Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game - Chapter 183: Undead Friends

No one could say for certain when the slums appeared outside the west gate, but it was a known fact that the slum had been expanding toward the south gate. Buildings were older and more dilapidated the closer it was to the west gate, while it was the opposite toward the south.

Johan and his father were born in the slum. When Johan was young, his grandfather, who was still alive then, told him that his own mother, Johan’s great-grandmother, had been among the earliest dwellers of the slum.

Johan’s great-grandfather was once a self-sustaining farmer in Kain Town. When nobles started buying their lands at high prices and building farms, Johan’s great-grandfather, tired of farming, sold the land and took his family to seek a living in the city of Indahl.

Johan’s grandfather had been a citizen of Indahl in his younger days. Johan’s great-grandfather used the money from selling the land to buy a house in the city and found a decent job. These were the good memories his grandfather always reminisced about and repeatedly told young Johan about.

If everything had gone well, Johan’s family might have gradually become native Indahl citizens over the generations. Unfortunately, there were no such ifs—his great-grandfather, weary of a farmer’s life but not vigilant enough for the city’s more complex and vicious environment, soon got led into gambling. Not only did he lose his job, but he also lost the house his family lived in.

Forced by the pressure to survive, Johan’s great-grandmother had no choice but to move to the “free living area” outside the city with her children. By that time, they hadn’t seen Johan’s great-grandfather for half a year… No one knew where he died.

Afterward, Johan’s father and Johan himself were born in the slums. Since birth, they saw a chaotic, crowded environment filled with trash, where strong men took pride in being gang members.

Although they also worked in the city and knew how prosperous the districts within Indahl’s walls were, they couldn’t imagine ever living in such an environment themselves.

Johan only remembered that the slums of his childhood weren’t as big. Running from the square near the mule and horse market to the south side only took five minutes in the past, but now, it was at least a 20-minute walk to cross the entire slum.

The slums were now home to thousands of families and was the size of a small town. People from one alley here didn’t even know those from another; just like how the earliest settlers at the western square rarely interacted with those toward the south gate.

The emergence of the mobile mill at the western square did attract south slum dwellers to make their way through the maze-like alleys to mill their grain. However, once the undead appeared, those people ran away… When Johan and his companions emerged from the alley, all they saw besides the undead were residents living nearby.

The main reason the residents living near the platform didn’t flee in terror was the calm demeanor of the mobile mill personnel, who were standing between the undead and the slums. Upon seeing the approaching undead, they simply glanced and continued their work, confidently reassuring those around, “Don’t be afraid, we know these undead. They’re just overly curious and won’t attack people.”

In the beginning, few believed this. Those living farther away fled quickly, and those nearby hurried home, thinking of grabbing their valuables before escaping as soon as possible.

The undead did rush over but indeed did not attack the busy mill workers. Instead, they curiously passed the mobile mill and ran into the slums to look around and touch stuff, which somewhat calmed the panicking slum dwellers.

What Johan and his companions saw was this bizarre scene—some people stood fearfully against the wall or hid in nearby wooden sheds; the undead, on the other hand, roamed dominantly around the slum, seemingly curious about everything.

One pinched the straw curtain hanging on someone’s window, making a “KABAKABA” noise from its non-existent throat, while another tried to climb onto someone’s roof, causing dry thatch to rain down.

“Hey, hey! Undead, you can’t damage the residents’ houses!” Johan saw a mill worker yelling at the undead trying to climb onto a roof.

Johan immediately felt anxious, fearing that the worker’s abrasive manner might anger the undead. However, what he saw next left Johan dumbfounded. The undead trying to climb the roof actually stopped… and it even awkwardly tried to undo its mischief like a child caught in the act, sheepishly tossing the thatch that had fallen down back onto the roof.

The realization that these undead could understand human speech somewhat relieved Johan and all the locals; their hearts, which had been in their throats, returned to their rightful places.

Then, the curious undead began to attempt pushing the doors of the locals’ shacks open.

“Ahh!!!” Someone hiding inside a shack screamed in terror.

A few mill workers had to leave their tasks and run into the slums, loudly calling out, “Undead friends, we’ve encountered some trouble and need your help!”

This phrase seemed to have a magical power, causing the undead who were running around causing mischief to immediately cease their actions and swarm toward the workers.

Johan and his companions: “??”

Local slum dwellers: “??”

Johan and his companions exchanged glances, leaving their fully laden carts in the alley, and nervously moved toward where the workers were.

Before these curious and concerned young men could get close, Johan saw the always kind Barton, who had encouraged him to do the milling job, emerge from the crowd of undead and happily wave at him. “Come here, Johan! Help me with something.”

Johan looked apprehensively at the undead surrounding Barton but bravely took a few steps forward. “What do you need me to do?”

“Go borrow some shovels, hoes, wheelbarrows, and other such tools.” Barton pulled out a bunch of copper coins and handed them to Johan. “This is for renting them.”

Johan was well-liked in the area and knew that Old Tom’s family often got jobs demolishing old houses in the city and had such tools. He quickly called his friends to join him in borrowing them.

A few minutes later, Johan and his companions returned with the tools loaded on a borrowed handcart.

Barton thanked Johan for his help, then turned around… and handed these tools over to the undead.

Johan and his companions: “??”

About half of the about hundred or so undead received the tools. Carrying shovels, hoisting hoes, and pushing wheelbarrows, they headed noisily toward a spot under the city walls, where there was a huge trash heap.

The other half of the undead continued to pester the mill workers with noisy “KABAKABA” sounds.

Johan and his anxious friends heard Barton and the other workers tell the undead, “Undead friends, there really aren’t any quests here for you anymore. How about heading back to camp? Lieutenant Pitt and Captain Kenn need your help.”

“There aren’t any hidden quests, really…”

“Alright… If you go down the third alley from here and then to the sixth house on the right, that’s Old Neilson’s place. His roof leaks badly; could you help us collect some materials to fix his roof, please?”

“Umm… Over there, between those houses, there’s a waterlogged crater. Could you help us fill it in…?”

Some of the undead accepted the workers’ commands and eagerly headed to the specified locations; some seemed to lose interest and left noisily to the direction of the west gate; others neither left nor were willing to do what the workers asked, continuing to roam aimlessly around the slums…

Compared to over a hundred undead running amok, having a dozen or so undead looking around didn’t seem so bad. Slum dwellers, who had been pressed against the walls or hiding in the corners, let out a sigh of relief. Those who had hidden inside their homes dared to peek out and even tentatively tried stepping outside.

Johan and his friends, who had heard and seen the mill workers commanding the undead, stood rooted to the spot, completely dumbfounded.

“What are you standing around for? Don’t you receive some milling commissions today?” Barton, having finally rid of the undead, waved at Johan and his group.

Snapping out of their daze, the young man quickly ran back to the alley and pulled their carts over.

As the four young men struggled to pull the heavy carts to the square, a few of the wandering undead actually came over to help push.

Johan, pulling the cart at the front, and his friend Tommy, pushing from behind, were both frightened by the undead’s approach but dared not refuse their help…

After getting the cart next to the mobile mill’s platform, these undead seemed to expect something in return, as they gestured to Johan and his friends while making the weird “KABAKABA” sounds.

Johan and his companions: “…”

Johan and his friends really couldn’t understand what the undead were trying to say. Thus, they could only ignore them and silently unload their goods, bag by bag, taking them to the milling machine to be processed.

The undead left in disappointment, and only then did Johan’s racing heart finally calm down.

“Brother Barton, what’s the deal with these undead?” one of them, Sanchi, asked.

Mill worker and Weisshem official, Barton, suddenly revealed a complex expression.

“Those are undead friends from Taranthan, the ones I’ve told you about before. Undead that are active in Weisshem,” said Barton. “They are kind undead willing to help people with quests, but remember, you absolutely cannot ask them for help without ‘quest authority’ and without being able to offer reputation rewards, no matter how enthusiastic these undead are.”

“Yes, this is very important to remember,” another official chimed in. “Even for us, if we reach our monthly limit for issuing ‘reputation rewards,’ we can’t instruct the undead to do anything, or there will be dire consequences.”

Anyone with a lapel badge, signifying a full-fledged clerk or official, gets a certain amount of “reputation issuance authority” to seek help from the undead when manpower was critically low or in the case of dealing with a difficulty that couldn’t be resolved easily.

However, this limit wasn’t high. For average officials like Barton, the monthly limit for issuing territory reputation to the undead was just a thousand points.

The “Mobile Mill” initiative didn’t involve much interaction with the undead, so the authority of Barton and his colleagues hadn’t been increased. It was merely to prevent the undead from troubling the residents of the slums, yet they had used up their entire monthly quota in just this short amount of time…

Johan and his young friends, who were already listed as “usable personnel” by Barton and his colleagues, understood somewhat and nodded.

They all wanted a better life, to leave the slums, and wouldn’t refuse to work with the undead—even if it meant achieving their goals by associating with them. After all, they had seen with their own eyes that these undead did not attack them or kick them around to relieve their stress.

Barton smiled at the young men while continuously operating the machine to grind the grains, asking, “Has the workers’ union interfered with your business yet?”

“Not yet,” Johan quickly replied. “But today when we went to collect the goods, some people from the union came to ask about our relationship with the mobile mill. We told them what you instructed, that you indeed came from Weisshem and seem to be associated with Lord Rex.”

“That’s good,” Barton said with a smile. “The battle will start tomorrow. Later, when you deliver the goods into the city, if the union people contact you again, try to get them to come out and meet us.”

“Alright.” Johan eagerly nodded.

Barton then looked at Sanchi, the most well-informed among the young men. “What about the street gangs?”

“They’re rarely out and about on the streets lately; they seem to be busy with something,” said Sanchi, who worked as a delivery boy at a newspaper print. “I took a detour through the tavern district today and didn’t see the likes of Big Mark and the others. If I’m not mistaken, someone has hired them, but it’s unclear who. The tavern folks don’t know either.”

Barton nodded.

The mobile mill’s mission was to investigate the grassroots organizations within the city of Indahl, with street gangs and workers’ unions being the primary targets of their investigation.

With over forty thousand workers and migrants in the southern and northern districts of Indahl, the unions, seemingly unproblematic on the surface, were actually massive leeches clinging to these workers. For example, Caroline, a girl from Weisshem who worked in a restaurant in the southern district, had to give a tenth of her monthly salary to the union or she’d lose her job.

Much less had to be said about street gangs; many gray areas of the economy had hints of street gang involvement…

Just driving away the Bartalises wasn’t enough to liberate Indahl. It wouldn’t just be the undead that would be doing the fighting.