The Survivors of Qingquan City

A distant roll of thunder shattered the tranquility of Qingquan City. Behind ruins buried beneath a veil of snow, within Boulder City situated on the edge of the Third Ring Road, people walking through the streets and alleys raised their heads one after another. "What was... that sound?" "Thunder during a snowstorm is pretty rare." "That wasn't thunder... sounded more like something blowing up." "To the north? I heard fighting's been going on there for a while." "It won't reach Qingquan City, will it? There's nothing good here for those hillbillies to covet anyway." "You already called them hillbillies, and you still expect them not to covet what you have?" "Even if the fighting does reach us, so what? Master Fang will definitely have a way!" One could not see very far from here. The "citizens" capable of surviving in the inner city would never venture outside. The poor living at the foot of the concrete walls did scavenge outside, but they rarely went far. In a corner bar, a handful of worldly mercenaries discerned something from the explosions, yet they merely shook their heads and continued sipping beer whose bitterness had been diluted with water, lacking even the interest to discuss it. Whatever was happening out there had nothing to do with them. Even if a pile of mercenary contracts opened up, in this damned weather, traveling from the edge of the Third Ring Road to Qingquan City's northern suburbs was entirely unrealistic. After all, poor devils like them had no chance of flying out on an aircraft... *** In the center of the inner city. On the top floor of a pitch-black skyscraper. A man in a crisp suit stood before a floor-to-ceiling window, an immaculate expression on his face. From here, one naturally could not see the northern suburbs of Qingquan City. Boulder City was cradled by a ring of towering high-rises; gazing in any direction yielded only a gray expanse of ruins. However... His eyes were not limited to this room. Staring at his reflection in the glass, he muttered under his breath, "They even brought out a nuke." A voice answered beside his ear. "Yes, my lord." "And the outcome? Who won?" "It appears to be Enterprise's people." The man nodded. The Legion possessed formidable combat strength, but they were pinned down by the forces of the Great Ravine. Enterprise had fewer personnel, yet held the advantage in both equipment and logistics. The initial odds of victory had been forty to sixty, but the moment the tactical nuke dropped, they shifted to thirty to seventy. Without a stronger trump card, a Legion defeat was only natural. Of course, that was an analysis from a spectator's perspective. War and poker differed greatly; even a one-in-ten chance of winning was still a possibility. Even so... The casinos would probably be lively today. Those who had bet on the Legion to win were bound to lose a fortune. "Should we intervene?" the voice beside his ear inquired. "If the Legion's centurion is still alive, buy him out. When the Legion's envoy arrives, it can serve as a favor." The voice continued, "And if he's dead?" "Then send Enterprise our regards, and remind them to use radioactive weaponry sparingly. Cleaning up after those things is a massive headache." Whether it was the Legion or Enterprise, it was best not to get tangled up in their conflict. This was River Valley Province; both factions were far too distant from their home territories. "We'd better stay out of their mess. Offending either side is trouble, and pleasing either brings no benefit." "Still, it is happening on our turf." "Send someone to mediate." *** Brown Farm. Gazing at the distant flames rising into the sky, the farm owner hid inside his manor, shivering uncontrollably as he mumbled incessantly. "A nuke... a tactical nuke..." His young daughter looked at her father in confusion. "Dad?" "Don't worry, darling," his wife said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's very far from us." "Get lost!" The man lashed out furiously. The back of his hand accidentally caught his young daughter across the face, knocking her head flying. Electric sparks crackled from the severed neck. The wife paused briefly, let out a soft sigh, and silently walked over to retrieve the head. Seeing the head rolling across the floor, the man froze, quickly regaining his composure, though he couldn't help muttering under his breath. "Damn it... don't tell me another war is starting." "We've already spent enough money this year! Just give me some peace and quiet!" *** Bet Street. A crowd of survivors looked toward the sky in the distance. Looking toward Ling Lake from here, only a tiny beam of light was visible. Many emerged from their shacks, whispering as they stared at the distant glow. Yu Hu glanced at his older brother and asked in a low voice, "Bro, what's that?" Yu Xiong frowned. "Not sure. Judging by the distance, it doesn't look like Ling Lake. Seems farther out... Yumu District, maybe?" To the survivors of Bet Street, that was a rather unfamiliar name. They had only heard it occasionally from scavengers arriving from the north—reportedly an old urban district covered by forest, where let alone useful scrap, one couldn't even find an intact brick. In his entire life, Yu Xiong had only been there once while tracking a herd of deer. On his return journey, he had taken quite a detour to steer clear of Bloodhand's men. Yu Hu blinked. "Is it far from Big Brother Chu and the others?" Yu Xiong nodded. "Pretty far, around twenty kilometers." "Oh, that's fine then." Yu Hu breathed a sigh of relief, scratching the back of his head. "I'll go visit Xiaoyu tomorrow. She's been away from home for a while now." Yu Xiong missed his little sister as well. "Go see her. Hope she's doing well over there." Yu Hu said, "Bro, how about we go together?" "Count me out. The guard corps still needs training, and we have daily patrol duties." Yu Xiong ruffled his brother's hair. "When you have free time, go over to the castle to learn some words. You've got time in the winter anyway." *The schoolhouse Old Charlie opened?* *Isn't that just for kids?* Yu Hu recalled that everyone inside was under sixteen. Their parents only sent them to learn writing and arithmetic to save on a couple of meals. "Why would I learn that stuff..." Yu Hu said, dumbfounded. Yu Xiong didn't know how to explain it either. After all, he was illiterate himself and had only learned to write his own name after attending night classes recently. He could only offer a vague reply. "Regardless, it's something Big Brother Chu set up. Just go learn; it'll definitely be useful." *** At the outpost several kilometers away. Hearing the noise, Xia Yan leaned on her crutch and walked out of the weapons shop. Gazing at the flickering light in the northern sky, she muttered blankly, "...A tactical nuke? These guys are fighting way too fiercely." Tactical nukes with yields under one ton could be purchased with chips in Boulder City, though few ever bought them. For one, they were expensive. For another, they were dangerous. Many mutants were eager to make their homes in heavily irradiated zones. Highly perilous mutants like split-claw crabs, night demons, and death scorpions were particularly fond of them; the radioactive energy made them wildly agitated—and ferocious—as if they had taken drugs. If detonated in an urban area, the site usually became a breeding ground for Gnawers and Crawlers. If in the outskirts, there was no telling what bizarre species might be lured in. Just then, Xia Yan noticed a small figure standing at the entrance of the sanatorium, gazing at the northern sky just like her. The torchlight at the doorway flickered. Even across the distance, she could see those large, dark eyes filled with fear and worry. With a sigh, she walked over and placed a hand on Xiaoyu's head. "What was that?" Xiaoyu asked in a small voice. Softening her tone in a rare show of gentleness, Xia Yan comforted her, "Nothing good... but don't worry. They're all very strong; nothing will happen to them. Go back inside now, it's getting late." *** Due to the sudden detonation of a tactical nuke, panic spread among all the survivors in Qingquan City's northern suburbs. Though hotheads occasionally tossed a nuke to blow up mutants, those had far smaller yields—usually a few hundred kilograms or around one ton—and made nowhere near this much noise. Some claimed the Legion was invading from the north. Yet no one could explain why the Legion would come to this godforsaken place. Others claimed a super mutant had appeared, and local survivors had detonated a tactical nuke to save their lives. Yet nobody could recall any survivor settlement in the northern suburbs capable of taking down a super mutant. In stark contrast, the official website of *Wasteland OL* was bustling like a holiday festival. In truth, in-game events were practically indistinguishable from holidays for the players. On the forum: Quitting Smoking: "Holy crap, I'm completely broken! Walked ten whole kilometers, didn't even catch a glimpse of the construction site, and an artillery shell took me straight out! (Crying)" Elaina: "Two minutes of fighting, two hours of running—definitely *Squad*, confirmed. (Doge)" Ye Shi: "Yo, Old Monk, you're back down here again?" Elaina: "Call me Old Monk one more time! (`Д′＊)9" Scavenger Lv99: "Freaking epic! I'm totally hyped, hahahaha! I hit the trench with a sliding tackle and went on a claw rampage! Too bad those trash mobs had zero martial ethics and blew me up with a bundle of grenades!" WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Next time that boiler's gonna cost money. Nothing crazy, just cost price—100 silver coins will do. (Side-eye)" Scavenger Lv99: "Damn it! That's highway robbery!" Ye Shi: "So many familiar IDs. By the way, how many of us died this time?" Elaina: "At least twenty. When I dropped, a whole row in front of me had collapsed... Hey, spraying with that assault rifle felt amazing though. Rushed forward and went rat-tat-tat. Too bad I still had two magazines left unfired, total loss. (Doge)" Xiao Xiao Xiao Bookworm: "Definitely more than twenty. Might even break a hundred this time! Waiting for a bro who got finished off by friendly fire to drop down." Makka Pakka: "Hahahahaha! That's what you get for laughing at me, suckers! Now you're all down here keeping me company, aren't you?" Ye Shi: "Quit bragging. At least we died in a team fight. Once the loot is tallied in a bit, we'll get paid. Totally worth it, imo. (Doge)" Elaina: "True, the scene was magnificent, an absolute feast for the eyes. Especially the charge right behind the power armor at the end. Totally worth it to me too. (Doge)" Makka Pakka: "#&@!" Even Brother Scavenger had taken the field; Makka Pakka was utterly demoralized. The forum filled with a jovial atmosphere once more as everyone speculated about the final haul from this major battle. Buying a set of power armor was unrealistic. In other games, that gear would require at least level thirty; there was no hoping for it in the early game. Buying a gun, however, should be feasible, right? After a long wait, around noon in the real world, someone finally posted an after-action report from the front line. Elven King Fugui: "Brothers, I got finished off! A total of 117 killed, more than half of us died—it was brutal! But the enemy had it way worse. I heard not a single one of the two thousand-plus corpses pulled from the trenches was in one piece! We probably struck it rich this time though: captured five light trucks, and who knows how many supplies are stocked in the fortifications! Now it just depends on how the spoils are split!" Ye Shi: "Heh heh, my expectations aren't high. Just hoping it's enough for me to buy that assault rifle. If not, even letting me buy that red dot sight separately would work. A gun with a sight versus without one is practically two different weapons." WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Agreed!" Scavenger Lv99: "You agree my ass! You're the most cowardly of all. Every gun you buy just sits hoarding in the warehouse, you never bring them out!" WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Damn it! Didn't I come down here to keep you guys company?!" Scavenger Lv99: "Don't act like I didn't see. Your improvised grenade blew up on you!" Ye Shi: "Pfft." Makka Pakka: "Hahahahaha!" WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "Screw you!" Either way, the battle had been thoroughly thrilling. As for the loot, worrying about it was pointless anyway; that was up to the game's code. Everyone expressed their sole wish: that the developer daddy would show some mercy and offer a bit more death condolence pay, considering who knew how long they would have to wait to log back in. Their demands were modest—200 silver coins sounded reasonable. If it could reach 300, even better. Later, the conversation on the forum gradually became dominated by Paradox strategy gamers and armchair theorists, ranging from whether a machine gunner should advance or retreat five meters to which faction was stronger in the game's lore: the Legion or Enterprise. One faction hailed from the far west, the other from the far east; normally they would never cross paths. Yet neither had likely anticipated that their forces would clash in the central River Valley Province. According to materials published on the official website, the Legion seemed to favor human-wave doctrine complemented by other land doctrines. The detachment encountered today, for instance, showcased the most standard combination: clone light infantry plus trench fortifications, with two artillery pieces representing superior firepower doctrine. Their advantages lay in low logistical burden and locked morale. These clone infantrymen fought as if brainwashed—or lacked fully developed human minds altogether—preferring to throw their lives away rather than surrender. As for Enterprise, they had likely adopted the "mobile warfare" land doctrine. Their forces consisted entirely of high-tech units armed to the teeth, boasting high mobility, heavy armor, night-vision equipment, and air support... Even if it was merely a single light fixed-wing aircraft, it was still better than nothing. On the surface, the latter appeared to hold a clear advantage, their combined gear being far more costly. Yet their performance on the battlefield seemed less invincible than their raw stat sheet suggested. Once the power armor sliced through the Legion's first line of defense like a hot knife through butter, it quickly ran into an awkward problem. There was no one behind them to follow up. Fountain Commander: "...The *Pioneer* can only be considered a scientific expedition team at best. Their soldiers aren't professional military; they're more like adventurers. Fighting like this is already impressive. If it were two standing armies clashing, this problem wouldn't exist at all. Would Enterprise headquarters lack light infantry? I don't buy it." Lightning King Professor Yang: "Heh, on a real front line, they'd face hundreds or tens of thousands of Legion troops on the scale of today's force. If they can build artillery, is building an engine hard? They wouldn't even need ultra-high tech—slap a World War II-level tank chassis together, mount a railgun on top, and it'd definitely be cheaper than power armor." Million-Strong Army Lindenwan: "A full-scale war wouldn't happen. Across an entire continent, how long would the supply lines have to stretch? Besides, with the wasteland's terrain, crawling with guerrilla mutant beasts all the way, non-combat attrition would be maxed out." Canned Seafood Merchant: "Speaking of which, why didn't they take the sea route? The sea is obviously easier to traverse than land." Venetian Duke Watching the Sea: "Maybe there are threats at sea too." Lying on the Grave Scaring Ghosts: "Oh right, true... If a Cthulhu-level sea monster shows up, even ten *Pioneers* would probably be screwed." Elven King Fugui: "Ahem, stop arguing. How strong they are just depends on how the devs set the stats, right?" That hit the nail on the head. Yet no one paid him any attention. The game was still in closed beta, the version number only at Alpha. Every patch felt like an entirely new game; heaven only knew what ridiculous things would be introduced next. No one could say for sure.