Pests They May Be, but Packed with Treasure

Devil moths. One of the wasteland's deadly, high-risk mutant species. Although an individual specimen was not exceptionally formidable in direct combat—a Gnawer might well fight one to a standstill—if ranked by threat level, even a Crawler would have to yield the floor. Hazard rating: Class B or higher! These creatures usually lived in colonies. Their larvae fed on spirit leaves, while adults were omnivorous with a strong preference for meat. The larvae possessed zero combat capability, but the adults had razor-sharp mouthparts paired with terrifying bite force! Rumor had it that the strongest Devil Moth Queens in a colony could even tear through steel. As for ordinary devil moths, biting through several layers of body armor was child's play. Of course, not every nest produced a Devil Moth Queen, just as not every brood of split-claw crabs had an Empress. Even so, they were dangerous enough. Interestingly, while these mutants were essentially pests, they were not entirely useless. For example, devil moth larvae secreted a silk called "devil silk" to spin their cocoons. Supposedly, this devil silk had tremendous tensile strength—exceeding even certain high-molecular biopolymers—and was remarkably lightweight, making it an ideal material for high-grade protective gear. Not only was it popular among wastelander mercenaries and caravan guards, but it was also highly sought after by the high society of Boulder City. Yet these mutants were not common; their environmental requirements were even stricter than those of mutant leeches. First, they required ample light and heat. Second, their larvae had to feed on spirit leaves, without which the colony could not reproduce at all. As for spirit leaf, it was said to be useful for making a mildly addictive stimulant, and simply brewing it into tea offered a refreshing, mind-clearing effect far superior to ordinary coffee or tea. Why would an abandoned greenhouse ruin have something like spirit leaves? That was what Chu Guang found most baffling. Judging from the forum description posted by Brother Makka Pakka, they had encountered quite a large number of devil moths in the greenhouse... Makka Pakka: "Fuck! You guys can't imagine how unlucky I was! Brother Edge and I were planning to check out the greenhouse ruins to see if there was anything good to salvage, but the second we went in, moths pounced on us and started chewing!" Ye Shi: "Face-checking bushes, nice. Always reminds me of someone. (Funny face)" Yaya: "Hahahahaha! This guy has died twice! Noob! Scrub! Hahahahaha! o(＊≧▽≦)ツ" Makka Pakka: "(#`Д′)!" Fang Chang: "Forget about whether he's a noob or not. How did you get in?" Gale Force: "I'm curious about that too. If I remember right, the greenhouse's outer gate is electronically controlled? And rusted completely shut. Old Bai bent two steel pipes and couldn't pry it open, and blasting it with gunpowder didn't budge it either. We were beginning to suspect it was just a background texture." Makka Pakka: "Brother Edge is a firefighter, plus he's a Perception-type. The guy circled that tower-like greenhouse and kept muttering to me that there had to be a fire escape or emergency exit. I figured that made sense, so I searched with him for a bit, and sure enough, we found a security door over by the warehouse!" Fang Chang: "A security door in the warehouse? I think I've seen that, but couldn't it not be opened?" Gale Force: "Yeah, that thing is powered by electricity too." Makka Pakka: "That's the miraculous part! We tried prying it and couldn't, but we found an electrical distribution box in the room. Brother Edge checked it out and found the breaker stuck and the fuse blown. Brother Edge wanted to fix it, but he couldn't make heads or tails of the tech. We scratched our heads for a while and came up with a dumb brute-force method: pull out every swappable component in the box that could be unplugged, then search around for spare parts to swap in." "We didn't even expect it to work, but after replacing a few things that were either batteries or fuses, the light on the door magically lit up! Then we couldn't wait to open the security door and walked into the greenhouse... and next thing I knew, I ran face-first into that swarm of giant moths!" Edge Slacker: "They're called devil moths! I asked!" Makka Pakka: "Yo, Brother Edge is back? You alright?" Edge Slacker: "Hehehe, not bad. My VM made it back, and my gear was saved. I was just too heavily injured, so my teammates put me out of my misery." Yaya: "o(＊≧▽≦)ツ" Fang Chang: "I just saw the official website update the data on devil moths. It says the silk produced by devil moth larvae is an excellent textile material, devil moth teeth can be crafted into tools like daggers and shears, and the spirit leaves the larvae eat can be made into stimulants." WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Holy shit! High-grade equipment materials?! Doesn't that mean we've struck gold?!" Mole on the Run from the Canyon: "No matter how rich you get, you need to be alive to spend it. Look at Brother Ba and Brother Edge: one Strength-type, one Perception-type, both level 4. Yet they went in and got wiped instantly. Isn't that enough to show how bad it is?" Fang Chang: "Yeah. What surprised me most was that a Level 4 Perception-type didn't even trigger enemy detection. The stealth of those devil moths might be higher than a Crawler's!" Old Bai: "That really is terrifying to think about. And there are still crops inside that greenhouse? Which means... there's still power in there?" Fang Chang: "Very likely. The power supply for the main gate and the cultivation systems inside are probably two completely separate power grids. Let's make a bold assumption: what's the biggest safety hazard for a highly integrated greenhouse like that?" Old Bai: "A blackout?" Fang Chang: "Exactly! Unlike traditional farming, once the power cuts out in a greenhouse like this, it means complete failure of the ventilation, water supply, and lighting systems. In just a few short hours, crops could die from unsuitable temperature, air, or lighting conditions. So besides relying on the public grid, a facility like this would have an independent power source." Gale Force: "Mm, and the backup power running internal facilities wouldn't be the same one as the external facilities either." Ye Shi: "What kind of power source lasts two hundred years?!" Mole on the Run from the Canyon: "Are you an idiot? The pre-war era in the lore was practically half a utopia, wasn't it? Isn't controlled nuclear fusion standard operating procedure? A single kilogram of Helium-3 generates 1.7 billion kilowatt-hours of electricity; a hundred tons could power the globe for a year. Do you know what that means? Assuming there's a one-ton fusion fuel rod inside, forget two hundred years, it could probably run into the next century without breaking a sweat." Gale Force: "You wouldn't even need nuclear fusion. Even a solid-state hydrogen battery, like the ones in sci-fi, would last a very long time. Since hydrogen itself isn't reactive on its own, as long as the battery structure remains intact, it can theoretically be preserved for ages." Ye Shi: "How is that possible?! Even with controlled fusion, doesn't equipment need maintenance?" Mole on the Run from the Canyon: "What else do you want? Do you expect the game devs to build one in real life to prove it to you? Should EVE build you a stargate? Should J.K. Rowling cast a spell for you?" Seeing that the two were about to argue, Fang Chang stepped in to mediate. "Alright, alright. Ye Shi is getting bogged down in lore nitpicks. Let's ignore him for now. Mole, what are your thoughts?" Mole on the Run from the Canyon continued typing: "Simple enough. I reckon this counts as a mob farming spot. The official website said devil silk is great stuff, plus the devil moth materials, and the spirit leaves that make stimulants—it's clearly a high-yield dungeon. The question now is how to farm it safely. A frontal assault is definitely out; even a Level 4 Strength-type bro couldn't hold the line, so anyone else would probably fare just as badly." The players went back and forth discussing for a good ten to twenty pages, and Chu Guang read all the way to the end. At first, the group considered using fire, which was naturally effective against insectoid mutants, but the drawback was that the loot would burn with them, likely leaving almost nothing behind. Someone also suggested venting cold air into the facility. However, the structure was durable enough that tearing open the greenhouse wouldn't be easy. Furthermore, if the internal systems were still running and producing sufficient heat, there was no telling how much effect a window-sized hole would actually have. Finally, after extensive discussion, they decided to lure the devil moths out through the emergency passage and pick them off one by one outside. Once the number of devil moths inside the nest dwindled, they would rush in, do a quick looting run, and fall back. As for Mosquito... He chose to be a menace, dropped a line saying "this is what I do best," logged off the website early, and dashed into the game. Chu Guang didn't know what he had gone off to do, but he didn't interfere with the players' methods. The outpost currently had a decent stockpile of active substance, so he could afford to let them seek death a little. Devil silk could not only be made into armor, but could also be traded as a local specialty with other survivor settlements. It was an absolute goldmine. Most of all, as the players' analysis pointed out, this greenhouse very likely harbored a salvageable controlled fusion cell. If that was truly the case, they would hit the jackpot! *** The players possessed remarkable initiative. They organized a convoy on the official website and logged in promptly at 6:00 a.m. wasteland time, surrounding the greenhouse ruins with a massive pile of gear. Using guns on moths was too wasteful; when ammunition wasn't plentiful enough to spray freely, melee weapons with broader wound surface and lower costs proved far more practical. Splitting up, the group soon located the structural blueprints of the greenhouse and scavenged a few unlooted replacement parts. Thumb-thick cylinders were likely some kind of solid fuel cells that could power standalone equipment like blast gates and firefighting gear, while index-finger-thick tubes appeared to be specialized fuses—their exact composition unknown. Not every detail in this game matched reality one-to-one, after all. The Cow and Horse Squad did not take part in this operation. Acting as operational commander was Brother Mole, "Mole on the Run from the Canyon," an artist who enjoyed fairly high prestige on the forum. The moment people heard he was an unemployed painter turned freelancer, they immediately pushed him into the commander's seat. Brother Mole did not disappoint, swiftly laying out a battle plan. "The greenhouse is divided into an aboveground section and an underground section. The surface section has only five floors, while the underground section has ten. According to my unreliable analysis, around the ninth basement floor, it connects to the ruined municipal drainage system. I suspect the devil moths entered from there, and they probably brought the spirit leaf seeds with them!" "The tenth basement floor is likely where the backup reactor is located! The devil moths have probably turned it into their hive!" "According to the blueprints, there is an active shutoff valve connecting the first and second greenhouse levels." "Strategically, we close that valve and sever the connection between the first floor and the other levels. That way, the entire first floor is ours!" Construction Boy and Bricks nodded excitedly. "Great idea! Trap the beasts behind closed doors! We clear it floor by floor, and we'll definitely push down to the hive! All that devil silk and crafting materials will be ours for the taking!" Elven King Fugui cheered enthusiastically. "Sell it all to rich lady Tengteng!" A Strength-type player pressed: "The question is, how do we pull it off?" Mole on the Run from the Canyon tapped the map and drew an X at the end of the passage with charcoal. "Tactically, we need two tanks holding the front line. We'll build barricades out of scrap concrete and timber to block the devil moths from exiting the passage. Then two Agility-types follow behind, thrusting spears outward through the gaps! These insects don't have brains; they'll just swarm forward in a mindless frenzy. With decent coordination, there shouldn't be any problem!" "Let's do it!" Working together, two Strength-type players carried makeshift barricades crafted by carpenters and set up simple obstacles along the emergency passage leading into the greenhouse ruin. These obstacles were primarily intended to facilitate retreat so they wouldn't be surrounded if the devil moths surged forward. As they neared the exit of the passage, the two Strength-types dropped sacks filled with concrete rubble onto the ground and used timber passed forward from the rear to construct a temporary fortification. The interlocking timbers formed layer upon layer of mesh, supported by several main beams, tightly sealing off the half-meter-wide opening. It took them a full two hours to finish the barricade. The moths were as long as a human arm, the smaller ones half an arm's length; there was no need to worry about them squeezing through the narrow gaps left in the wood. "Everyone get ready, I'm pulling the mob!" With that, a Strength-type player pulled a Molotov cocktail from his waist, held it past the barricade to light it, and hurled it into the open ground inside the greenhouse. With a sharp crash, the bottle shattered. Flames flared up with a hiss, immediately attracting the devil moths clinging to the surrounding walls. With no combustibles nearby, the fire didn't burn for long and soon died down. Yet immediately afterward, the mutants discovered the "blinding" heat sources lurking behind the crude barricade. A spine-chilling screeching grinding noise echoed through the corridor. Moths slammed in like bullets, crashing violently against the wooden barricade and making arm-thick timbers creak and groan. The two sides collided head-on! "Holy crap! These moths are ridiculously strong!" "Hurry up and attack! I'm not gonna hold! Fuck!" "I'm on it, I'm on it! Just bear with it!" The Agility-type players crouching behind dared not hesitate. They thrust their spears, pulled back, and thrust again, repeating the simple, primitive piston motion. Although not every strike hit something vital, thrusting wildly like this was bound to skewer a few unlucky bastards. Devil moths never had strong defenses to begin with. Their soft abdomens were like paper; a single spear thrust left the spearhead coated in a sodden mess of bug blood, guts, and cilia scraped from their wings. "Holy shit, is there any end to this?!" "Put some muscle into it!" "Fuck! I am putting muscle into it, but there are way too many of them!" "I can't hold it! Stop stabbing for a second and come help me—" Before the unlucky guy could finish his sentence, however, the timber barricade burst like a collapsed dam under the surging insect swarm. No matter how hard the Strength-type players pushed, the barricade gave way. The wood was splintered to pieces by vicious jaws. And soon, so were flesh and bone. Before the four players could even turn around, their connection to their clones snapped instantly, sending them back to the official website to spectate. Because they had no opportunity to retreat at all, the roadblocks they had laid along the passage went entirely unused. Brief shrieks of agony echoed through the corridor, followed by the deafening drone of wings. The few players standing guard at the passage entrance exchanged glances. "Wiped that fast?" "No idea... but judging by the sound, they're probably done for." The first probing attempt ended in defeat. Yet the players did not give up. Instead, their fighting spirit only intensified, and they quickly launched a second run. This time, the frontline consisted of three Strength-type players, backed by two novice Strength-types acting as reserves to repair the barricade and swap out exhausted frontline players. Behind them stood three Agility-type players, each carrying four spears, with a Constitution-type player bringing up the rear carrying Goblin Tech's "Hellfire 0.3." Mosquito had sponsored this device free of charge—no fees, just a request to post a user review on the official website once they finished testing it. Supposedly, this version of the Hellfire had a flashback arrestor installed, so flame would no longer creep back along the fuel line. Still, even Mosquito, who boasted so confidently about its power, couldn't guarantee that other mishaps wouldn't occur. Why else call it a trial product? It was free, after all; what more did they expect? In short: avoid Goblin Tech products if possible, and never use them unless backed into a corner. That was the wisdom frontline commander Brother Mole had imparted to his troops. All nine players were finally ready and advanced into the passage together, their dense formation packing the corridor wall to wall. They had completely dug in against these moths, determined not to stop until they reclaimed their lost honor. Judging by the ongoing battle, however, progress was far from optimistic. The moths seemed endless, surging forward wave after wave. In the end, the nine-man squad couldn't hold either and was forced to unleash Goblin Tech. They barely evacuated everyone before the flamethrower blew up, temporarily sealing the entrance to the emergency passage behind them. The battle stalemated from morning until evening. Counting the earlier wiped squad, the players had paid a price of four dead and two wounded. Meanwhile, on the first floor, at least a hundred devil moths—possibly more—lay dead. As for the exact count, nobody knew; in conditions like these, tallying casualties was impossible, and they could only make an educated guess. A kill-death ratio of 4:100+ was undeniably impressive. Ordinary survivors wouldn't just struggle against monsters like these; they would barely have the courage to even step inside their nest. The only flaw was that they gained no loot today, having merely whittled down a wave of the enemy's living forces... Seeing the late hour, the bruised and battered players had no choice but to wait for tomorrow, however reluctant they felt. As for the outcome of "four dead and two wounded," Chu Guang, who had spectated the whole thing, found it entirely within expectations and didn't take it to heart. After their sweeping victory over the marauders a few days ago, the players had gotten a bit cocky. Suffering a minor setback was hardly a bad thing. Fire was a good idea, but the enemy's numbers posed a problem, and hunting differed from war—the former required preserving materials. Perhaps next time they could try smoking them out? As the cost of growth, a handful of casualties was perfectly acceptable to Chu Guang. As long as the VMs were recovered, it wasn't a major loss. Chu Guang had also recently discovered that Gnawers could yield active substance as well. Even if the yield was pitifully small—only 0.1 to 0.2 units per corpse, with the resulting waste utterly useless and fit only to be dumped into the septic tank as biological trash—it was still better than nothing. Killing Gnawers wasn't particularly difficult. As long as they didn't encounter them in tight spaces like subways or rubble, even a team of rookies could easily take down a few by kiting them. So far, over seventy percent of the one hundred new players had reached Level 1, while the highest-level veteran player had already hit Level 6, almost catching sight of Chu Guang's taillights. Chu Guang's own "Administrator" sequence was currently developed to 9%—in gaming terms, Level 9—and sat just a hair away from Level 10. Perhaps after commanding another battle or leeching some experience alongside the players, he might break through. A faction leader like himself—both exceptionally brilliant and peerlessly brave—was genuinely a rare sight outside barbarian tribes. A little pride was hardly unjustified. Shouldering his sledgehammer as he inspected the industrial zone, Chu Guang mused to himself. Just then, Brother Levin from the No. 81 Steel Mill suddenly trotted over toward him. The little player's face was as red as a furnace, though whether from the biting northwest wind or pure reverence and admiration, Chu Guang couldn't tell. "Respected Administrator! I have an important matter to report to you!" Stopping in his tracks to look at him, Chu Guang said, "Speak." Clenching his fists in excitement, Brother Levin took a deep breath. "The battle armor you ordered!" "We've finished it!"