely, showing no rcy.
Tiffany didn’t even have ti to react, let alone scream; she was completely petrified.
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