Not a Bad Trade!

Wang Biao naturally had no idea that a position like Captain of the Guard was never something Old Charlie had the authority to arrange; the old man was merely announcing it on someone else's behalf. After all, nominally, the guard force answered to the neighborhood office and swore allegiance to all residents of Bet Street. In reality, however, Shelter 404 had long since assumed control of Bet Street. Whether it was the mayor or the captain of the guard, every key figure was personally appointed by the Lord Administrator of Shelter 404... ... On the VMs of every Shelter 404 player: [Daily News: 1. Yesterday evening, tracks of a split-claw crab were spotted near the lake. Players fishing, please chum the waters with caution. 2. The situation in the northern part of River Valley Province remains turbulent. If you spot large groups of refugees, please report to the Administrator immediately. 3. Goblin Technology is offering a limited co-branded edition of wasteland punk apparel—riddled with holes to showcase the true spirit of a wasteland lad! Seven pieces total, available while supplies last! (This is a paid advertisement. Ad space is available for long-term lease; if interested, please contact the Administrator's assistant.)] [New Food Varieties Available at the Outpost: Corn and Sugar Beets] [Today's Recommended Recipe: Fried Corn Crisps and Fresh-Squeezed Sugar Beet Juice.] [New Warehouse Stock Item: White Granulated Sugar] [Friendly Reminder: According to divination by the weapon shop proprietress, exploring toward the north will bring good fortune. But please remember not to wander too far on your own—corpse runs are terribly painful!] The morning sun rose. The faint glow of dawn spilled over the snow, illuminating footprints radiating outward from the sanatorium. Players who had already decided on their destinations left the outpost in groups of three to five, while those still undecided lingered in the square. Among them were many greenhorns who had just entered the game. Stunned by everything before their eyes, they stood dumbfounded at first, then danced with wild, uncontrolled excitement. Some players knelt on the ground, eagerly shoving snow into their mouths. Of course, that was relatively sane behavior; tasting the snow wasn't exactly social suicide. As for the handful of players doing genuinely eye-searing antics, to spare them from social death, Chu Guang would forcibly disconnect them for ten minutes so they could cool off in reality before returning. Regardless, today was once again a bright and hopeful day. "Gear upgrade, gear upgrade! Selling a secondhand revolver rifle for ninety silver coins! PM me if interested!" "Boss, I'm new! How long does it take to earn ninety silver coins?" "Quick. If you're lucky, two or three days; if you're unlucky, grind for a week. Hurry and find a veteran from the same sequence to take you through the Passing the Torch quest. Once you hit LV1, you'll be able to protect yourself, and the reward is just enough for a set of hunting gear." "Any Perception-type players around? Pioneering to the north! PM if interested!" "Shocking! Did you guys see today's VM push notification? Daddy Devs finally remembered to expand our menu!" "*Sob sob sob*, finally some new food! Production players weeping tears of joy!" "Say, corn and sugar beets are pretty expensive—double the price of green wheat and ram horn potatoes." "Probably because green wheat and ram horn potatoes are easier to grow." "When the heck is Makka Pakka's Greenhouse Farm opening? He just stuck a wooden sign by the lake and went dead silent." "Who knows? I'm worried that once the greenhouse ruins are cleared, he'll be out of a job on the spot." "Hahahaha, that would be way too tragic!" At present, progress on conquering the greenhouse ruins had entered the final stage. The Cow and Horse Squad had successfully reached the vicinity of the first-floor blast door and activated it, cutting off access between the surface floor and the levels below. That way, devil moths could no longer reinforce from other floors. The remaining task was simply mopping up any stragglers. Judging by Fang Chang's post on the official forum, it would take a day at fastest, or two days at most. And once that was done, the climate-controlled cultivation units on the first floor of the greenhouse ruins—all packed with spirit leaves—could be put back into use. ... While the players merrily began another day of grinding, Chu Guang, having finished his opening address to the newbies, turned back into the shelter. He opened the Administrator allowance page in the system and checked the rewards waiting for him. Over the past several days, the players had worked with tremendous diligence, and in the blink of an eye, his reward points had accumulated to 137. Time to happily open some blind boxes again! Chu Guang didn't jump in right away. Instead, he headed to Floor B2 to wash his face before unhurriedly selecting the draw. Seven basic blind boxes yielded four lollipops, two 500-gram cans of pork and beans, and one 200-gram bag of cumin. All in all, pretty good luck. Setting aside the two cans—food produced by the shelter had never disappointed him—that bag of cumin was a real treasure! Barbecue without cumin had no soul! As for the three intermediate blind boxes and one advanced blind box, the loot was rather mediocre: three packs of hemostatic bandages and an EMP grenade. The latter in particular specialized purely in killing electronic equipment and had zero effect on anything else. Leaving aside a certain friendly unit, Chu Guang couldn't even find a target that this grenade could damage. Worst of all, the thing was single-use. Spending a hundred reward points on a one-time consumable felt absolutely terrible! "Dammit, you might as well have given me a few more bandages!" Even another drone would have been nice. Cursing under his breath, Chu Guang picked up the grenade from the conveyor belt, opened the system interface, and glanced at his quest log. The only remaining quest was the side quest triggered when he first discovered the mutant tribe: eradicating it. Back then, the shelter was desperately short-handed—only five people including himself—so Chu Guang had wisely chosen to turn tail and run. Now, the outpost's population had multiplied dozens of times over, with two hundred and fifty players alone. The situation was completely different from before. Looking at the quest reward of two hundred reward points, Chu Guang couldn't help feeling tempted. Besides, the weapon shop had received another shipment. Over a hundred players were now armed with guns; his forces were truly formidable. If he didn't launch an assault on that mutant tribe now, wouldn't it be an utter waste? It wasn't that he just wanted to open two more advanced blind boxes. The main issue was that those green-skinned muscleheads lived right outside his doorstep. Leaving them there made it impossible to sleep soundly. Looking at the last remaining side quest in the system interface, Chu Guang decided it was time to settle things with those green-skinned muscleheads once and for all. With that in mind, he hesitated no longer. Chu Guang immediately used his VM to draft a quest and sent it to the players near the outpost. [Quest: Raid on the 76th Street Mutant Tribe (Limit: 10 players)] [Briefing: The mutant tribe on 76th Street poses a continuous threat to the safety of the outpost. There is no room for negotiation with savages. We require a swift raid to whittle down their effective strength while probing their defenses. Whatever method you use, kill at least one mutant!] [Level Requirement: Sequence Level LV4 or higher] [Rewards: Individual reward of 15 silver coins for participating in the raid; team pool accumulates 15 silver coins per mutant killed.] Drafting complete. Click send! In less than half a minute, sign-ups surged past forty players. Seeing the high payout, even a bunch of production players had apparently jumped in to try their luck. Based on contributions and levels, Chu Guang carefully filtered out four Strength-types, three Agility-types, two Constitution-types, and one Perception-type player, organizing them into a raid team led by the player with the highest contribution points. Next, Chu Guang deployed the drone over the mutant tribe and beamed aerial reconnaissance feeds straight to the players' VMs. All preparations were complete! The newly formed squad quickly donned their combat gear, slung their weapons over their backs, and marched toward 76th Street. Looking down through the drone's perspective, Chu Guang could clearly see little heads assembling at the entrance of 76th Street. Pity he couldn't micromanage their actions. Otherwise, this would truly feel no different from playing an RTS game... Meanwhile, at the front line. The players gathered at the entrance of 76th Street began formulating an operational plan based on the aerial feeds displayed on their VMs. The mutant tribe was situated inside a residential complex with a domed roof, obscuring the interior from view. Surrounding it were ruins of high-rise buildings, creating intricate terrain that made approach difficult. Beyond that, sentries were scattered all around. These green-skinned muscleheads were remarkably sly, using cover to conceal themselves. Aside from the open-air posts captured by the drone, there were bound to be others hidden in unseen street corners and alleys. Construction Site Youth and Bricks: "Why don't we try dropping stuff from high up? The tallest building nearby has thirty floors. We could go up to the roof and hurl rocks down to crush these brutes to death." A stone dropped from the thirtieth floor packed no less punch than a bullet. A direct hit would mean death or severe crippling at the very least! Battlefield Hype Group: "Great idea, but we don't know whether other mutants are lurking inside the high-rise." Edge Slacker: "Great idea my foot, that's total nonsense. The building is in absolute ruins—how do you even climb up? And even if you do, with the north wind howling like this, who are you gonna hit? It's not like they'll stand still and let you drop rocks on them! Once they react, get ready to be surrounded. In a building that tall, you won't even have a place to run!" Elven King Fugui: "Then what do you propose we do?" Edge Slacker: "I'm Perception-type. I need a Constitution-type player to team up with me and draw aggro. Once we lure the mutants to our ambush point, everyone opens fire and guns them down. I refuse to believe those green-skinned muscleheads can shrug off my seven-millimeter rounds!" Midnight Chicken Slaughter: "I say we charge! My great axe is already thirsting for blood!" In the end, everyone agreed to Edge Slacker's proposal. Eight players took cover behind debris in the central section of 76th Street, while one Constitution-type player and one Perception-type player crept forward cautiously toward the mutant tribe. The plan proceeded smoothly. However, just as the two decoys advanced about one to two hundred meters past the ambush point, disaster struck without warning. Walking in front, Neighbor Old Wang tripped over a tripwire buried in the snow. Before he could react, a tin can hidden beneath a wrecked car detonated instantly. Jagged shrapnel whizzed in all directions, riddling the door of an adjacent car wreck with holes. Trapped between the two vehicle husks, Neighbor Old Wang didn't even have time to utter a dying squawk before being shredded into a sieve by flying metal, collapsing blood-soaked into the snow. The roar of the blast echoed down the frigid, desolate street. Staring at his teammate blown to bits on the spot, Edge Slacker behind him froze in shock. *What the hell?* *Can't Perception-types detect mines?* Perhaps the mine was hidden too well; he hadn't felt the slightest hint of danger. Regardless, what was done was done. Edge Slacker made a split-second decision, lunging forward to retrieve his fallen comrade's VM and revolver rifle, then turned and bolted. Yet danger proved faster still. He had barely taken two steps when an arrow whizzed through the air from afar and sank into his thigh. "Fuck!" His knee buckled, and Edge Slacker stumbled forward, slamming face-first into the snow. Without pausing to inspect his wounded leg, a sudden surge of warning blared in his instincts. He rolled sideways immediately behind the cover of a nearby scrap car. Nearly grazing his shoulder, a second arrow struck right after, embedding itself diagonally into the exact spot where he had just been lying. A chill ran down his spine, and Edge Slacker shuddered. Had he been a fraction of a second slower, he would have been booted straight back to spectate on the official website. Fortunately, the arrow hadn't severed an artery. Gritting his teeth in a grimace, he snapped the shaft. It didn't really hurt. Though watching blood gush out looked rather gruesome. "Holy crap... underestimated them!" Who would have guessed this game's AI had such high intelligence? These mutants actually knew how to launch ambushes! Far from feeling fear, Edge Slacker felt excitement surging through him behind the cover. What was the fun in fighting morons? Clashing against capable foes was worth it, even if he died! Besides, it was just a game—it wasn't like he would actually die. "Aaargh, die for grandpa!" Grabbing his teammate's revolver rifle, Edge Slacker leaned out from cover and, without aiming, pulled the trigger wildly in the direction the arrows had come from, howling all the while. Six rounds emptied in an instant, hitting nothing but empty air. He couldn't even see where the shooter was, let alone hit him. However, while his wild spray didn't land a shot, it did coax the mutant hiding in the shadows out into the open. Perhaps believing it had cornered its prey, or perhaps brimming with confidence in its own might, the mutant stepped out from the shadows. Standing two meters tall with rippling muscles, the creature held a hunting bow in its grip, its right hand hooked on the bowstring. Its hideous visage was cold and savage, like a bloodthirsty beast. Crouched behind cover, Edge Slacker held his breath. *Is this thing even human?* "Open fire! What are you guys waiting for?!" His shout echoed down the street. Though unable to understand the human's words, the mutant paid them no mind, dismissing the shout as the dying wails of prey. It continued closing the distance! Just then, dense gunfire erupted from the other end of the street. Eight rifles over a hundred meters away opened fire simultaneously. Caught completely off guard, the mutant took two hits to the chest, spraying plumes of blood. "*Graaagh!*" Roaring in pain, the wounded mutant dropped flat and rolled behind a roadside bus shelter sign. Minor injuries like this meant nothing to it. So long as the wounds weren't fatal, even broken bones could heal through its formidable regenerative power. It drew its hunting bow to return fire, but right at that moment, a plume of white smoke streaked out from the firing positions in the distance. Before the mutant could react, the white streak slammed into the trash can behind it, and a fist-sized projectile tumbled onto the snow beside it. After a split-second pause, a fiery blast surged into the air, engulfing the mutant in shrapnel and black smoke. Even that didn't kill it outright, but a human brandishing an axe charged into melee right away, howling as he brought the blade down and cleaved its head clean off. "Fall back! Fall back!" "Cover me, I'm grabbing Brother Slacker!" "What about Neighbor Old Wang?!" "He's too far, leave him for now! I have his VM and gun—if we can't drag the body, just leave it!" Under covering fire from his teammates, a Strength-type player hoisted the wounded Edge Slacker onto his shoulder and retreated toward the entrance of 76th Street. Mutant reinforcements were already en route, forcing the operation to end ahead of schedule. Casualties: one dead, one wounded, in exchange for one kill. Clearly, these mutants were far tougher to deal with than anticipated. Not only were they adept at urban combat, but they also knew how to lay traps. Even so, they had managed to take one down. Not a bad trade!