The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

"Your Highness, I have also prepared breakfast."

"I'll eat it."

"Hmm!" Viola was so excited that she seemed to want to kick the sky. "Well, well, I know that Lady Iyana is under a lot of pressure to take care of the housekeeping of the villa alone. If possible, I would also like to share some of the burden..."

"Then you will prepare breakfast this weekend."

Viola was happy all day after hearing the princess' words. After the little maid left, she shook her head with a smile, recalling the pair of determined, strong, dark and bright eyes in the game, and it was difficult to overlap them with the girl who had just left.

"Maybe this is the best ending."

Hestia murmured, stretched, and after a quick meal of a warm bacon sandwich, she set off for the harbor.

After initially obtaining permission from the Divine Capital, she needed to immediately begin the transformation of the Yunling Province. Not only did she have to restore the prosperity of Yunding City's industry and commerce in the shortest possible time, but she also had to do her utmost to squeeze out Fran's wealth.

However, the permission of the gods alone is not enough, she must also get real support.

This support was definitely not from the traditional aristocracy represented by Adrian Hesse, nor from the iron-faced judges who maintained order like Lucas Stein, but from brave men who had real courage, insight, connections, trade routes, and the courage to sell the noose around their necks.

Goblin.

This population, which suffered much discrimination in the Old World, not only did not suffer from the butcher knife of the lords of various countries, but instead survived tenaciously and opened up new horizons in the New World and the Seven Seas Route.

One of the most important pillars that allows the Adventurer's Guild to spread across the world is the major financial groups that are linked by the Goblin families.

Hestia naturally had no intention of cooperating with those powerful vampires far overseas. Not only would they be too powerful to be eliminated, but she was also afraid that one day they would even sell the guillotine that beheaded Tianlong.

Therefore, only by supporting the local earth elves, tying their fame, wealth and sins to the empire, and deeply rooting them in the land of blood and fire, can the loyalty of the vampires be effectively cultivated.

Fengbo Port, Xiangfen Wharf.

The snow has just begun to melt, and the cotinus trees on the road have sprouted new green leaves, with pink buds on their tiny stems. Some early inflorescences have begun to bloom, curling up like downy hairs, like puffs of red clouds.

The busy streets are filled with stalls selling flower bulbs, women holding small umbrellas stroll leisurely, and men and women dressed in colorful clothes sit on the winding river bank, some playing strings, some sketching, and some strolling leisurely. The turmoil at the beginning of the year did not leave any traces of hardship on the faces of the citizens, only the poetic life rushes forward like the river.

Famous for its perfumes and flowers, Xiangfen Wharf is a romantic destination lauded by French literati and painters. Salons and exhibitions are held day and night, and the cultural sector thrives, the financial sector is bustling, and the surrounding tabloids are full of trendy and anecdotal news that resonates throughout the Yunling Coast. The Adventurer's Guild has a branch located here, and even the most uncouth ruin explorers become refined and refined in this land of birdsong and flowers.

As the carriage slowly drove through the park, Hestia saw several clusters of spiritual symbols spreading through the Witch's Book. After the Witch's Book devoured the Law Treasure, she had not yet figured out all the changes, but she could already sense the object's path attributes and the vague location of the target through the traces of spiritual symbols.

This greatly facilitated her retrieval and locking of the secret cultivator.

Some contemplation of the root of Tibet, some sensibility of the root of the spirit, and some vitality of the root of the heart.

The princess looked up and noticed that a poetry recitation was being organized on the park lawn. It sounded like a lament for suffering and a satire on the empire. She drew the curtain and turned a deaf ear to it. If she wanted to make a fuss about it, she would have to kill some people to save her.

Now is the time to make plans for peace, and Hestia is too lazy to wield the knife when the enemy is still unclear.

Leaving the park and arriving at a congested street lined with apartments, Hestia asked Clara to park the carriage at the nearest hotel and followed the address to a dark and gloomy alley. Only the end of the alley leading to the seaside had a ray of light.

Even on a sunny morning, the alley was still shrouded in an indispellable shadow.

But this is not a deserted place. Men wearing berets and jackets are guarding the entrance of the alley. They are smoking pipes and strolling back and forth as if aimlessly.

From time to time, a newsboy with an empty backpack would go in, and when he came out, his bag was full.

Hestia walked in.

"Wait a minute." The pipe-smoking man stopped the princess in an instant, "Miss, what can I do for you?"

"Why, this road is blocked?" Hestia smiled.

"It's rare to see strangers passing through here," the man pointed his thumb at the back alley, "but not everyone can pass through. Don't you understand the rules here?"

"I have information," Hestia said calmly, "If you don't want to do this deal, I'll find someone else."

"Reporter?" The man exhaled smoke from his nostrils and looked at the beautiful silver-haired girl in front of him.

She is heroic and looks like a well-educated lady, not a paparazzi.

Journalists these days can be divided into two main categories. One category is the mouthpiece and microphone of the upper class, preaching for the funders behind the scenes or attacking opposing factions.

Another type is active in the subconscious, selling information about the dead in order to uncover the truth about life and death. This type of "journalist" (⒎) wears many hats: detective, paparazzi, gang member, bard, even homeless vagrant. They specialize in homicide cases and scandals, and dare to write any article or fabricate any unofficial history. They can even recite 300 pages of the dog at the Xiangfen Hotel after giving birth to several puppies. They approach metaphysics with guaranteed quality and authenticity, and never cheat anyone.

If she were not a low-class paparazzi, this idle young lady would have another job to earn extra money - writing pornographic articles for tabloids.

This is an important means for many small newspapers to survive in the fierce competition. Upper-class writers disdain this, and lower-class illiterate people are unable to take on such a big responsibility. Those educated intellectuals who have difficulty finding suitable jobs are just right for this.

However, these contributors will not show their faces in public.

"Breaking news, what breaking news?" The man looked at the silver-haired girl suspiciously.

"Why don't I just meet your boss and find out?" Hestia asked gently. "Are you sure you want to find out?"

"..." The man was silent for a moment, feeling that it was a bit embarrassing to be wary of a little girl. Finally, he said, "Follow me."

The alley is long, and once you pass through the block of high-end apartments, you'll find a completely different scene. Behind a rusty fence lies a small, V-shaped dock, littered with garbage and filth. Surrounded by two high walls and blocked on one side by a hill, it resembles a hidden bustling city.

Young newspaper boys were walking among the fishmongers, ratmen coming out of the sewage outlet on the hill were carefully cleaning the entrails of dead fish, and young men with ferocious faces were pacing back and forth with iron rods in their hands.

The man led Hestia to a huge warehouse and nodded to the two guards.

"Is your newspaper office in a place like this?" Hestia asked.

"It's certainly not suitable for a young lady like you, but didn't you want to come?" The man said sternly, "Or are you scared and want to leave?"

"No, this place is nice, it fits my stereotype of bootleggers and illegal publishers perfectly."

Hestia said with a smile.

"Watch your words, woman. Are you here to cause trouble?" A one-eyed rat man shouted sharply, waving the scrap-like mechanical hand cannon in his hand, which was stuffed with gunpowder and tetanus parts.

"go in."

The man didn't say much. She was just a little girl. How could she rebel against the heaven?

When she opened the warehouse, Hestia was dazzled by the unique scene.

The sectors separated by baffles are arranged into workstations. Typewriters scream day and night, drawing boards and oil drums emit a pungent smell, coffee and tea are mixed with the dirty air in the toilet cubicles that has not been flushed for a long time, and the steam-rich roller printing presses are clanging outside, and newspapers choking with ink are freshly printed.

The warehouse was dim, with only a faint light coming from the ceiling lights. Editors, writers, and printmakers had to put their eyes very close to make out the blurry text on the poor quality paper.

A goblin wearing a monocle, a top hat, and a tuxedo stood in the light from the second floor. He had broad ears like wings, a soft yellow fur, and medium-length blond hair that curled down his cheeks. His exquisite earrings jingled. He had the demeanor of a gentleman and the temperament of a lady. His shrill voice was like ten nooses wrapped around his neck:

"Dudley, keep up the good work! The sales of Fangxin Evening News in Yunling have already reached 120,000 copies. If you can serialize another 100,000 words, I'll raise your annual salary to five gold shields!"

"Luwin, how much longer are you going to ponder this? Do I need to remind you over and over again that time is money? I've already told you that if you don't have material, you have to learn how to make it up. Is it that hard to write about an exiled prince of the Sun Dynasty who becomes a male prostitute to raise funds for his restoration in the New World? Is it that hard?"

The intelligent-looking secretary stepped forward and whispered, "Madam, the rumors about the Golden Ruins have already led to the deaths of 725 adventurers and the destruction of a Golden Adventure Group. If this continues, will it cause dissatisfaction within the guild?"

"What rumors? Where did these rumors come from?" the goblin was furious. "We journalists are most conscientious. My ancestors also made contributions and donated blood for the guild's development. Don't I know whether this relic is real or not? Only incompetent people would question it!"

"lady……"

"Ahem, let's not talk about that for now. Lorien, you need to go to the bathroom again?! Do you know that the journal you're in charge of has been losing money for three consecutive weeks? Why are you glaring at me? If it's not making a profit, it's losing money. Do you know how much profit you could make if your journal were used to print the 'Fangxin Evening News'?"

"Ma'am! Kroger fainted!"

"Look, look, everyone should learn from Kroger. What you are doing now is not just a job, but a great cause! Annie, remember this for Kroger. I will give him a reward at the end of the year!"

"Ma'am! Kroger isn't breathing!"

Suddenly, there was a commotion, but under the goblin's stern scolding, the voices soon died down, leaving only the printing press and typewriters still making noise, and the rustling of paper and pens.

"A bunch of idiots who only eat and do nothing!" The goblin cursed, his hands on his hips. "When I was editor-in-chief for my uncle at the Adventurer's Newspaper, I didn't get paid a cent. Stupid people with no vision deserve to be poor forever!"

"Madam, someone is looking for you."

At this time, an employee came to the goblin, bent down to keep a shorter height than the goblin, and whispered in his ear.

"Oh, isn't that news?" the goblin grinned. "Annie, remember, the criticisms from our peers are nothing to worry about. Only by being well-known enough can we survive in the fierce competition. When all our peers are gone, we will naturally step to the forefront and become the authority."

"In the empire, without the support of the Governor's Office, it would be difficult to become an authority just by bribing the police." The secretary poured a bucket of cold water on him at the right time.

"Hmph, the Empire is struggling to take care of itself. There's no such thing as a relationship that money can't buy. Sooner or later, we'll become the upper class of Yunling." The goblin clenched his small, goose-yellow fists, a relieved smile quickly breaking through his tightly pursed lips. "Now let's see which partners can provide us with inspiration..."

She was smiling when a handsome figure with silver hair came into view.

“Oh my god—” The goblin opened his mouth wide and his calves began to tremble.

"Oh my God, she is so beautiful." The secretary stared at her.

"Day after day after day..."

"Ma'am, you are a little too excited." The secretary had never seen the boss so distracted.

A handsome, silver-haired figure stepped forward, looking down at the goblin on the stage. "I presume you are Liliana Vanin, the renowned intermediary between the Adventurer's Guild and the underworld of the Cloud Ridge Coast. I found the news you wrote in the Adventurer's Daily a while ago quite interesting: 'A despicable young dragon is stealing the crown of Fran.' Could you explain it to me?"

Volume 86: Caged Bird: . Goblin's Determination

A century of decline has caused the population of Genting City to drop to less than half of its former size, but this does not prevent it from continuing to stand as a rare metropolis on the edge of the waves on the west coast.

In this huge pyramid, it is difficult for the peasants at the bottom to see the true appearance of the princess, but Liliana Vanin is not a fool who cannot recognize a dragon.

That iconic silver hair had appeared more than once in the chapel of the Invalides and was deeply imprinted in her mind.

If you want to truly join the upper class, you must have a keen political sense - for example, you must understand who holds the scepter that can call the wind and rain.

"Annie, take the others down." Liliana clenched her cute yellow fists, and the intense tension made her body heat up.

"lady……"

"This is an honored guest. I will receive him personally."

She forced a smile that was uglier than crying, and she didn't even have the courage to run away.

The secretary looked at the princess deeply, imprinted her appearance in his mind, and then asked everyone else to leave.

"Your Highness also reads the Daily Foresight?" Liliana smiled awkwardly, the horror in her eyes difficult to conceal.

She walked down from the platform, rubbing her hands carefully. Her figure of over 90 centimeters only reached the princess' waist, and when she knelt down, she looked even smaller than an ant.

Hestia looked at her with a half-smile.

Liliana's palms were already damp from the onslaught of sweat glands. She laughed dryly, "Hahaha, I didn't expect His Highness to read the newspaper published by the Adventurer's Guild. Branch President Gemiel would definitely feel honored to know about this. Hahaha..."

She lowered her voice very low, like a crow announcing a funeral at a mass grave.

Seeing that the princess remained silent, Liliana's heart pounded like a drum. She became increasingly uneasy. She pressed the mechanical button at the door, and the office door slowly opened. "It's not convenient to talk outside. Your Highness, please come in, please come in..."

Hestia walked in and was greeted by the ocean view balcony and large glass windows. She walked straight to the comfortable sofa chair and put her legs on the desk.

Although she was a goblin, Liliana had designed the room to be tall and spacious, a layout that even a human would find too spacious, as if receiving guests in such a place would make her grow three inches taller.

The moment the door closed, Liliana, who longed to be strong, fell to her knees with tears streaming down her face.

Hestia frowned slightly, "Why are you crying?"

"Wow, wow, wow! I lost my father at a young age, and I've only survived thanks to the Empire's kindness. Without the Empire, there would be no Liliana Vanin today," the goblin spoke eloquently, tears soaking the floor. "From the moment I believed in the God-Emperor, I've constantly yearned to meet the holy figure of the Heavenly Dragon and express my gratitude for the Empire's support! Now that I've met His Highness, it's as if I've seen the incarnation of the God-Emperor's universal light. Wow, wow, I've lost my composure in front of the noble Heavenly Dragon. I truly deserve death!"