Chapter 282

Chapter 282: Poverty Alleviation?

Over the following days,

Lin Yu maintained watch over this human settlement through her daughters’ perspectives.

After initial disciplinary actions against rebellious humans and several days of imprisonment, the townsfolk became considerably more compliant.

While verbal dissent against the ant-folk persisted, physical resistance had ceased entirely.

Yet as invaders, the ant tribe faced inevitable resentment from humans who concealed their aversion to these sudden monster inhabitants beneath surface compliance.

To consolidate control over Aowenduo Town, reshaping human perceptions of the ant tribe became imperative.

First – dispelling the man-eating stereotype!

Those imprisoned in ant tunnels days prior were returned intact to their families.

See? Unharmed.

Not only uneaten, but even fed prison rations.

Prison food?

Nothing palatable certainly – no chicken soup or delicacies.

Just magically cultivated wild vegetables and grains from the Magical Soil.

Yet several prisoners devoured this fare voraciously.

The premature winter had devastated this year’s harvest, leaving food supplies dangerously low.

These ravenous eaters likely came from impoverished households – pitiful indeed.

Next came compensation for affected residents.

Those whose homes sustained damage from emerging ant tunnels received reparations.

Fair’s fair – damaged property demands compensation. I always play by reason.

The compensation? Random provisions of food and monster materials – edible sustenance and marketable resources. Calculated quantities ensured adequate coverage for structural damages.

Perhaps even excessive generosity.

Recipients’ stunned reactions and neighbors’ envious glances confirmed this.

Relocation beneficiaries? The concept feels strangely familiar.

One particular mother-daughter pair moved to tears caught my attention.

Their poverty manifested clearly – shivering in threadbare garments despite bitter cold, dwelling in a cramped yet barren home with four bare walls.

Compelled by pity, I granted them extra supplies.

Really! Shouldn’t Simon handle welfare matters? Wait… Doesn’t Aowenduo Town belong to me now? Then poverty relief does fall under my jurisdiction.

Action followed thought.

My daughters distributed sufficient winter provisions and clothing to impoverished families.

The slum’s disabled residents and orphans received equal consideration.

Without ant-folk intervention this winter, starvation and hypothermia would surely claim many lives.

…

After heeding Magic Rainbow’s advice, I focused on aiding orphans clad in worn, nearly ragged garments, those huddled in precarious corners of crumbling, drafty shelters.

“M-monster?! Why? Stay…stay back!”

Though his lips were chapped and pallid from cold, limbs trembling uncontrollably, the boy stubbornly shielded his younger sister—gripping a wooden stick with white-knuckled resolve, poised to confront the Ant Clan.

Such mettle could be deemed acceptable.

Thus, the siblings were ushered into the anthill.

Resistance is futile. Such brats don’t even require my daughters to intervene; even I can handle you with ease!

Ah, though before leading them inside, we did offer proper explanations.

“Fear not. I’ve come to grant you liberation.”

After all, these wind-whipped hovels are scarcely fit for habitation.

“The anthill lies nearby. Once entered, you’ll never wish to leave.”

Within, sustenance flows freely, and my cherished daughters keep vigilant watch—allowing tranquil rest.

Perhaps my detached tone proved counterproductive?

Ultimately, our daughters still escorted them into the depths.

Not merely these siblings: aside from a few insolent, unsettling children, over forty orphans received succor.

Most slum-raised, enduring hand-to-mouth existences—able-bodied yet spurned by townsfolk, relegated to fleeting odd jobs when employed at all.

Yet now, enduring work awaits them.

Work as the Ant Tribe’s eyes.

Since winter demands the Clan’s covert operations, temporary human proxies must oversee surveillance.

Slum orphans serve as ideal candidates.

Well…perhaps my own softheartedness played a role.

…

Yet such minor efforts cannot shift the human race’s entrenched views.

Those not of our kin are sure to be alien in heart.

However reasonably the Ant Clan extends mercy, human perspectives won’t shift overnight.

Thus, the next step involved the emergence of the town’s heroes!

Moat Blade’s two champions weren’t devoured by the Ant Tribe—rather, returned unharmed to the town. This occurrence swiftly became the settlement’s grandest tale.

Should these heroes voice Ant Clan’s virtues, some influence may yet take root.

Twice the town’s saviors, once its sacrificial defenders… Army Lady and Stealth One hold measurable sway in human hearts.

Following the heroes’ stage came the merchants’ machinations.

Capital wields public voice as a tool, and these magnates wield it masterfully.

Building upon prior foundations, the Ant Clan—through merchantcraft—became synonymous with strength, unity, and virtue. Humans now believe the Clan’s occupation serves mutual advancement: a shared prosperity.

Truthfully, it does.

The Clan’s amassed troves—monster pelts, razor claws, provender—are sold to humans at modest rates.

Particularly grain and pelts, resources the town desperately lacks.

As days pass, public voice’s tide shifts more humans toward acceptance of their insectoid neighbors.

Vitriol against the Ant Tribe dwindles steadily.

…

Through these stratagems, the town now rests firmly within the Clan’s grasp.

Moreover, this venture’s greatest tangible prize—

An abundance of Magic Recovery Potions!

Enough to drink one and discard another!

Henceforth, consuming multiple potions needn’t worry about diminishing returns from overdosing.

Magic Value regeneration accelerates remarkably!

Where full recovery once demanded three to four days, now one or two suffice. Higher-grade potions further hasten this.

As for Magic Value’s usage… Whether channeling skills or egg-laying, both prove viable—given such rapid restoration.