Raiden Ryoma’s imprisonment was a necessity; the continuation of the subsequent plot depended on it.
However, Li Mu couldn’t lose his current identity as Ryoma, the President of MEI Corp.
That was crucial for the construction of MEI Corp, the development of St.
Freya, and resolving the Third Great Honkai Eruption.
Faced with this choice, Li Mu’s answer was, naturally, to choose both.
“I can’t lose the identity of MEI Corp’s President, but Raiden Ryoma must also go to prison.” As for how to do it?
He would, of course, continue to serve as the president of MEI Corp under the identity of Ryoma, while simultaneously throwing the real Ryoma into prison to complete the story check-in.
A perfect, win-win solution.
But since he had borrowed Ryoma’s identity, he naturally had to offer some compensation…
on the condition that Ryoma could completely reform himself and become an upstanding young man.
Before that…
he would just have to continue his re-education in prison.
Although it was all prison, the treatment in different prisons varied drastically.
The type of prison Ryoma would be moving into next depended entirely on how much he had changed during these two months on the African plantation.
If he had truly kicked his gambling and drinking habits, Li Mu wouldn’t mind arranging a prison for him that was comparable to a holiday resort.
Conversely, if he remained stubbornly unrepentant, Li Mu wouldn’t mind tossing him into a harsh prison to go dropping the soap!
“But still, he’s been picking bananas on an African plantation for two months.
After experiencing such a harsh beating from life, he must have improved somewhat, right?” As a character with a certain degree of plot relevance, Li Mu still hoped Ryoma could become a normal person.
That would be helpful for advancing the story later on.
As he thought this, Li Mu took out his communicator and sent a message to his other good friend, who was currently verifying some things far away on the African continent.
[Mu: Teacher V, the plan is moving to the next stage.
Send Ryoma back.] —o— Have you ever heard of a game like this?
It has no pay-to-win mechanics, no power creep, and no convoluted payment options.
The benefits are incredible.
You get one hundred free pulls right after logging in for the first time.
You get another hundred pulls each in the morning, afternoon, and evening without even needing to check in.
And if you fail to complete your daily tasks, not only is there no penalty, but you are also rewarded with another hundred pulls.
At this point, some of you might be asking.
Bro, bro, does such a generous game really exist?
And where can one play a game this amazing?
Yes, my friend, it exists.
Right here, on the limited-time rerun of the America Classic Server.
Africa.
Ethiopia.
In a newly developed plantation.
CRACK!
FWOOSH!!!
“AAGH!
AAAAAAGH!!!” Two Black men cracked their whips with resounding snaps, lashing them against the body of Ryoma, who was tied to a tree trunk.
Listening to Ryoma’s hysterical wails, one of the men frowned.
With a hint of pity, he said to his companion beside him: “Brother, should we go a little easier?
We don’t want to actually kill the guy.” The other man said nothing, merely putting more force into his next lash, drawing another series of agonized screams from Ryoma.
Only after that strike did he speak to his companion, his tone full of dissatisfaction.
“This guy not only slacks off on his work every chance he gets, but he even tries to get the other workers in the camp to gamble.
He’s already corrupted the simple, honest lads who came here from the tribe!
To be honest, I’ve been wanting to whip him for a long time!” “But we can’t beat him to death…” “He won’t die.
Ms.
V gave us these whips.
They hurt like hell but don’t cause any real injury.” “Besides, Ms.
V specifically instructed us not to hold back.
You think you’re smarter than Ms.
V?” Hearing the words ‘Ms.
V’, the hesitation on the first man’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a kind of reverence mixed with awe.
After that, neither of them held back, lashing Ryoma with all their might.
Soon, Ryoma, having failed his morning check-in, received his reward of one hundred pulls.
Once the two men untied him, Ryoma collapsed to the ground, moaning in pain.
He was long experienced with this.
Although the whip left no marks, the pain would linger for at least three days.
Feeling the fiery sting all over his body, hot tears streamed from his eyes.
A man of no small stature was now crying as helplessly as a child.
“When will these days ever end…
Mei, Daddy misses you so much!” Ever since that woman calling herself the Faded Elf had dumped him on the African continent, he had been doing the work of a beast of burden on this strange plantation.
The owner of this plantation was called ‘Ms.
V’, and she gave him special ‘care’.
At least, besides himself, he had never seen anyone else get whipped.
It was as if he was the only one stuck on this limited-time rerun of a classic server.
Ryoma vaguely sensed that this was all targeted at him.
He had just felt an itch in his hands and wanted to have a small gamble with the other workers to cultivate his spirit, and he ended up tied to a tree and brutally whipped.
How could this Ms.
V be so cruel!
Besides, he was a scientist!
Couldn’t the knowledge in his head create far more value?
Why was he being used like a beast of burden?
Ryoma didn’t understand, but he felt that his future was pitch black.
However, if there were any benefits to being here, he supposed there were some.
He was actually in much better spirits than when he had first arrived.
His body, which had become gaunt from alcoholism, had even become quite sturdy.
After all, on this plantation, he was exhausted both physically and mentally after a full day of picking bananas.
There was no opportunity to gamble or drink, so he could only collapse into bed at a set time.
With such a regular schedule and three square meals a day, even with the heavy labor, he had bulked up considerably in two months.
Even his vigor and spirit were completely different, bearing none of his former haggardness.
Feeling the pain in his body, Ryoma knew from experience that for the next half an hour after a beating, no one would come to bother him.
After a morning of hard labor followed by a vicious whipping, a wave of weariness washed over him.
Soon, his consciousness began to blur.
Vaguely, he seemed to hear an ethereal voice.
“Will you gamble again in the future?” Ryoma hesitated for a moment, but spurred on by the lingering pain in his body, he subconsciously answered: “No, I won’t.
I won’t gamble anymore.” “Will you be a good, responsible father in the future?” This time, Ryoma didn’t hesitate.
He answered immediately: “I will definitely be a good role model and make Mei proud of me!” —o— In his sleep, Ryoma felt someone shaking him.
He groggily opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a set of pearly white teeth, followed by the dark face behind them.
Seeing Ryoma awake, the Black man said, “Bro, you’re awake?” Hearing this, Ryoma’s body trembled, and he shot to his feet.
“I wasn’t slacking off!
I’ll get back to work right now!
Don’t whip me!” He recognized this man as one of the plantation’s supervisors, who had whipped him on many occasions.
But this man, who was usually fierce and menacing, now wore a surprisingly gentle expression and was carrying a briefcase.
Seeing Ryoma awake, he reached into the briefcase.
But what he pulled out was not the whip that made Ryoma’s heart leap into his throat, but a sealed document folder.
“Mr.
Ryoma, although our time together has not been entirely pleasant, I must regretfully inform you that you have been optimized.” Ryoma stared at the folder he was being handed, his expression shifting from surprise to utter confusion.
“Huh?” “Inside is your salary for the past two months, as well as your severance pay.” Seeing the blank look on Ryoma’s face, the man explained: “We’ve purchased engineering robots specifically designed for picking bananas from MEI Corp.
They only need sunlight to operate.” “The remaining staff are undergoing technical retraining, and some have been transferred to our new banana by-product company.
We just don’t need this many people anymore.” “So, I regret to inform you, you’re fired.” “This is your pay.
We are a proper, conscientious enterprise.
We won’t short you a single cent.” Hearing this, Ryoma’s body shuddered once, then again.
He pointed at his own face in disbelief.
“I can leave?” At Ryoma’s repeated question, the man with the briefcase began to look impatient.
“If you don’t want to leave, you can stay on.
Learn to operate and maintain the machinery.
But there’s no salary during the training period, though room and board are provided.” “NO!
NO, NO!!
I’m leaving!
I’m leaving right now!!!” —o— It wasn’t until he was outside the plantation, feeling the thick envelope in his hand, that Ryoma was certain he wasn’t dreaming.
He thought of the clanging pachinko parlors on the streets of Nagazora City.
He thought of his gentle, caring daughter, and the happy little home he had missed so dearly in his dreams.
As these thoughts filled his mind, tears began to stream down Ryoma’s face.
He wiped them away, his voice choked with sobs.
“The good days…
they’re finally coming back.” —o—