Chapter 600 - 366: Another Charming Moment for Journalism

Chapter 600: Chapter 366: Another Charming Moment for Journalism

Figxin was not a fan of propaganda work.

In her view, it was a job that was all talk and no action.

Perhaps it was because she had spent so many years in the barren Northern Domain, but pragmatism had become her guiding principle.

It was inevitable that she’d be prejudiced against a job like propaganda, which lacked "direct" practical applications.

But Zog brushed all that aside.

Anyone trying to overthrow the old Royal Family had to run a propaganda campaign.

It wasn’t enough to simply be an Army of Justice; you had to let the whole world know. That was the only way to be truly legitimate.

"Cheer up. Smile for the camera. Opportunities to be filmed under my direction are rare," Zog said, trying to motivate his "actress" as he looked at Figxin’s dead-eyed expression.

But Figxin remained completely unmoved, standing stiff as a board as the makeup artist worked on her. "I’ve never enjoyed being filmed."

As a Princess, she rarely even wore makeup, let alone the full face required for the camera.

The only good news was that she wouldn’t have to wear one of those complicated gowns. Her established persona was that of a capable and tough leader, so she would appear in Light Armor for the propaganda pieces.

She despised those gowns that cinched your waist so tight you could barely breathe.

"There are still so many things that need my attention in the city. I don’t have time to waste on this."

She was scrambling for a valid excuse not to film. She always felt awkward with a camera pointed at her. Plus, her voice sounded different on camera than it did to her own ears, which was doubly embarrassing.

"The Beastmen are handling construction, and your second-in-command can manage the city’s defenses. You have the time," Zog said, immediately shutting down her excuse. "Besides, your public image is just as important as construction and defense. Here, take the script."

"There’s a script?"

Figxin took the script in surprise.

"Of course. Memorize the lines. The rest is up to your acting skills. I’m sure someone with your noble upbringing won’t be a bad actress."

Figxin had a feeling Zog was being sarcastic, but she had no proof.

She flipped through the script. It wasn’t one continuous narrative, but a series of separate scenes.

For example: The Northern Legion helps Delong Castle’s residents repair their homes. Figxin inspects the work on-site and reminds people to be careful;

Figxin experiences a day in the life of a Delong Castle Stone Gatherer and delivers an important speech on improving their working conditions, pointing out that masks are essential for protecting their health and that all Stone Gatherers will be able to receive free masks regularly;

Figxin visits the children at an orphanage and proposes that the orphanage will be run by the state as part of a social welfare program, declaring that "the children are our future";

Figxin personally hands out free meals to the people, which are available to anyone without a job;

Figxin checks on the welfare of all prisoners of war...

And so on, a whole series of scenes like these.

Figxin was dumbfounded. "This... this... isn’t this all just fake?"

"Sigh. How can you call this fake?" Zog said earnestly. "You’ll actually be doing all these things, and we’ll just be filming it."

"But doesn’t that mean we’re only doing them for the sake of propaganda?"

In her mind, even though these were all good deeds, doing them for this reason tainted them. ’Good intentions should be pure.’

"First off, have you ever heard the saying ’judge deeds, not intentions’? Second, it’s not like we haven’t been doing these things. We’re already doing them. We’re just filming you, our public face, doing a summary of them."

Just as Zog said, various construction projects were rapidly progressing inside Delong Castle, just like in the Northern Domain back then.

Figxin’s reputation had already grown to the point where people were displaying her portrait in their homes.

The commoners might not fully grasp the disputes within the Royal Family or the complex backdrop of the war, but they understood one thing very clearly: which Lord treated them well.

After the Northern Legion arrived, life got better day by day. As for Medellin, buried under the rubble, he was immediately forgotten, with few people missing him.

Figxin was beginning to understand the purpose of this propaganda. It was like how so many historical figures, when raising an army, had to invent some kind of "miraculous" backstory for themselves.

Things like dreaming of Deities, cryptic prophecies, strange celestial phenomena at their birth, or seeing magical creatures in their youth.

It was all done to make their uprising sound more legitimate.

In comparison, the propaganda Zog planned was much more practical than those traditional methods.

Those methods exploited people’s reverence, or even fear. But Zog’s approach, at least, was about genuinely standing with the common people.

And the common people would choose her for it.

However, this "high popularity" was also precisely what caused a few problems for the film crew.

To get a free meal handed out by Figxin herself, the stall she was manning was swarmed by an unprecedentedly long line. Staff repeatedly tried to tell people they could get the same meal at other stalls, but it was no use.

Plenty of people who already had jobs also snuck into the line, just for a chance to see this unique new Lord up close.

This slowed down filming so much that a shoot planned for half a day dragged on late into the night.

Zog’s post-production team, however, demonstrated astounding efficiency.

By afternoon, they had already edited the morning’s footage into a finished piece, getting it on the air for the evening news broadcast and simultaneously uploading it to online platforms.

Unbelievable.

’It’s like these post-production guys have endless energy.’

Back at her quarters, she found that thanks to the hard work of the Beastman construction crews, over half of the Northern Legion had been moved into houses. They were simple, but it was far better than sleeping on the streets.