The fallen players were all sent to the morgue. The active substance extractor hummed to life; with so many corpses piled up, it would probably be running until tomorrow morning.
For now, the outpost's active substance reserves were sufficient. Over a dozen casualties was on the high side, but not enough to cripple them.
Of the remaining six heavily injured players, those whose injuries could heal properly obediently went back to lie in their incubation pods to recover.
As for those missing arms or legs, or who wouldn't be able to get out of bed for ten to fifteen days, they simply lined up at the morgue instead.
In any case, their VMs had been retrieved and their gear safely stored. Dying in the battle to defend the outpost carried no death penalty, and even yielded a small bereavement stipend.
Although a few silver coins in compensation was far less than what they could earn by playing normally, it was still a better-than-nothing consolation.
In the end, Chu Guang discovered that out of the six severely injured little players, four had actually finished themselves off.
*These guys really don't hesitate at all...*
Drum Hair Washer: "Wait a second! Can I try jumping off the roof? I haven't done that yet!"
Typing...: "Do you want to scare Xiaoyu to tears?!"
Drum Hair Washer: "Uh, fine, never mind then. I'll just go lie in the furnace..."
With pain shielding active anyway, lying inside alive wasn't any different from lying inside dead.
According to the veterans on the forum, when lying in that iron coffin, you'd feel a little warm at first. Then, before you even started to sweat, *bam*, you disconnected—just like logging off inside an incubation pod.
Chu Guang had little interest in reading about the players' inventive ways of getting themselves killed. What drew his concern was that those mutants actually understood tactics.
If he hadn't decisively ordered a charge and personally stepped forward to eliminate the high-threat targets, the players' casualties would likely have doubled.
At the very least, the few players who had already been pinned down by the mutants would never have survived.
In any case, there was zero room for negotiation between the two sides.
Whenever humans clashed with mutants, it was a fight to the death that would only end when one side was utterly wiped out.
Chu Guang instructed Xiao Qi to add several patrol waypoints to the drone's flight route, designating 76th Street as a priority reconnaissance zone. It would swing by every thirty minutes to snap photos and monitor for any new developments.
However, the mutants were exceedingly cunning. Concealed by vegetation, rubble, and buildings, they were difficult to spot via high-altitude aerial photography.
After the two skirmishes yesterday and today, the mutants of 76th Street had grown noticeably more cautious, pulling their defensive perimeter back to the vicinity of their lair.
Honestly speaking, this didn't feel like typical mutant behavior.
Chu Guang had already felt something was off earlier. Even when his side had clashed with the marauders several times, the mutants of 76th Street had acted as though they hadn't seen a thing, hunkering down in their stronghold without stepping foot outside.
Even now, it remained the same.
Despite the fighting reaching a fever pitch, the mutants stayed primarily on the defensive. They made no aggressive moves and hadn't taken a single step into the forest so far.
Caution alone couldn't explain this.
Recalling the fresh corpses that had inexplicably appeared in piles before their stockade gate, Chu Guang couldn't shake the feeling that their camp guarded some momentous secret.
*Could they be sitting right on top of a Vault?*
Though his mind was full of questions, Chu Guang didn't dare fly the drone too close.
These baffling mysteries would have to wait for further investigation until after the mutants' nest was conquered.
***
In the real world.
Shanghai, 8:00 PM.
Traffic flowed along the roads, streets buzzed with pedestrians, and towering skyscrapers glowed with dazzling neon lights, painting a picture of bustling urban prosperity.
After taking off his helmet and logging off, Fang Chang couldn't sit still at home. With no interest in playing any other game, he headed downstairs for a stroll to catch the evening breeze along the riverbank.
After walking along the street for a bit, the phone in his pocket suddenly buzzed.
Fang Chang pulled it out. The message was actually from Lao Bai.
Lao Bai: [Brother, we took down the first floor of the greenhouse ruins!]
Fang Chang paused, then typed back.
[That fast?!]
Lao Bai: [It was basically just mopping up anyway. There were barely any moths left. By the way, I split the 200 silver coin dungeon payout with Brother Mole and his guys. Ye Shi and I took the priority exploration rights for the second floor aboveground and basement level one. The Administrator gave us seven days of priority this time, so we have plenty of time. We plan to wait until you log on tomorrow before continuing the run.]
Fang Chang: [Sounds good. But why did you log off too?]
Lao Bai: [Hey, didn't I come down just to share the good news with my bro? Didn't want you feeling lonely down here all by yourself. (Grin)]
Fang Chang: [I almost believed that!]
Lao Bai: [Hahaha, alright, no more bullshit. The Administrator called me over just now and said he needs to reassign some hands from the brick factory. I'm heading back in to report.]
Fang Chang rolled his eyes.
Having known the guy for years, he could already picture the smug grin plastered across Lao Bai's face.
Fang Chang: [Go on then! By the way, we can sell the priority exploration right for the second floor to Mole. Hoarding it is pointless since we don't have time to run it, and if it goes to auction after seven days, they take a fifty percent cut. In my opinion, we should focus our efforts on pushing downward, aiming for the backup generator on B9 and the broodmother nest on the tenth floor. No doubt, that's where the good stuff is!]
Lao Bai: [Got it, I'll go ask him in a bit!]
Turning off his screen, Fang Chang felt a twinge of envy.
If that arrow hadn't struck his gut and caused moderate blood loss, he wouldn't have had to lie in an incubation pod for a whole damn day!
Still, there was no helping it.
He wasn't a Constitution-type player, after all; his baseline recovery was barely better than a normal person's. The incubation pods merely granted a recovery bonus rather than actively regenerating damaged tissue.
That was probably the function of a "medical pod."
This game was always ridiculously realistic in the strangest ways.
Whether it was revival cooldowns, wound healing times, or the requirement that avatars had to sleep every day, the operators seemed deathly afraid that players might spend too much time on their servers.
Then again, Fang Chang understood.
In a fully immersive virtual reality game like this, without anti-addiction mechanics, countless people would probably stay glued to it twenty-four hours a day.
He certainly would.
"...If only my body in reality were as strong as the one in the virtual world."
Staring at his right hand, Fang Chang clenched his fist. His fingers itched with an urge to slip that helmet right back on and dive back into the game.
*Forget it, forget it. Might as well walk around a bit more.*
Just then, his eyes landed on a billboard for an archery club.
Intrigued, Fang Chang promptly turned into the adjacent shopping mall, took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and located the club.
Although foot traffic throughout the mall was heavy, the archery club was surprisingly uncrowded.
Fang Chang purchased a voucher on his phone. After verifying it at the desk, he followed a staff member to the indoor shooting range.
Before the attendant could begin his introduction, Fang Chang spoke up with practiced ease.
"Fifty-meter target. Give me a twenty-eight-pound bow."
Located inside an expensive mall, the club's longest range was only fifty meters. Nearby, several children and couples were practicing at the thirty-meter targets. The shorter distance was naturally easier and more suitable for beginners, though plenty of them still managed to shoot their arrows into neighboring targets despite aiming straight ahead.
The staff member gave him a surprised look.
"You've shot before, man?"
A twenty-eight-pound draw was fairly tough for beginners. Twenty-eight was the heaviest bow in the shop; ordinary customers usually picked sixteen or twenty pounds.
"Played around at other places."
Taking the bow, Fang Chang tested the string. He estimated the actual draw weight was around twenty-six pounds; it had probably seen little use and poor maintenance, causing the limbs to lose some elasticity.
Not that it mattered.
Hearing Fang Chang's response, the attendant's eyes lit up, and he immediately launched into a pitch.
"Not bad, brother! Interested in getting a membership card? Our coaches are retired from the provincial archery team, and we even host occasional tournaments. Last month's prize was a thousand yuan!"
Fang Chang chuckled.
Provincial team, huh? Not bad.
Still lacking ambition, though. Other shops bragged that their managers had competed in the Olympics.
Feeling slightly awkward under that smile, the attendant cleared his throat and forcibly shifted to instruction.
"Brother, don't rush into shooting just yet. Your grip isn't quite right—"
*Whoosh—!*
Nocking, drawing, releasing—the entire sequence was as smooth as flowing water.
Seeing the arrow thud dead-center into the bullseye, the pitching attendant froze, looking even more embarrassed. He cleared his throat again and pressed on.
"Nice, man! Lucky shot! But that stance of yours isn't right; it's easy to hurt yourself. How about I show you the proper grip first—"
*Whoosh—!*
Another arrow slammed into the bullseye.
This time, the attendant finally realized the guy was here to smurf. He wisely shut his mouth, deciding to wait until Fang Chang messed up before speaking again.
Fang Chang was never one for idle chatter either. Aiming at the bullseye, he loosed arrow after arrow. Before long, the target fifty meters away was bristling like a hedgehog.
Within one minute, all fifteen arrows were shot!
Not a single one missed the mark!
It wasn't just the attendant who stood dumbfounded; nearby customers watched in awe. When the final arrow struck dead-center, applause broke out.
"Holy crap! That was slick!"
"That accuracy is insane!"
"Fast and accurate!"
"My mind is blown. Did a pro from the provincial team come down here to smurf?"
"Nah, probably some homegrown master. The provincial team doesn't bother with fancy rapid fire like that."
"Hawkeye! Is that you?!"
"You're amazing! Can I get your WeChat? We could shoot together next time!"
Hearing that, Fang Chang turned to the girl and gave her a polite smile.
Shoot together?
Heh.
Could this flimsy bow ever compare to the thrill of his Daybreak?
Among the watching staff, someone held up a phone, having filmed the dazzling display of archery, and uploaded it to a short-video app.
In less than a minute, it racked up over a hundred likes.
"Sigh, these old bones of mine," Fang Chang murmured, glancing at the target fifty meters away as he shook his slightly aching arm. "Out of shape."
What a shame.
His real-world body was simply no match for his avatar in *Wasteland OL*. After just fifteen arrows, his arm was already feeling a bit sore.
Fang Chang estimated his real-world stats were around 4.5 at best—maybe not even that.
After all, he'd spent these past few days entirely inside *Wasteland OL*. At 6:00 PM sharp, he would slip on his helmet and lie down for twelve straight hours until waking up the next morning. He'd never had a habit of eating breakfast to begin with, and ever since getting the helmet, he'd skipped dinner altogether.
Back in the game, he could easily hit a running mutant hyena and sprint after it to deliver the finishing blow.
Just then, the archery club's owner walked over, eyes gleaming as he extended a business card.
"Friend, are you looking for work? The job at our club is very relaxed—just guiding customers on how to shoot. Factoring in commissions on membership sales, you'd make at least ten grand a month!"
A performance like that would definitely go viral if made into short videos!
Wouldn't customers come pouring in then?
In just this brief span, the video his employee had uploaded had already surged from a hundred likes toward a thousand!
"No thanks. I'm used to doing my own thing, not much of an office worker."
Taking the card politely, Fang Chang offered a small smile, returned the bow to the attendant, and turned to leave amid the admiring gazes of the crowd.
***
In the wasteland.
In the outpost's industrial zone, Ya'er I Wanna Go to the Restroom pushed a two-meter-wide cart, charging out from the smoke-belching steel mill in high excitement.
"It worked! Brother Mosquito! I freaking built it again! This time it's definitely gonna run!"
Resting on the cart was a brass-colored machine accompanied by a heap of loose parts. Though it bore no label, one look at the massive boiler made it easy to guess its purpose.
Carrying raw materials toward the small workshop, Mosquito dropped his wooden crate into the snow with a loud *clatter* and gave Brother Toilet Cable an excited thumbs-up.
"You're a beast, brother!"
"Beast or not, hurry up and give me a hand! Let's assemble it and see if we can get it running this time!"
Armed with wrenches and pliers, Ya'er I Wanna Go to the Restroom and WC Really Has Mosquitoes huffed and puffed until they had fully assembled the brass machine.
Firewood was loaded into the hopper.
As the wood gasifier went to work, the separated gas was channeled into the combustion chamber and ignited, beginning to heat the water-filled boiler.
The water gradually began to boil!
Waiting patiently until the needles on both the temperature and pressure gauges reached their thresholds, Mosquito excitedly yanked the lever, opening the steam control valve.
Superheated steam flowed through the main steam valve and throttle valve into the valve chest. Regulated by the slide valve, it alternately entered the left and right sides of the cylinder, driving the piston in rapid motion.
The cooled steam was channeled through piping into the condenser for recovery, condensing back into water before cycling into the boiler to be reheated, repeating the loop.
The piston pumped faster and faster, driving the crank-connecting rod mechanism into motion and converting the reciprocating movement into rotational power along the crankshaft.
Standing nearby, Tengteng watched the whole process, utterly dumbfounded.
It took her a long moment before she managed to squeeze out half a sentence.
"Is this... a textile machine?"
WC Really Has Mosquitoes shouted excitedly, "Nope! This baby's a steam engine!"
"That's right! A steam engine! We built a steam engine using the most primitive tools!" Brother Toilet Cable grasped Mosquito's hand, flushed with excitement. "Brother, your technical skills are insane! What school did you graduate from?"
"Ah, I graduated ages ago. My day job is selling furniture; I just like tinkering with fun gadgets when I'm bored. But you—your hands-on skill is way better than any student I've ever seen! Put it on the right track, and you've got a bright future ahead!"
"Haha, give me your contact info! Let's chat on WeChat!"
"Wait till we log off. I'll shoot you a PM on the forum."
"Deal!"
"...?"
Watching the two men completely forget about their customer and chatter away in mutual admiration, Tengteng was on the verge of tears from sheer exasperation.
*I waited nearly an entire week just for this???*
*What in the hell does this steam engine have to do with my order for a textile machine?!*
Chapter 132