Xing Chen and Theresa always had a problem: how to improve the image of the Sarkaz.
If Theresis’s plan succeeded, there would certainly be no problem in raising the nation’s status through strength.
However, this would greatly worsen the image of the Sarkaz on Terra, as they would have occupied another country’s capital.
The room for decline might seem gone, but if you squeezed, there was still some.
A poor image made it hard to guarantee that they wouldn't be ganged up on again after the power gap widened, and it could even implicate Sarkaz in other countries.
“Following the idea of increasing revenue and reducing expenditure, on one hand, we need to lower Victoria’s national image—the Tara people and the Leimbieta people will help us.”
Back at the apartment, Xing Chen organized their activities on Terra, setting aside the stories of Leimbieta and Tara.
“On the other hand, we need to improve the racial image of the Sarkaz—given that you really don’t have much to produce besides mercenaries, I think cultural and entertainment products might be a breakthrough.”
Theresa probably hadn’t seen how many people lose their minds when they idolize celebrities. Even a tiny place could be praised to the heavens.
Theresa took the two photos Xing Chen handed her. The newer one was a group photo with Red Bean at a record store in Trimounts; the older one was of Sarkaz-style fashion being sold in a clothing store.
Xing Chen didn't understand music, at most he could just imitate, but Theresa was a true Royal Weaver.
“Xing Chen, you seemed to have said before that we are only staying in Columbia temporarily, and then we still have to go to Ursus.”
“Yes, so these tasks still need to be done by a local.”
“How about we… recruit? What about the salary?”
“Just give them some, they don’t pay tuition and get free food, they should be content.”
So, after getting Xing Chen’s approval, Theresa posted an apprentice recruitment notice on Trimounts’ intercity network.
A few days later, the door to their rented apartment was knocked on.
“Who is it?” Theresa opened the door to find a dusty female Sarkaz standing outside, holding a tattered flyer in her hand.
Before the Sarkaz applicant could speak, her stomach growled.
The atmosphere immediately became awkward.
Xing Chen was also woken by the commotion outside. He sat on the bed wrapped in a quilt and, in the spirit of humanitarianism, said to Theresa, “How about we let her in first, and talk after she’s eaten?”
Theresa gave the Sarkaz applicant a simple meal of Columbia canned food. After she had eaten her fill, the applicant took out the flyer again.
“I heard… you’re recruiting Sarkaz fashion designers here… so I came to apply…”
“That’s right,” Theresa scratched her head, “but I need to say upfront, we don’t have a salary here, only food and lodging.”
“Phew… that’s enough,” hearing the affirmative reply, the female Sarkaz breathed a sigh of relief, “My name is Klonny, and I’m from Kazdel.”
Klonny? That name sounds familiar. Do I have such an operator?
Theresa didn't pay much attention. She took Klonny’s hand and observed it carefully.
Her whole body was dusty, but her hands were surprisingly clean. Most importantly, she saw several needle marks, which indicated that Klonny had worked as a tailor before.
“I am also from Kazdel,” Theresa smiled at Klonny, asking her in a gentle tone, “Have you been making a living in Columbia all this time?”
“No, I just came back from Ursus a while ago, and I don’t have any money left.”
“Ursus? Not only do they discriminate against Sarkaz there, but they also implement extreme policies against the Infected—how did you survive?”
“I borrowed the name of a Columbia brand. Some of the culture here is still very popular in Ursus.”
After listening, Theresa turned to look at Xing Chen, who made a “trust me” gesture.
There are many people with strange backgrounds on Terra, but the largest number are ordinary people.
Since Klonny was fine, Theresa agreed to let her stay.
The poor Sarkaz tailor didn’t have much luggage, so Xing Chen had to prepare some for her.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Theresa stopped Xing Chen, who was about to go out, then rummaged through the cabinet for the fabric she had bought earlier, “You sew yourself a set of bedding first, let me see your craftsmanship.”
Klonny nodded, threading the needle and sewing in one smooth motion. Soon, a quilt was sewn.
Theresa inspected the seams; they were well-done, with no obvious loose threads. Her craftsmanship was far superior to those in Kazdel who only knew how to stitch fabric together.
Since she had the basics, they could start right away.
Xing Chen had a few high school classmates who didn’t do well on their exams and went to study fashion design.
According to their drunken bragging at parties, their designs basically had two orientations: designer-oriented and consumer-oriented.
The two orientations are easy to distinguish: if you don’t understand it and need someone to tell you a story, it’s designer-oriented. If you look at it and immediately feel comfortable, it’s consumer-oriented.
Xing Chen and Theresa had no fame, and they were Sarkaz, so Columbians probably wouldn’t have the patience to sit down and listen to their stories.
The only option for the two of them was to design according to the preferences of Columbians.
“Can’t we design according to our own preferences?” Klonny was a little disappointed.
“Once you gain fame, you can try, but for now, let’s learn from others how to make a name for ourselves.” Theresa took some references from Xing Chen, and her brows furrowed, “Xing Chen, these are all stereotypes of the Sarkaz…”
“I know,” Xing Chen also didn’t have a good solution; their identity card was Sarkaz, and they needed people to immediately recognize it, “Besides this, you also need to incorporate styles that other immigrant groups like.”
Xing Chen brought out a few more photos, showing several immigrant groups he had researched. He felt that the most promising ones to win over were the Liberi and the Caprini.
After a brief moment of thought, Theresa had an idea; more accurately, she remembered her good friend.
“Klonny, have you ever made clothing for banshees?”
“No, Ms. Theresa. Didn’t the Banshee Royal Court move out of Kazdel two hundred years ago?”
“Speaking of which, didn’t all the Cyclops also move to northern Sami? I remember there are still Cyclops in Kazdel, so there isn’t even one banshee?”
“Xing Chen, you might not know, the Banshee Royal Court has a Lord of the Royal Court…”
“I know, the Lord of the Royal Court of the Cyclops plucked out his own eye.”
Klonny watched Theresa argue with an outsider about Sarkaz history that she herself didn’t know, unsure how to interject.
The discussion about Sarkaz history quickly ended, with Theresa successfully making Xing Chen shut up.
“Alright, let’s start working.”