Just as the hot topic on the official forum shifted from "Alpha 0.61 Version" to "How many silver coins did the Cow and Horse Squad actually make?", a furtive figure slipped through the snow-covered streets in the dusk and arrived near the abandoned tire factory.
Gazing at the palisade gate not far off, Wang Biao clutched the envelope against his chest, swallowed hard, and felt a creeping sense of foreboding.
"...Why is the gate open?"
It wasn't just open.
Charred and blackened, it looked as though it had been scorched by fire.
There were no sentries on the perimeter wall, either.
What baffled Wang Biao most was that he had walked all the way here without running into a single patrol.
Swallowing hard once more, Wang Biao brushed the snow off his collar. With trembling hands, he pulled the letter from his chest and held it high above his head. Like someone surrendering, he emerged from the shadow of the wall and walked toward the gate.
"I—I'm from Bet Street! I'm delivering a letter for our Mayor!"
To be frank, Wang Biao had been utterly unwilling to take this job.
After all, these were savages who devoured people bones and all.
If Old Charlie hadn't repeatedly assured him that the marauders wouldn't give him trouble once they saw the letter, and hadn't promised him a reward of five chips, he would never have taken on such dangerous work.
This was trading his life for coin!
With every step forward, Wang Biao felt his heart skip half a beat.
When he finally reached the entrance, he started to lean in and peer through the half-open gate, only for two antennae to suddenly flick out from the gap, nearly smacking him right across the nose.
"Fuck!"
A mutant cockroach!
Staring at the cockroach—roughly the size of a wolfhound—poking its head out through the gap, Wang Biao, already on edge, was scared nearly out of his wits.
Tossing the letter aside, he drew the club lashed to his waist by pure reflex and swung it wildly.
Mutant cockroaches on the wasteland weren't especially terrifying; as long as one didn't stumble into a nest and get swarmed, even the weakest survivor could easily take down a few.
Two blows smashed its head!
Fluid splattered everywhere!
Gazing at the belly-up cockroach on the ground, Wang Biao nervously crouched down to pick up the dropped letter, worried sick that the snow might soak it.
Then he shouted inside.
"An-anyone there?"
No reply.
His Adam's apple bobbed. Forcing down his anxiety and dread, Wang Biao crept cautiously through the scorched palisade gate.
Sure enough, the camp was completely deserted.
The marauders who should have been stationed here seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Only the severed limbs impaled on wooden stakes and the blood smeared across the walls showed any sign that they had ever existed.
"Damn..."
Surely the marauders couldn't have been eaten by cockroaches, could they?!
Wang Biao felt a jolt of shock, but far more than that, sheer joy.
Not a single survivor in the northern suburbs of Qingquan City didn't fear and loathe the marauders of the Bloodhand Clan.
He didn't dare linger for a single second longer.
Having confirmed that nobody was left inside, Wang Biao broke into a run.
Running against the wind and snow the entire way, he finally made it back to Bet Street, several kilometers away, before night fell completely. He stood before Old Charlie, panting heavily with his hands propped on his knees.
Seeing the crumpled letter gripped in Wang Biao's fist, Old Charlie frowned.
Before he could ask, the gasping Wang Biao took a deep breath and exclaimed, flushed with excitement:
"Bloodhand! The marauders at the tire factory! They're gone!"
"What did you say?!"
Charlie gave a jolt of surprise. Glancing around instinctively to make sure no one was nearby, he immediately yanked the hulking, simpleminded brute inside the house.
Closing the door curtain, Charlie fixed his eyes on him and demanded, "Speak clearly. What do you mean by 'gone'?"
"The camp! The whole camp is empty! There's not a soul left!" Shock and joy mingled across Wang Biao's face as he panted heavily. "I took a peek inside, and there's nobody... Those marauders just vanished!"
After listening to Wang Biao's account, Charlie's expression turned pensive.
People didn't just vanish into thin air.
And there was no reason for the Bloodhand Clan to suddenly up and move.
Still, looking at it this way, things finally made sense.
Charlie pondered for a moment.
Counting out five grime-covered chips from a drawer, he weighed them in his hand, then gently placed them on the table as if making a decision.
"Leave the Mayor's letter here. We'll consider it delivered. These chips are the reward he promised you. Take them."
"Thank you, Old Butler!"
Putting down the letter, Wang Biao didn't think twice. Grinning broadly, he scooped up the chips from the table.
Five chips!
That could buy plenty of good things!
Charlie shot him a glance, quietly folded the letter on the table, and tucked it into his pocket. Then he said in an unhurried voice:
"Keep quiet about the Bloodhand Clan. You catch my drift?"
Wang Biao blinked, caught off guard, and asked tentatively,
"...Um, Old Butler, I'm not the brightest. Could you spell it out for me?"
He didn't understand why the old butler looked so grave.
The marauders were gone...
Wasn't that wonderful news?
He couldn't wait to bring this good news home and share it with his family.
Then again, why had the Mayor written to the marauders in the first place?
He had never thought about it before, but now he began to wonder what that letter actually said.
Looking at the dim-witted giant, Charlie sighed and patiently explained:
"I'm telling you to keep your mouth shut."
"You've already taken the pay for delivering the letter. If the Mayor finds out that the Bloodhand Clan is gone and your letter was never actually delivered, do you know what will happen to you?"
Did he really need to spell that out?
Charlie was at his wit's end with this fool.
This time, Wang Biao finally understood. Coming to his senses, a shudder ran through him, and he nodded meekly.
"Right! You're right! I swear I won't say a single word about the Bloodhand Clan! B-but... what if the Mayor finds out on his own?"
He had been overjoyed when he first pocketed the chips, but thinking about it now, the money felt like a hot potato.
Just as the old butler said.
He hadn't delivered the letter at all.
If the Mayor discovered he had duped him, he would surely flay Wang Biao alive and hang his hide over the door to feed the rats.
"Anything can happen in winter," Old Charlie said casually. "Just do as I told you, and you'll be fine."
Though his head spun with questions, Wang Biao still nodded stiffly.
"Alright... I'll do whatever you say!"
It wasn't out of trust in the old butler, but rather because he didn't want to return the chips in his hand.
Even so, the joyous news of the Bloodhand Clan's disappearance would have to remain buried in his gut for now.
"Good that you remember. There's nothing more for you here. Get lost." Old Charlie waved him off.
Holding the chips, Wang Biao reached the door. Just as he was about to draw back the curtain to leave, he remembered something and stopped in his tracks, hesitating.
Old Charlie glanced at him.
"What else do you want?"
Wang Biao chuckled awkwardly and whispered, "Um, about that kid from the Yu family..."
"Get lost."
Scolded out of nowhere, Wang Biao was utterly baffled, but he didn't dare talk back. He scurried off without uttering a peep.
Old Charlie cursed under his breath, slumped into a chair, and rubbed the space between his brows.
Truth be told, he was old. Seeing what the world had become, he had no ambitions left in this life, let alone chasing glory and riches. All he wanted was to live out the rest of his days in peace and quiet in this post-utopian ruin.
Yet circumstances no longer left him any choice.
Pulling a crumpled sheet of paper from the drawer, Old Charlie pondered for a moment, then uncapped his fountain pen and began to write.
"I hope my judgment is right."
Even if he had rarely been right in his entire life...
...
Late at night.
As the final batch of supplies arrived at the outpost warehouse, Chu Guang finally finished taking inventory of the windfall the Cow and Horse Squad had unearthed for him just before ten in the evening.
First was the metal stock. The largest stockpile in that shelter consisted of steel ingots stamped with various grade codes, totaling 2,200 kilograms.
A gelatinous antioxidant coating covered the surface of these ingots, physically barring oxygen and moisture. Even after two centuries, they remained in excellent condition.
In addition, there were 1,000 kilograms of aluminum ingots, 1,000 kilograms of lead ingots, 1,000 kilograms of copper ingots, 500 kilograms of chromium and tungsten ingots and the like, as well as 5 kilograms of gold and 10 kilograms of silver.
This amount was nearly double the metal consumables he had purchased from the Red River Town merchant!
And it wasn't just metal materials; several non-metallic materials thrilled Chu Guang to no end.
These included 200 kilograms of fiberglass, 200 kilograms of graphite, 200 kilograms of oxidation-resistant synthetic rubber, twenty one-liter bottles of hydraulic oil, thirty 300-milliliter bottles of lubricant, fifty bottles of specialty adhesive, and a scattering of other consumables.
Of course, what delighted Chu Guang the most was that workbench.
If Xia Yan's DIY workbench was barely iron-tier, this one was at least platinum-grade.
It might even brush diamond tier!
To say nothing of anything else, the mere fact that its cutting tools and various fixtures hadn't oxidized or warped after two hundred years—along with guide rails and swappable modules that looked brand-new, right out of the factory—proved how extraordinary it was.
Across the entire workbench, not a single speck of rust could be found.
At least from the outside.
"...The electric motor won't start. Probably a circuit issue—some internal component must have degraded with age. It's not a big deal, though. A little repair work should get it running."
Inside the weapons shop.
Having spent a long time examining the pristine workbench, Xia Yan closed the electrical cabinet on its side, turned to Chu Guang standing beside her, and asked curiously, "Where did you get your hands on something this good?"
A bright, sunny smile spread across Chu Guang's face.
"Where I got it doesn't matter. What matters is that I have a group of hardworking, brave little players. With them around, I can always get good things."
His slightly boastful tone made Xia Yan lower her head to keep studying the machine before her.
Not because she was diligent.
She simply didn't want her dear boss to catch her rolling her eyes.
"If I can fix this workbench, bullet production should speed up quite a bit. It has a full range of functions too—aside from cutting tools, it actually has stamping modules and drill bits... By the way, what material are these drill bits even made of? They feel harder than diamond. Yeah, with this, machining a few seamless steel tubes shouldn't be an issue."
At the mention of seamless steel tubes, Chu Guang's heart stirred, and he immediately asked, "Meaning we can make guns?"
He didn't understand the hyper-technical details, but he had heard the players say that the main reason No. 81 Steel Mill couldn't make guns was its inability to produce seamless steel tubes.
If they could produce those, at least half the problem was solved.
Hearing Chu Guang's question, Xia Yan answered as if it were obvious:
"It's not as simple as you think, but with the right tools, it's not overly difficult either. Put it this way: as long as you hot-form the steel ingots into steel bars, you get barrel blanks. Then drill through them and rifle the bore, and a barrel is more or less done."
"The harder part is the drilling and rifling. As for the first half... with ready materials on hand, making barrel blanks isn't too tough. I think that steel mill of yours can handle it."
Chu Guang glanced at Xia Yan with mild surprise.
It seemed she actually had some real skill.
She was just plain lazy.
"I'll have someone sort out the barrel blanks. What about the receiver parts? Can you make those?"
"That's easy. Once I fix the workbench, I'll show you what I can do. Give me a couple of days... assuming things go smoothly." Mid-sentence, Xia Yan couldn't help yawning. She looked at Chu Guang and suggested, "Look, it's pitch black right now... no way to fix it like this. Can I head back? I have to be up early tomorrow."
"Go ahead."
"What about you? Aren't you coming?"
Chu Guang checked the time on his VM and answered casually, "I still have a few things to handle. Should be done before midnight."
"Midnight? Fine, I won't wait up for you then."
Extinguishing the lantern on the table, Xia Yan shut the door to the weapons shop and, crutch tucked under her arm, walked off toward the sanatorium.
Chu Guang didn't linger either. He returned to the warehouse, watching Old Luka and two storekeepers sort and store the supplies.
This haul would take the outpost quite a while to process.
Even if his production players were champions at burning through resources, they shouldn't have any problem stretching it all the way until spring!
Now that the inventory was settled and the sudden windfall had left Chu Guang thoroughly ecstatic, it was time to let his little players taste the sweetness as well.
'The dungeon payout... let me think.'
From pure material value alone, this batch of resources was worth at least 2,000 silver coins or more. Yet from the standpoint of game balance, anything over 1,000 silver coins would be disruptive.
From discovery to clearing the entire dungeon, the Cow and Horse Squad had only taken four days. If the total reward was 1,000 silver coins, that meant each of them would average an income of 62.5 silver coins per day.
Uhhh...
Well, that wasn't absurdly high.
Equipment wear and tear, expended ammunition, supplies... all of those carried costs. Besides, they had picked up a random pug midway through.
So it was actually split five ways?
Wrestling between practical value and game balance for five minutes, Chu Guang finally arrived at a reasonable figure: 1,500 silver coins!
As for how they divvied it up among themselves, Chu Guang couldn't be bothered to care.
Let them do as they pleased.
These silver coins would keep them grinning for a long time to come.
Chapter 120