After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World

As for the male aborigines and guests, they were either in the sports stadiums, in the arcade, or in casinos. More often than not, they just rotated among those types of places, with the occasional food or shopping stops here and there.

The Golds had actually dyed their hair different colors to minimize the attention on them. Anyway, their faces weren’t so widespread, and even their name had limited reach beyond their region.

Even Oslo’s arrival was known to a few people like Jonathan and other well-informed nobles. Others just knew him as a handsome blonde Alterra was lucky to hire via the arrays.

Of course, it was inevitable that someone would recognize them after some time, particularly those who had been to Bluelle or had encountered one of them at some point. Even if they shaved their heads, some people might still recognize them.

Heck, even Bart from a far away Town recognized them back then, which was saying a lot.

There were some worries about what it implied for Alterra, but the Elders reassured them that Alterra would be their home as long as they wanted it to be.

Even if they annoyed a City, they could just send Towns at most. They were not the only ones with allies!

They were being sincere, too, and it touched the Golds deeply. They just swore to help Alterra grow to the best of their ability.

Not to mention: it wasn’t like Orion, Zaol, and Otto did not have a plan to delay their detection.

In fact, even if they announced they were here, it was estimated Bleulle would still take time to zone in on Alterra, considering its distance as well as all the distractions they planted elsewhere.

Anyway, in the few cases where they were recognized, many of the aborigine men naturally went to greet them.

Zaol made it clear that they were stripped of everything and some really did lose interest. Some remained in contact to get more information, likely to report on it on their own bosses.

No one dared ask Zaol directly, though. Despite his meek nature, he was still a high-level individual. Regardless of whether his strength was a product of aether stones, the power reserves of such a high-leveled individual really weren’t something they would risk fighting against.

Instead, they would low-key ask Otto or Oslo, in the guise of some business transactions.

For example, “Oh, it’s not yours to handle anymore? So who will be distributing the goods in Bleuelle?”

“Are all your properties gone?!”

Or “Oh no… I was meaning to strike deals. Who will be in charge of the the Blus, then?”

And so on…

Anyway, it got very annoying. Zaol showed strength by releasing some aura to shut them up. In some other case, it was Orion who would suddenly have sparks of electricity floating around him.

This reminded people that—while the Golds were no longer economic powerhouses—they weren’t weak Gugu Birds, either.

Anyway, the Golds went to watch a basketball game with the crowds cheering wildly, and therefore the bootlickers had no time to chatter with them.

It was such an interesting activity. One had to take the rules in consideration and follow the fast-paced passing and dribbling of the ball as well as follow who was shooting it.

On top of the swift exchanges, the players also had to use their brains to strategize and to understand the next moves. The rules were strict and interesting. Rather than limit the gameplay, they were there to make things more exciting.

It was thrilling, but without the threat of life, which made it so much more special.

“WHOOAA!”

“Shoot!”

“Foul! That was foul!”

“Is the referee blind?!”

The stadium was quite noisy, and somehow, at some point, many aborigines, including Obi, were yelling. “I have good eyesight! That was a foul!!”

Basketball in Xeno was naturally very different from what Terrans used to play.

After all, they had improved physiques, accuracy, and the like. For the archers with sure-hit accuracy skills, it would’ve been like a cheat if no rules were modified.

For one, the Xeno basketball was much heavier and a little smaller than before.

It would still bounce, but it was a lot more difficult to control. It also required a decent amount of arm strength, otherwise they wouldn’t last a quarter until they’d get tired.

The ‘no traveling’ rule was reduced by half, and what counted as a foul was a lot more lenient.

Basically, it was a light sparring session with a lot of rules.

There were also separate leagues that separated players according to a range of levels. No matter how skilled, a level 10 wouldn’t be able to compare with a level 20 in this game—not without getting seriously injured.

Around this time, one of the players appeared out of nowhere next to the person dribbling the ball. His teammate lunged forward and slightly touched the man, but the target managed to shift the ball to his other hand, skillfully maneuvering and barely avoiding the ‘traveling’ charge.

However, the teammate was also fast, tapping on the ball, which the other member managed to catch. But then the point guard from the opposite team appeared, grabbing the ball and quickly passing it to their shooter, who immediately went to take a shot.

The shot was accurate, but it was rushed so the parabola it created was not high enough.

The center from the opposing team—someone who was at the peak level allowed in their league—jumped up to a height Terrans would never achieve at a low level. His palm reached the ball and slapped it down, sending it to the hands of a teammate, and another fast break began.

In a blink of an eye, the defending team immediately ran to the other side of the court, switching their positions.

“Whoa!”

“Go!”

“GAHHHH!”

There were lots of merchandise as well. Each Team (which could be owned by private companies) claimed color combinations to represent their team, and their fans would buy to show their support. It was quite capitalist, but everyone was eating it up because it was fun.

For example, the current game was against the Woodworkers (Baron’s company) and the Guides (Fred’s). Baron took the brown and white color scheme, while Fred took the red and orange. Some even took another mile and designed their own logos.

Anyway, it was all very official.

There were even announcers with deep and jovial voices, definitely just as passionate as the other fans. Of course, they were forbidden to show their biases.

“And Troy takes the ball! It bounces in the opposite direction, thankfully the captain Fred managed to catch—oh, nevermind.”

“Surprisingly, always-an-underdog Troy actually, actually, managed to defend his hold! GAH! How unexpected!!”

Troy—who was very energetic because his woman was on the benches—managed to steal back the ball from his childhood rival.

He then squeezed in between the defenders, passing the ball to his teammate, who happened to be an archer.

His eyes were bright as he saw his teammate’s great form.

And score~!

“HAHAHHHA!”

Fred cursed. “I’ll beat you next time!” he said.

Troy gave a shameless grin, looking at his lover wearing his team’s (the Woodworkers) merchandise.

“Then find yourself an inspiration first.”

lol sorry for the random sports chap lololol