Chapter 722 We Lack Real Professionals
Roland watched from the sidelines rather than barge in.
He watched the father and son quarrel and part on bad terms.
Before the middle-aged man rushed out of the courtyard, the conversation went something like this:
“Wouldn’t it be good to have that money and put it on Sopma?” The middle-aged man rebuked angrily. “Nana is just a girl, she will have to marry someone later—what can she do if she studies and becomes a Mage?”
“Sopma has no talent,” Old Beckrum scolded angrily. “Granddaughter has magic talent; isn’t it better for our family to have a genius Mage than a mediocre Warrior?”
“I told you, sooner or later she will marry someone else-sooner or later she will take the last name of some outsider,” the middle-aged man roared. “We’ll just give away these ten years of hard work as a dowry? You might want to do it, but I don’t! With that money, wouldn’t it be fine for me to eat and drink every day?”
“But…”
The middle-aged man reached out and interrupted him. “Stop it, old man, if you really want to do this, do it yourself. I will take Sopma out of this house and raise her myself.”
“You!”
Old Beckrum was so angry that his head was spinning, and he sidled up and smacked his hand on the stone table next to him.
The middle-aged man grunted and left.
He opened the wooden door of the courtyard, only to see Roland standing outside. He was about to get angry, but then he saw Roland in magic robes and lost his anger.
He dared to be mean to his own family, but he didn’t dare to show any disrespect to Roland, a Mage.
He even smiled, nodded fawningly at Roland, and sidled past the latter, a little timid and nervous.
Roland ignored him and went into the yard to see old Beckrum sitting on a stone bench while the old woman was smoothing her hand down his back.
Roland stared at the child crawling around next to him. He had always thought this one was a boy, but it was a girl.
Well-built and naive-looking, she certainly looked more like a boy.
“What an embarrassment for you to see this, sir,” said Beckrum, ashamed. “My son doesn’t know much about the world. He is a typical Fareinian, who prefers boys over girls,
alas!”
Roland couldn’t comment on other people’s family affairs. He said, “I’m going up to the third floor to rest for a while, so I won’t bother you.”
“The quilt and sheets have already been changed.” Beckrum smiled.
The old woman next to him also smiled, and Roland nodded.
He went up to the third floor and found that there was only one room and a large open balcony.
The bedding in the room was quite clean and still smelled of sunlight mixed with the scent of soap.
Roland sat down and stretched.
Players didn’t need to sleep, but they still needed to rest.
When in a resting state, the system would automatically help the player regulate the body’s fatigue value.
This place was not suitable for doing magic experiments. There was no boundary protection, and if the spell failed, the whole small building would be blown to pieces by magic power.
So he went online.
With half a million players and millions of netizens active on the forums, all sorts of content was generated.
Roland was having a comfortable time in the game, while in reality, over at the underground lab, there was an emergency meeting going on.
The person in charge sat on the podium and said solemnly, “The notice has been sent from above. The matter of comrade Huang Wenwei is henceforth classified as a first-class secret. No one is allowed to leak it, is that understood?”
Everyone nodded.
If the ability to extract deuterium and tritium made Roland have a strong functional role, then the matter of forming nuclear bombs in the hand was completely a strategic human weapon.
Such a man, of course, must not be known to the outside world, or the whole world would be in an uproar.
“It’s also for his protection,” the person in charge continued, “and there’s word from above that we should find a way to move him over to the northwest without earning Roland’s resentment. If that doesn’t work, drop it; Roland’s will is the most important.”
There were many uninhabited regions in the northwest, which was ideal for building large-scale underground laboratories. In reality, much lesser-known scientific research had been done in such places. Everyone present understood that this decision from above was well-justified.
A nuclear-level explosion, no matter how hardened the underground facilities, no matter how well-guarded, would cause great tremors.
This place wasn’t far from the small cities, and a nuclear blast would be enough to send a strong tremor through all the cities within two or three hundred kilometers of it.
They could still use the excuse of a small earthquake once or twice.
If the frequency increased?
It would be a wonder if it didn’t cause a panic.
So it made the most sense to have Roland go over to an uninhabited region in the northwest.
“Wouldn’t it be better to have pretty female comrades adept in psychology on the field if we want to persuade him?”
The person in charge nodded. “We did consider this. The comrades from the intelligence department above have investigated the traces of Roland’s life from his childhood to adulthood, as well as his online statements, the content of his downloads, and so on, and have formed a profile of his character.”
“This is confidential, but we all have the right and obligation to listen to it, to facilitate better cooperation with him in the future.”
The person in charge picked up a white, somewhat thick printed book in his hand, which read Analysis of Huang Wenwei’s (Roland) Character and Abilities.
“There’s a lot of content in this book.” The person in charge patted the surface of the book and laughed. “But there’s a summary at the back that everyone can listen to.”
Everyone subconsciously began to record what came next in their way.
“Comrade Huang is, first of all, a Han Chinese with a few ethnic tendencies, but of course it is not serious and doesn’t make him hostile to other ethnicities, or other races of color. His character is more rational and modest, and he acts like a normal person. As we all know, there is no completely normal person in this world, only those relatively normal. Because no one would dare to define what kind of character and data a completely normal person should have.”
The crowd laughed.
What was a normal person? One in line with society’s current standards, who held the general values of the entire country’s population, was considered a normal person.
However, society changed constantly.
The common views of the population would have changed in society ten years ago and ten years from now.
So there was only “relatively normal,” a general range, no completely normal person.
“In terms of hobbies, he likes to play games and read novels, in line with the interests of most teenagers,” said the person in charge, his expression looking a bit amused. “The comrades of the intelligence department also tracked the number of Japanese romance motion pictures he browsed online and downloaded in these recent years.” There was a boisterous burst of laughter below.
The person in charge also flattened his mouth to stifle a laugh and continued after a while, “His top three most downloaded action stars are as follows; XZMLY, WTL, and LZLL. They have one common trait, a particularly majestic secondary sexual characteristic.”
There was another burst of laughter below.
One researcher, who often watched the livestreams, shouted, “We knew this already, it’s no secret that Roland likes married women with large bosoms.”
The researchers laughed even more.
“This is only partially right; Roland only likes majestic secondary sexual characteristics, human wives just happen to hit the spot. The queen that you game geeks always mention, she just happens to be someone else’s wife.”
Some of the people in the conference room were laughing so hard that they couldn’t stand up, and some of their eyes were even bulging out.
The person in charge stopped for a long time as he was also holding his laughter. It couldn’t be helped. As a leader, if he laughed aloud on the podium, it would be bad for his image!
After waiting for a while, he said seriously. “And therein lies the problem.”
Everyone also immediately stopped laughing and became serious.
“The people from above originally wanted to send down a few female comrades with good figures that fit comrade Huang’s aesthetic and who were good at psychology to help, as well as observe and assist comrade Huang’s mental state so that he could experiment and grow more relaxed.” The leader sighed. “But after choosing repeatedly, we ended up finding the sad fact that none of our candidates fit the bill. All of them were too slim and lacked large bosoms.”
The person in charge stopped talking and the corners of his mouth were twitching, in a state where he wanted to laugh but couldn’t.
The others were not so concerned.
The conference room erupted in another fit of laughter.
After laughing, one of the nerdier researchers called out, “Leader, that’s not quite right. At least, I’ve met several psychologists who are exceptionally fit and quite pretty.” “There are some, but they are either not high enough in rank or their political composition is not up to scratch. Comrade Huang’s secrecy level has been raised and the previous selection conditions no longer apply,” the person in charge explained helplessly, “so the higher-ups are in quite a difficult position right now. They told us to find our own way to cooperate with comrade Huang’s job first, and they will send a suitable psychologist over as soon as possible.”
The people in the meeting room understood what the person in charge meant.
It was to find a way to get along with Roland.
To have him feel the warmth of a family and make communicating easier in the future.
This wasn’t difficult. Although the researchers weren’t good at picking up girls, they were good at building good relationships with men.
It was quite simple; as long as they talked about games, porn, and politics, they’d become good friends.
This was quite straightforward.
Roland was unaware that he was being studied from head to toe.
In the game, it was already the early morning of the next day.
This town was too small to have an organization like the Guild of Mercenaries or Guild of Rogues that could be responsible for intelligence.
That didn’t mean, however, that there weren’t intelligence dealers here.
As usual, Roland found the largest tavern in town, found the bartender, put a silver coin in front of him, and said, “I want to know who has the most intelligence in this small town.”
The bartender took in the silver coin and said rather cheerfully, “Old Beckrum, of course. He’s the oldest fellow in our town and he’s quite strong. He knows almost everything that goes on in the town.”
“Are there others?” asked Roland.
Beckrum wasn’t in town these days; as a guide, he had to go outside and pick up work.
Roland found him in another big city.
That was three days ago.
Out of town, Beckrum surely wouldn’t be aware of the magic aura lingering in the loess for only about three or four days.
“Then Polisila of the magic potion shop.” The bartender thought about it and said, “She likes to gather information about other people’s homes, and would probably know a lot of things that ordinary people don’t know.”
“How do I find her?”
“West of town, the tallest little whitewashed building. It’s currently the time she sells medicine; she should be home.”
“So have there been any other strange people in town lately?”
The bartender looked at Roland steadily.
All right… Am I the only stranger that’s come?
Roland left the tavern and found the white building on the west side of town.
There was indeed a woman inside who was working with her back to the door.
There was a wooden sign on the door that looked new, so it was probably replaced not long ago. The sign read: Town West Magic Potions.
Magic potions?
Alchemical potions?
When Roland walked in, he caught the strong scent of herbs.
“May I ask what you need…” The woman inside, who was busy with her back to Roland, turned around at the sound of the voice and immediately stammered when she saw Roland’s attire. “This Mage, sir, may I… ask what you… need?”
There were no magic potions in this world. They were all properly known as alchemical potions.
The people who generally called alchemical potions magic potions were a reverent, ill-informed, and less cultured group of people who didn’t know much about magic.
Polisila was aware of alchemical potions, but she was in the business of farmers and peasants in this remote little town, so of course, she had to cater to the market and call alchemical potions magic potions.
Roland walked up to the counter and looked at the several potions that were on display with some surprise.
Agility potion, strength potion, dispel disease potion, and so on.
Though they were all lower-level potions and were presumably not very effective, as they contained little magic power…
They were indeed complete potions, not fakes, and the formulas were correct.
The reason for the low quality was because the woman had so little magic power in her
Less than one percent of Roland’s.
It was already impressive to be able to weave the disordered magic power into the potions. It would be too much to ask for a refined amount and an abundance of magic power.
“Nice job on the potions! You used to be a magic apprentice?” asked Roland, looking at the woman.
“Yes, sir.” The woman composed herself as she bent down and dared not look at Roland. “I became a magic apprentice at the age of fifteen, but because of my lack of talent, I never became an official Mage. I was thrown out of the Magic Tower at twenty-seven, and now I can only make potions for a living”
“I came to ask you about something.” “Please go ahead, sir. If it’s something I know, I won’t hide it.”
Most magic apprentices, even if they couldn’t become an official Mage, would still be fanatical about the profession of Mages.
Even more fanatical than the average person.
Because they were in the state of thinking they could touch it, but “not quite yet.”
It was this state that made them quite fanatical about their goals, always thinking that if they tried one more time, they would be able to succeed.
ie INO
With this fanaticism, they had a kind of inferiority complex and reverential admiration for the true Mages.
Just like a conniving b*tch who kept the simps hanging, the latter would always think that they were on the verge of success and just needed to work a little harder.
Then they would be nicer and nicer to the b**ch.
“Do you know what unusual things have been happening in town lately, especially in connection with that particular yellow mud patch on the east side of town?”
Polisila immediately looked excited. “I knew something was wrong with that place! Sir, three days ago, I was at home and felt an extra strange magic power in the town, and I gathered the courage to go over and take a look, and guess what I found?”
“Go ahead.” Roland placed a silver coin on the table.
Polisila didn’t take it as she said excitedly, “I saw an elf! A naked elf.”
Roland: Huh?
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