My Players Are So Fierce

1110: 376.

Make cement?

Isn’t that just a matter of using your hands?

1110: 376.

Make cement?

Isn’t that just a matter of using your hands?

Even though Ellen, the “Engineering Master” of Crimson Castle, wanted to see the champion of Transia’s first boxing championship crowned, after a three-day delay at Crimson Castle, she finally decided to set off for the armory in the Andma Hills.

On one hand, Sir Morphy and her apprentice Loyal Brother were incessantly urging her.

Although Loyal Brother was very interested in the steam engineering wonders of the continent and had resolved to master them, learning in itself took time, and currently, Loyal Brother did not have the ability to independently operate an armory founded on “fantasy engineering.”

In simpler terms, Loyal Brother was anxiously shaking people down and eagerly hoping for his little tutor to come and take charge.

On the other hand, the main body of the armory on the Andma Hills had been completed, and the large steam furnace power source promised by the partner Capet Family had already started being transported to the Andma Hills.

It was said that the dozen or so skilled workers sent by the Capet Family had already begun assembling the production line and, at the behest of Loyal Brother, were selecting apprentices from nearby villages and refugees, which meant that the armory’s actual production was about to be scheduled.

Ellen was quite sentimentally attached to this factory.

The weapons production line of the Transia National First Arms Factory was all sourced from the once Westerburg, her “inheritance” that she had thought she could never retrieve but which Sir Morphy had managed to reclaim through political means.

And now, she was also one of the managers and rulers of Transia.

For both emotional and rational reasons, she had to personally participate in the management of the armory.

It was just unfortunate that Dean, the manager who had managed Westerburg’s factory area, and his team of smart and capable workers had all perished in the epidemic disaster.

However, considering that the victims of Westerburg had now evolved into restless Undead bound to their decaying bodies, did that mean that one day in the future, she might still see that excellent factory owner?

With such questions in mind and escorted by two winged cavalrymen and four highlander samurais, Ellen’s carriage slowly set off from Crimson Castle.

Yet, not long after departure, there was an unexpected visitor who appeared beside the carriage and requested to board it to speak with Ellen.

The Little Countess had inherited Sir Morphy’s unique Sin’s Blood, but because the Blood Covenant had been severed by her family’s Source Blood, she was far less resistant to sunlight than Maxim and Adel.

Even in the dimly lit carriage during the day, she could hardly muster any spirit.

It was solely out of adherence to her bloodline that she had not yet slept in her exquisite walnut wood coffin placed in the carriage.

“Miss Doris?”

Ellen looked at the leader of the Blood Rat Gang who had climbed into the carriage.

While drinking the invigorating hot tea suggested by the odd Count Andrei, she asked in surprise,

“Do you need something?

As you can see, I am about to leave Crimson Castle, and it will be at least twenty days before I return.”

“That is exactly why I pressed to visit you,”

Doris didn’t waste Ellen’s time and directly took out a “sample” from her psychic package and handed it over to the Little Countess, who examined it.

It was a carefully crafted card with eight horizontal and eight vertical uniform squares, each adorned with different symbols that were so small one could only see that they depicted various animals from reality or legend.

There were a few repeats, but most were unique.

At the bottom of the card was a simple explanation of the “game” rules.

Ellen was clever enough to immediately realize:

“Is this a game ticket?”

“Yes, it’s similar to the tickets distributed by half-body men during their city celebrations, but this one’s rules are a bit more complicated.

It’s essentially a form of gambling with small bets leading to large gains, not something that can be openly acknowledged.”

Doris leaned back in the carriage seat and conveyed what she had heard from Old Huo to little Sheron,

“For example, this ticket in your hand, once finalized, I will have the psychic warriors of the Blood Rat Gang disguise it.

Each will be sold for 5 copper.

The buyers, after tearing off the crude psychic disguise, can see their ‘winning’ situation.

The animal patterns inside only need one griffon to redeem 5 silver at the purchase point, two griffon patterns for ten silver, three griffons for twenty silver, and if one can get a flying lion + griffon + sea monster combination, it’s the top prize.

A whole 10 gold coins!”

“This is gambling!”

Ellen said alertly,

“My mum told me since I was little not to gamble.

She grew up in the city of the half-body men and saw too many poor insects who lost everything and ended their lives in the gambling houses established by the Thieves’ Guild.

You want to sell this stuff in Crimson Castle?

You really have no conscience!

The people here are poor enough.”

“How could that be possible?”

Doris rolled her eyes and said,

“People in Crimson Castle use labor credits, money circulation here is restricted, and they hardly have any money in their hands.

We’ll extend this to the underground market in Crimson Castle and use Bataxin City as a pilot, and even try to sell it to the Beilao to see the effects.

Of course, this is just a ‘warm-up’ for a much bigger plan, to demonstrate to those rich folks with money to burn that Transia now has places where they can spend their money freely.”