A New Order!

At Bet Street's north gate. Watching the guns and ammunition being loaded onto covered wagons and hauled away, Old Walter clicked his tongue as he kept watch over the captives, his heart heavy with mixed feelings. "If that bastard had handed out the guns sooner, he might not have lost." Bet Street's survivors had never so much as touched a firearm, because their esteemed Mayor had never intended to let them afford one. As for the reason, Walter understood it well enough. Compared to marauders who could be appeased with wealth, the starving scavengers beneath his boots were what the man truly feared. Having just returned from comforting the survivors, Old Charlie happened to overhear the remark. He smiled faintly and replied offhandedly, "The outcome would have been the same." "Why?" "Do you have faith?" Old Walter froze. "Faith?" Charlie glanced at the bluecoats, standing tall and guarding their posts with unwavering vigor, and said meaningfully, "They do." What turned this world into a wasteland was never a single terrifying weapon, but the despair of witnessing paradise collapse. Before being sold here, Charlie had seen petty tyrants plowing fields with bionic androids, warmongers mounting nuclear fusion engines onto airships, and lunatics installing eight cybernetic prosthetics to turn themselves into octopuses. Many of his kin who emerged from the same shelter were perfectly fine people before the vault door opened, yet went mad not long after stepping outside. Many others chose suicide, unable to endure the cruel reality. Yet these bluecoats seemed to represent the complete opposite extreme. How should one put it...? They seemed almost abnormally optimistic. Old Charlie could not find the words to describe their state. One thing was certain, however: if even the despair of paradise collapsing could not crush them, some formidable conviction had to be sustaining their hearts. Oblivious to what Old Charlie was pondering, the two young players standing guard at the gate were passing the time by shooting the breeze. "Regarding the situation in Afghanistan, I have the following six points..." "You've got a point, but Vatican City has a permanent population of eight hundred, while Australia alone has forty-seven million kangaroos. If the kangaroos decide to invade Vatican City, each Vatican resident will have to fight 58,750 kangaroos." "Wait, is that old guy looking at us?" "Does he have a quest for us?" "Doesn't look like it. There's no exclamation mark on the map, and he isn't wearing a VM." "Forget it then. Don't worry about the old fellow... Right, where was I?" ... The generator powering the castle was located on the first floor. It was the same type Chu Guang had previously purchased from Liszt—a combined firewood gasifier and gas generator. However, this firewood generator's output was vastly greater than the one Chu Guang had bought. Four feeding ports connected to four enormous cylinders, delivering a maximum output of an astounding 150 kW! Leaving such a generator in this castle was a sheer waste. Chu Guang intended to haul it back. The outpost's current "power grid" was rated at a mere 10 kW, which was already strained just powering a single active substance extractor. With 150 kW, an enormous amount could be accomplished! Before taking it back, however, Chu Guang needed to use it right here. The players skillfully stuffed firewood into the feeding ports and pulled the main switch. As the generator roared back to life, lighting across the castle was restored. Carrying his great hammer on his back, Chu Guang stepped into the castle and took the elevator straight to the top floor. According to player reports, this was the old Mayor's study. Chu Guang had instructed them not to rummage through anything here until he arrived. The players had obediently followed orders, though throughout the rest of the castle, they had practically stripped the place down to the bare plaster. The elevator came to a smooth halt. Seeing the fireplace directly ahead, along with the neatly arranged triangle of firewood inside, Chu Guang could not resist clicking his tongue. "Corrupt as all hell." Even the hallways had heating! Did that Old Leech usually walk around naked at home? The mental image was far too cursed; Chu Guang decided it was best not to dwell on it. Striding down the carpeted hallway, Chu Guang headed straight for the study marked with a special icon on his VM map. Rather than a study, the room resembled a collector's vault. Alongside pre-war novels, poetry collections, and cookbooks displayed on the bookshelves were a variety of bizarre novelties and decorative trinkets. Chu Guang reached out and took a small, brass-colored pistol from a shelf. He examined it in his hand for a moment, then aimed it at the adjacent wall and pulled the trigger. A tiny flame sprouted from the muzzle. "A lighter?" In addition to the pistol-shaped lighter, there was a beetle-shaped clock crafted from golden mainsprings and gears, which looked quite valuable. In a rusted tin box, Chu Guang even found several gold bars. It seemed that in the Qingquan City region, gold was not particularly rare—at least not compared to those colorful chips. Otherwise, this box would not have been left behind. "Tsk, that stingy bastard." "He didn't leave me a single damn chip!" After admiring his spoils for a brief moment, Chu Guang set the flashy baubles aside and turned his gaze toward the radio sitting on the desk. Stepping forward, he pressed the power switch. After a brief pause, soothing, melodic music accompanied by noisy static drifted from the aged speaker. Chu Guang was surprised. "There's actually a signal?" Was it from Boulder City? Or some other survivor settlement...? Chu Guang was about to adjust the frequency to see if there were other channels. Yet just as his hand touched the black knob, the soothing music cut off abruptly, replaced by a glib, slick-talking host. "...We interrupt this program with a news bulletin. To our north, on the northern outskirts of Qingquan City, an armed skirmish involving a hundred people has broken out. A gang of refugees suspected to be from the north, wielding rifles made of water pipes, assaulted a local survivor settlement. Their most advanced weapon was a comical smoothbore cannon!" "Tsk tsk, truly brutal. We saw those refugees blast open the locals' doors with black powder and crush their skulls with rifle butts. They hung the men from the gate and bound the women with ropes—from one-year-olds to fifty-year-old women, all dragged off into dark alleys... Tsk tsk tsk, absolute beasts. Utterly barbaric!" Chu Guang: "...?" Was this host high on something? Why spew such blatant nonsense? The study's window faced the Fifth Ring Road north of Qingquan City. Chu Guang looked out into the distance, but could only vaguely make out jagged, crooked silhouettes of ruined skyscrapers and broken elevated highway bridges. The urban core further beyond was either obstructed or blurred by winter fog. "...They can actually see this far from Boulder City?" Or had they established an observation post along the Fifth Ring Road or atop a skyscraper, watching in secret through high-powered binoculars? Chu Guang's eyebrows lifted slightly. How interesting. The voice on the radio continued. After fabricating the barbaric atrocities of the northern refugees, the radio host smoothly shifted gears, seamlessly plugging an advertisement into the broadcast. "Ongoing instability in northern River Valley Province threatens the security of southern territories. Boulder Military Industries reminds you: firepower is the foundation of survival! For your own safety, we proudly recommend our latest products—the Salamander assault rifle, the Pitaya grenade launcher, and Crowbar Brand Bread supplied by Workshop No. 1's cafeteria." "If even these fail to keep your neighbors calm, we also offer a comprehensive suite of military outsourcing services, including dispute mediation and armed intervention." "As long as your pockets are lined with enough chips, Boulder City's mercenaries will never let you down!" ... [Quest: Liberate Bet Street (Completed)] [Description: The flag of Shelter 404 flies above Bet Street's castle. Our enemies fled in panic, discarding their weapons to surrender. Though Old Leech's whereabouts remain unknown, it matters little. The people of Bet Street will thank us, and they shall embrace a brighter tomorrow.] [Rewards: 50 silver coins, 100 contribution points, 1 lucky draw attempt, one 330ml bottle of wine, and Xiaoyu's gratitude.] At midday. Receiving the completion notification almost simultaneously, the players standing before the castle showed looks of astonishment. "Huh?! Am I seeing things? What's a lucky draw attempt?" "Holy crap! The game isn't even in open beta, and they've already implemented a gacha system!" "My blind guess: character banners next!" "Developer: Testing cash-grab mechanics is an essential part of closed beta. Don't like it, don't play. Manual doge." "I'm pulling! Hey, I got a brass pistol lighter?!" "Holy shit, let me try... Fuck! Why the hell did I pull a ram horn potato?!" "Hahahahaha, certified African luck!" Of course, not everyone was busy drawing prizes. A certain short-haired girl, for instance, had other priorities. "Xiaoyu's gratitude! Waaaah, how will Xiaoyu thank Tail?! Will she let Tail hug her? Can I pick her up and take a nibble?" Standing nearby, Sisi sighed and poked Tail's arm with her rifle butt. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Being too perverted will get you kicked offline, you know." The lucky draw feature was something Chu Guang had Xiao Qi develop the previous night. Having lacked an opportunity to test it, he had patched it into the quest rewards as a trial run. Judging by the reception, player feedback seemed quite positive. Although the prize pool consisted of trinkets that would not disrupt game balance, the occasional ecstatic cheer from a lucky player always pushed the atmosphere to a crescendo. What surprised Chu Guang was that, judging by the players' reactions, the consensus SSSR prize was not the pipe rifle valued at 150 silver coins, but rather that practically useless "brass pistol." Its brass exterior looked like a true "golden legendary," and its stylish design was undeniably cool. Its sole drawback was that it could not fire bullets, only light cigarettes, being a novelty lighter. Still, that did not matter in the slightest! Anyone who had played *The Division* knew that named weapons were not necessarily more effective than standard high-end gear, yet players hoarded them as collector's items to show off on the forums and dazzle rookies. *Wasteland OL* was no different. A "legendary" weapon offered no damage bonus to ammunition. Whether it was Cha's submachine gun or Bear's shotgun, beyond carrying a unique backstory, neither performed any better than the pipe rifles bought from Boulder City. Granted, Old Leech's lighter was not completely useless; outpost players currently relied primarily on matches for fire. A piezoelectric lighter like this still counted as "high-tech." Mosquito, who had drawn a single ram horn potato, hollered indignantly in the square. "Bad review! Why didn't we hold an auction this time?! I wanted that Old Leech's lighter!" The surrounding players laughed at him. That's what you get for throwing bids around recklessly! No gold-DKP rules this time, stunned now, aren't you? Having drawn the lighter, Makka Pakka grinned mischievously, looking as if he wanted to hang his VM around his neck to flaunt it. "Want it for a thousand silver coins? Once-in-a-lifetime offer, bro." "Screw you! A thousand silver for a lighter?! Are you robbing me?!" Who on earth could scrounge up a four-digit sum right now?! Makka Pakka raised his eyebrows smugly. He had no intention of selling it; the price was purely made up on the spot. "Going once at a thousand silver, going twice at a thousand silver... Any more bids? None? Great, it's fifteen hundred now." Mosquito: "%￥#@!" Upon quest completion, the silver coins and contribution points were credited immediately. As for drawn prizes and the rewarded wine, players would have to wait until returning to the outpost to claim them at the NPC warehouse. Drinking was better saved for the victory banquet tonight. If Chu Guang handed out the wine right now, he genuinely worried these little fools would drink themselves offline on the spot, forcing him to arrange people to carry them all back. That would be looking for trouble. Beyond the universal rewards, players assigned extra tasks received additional compensation, consisting mainly of silver and copper coins. This preserved overall balance while keeping players who had missed out from feeling slighted. In truth, Chu Guang had recently been considering introducing a military merit system alongside the contribution structure, issuing digital medals and military ranks to further differentiate the progression paths between production players and combat players. However, doing so would introduce new complications. It was better to wait until the player base expanded and territorial expansion began before enriching that layer of gameplay. At the castle entrance, Chu Guang found Old Charlie and had him conduct a preliminary inventory of Bet Street's supplies. Old Charlie was thoroughly familiar with such work. He quickly located the ledgers left in the warehouse and guided Chu Guang to the granary for verification. "Bet Street's granary currently holds eight thousand kilograms of ram horn potatoes, twelve thousand kilograms of green wheat, five thousand kilograms of cabbage, eight hundred kilograms of air-dried meat, thirty kilograms of coarse salt, and two burlap sacks of black pepper and Sichuan pepper... Every item is recorded in this ledger, complete with logs for each withdrawal. Please have a look, my Lord." With that, Old Charlie respectfully presented the crumpled ledger to Chu Guang. Chu Guang took the ledger and skimmed through it. To his surprise, beyond the staple provisions, the warehouse actually contained two 500-gram packages of refined salt and twenty jin of white sugar. There were even soy sauce and vinegar! Old Leech's diet had been extravagant indeed. "What about reserves other than food and armaments?" Old Charlie replied respectfully, "The warehouse mainly stores furs intended for trade, which can be found in the back of this ledger. However, after Liszt's caravan visited last time, the Bloodhand Clan came by to extort goods once more, so not much remains in storage." "Additionally, over at the general store, there are 173 chips and one hyena pup pelt. Though not listed in the ledger, I have gathered them for you on the table by the warehouse entrance." Chu Guang nodded. One hundred seventy-three chips was quite a substantial sum. As for the furs Old Leech had paid to Bloodhand as tribute, they were currently resting in Chu Guang's own warehouse. A portion had apparently been bought by Tengteng to craft clothing, which several players were now wearing. Just as Chu Guang was about to have Old Charlie guide him on a tour of the storehouses, a dirt-streaked player approached from the direction of the castle. "Lord Administrator!" Seeing Midnight Chicken Slaughter returning alone, Chu Guang had already guessed the outcome, but he still looked at him and asked, "What's the situation?" Midnight Chicken Slaughter replied sheepishly, "...When we went down, an explosion echoed from the passage, and wastewater immediately flooded over the soles of our boots. We pushed forward and soon ran into several startled giant rats and mutant cockroaches... After dealing with them, we tried clearing the collapsed rubble with shovels, but the passage's timber beams were broken. The more we dug, the more it caved in ahead, so we had no choice but to pull out." Wastewater? It seemed the underground passage from the wine cellar connected to Qingquan City's sewer network. When Old Leech detonated the explosives, he likely ruptured a nearby water pipe. Having heard Midnight Chicken Slaughter's report, Chu Guang did not reprimand him, merely nodding. "Understood. You've done well enough. Don't blame yourself." If they couldn't find him, so be it. The survivors of Bet Street were already well aware of Old Leech's crimes. Dead or alive, the people here would never allow him to return. With that, Chu Guang swiped his index finger across his VM screen, tapping "Confirm Completion" for the young player's quest. Watching Midnight Chicken Slaughter leave in high spirits, Chu Guang turned back to Old Charlie and tossed the ledger into his hands. "I will take all the general supplies from the warehouse. As for the food, I will take half and leave the rest here for Bet Street's residents to purchase. Keep the ledger safe; I will dispatch someone periodically to audit it." "Furthermore, Bet Street's official currency will transition to copper coins and silver coins. Existing chips may still be used, but no new chips will be issued into circulation. In the future, whenever villagers bring hunted game to exchange for money, pay them directly in silver and copper." Introducing a new currency might present initial friction, but Chu Guang intended to let the lever of pricing guide them naturally toward their own choice. When the same goods were cheaper to purchase with silver coins, survivors would inherently favor trading with the new currency. Upon hearing Chu Guang's instructions, Charlie immediately grasped his intent and nodded in understanding. "I understand your will, my Lord." Chu Guang nodded. Just then, Chu Guang recalled an important matter left unsaid. Looking at Old Charlie, he cleared his throat, raised his voice, and continued with a solemn expression. "Tyranny has been overthrown. A new order awaits the survivors of Bet Street." "From this moment on, you are the new Mayor." "Each month, I will pay you a salary of four hundred silver coins. Your first task is to draft a set of rules in black and white to serve as the preliminary framework for Bet Street's first legal code. Going forward, everything here shall be conducted strictly according to the law." Charlie's expression froze in astonishment. Though he had guessed Chu Guang would likely have him assist in sorting out the local mess, both a formal salary and a code of law were entirely beyond his expectations. Could this Lord still believe, even now, that this world was worth saving? Though bewilderment filled his heart, Old Charlie said nothing of it. He merely bowed his head respectfully and accepted the appointment with pleasure. "As you command, my Lord."