Killing is easy, but employing people is difficult.
This was a phrase that Lia had felt quite deeply throughout her many years as the Demon Queen.
Violence could indeed bring power, but for that power to penetrate the grassroots, it required a dense network of administrative nodes to act as “synapses.”
These synapses transmitted orders from the center downward and executed tasks passed through the layers of authority.
Once the bureaucratic system composed of these nodes began to experience problems, it often resembled a person suffering from a neurological disorder.
Movements became slow, perception grew dull, and hallucinations or deceptions even began to occur.
Under the concealment of these “corrupt nerves,” a person would gradually fail to notice diseases in their limbs or internal organs.
Eventually, they wouldn’t even realize the flesh had rotted through.
To these “synapses,” they certainly lacked the ability to revolt against the center.
However, they had plenty of ways to ensure the center’s orders remained unexecuted.
Stalling programs, over-expansion of scope, procrastination tactics, adding unnecessary layers of complexity, outward obedience with inward defiance, nurturing enemies to increase their own importance, keeping only one eye open…
These were exactly the kinds of sneaky, subtle tricks the Hero was currently encountering.
Bounties were intentionally left unmentioned or withheld, causing the soldiers to drag their feet and lose motivation, leading to slow mobilizations.
When the Hero urged them on, his requests were transformed into whips of downward pressure.
Ultimately, the soldiers were left full of grievances, hating both the Hero and the disaster victims they were supposed to save.
With hearts full of resentment, it was only natural that their attitudes were poor.
It became common for them to take their anger out on the victims they had just rescued.
Suggestions became emphases; emphases became strict enforcement; strict enforcement became unscrupulous, doubled execution.
All quotas were doubled, and if anyone asked, the excuse was that they were “leaving a margin for the task.”
The various units of the City Guard sent out were driven into a state of panic by these harsh quotas.
Some even went so far as to claim credit for false deeds, intentionally placing rescued victims in areas prone to flooding just to “save” them a second time.
When the Hero issued a criticism, by the time it reached the lower levels, it was expanded into a criticism of the entire group.
They specifically targeted the rare, enthusiastic contributors in the ranks, pouring cold water on those who actually did the work to “make an example” of them.
This left everyone else disheartened and unwilling to exert any effort.
The young City Guards, who had originally followed the Hero with hot blood and a desire to do good, gradually lost their passion under the constant lashing, criticism, and the shirking of responsibility by their colleagues.
They became numb, eventually choosing to simply go with the flow.
Jon had worked hard for most of the day, but in the end, his efforts yielded little result.
Fortunately, he had the residents of Hope Town and the Imperial Guard to serve as his eyes, preventing him from being blinded.
At the very least, he knew the entire “disaster relief” effort was gradually souring and was far from reaching his expectations.
He didn’t lose himself in the false illusion that “everything was flourishing.”
Listening to the reports from the townspeople, Jon knit his brows tightly.
He couldn’t understand why this was happening at all.
How could something as wonderful as disaster relief turn into such a mess?
Lia was sprawled on a small table nearby, holding a copy of A General History of the Empire, Volume 13 that Jon had borrowed from a local noble.
Her slender legs, outlined in white silk, swung rhythmically.
They were like willow branches teased by a spring breeze, or the tip of a white cat’s tail swaying leisurely, beating a comfortable tempo.
Her mind wasn’t on the book; she was also listening to the reports.
By now, she was absolutely certain—there was some monster playing a long-distance game of political maneuvering against them!
‘Hmph…’
‘You’re only bullying me because my foundation is still shallow and my core subordinates are gone.’
Although many extraordinary people emerged from the Demon Realm and the local customs were “purely toxic,” Lia had still managed to cultivate some “trusted aides” who were loyal to her.
However, their numbers were small, and because of the succubus’s false intelligence, they had charged straight into the main imperial force led by the Hero.
They had been wiped out in a single stroke.
If her core team were still around, she could have placed her well-trained soldiers into the City Guard, replacing the old with the new.
Unfortunately, she was now a “lone wolf,” just like the Hero.
‘Dealing with the Hero is one thing.’
‘But you should never, ever have hindered the grand plan for our Pu Group’s development!’
The victims were the cheap laborers she had her eye on.
This opponent actually dared to cross her? They truly didn’t know the meaning of death! Weren’t they afraid she would flip the table and use her ultimate move?
However, the priority now was to figure out who this monster playing against her was and exactly what their goal was.
“Friend~ Friend~”
Lia hopped up, closing the heavy book cover that was almost larger than she was.
She jumped onto Jon’s chest and gently tugged open his collar, which he had intentionally left unbuttoned.
She burrowed inside like someone rushing back under the covers in the dead of winter, letting out a comfortable, soft murmur.
“What is it, Lili?”
Jon looked down at his little pet.
A trace of a smile finally appeared on his exhausted, tense face.
“Lili made another 100 Pu Boats for Friend! Let’s take Mayor Jonathan and 100 townspeople to Lili’s home to pick up the goods!”
“That’s wonderful, Lili. This time, I’m really relying on you…”
Jon gave a bitter smile, hesitant to say more.
A few seconds later, he looked puzzled. “Wait… Lili’s home?”
“Mhm!”
Lia revealed the existence of the Pu Group with casual ease.
“Lili has many Pupu friends now. The town couldn’t hold them anymore, so Lili built a Pupu town near the river.”
“Pupu have their own town?”
Jon’s curiosity was piqued.
He had only seen Pupu Farms, where Pupu were usually stuffed into large clay jars and grew naturally with daily water.
The main work of those farms was to facilitate the Pupu’s mating to produce offspring.
“It’s just Lili’s selfishness. From now on, humans and Pupu have to get along well, okay?” the pink girl said in an innocent, soft voice.
‘At the very least, don’t use my Pu Queen as a toy, or else the Empire is about to see its first batch of eunuchs!’
Lia thought viciously to herself.
“Yes. Definitely,” Jon agreed warmly, gently scratching Lia’s head.
The location where Lia had established the Pu Group base wasn’t far from the temporary command post.
Soon, Jon was riding the dragon of his friend from the Imperial Guard, flying over Pu Town with Jonathan and the townspeople.
Looking down, Jon was shocked by the spectacular and orderly scene.
Unlike human towns with their large clusters of raised houses, Pu Town consisted of one sunken pool after another.
As far as the eye could see, dense, multi-colored, round Pupu were swimming in the pools, hydrating themselves to their hearts’ content.
They were so comfortable that their normally dull, black-pearl eyes had curved into “^^” shapes.
Crisscrossing trenches had been dug between the pools and between the flooded river, ensuring that fresh water flowed through them.
‘How did a bunch of Pupu dig out these pools…’
Just as the doubt surfaced in Jon’s mind, he saw four or five magical machines composed of Pupu working hard in the dirt.
They were very similar to the “Pu Car” Lia had created before, but the front extended a tall, simple, suspended “arm” with a flexible bucket at the end.
The bucket dug out the mud softened by the water and tossed it to the side, where it was carried away by a long string of Pupu.
“It looks a lot like it,” Rocky suddenly chuckled.
“Like what?” Jon asked curiously.
“A bathhouse,” Rocky said with a grin.
Lia, who had been feeling proud of her thriving Pu Town, suddenly felt her face darken.
She didn’t feel quite so proud anymore.
Perhaps it was the psychological suggestion, but the more she looked, the more it really did resemble a giant public bathhouse.
The floating Pupu looked just like little rubber ducks in a tub.
Fine… if it’s a bathhouse, it’s a bathhouse.
To the Pupu, ordinary human buildings that blocked wind and rain were meaningless.
Pupu weren’t afraid of cold snaps or storms; on the contrary, they were terrified of drought and lack of water.
Therefore, a bathhouse was the Pupu’s collective dormitory, and a hot spring was a Pupu’s luxury villa—it was perfectly logical!
In that case, the theoretical “high-rise” buildings of the Pupu race should be built from the surface down into the ground, which was the exact opposite of human architectural logic.
Lia suddenly realized: perhaps the Pupu could integrate seamlessly into human society, achieving a “harmonious symbiosis” of sorts.