Chapter 130. Dorg
He turned to look at Logaris. In those sowhat clouded eyes, a deeply concealed sharpness suddenly flashed.
“You are a smart man, Professor. You should understand that so things remain old because they are stable. New things may be good, but they are too sharp. They are easy to cut yourself on, and easy to… offend others.”
So that was the warning.
He was unhappy that the Northern Territory was moving too fast and cutting into certain people’s interests.
Logaris smiled.
He hated people who spoke in circles like this.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand what Your Highness ans.” Leaning against the counter, Logaris showed none of the reverence one might expect toward the heir to the throne. “I deal in technology. In my eyes, if sothing old is inefficient, then it belongs in the trash. As for whether it might cut soone’s hand…”
He paused and looked Dorg straight in the eye.
“That depends on who is holding the knife.”
Dorg froze for a mont.
Clearly, he had not expected Logaris to push back so bluntly.
But rather than angering him, it only made him smile more broadly.
“Haha… cough, cough, cough!” Dorg laughed too hard and was imdiately seized by a violent fit of coughing, his whole face flushing red. A nearby attendant hurriedly offered him a water flask, but he waved it away.
“Well said. The one holding the knife.” Dorg finally steadied his breathing. There was even a trace of admiration in the way he looked at Logaris now. “No wonder Sylvia was willing to fall out with the council just to protect you. A man like you… truly is interesting.”
He turned and pointed at the fire elental crystal inside the glass case.
“Shopkeeper.”
The goblin owner, who had been pretending to be dead in the corner, practically crawled over in panic.
“Your Highness! Y-your command!”
“I’ll take this.” Dorg accepted a black-gold card from his attendant and casually tossed it to the goblin. “Pack it up and send it to Professor Logaris.”
“Huh?” The goblin was dumbfounded.
Aaron was dumbfounded too.
Ten thousand Golden Lion Coins. Just like that?
“What is the aning of this, Your Highness?” Logaris did not reach out to take it. He rely looked at Dorg.
“It ans nothing.” Dorg smoothed the wrinkles on his cuff, his tone calm. “The Northern Territory is undergoing developnt, and you are Sylvia’s chief adviser. Consider this a little… support from , as her elder brother.”
With that, Dorg patted Logaris on the shoulder with the easy familiarity of an old friend.
“I’m leaving. The air underground is too foul. Cough, cough… the sunlight above is much better.”
Dorg turned and left. His guards imdiately followed, and that suffocating pressure disappeared with them.
Only after their figures had completely vanished around the corner did the air in the shop begin to move again.
“So that was the First Prince?…” Aaron looked baffled. “That was the First Prince? He looked like so sickly stray cat.”
Logaris looked at the box in his hand containing the crystal.
That Dorg…
was very interesting.
Anyone with eyes knew that the relationship among Sylvia and her siblings was poor—one could even say they were like fire and water. Yet this move from Dorg left him puzzled.
Was he trying to let Sylvia keep Carlisle in check? It could not be that simple, Logaris thought.
Forget it. Once the equipnt was hauled back, he would crush everything head-on when the ti ca. Who cared what Dorg was thinking?
“Take it.” Logaris tossed the box to Aaron.
“Ah? We’re really accepting it?” Aaron fumbled to catch it. “Could this be a sugar-coated bullet?”
“Eat the sugar coating and throw the bullet back.” Logaris said disdainfully. “If soone wants to give us money, why shouldn’t we take it?”
He glanced at his pocket watch.
“It’s about ti. Let’s go to the station. We shouldn’t keep those newly arrived ‘leeks’… ah, no, our future pillars of society waiting too long.”
…
Two in the afternoon. Central Station of the royal capital.
A special train bearing the Black Iron Lion banner stood at the platform. Thick white steam billowed from its enormous smokestack, and it let out a deep chanical rumble.
This entire train had been reserved by those heading to the Northern Territory.
Aside from the last two carriages, which were stuffed with all kinds of contraband materials and equipnt that Logaris had “procured” this ti, the front carriages were packed with the several hundred graduates they had recruited.
The young people were flushed with excitent, all of them crowding by the windows and chattering nonstop.
“So that’s the legendary magitech train? It looks incredible!”
“This is my first ti riding one!”
Aaron was miserably stationed at the train door, maintaining order while also stopping a few troublemakers who were trying to bring prohibited laboratory reagents aboard.
“Stop shoving! Sit according to your departnts! You there—put your man-eating plant away! Offensive vegetation is not allowed on this train!”
Logaris stood on the platform, watching the chaotic but lively scene.
WOOOOO—!
The whistle gave a long cry, its powerful sound tearing through the stillness of the afternoon.
The massive steel wheels began to turn, grinding sharply against the rails. The train slowly accelerated like an iron serpent, carrying this group of dream-filled youths away from the center of power.
The wheels rolled onward, all the way north.
…
WOOOOO—!
The enormous whistle tore through the cold winds that circled the skies of the Northern Territory year-round.
Amid a screech of grinding tal, the steel beast slowly decelerated and finally ca to a stable stop beside the half-expanded station platform of Winter City, accompanied by a thunderous blast from the exhaust valve.
White steam exploded outward like a cloud bomb, instantly swallowing half the platform.
The doors opened, and several hundred young people in Saint Arcadia Academy uniforms poured out like chicks released from a cage, scrambling to jump down first.
Before they could even steady themselves, a freezing gust carrying the sll of coal ash, machine oil, and snow rushed straight down their collars.
“Achoo!”
Sneezes rang out one after another.
“So… this is it?”
A girl clutching a staff hunched her neck and stared blankly into the distance.
This was the “dreamlike magitech capital” from the brochure?
Before them was a gray sky. Countless giant black smokestacks jutted from the earth like cigarettes planted into the ground, spewing black smoke into the heavens without restraint. The thunderous rumble of machinery was so intense that even from several kiloters away it made the soles of their feet go numb.
As for those so-called “towers” in the distance, there was no mysterious halo of runes around them at all—only cold steel scaffolding and busy hoisting golems.
“Where’s the colorful aurora from the brochure?” soone asked the soul-searching question.
“It’s probably… blocked by the boiler house smoke,” another student answered despairingly, covering his face.
Logaris stepped down from the first-class carriage, his polished leather boots crunching sharply on the snow mixed with coal slag.
He swept a glance over these still-dazed “leeks,” then turned to look at the utterly exhausted Aaron behind him.
“The people are here.” Logaris adjusted the collar of his coat, sounding as lighthearted as a hands-off shopkeeper. “The rest of the placent work is yours. Whether you put them in communal dormitories or make them sleep in the boiler room, I want to see them at their workstations in every departnt by tomorrow morning.”
Aaron was carrying dozens of pounds of docunts and samples in his arms. His expression was so bitter it looked like water could drip from it.
“Professor, you’re leaving just like that? What if these students start causing trouble…”
“That is a problem for the Human Resources Departnt, not for the Chief Engineer.”
Logaris patted Aaron on the shoulder. The gesture was full of encouragent—or perhaps schadenfreude.
“Tell them this: if anyone thinks life here is too hard, they can buy a ticket back right now. Of course, they’ll need to cough up their prepaid salary and the two thousand Golden Lion Coins of settlent allowance first.”
After delivering that killer line, Logaris did not give Aaron any chance to complain. He waved down a Governor’s Residence carriage that had already been waiting nearby.
The carriage door shut, sealing out the noise and the cold.
“To the residence.”
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