Red Names! Bounty Quest!

Noisy static crackled over the airwaves— "Hello, everyone! This is the Voice of Boulder City. Before we dive into kam tree cultivation tips and how scavengers can strike it rich, please allow me to interrupt with a delightful piece of news. "Just north of us, near Huayuan Street Subway Station on the edge of Qingquan City's Fifth Ring Road, our very own Captain Prit and his Black Snake Mercenary Group have finally brought the butcher's knife down on that bunch of northern suburban rednecks. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, what a bloodbath! At the exact moment those hicks lit their powder kegs and blew the gnawers sky-high, our utterly shameless Captain Prit opened fire without so much as a greeting. Those folks dropped like frostbitten green wheat. Those poor saps toiled away for an entire week for the treasure hidden beneath the subway, and now not only has someone else snatched the fruits of their labor, but they’ve paid for it with their lives! "Once again, this proves how crucial it is to hire reliable bodyguards for your personal safety! Regrettably, we have no reliable military contractors to recommend today, simply because nobody paid for an endorsement! However, while we don't have contractors to recommend, this station has launched a special quiz contest with prizes! "Number one: What fine goodies are hidden beneath Huayuan Street Subway Station? "Number two: How many did Captain Prit take down in total? "Number three: What are the casualties of the Black Snake Mercenary Group? "Boulder City Central Casino guarantees this wager! Just one chip enters you into all three bets! Answer all three correctly, and you'll walk away with the grand prize valued at one hundred thousand chips, plus three nights in a VIP suite at the Central Casino Hotel! Anyone who wants to make a fortune had better act fast! Opportunity knocks but once!" The battered radio sitting on the bar counter replayed the slick, mocking banter over and over. The stench of burning low-grade tobacco blended with the sharp sting of alcohol, thick enough to choke any newcomer. The dance floor's pole remained perpetually vacant; even the cheapest dancing girls couldn't endure the foul air, leaving only thoroughly plastered drunks to stumble up and put on an impromptu performance now and then. This was the Two-Tailed Rat Tavern, one of hundreds of watering holes in Boulder City, tucked away in the deepest and least conspicuous recesses of a dingy alleyway. Its patrons were mercenaries and scavengers who lived in nearby basements or flophouses. The watered-down beer sold here was immensely popular; for a single chip, one could sit at the bar and drink away a whole night's miseries, and as long as your skin was thick enough, no one would kick you out. Of course, if watered-down beer tasted too thin, one could opt for equally cheap industrial alcohol. A small dose wouldn't kill you, though you'd best be careful not to get dragged off by some burly brute while passed out. While some might indulge such things intentionally, one shouldn't risk it without a peculiar taste or a plan to fleece the other guy. There were no bouncers here; the bartender only poured drinks, washed glasses, and scrubbed the floor. So long as nobody died, the guards outside rarely bothered to intervene. Listening to the radio broadcast, a group of mercenaries shouted boisterously, naked envy dripping from every word. "Captain Prit? Hahaha! That shameless dog has sunk low enough to ambush a bunch of scavengers!" "Shh, keep it down before his old pals hear you. You're not the host of the Voice of Boulder City with a big boss backing you up." "Huayuan Street Subway Station? Never heard of it." "Who cares what it is? What good stuff could the northern outskirts possibly have? The scavengers out there would scrape moss off the walls just to lick it clean!" "I put down ten chips! The Black Snakes take zero casualties!" "The payout's too high for that, and who's to say they won't fix the match themselves? I bet one of 'em dies." While the Black Snake Mercenary Group wasn't the biggest outfit in Boulder City, and Captain Prit was hardly a top-tier powerhouse, everything was relative. Against a band of rednecks scrounging through trash in the northern outskirts—scavengers who could barely scrape together a few pipe rifles—let alone the heavily armed Black Snakes, any man sitting in this tavern had enough confidence to teach them a lesson. Hardly anyone doubted Prit and his men would win. The only suspense was whether they'd suffer an unprecedented casualty, and what lay hidden beneath Huayuan Street Subway Station. It wasn't just the idle patrons in Boulder City who were curious; Prit himself harbored just as much curiosity. Yet his client hadn't shared many details regarding the mission, telling him only to look out for a set of power armor inside Vault 117 and a black briefcase. Prit genuinely wanted to know: since this client knew the underground situation like the back of their hand—as if having seen it with their own eyes—why hadn't they taken the items back then? However, as a hired gun, he had no right to question the client, nor had he ever seen the client's face. So far, he had received only two things: a deposit paid through an arms broker, and a magnetic keycard to unlock the door. Perhaps once the mission concluded successfully, the client would buy him a drink. That was a big shot who could afford airfare. It would be wonderful to make their acquaintance if the opportunity arose. "Squads A and B, advance with me. Squad C, set up a defensive perimeter along the street and eliminate any survivors who approach this area. "Karl, keep watch from the upper floor. If you spot a target worth hitting, you're cleared to fire provided you don't compromise your position. "We are only four kilometers from their outpost. A suit of power armor plus over a dozen dead men is more than enough to drive them mad. "Wrap this up fast. Everyone move! Double-time!" Fifteen mangled corpses lay sprawled haphazardly across the street, mingling with the dead gnawers. Prit reloaded his rifle, threw a crisp hand signal to advance, and personally led the other three members of Squad A toward the subway station entrance below. Having learned in advance that the opposition had an Awakened with intuition abilities, Prit had positioned his three squads five hundred meters out while the survivors were setting up their formation. The moment the powder kegs detonated and the survivors charged in with melee weapons, he immediately ordered all three squads to open fire, unleashing a barrage from three directions at once. It had been a complete slaughter. Those survivors, engaged in hand-to-hand combat against mutants using cold steel, had stood zero chance of fighting back! Aside from a scattered few who fled into the subway, the rest had been either cut down by gunfire or tackled and savaged to death by the gnawers. A textbook ambush. Everything had gone so smoothly that it wasn't even worth celebrating. Eight tactical flashlights clicked on simultaneously, illuminating the subway station's interior like broad daylight. Cracked concrete walls were overrun by slime mold, and specks of dust floated through the chilly, damp air, carrying a foul stench of decay. Wherever gnawers roamed, traces of mutant slime mold followed. The wasteland's complex and diverse ecology provided ample nutrients; the remains of any creature, or even their waste, could serve as a fertile breeding ground. Squads A and B numbered eight men in total. Led by Captain Prit, the group advanced cautiously toward Vault 117, their weapons barking intermittently to put down the few stray gnawers barring their path. Thanks to the survivors' days of hard work, they reached the platform edge from the security checkpoint with practically no effort. Train cars sat buckled and jammed together, nearly choking the tunnel. Clearly, a catastrophic traffic collision had occurred here in the past. However, events from more than two centuries ago meant nothing to Prit and his men. The entrance to Vault 117 sat midway through the tunnel. They were only three hundred meters from their objective. Victory was in sight! At that very moment, inside an abandoned train car stalled beside the platform. The three surviving players listened to the approaching footsteps and instinctively held their breath, terrified to make a sound. Flashlight beams swept from the platform into the car, skimming right over their scalps. Fortunately, they weren't spotted. After searching for a moment, the light swung toward the front of the train. A sudden burst of gunfire made the three players tense up. However, the bullets weren't meant for them; they slammed into a gnawer wandering near the front of the carriage. Accompanied by the clinking of spent brass and the thud of the gnawer hitting the floor, hurried footsteps and flashlight beams moved into the adjacent car, passed through the sheared hull, and entered the tunnel beyond. Listening to the fading footsteps, the three finally exhaled a long breath. Wiping sweat from his brow as he leaned against the car wall, Brother Mole couldn't resist whispering, "Mosquito, what branch are you again?" "Agility!" "Damn it, you're Agility-type too?" "I heard Agility-types run fast..." "Motherfucker, just great. Three Agility-types stuck down here in the dark like blind bats," Zhang Hai cursed under his breath, his right hand clutching his buttocks, drenched in blood. "Any of you got a bandage I can use?" Mosquito and Brother Mole exchanged a look, then glanced back at this exceptionally needy newbie. "How about you just charge out and feed?" "Got anything valuable? Leave it with me for now, and I'll bring it back for you." Zhang Hai swapped hands, rolling his eyes. "Piss off. I haven't saved my progress yet. Dying here would wipe out all of today's gains, wouldn't it?" Ignoring him, Mosquito turned to Brother Mole. "What do we do now?" Brother Mole ground his teeth, falling into thought. "Tough call... These guys are geared to the teeth, and we didn't bring good equipment today. Poking our heads out now is suicide." Mosquito couldn't help saying, "So we just sit here and watch them hijack our quest?" Zhang Hai, still clutching his rear to stem the bleeding, suddenly chimed in, "Not necessarily." Both turned to look at him, asking in unison, "What do you mean?" Zhang Hai grinned. "I've run this route tons of times. There's a crawler lurking further inside. I figured that thing was too tough to handle, so I left it alone. Walk a bit further, and they're bound to run into it. If we tail them quietly, we might be able to swoop in for the scraps." Mosquito's eyes lit up, and even Brother Mole praised the idea. "Not bad." Yet before the words had even settled, a piercing screech echoed from up the tunnel, followed immediately by a deafening explosion. The three froze, then dropped into a crouch and peeked half their heads out to look ahead. Flames roared down the tunnel. A mercenary knelt half-crouched in the center of the tracks, an RPG launcher resting on his shoulder. A short distance ahead of him stood that very crawler! The players' faces turned pale all at once. "Holy crap..." "Fuck me, they even brought an RPG?!" Clutching his rear, Zhang Hai stared slack-jawed, muttering in despair, "It's over. We're completely done for." If even a crawler couldn't slow them down— Right then, both Mosquito's and Brother Mole's VMs buzzed in unison. The pair hastily tapped on their screens. The moment their eyes hit the display, shock gave way to sheer, incredulous delight. Zhang Hai didn't have a VM, so he leaned over curiously. "What's up? Let me see... Holy shit?!" A quest notification window hovered on the screen. [Bounty Quest: Red Name Bounty] [Description: A group of despicable scoundrels has ambushed and brutally murdered our companions. Their locations have been marked on the map, and visual data has been updated in your quest log. Take them down—dead or alive!] [Reward: 200 silver coins and 200 contribution points per target] Staring at the reward, Zhang Hai nearly jammed his eyeballs into the screen. Two hundred silver coins?! Is... is this the world of top-tier players?! ... At the entrance of Huayuan Street Subway Station. Stationed behind a light machine gun, Lambert glanced at the pile of bodies on the ground, then out at the silent, desolate street in the distance, and slowly took a deep breath. Right then, a teammate's voice came through the comm channel. "Damn it... It's too quiet out here." "It's winter, after all, and it was snowing just a moment ago." "You think those people will come?" "Maybe, maybe not. I'd rather they didn't come here to throw their lives away. In this godforsaken weather, the price of everything is climbing, and bullets don't come cheap." Lambert said nothing. Though he agreed with the sentiment, avoiding a fight seemed next to impossible. Over a dozen lives. That might be nothing to Boulder City, but for those northern suburban hicks, losing this many prime working men was enough to make them lose their minds. When it was time to pull out later, there would likely be a bloodbath. Just then, Karl's voice came over the comms. "...Squad C, heads up. Suspected hostile targets are approaching your position." "Bearing?" "Due north... No, wait... Not just north; there's another squad to the west." Karl's voice carried a hint of surprise as he continued, "They seem to be split into teams of three or four. You'd better watch out. These people are well-organized. Their gear might not be top-notch, but they're a whole lot better equipped than the rookies we just wiped out." "Can you confirm their numbers?" "Roughly thirty." Hearing that it was only thirty, the four members of Squad C holding the surface let out a collective sigh of relief. The squad leader spoke into the channel: "Keep a close eye on them for us. If you spot any high-threat targets, take them out." Karl replied: "Copy that. I've got eyes on them. Be careful." Only thirty. A bit more than ideal, but well within expectations. The only thing that surprised Lambert was that these people had responded faster than anticipated. From Ling Lake Wetland Park to this spot was at least four kilometers. Given the treacherous wasteland terrain, unless they had set off the very second the first gunshot rang out, there was no way they could have entered Karl's field of view this quickly. To mobilize so many people in such a short window... Just how had they pulled it off? ... Lambert would never figure out the answer to that question. With over a dozen players disconnecting in rapid succession, Chu Guang had sensed something was wrong the instant the attack occurred, immediately dispatching the Hummingbird drone stationed at the outpost to investigate. Looking at the mangled corpses strewn across the ground, Chu Guang—who had been planning the relocation of No. 81 Steel Mill—flew into a towering rage. Where the hell did these bastards come from?! How dare they touch my ruins? Without another word, Chu Guang dropped a quest marker onto the map and slapped a red-name bounty on every target tracked by the drone! At the same time, almost every player near the outpost carrying a VM received a pop-up window for the bounty quest. And almost everyone's eyes widened in unison. Two hundred silver and two hundred contribution points per head! Did the Administrator really not accidentally add an extra zero when posting the quest?! Vault Floor B2, Central Plaza. Having just revived, Tail tugged at Sisi, waving the VM in her hand with excitement. "Si! Quick, quick, look at the VM! This quest is awesome—the title is even in red! Let's go do it!" Being yanked back and forth, Sisi looked thoroughly listless. "Tail, are you sure? We only came back to life a few minutes ago." "So what? Tail feels great! Si, perk up! You've been asleep for three whole days!" As if sleeping three days was a good thing. Without her helmet, she didn't even know how she had survived those three days. At night she lay with her eyes wide open unable to sleep, and during the day she felt like she was floating through the air. Looking at the energetic Tail, Sisi sighed. "I say... have you mixed up which world is the real one?" Tail said dismissively, "Doesn't matter! The real world sucks!" Sisi: "..." Greenhouse ruins. Ye Shi, who had been munching on dry rations, suddenly leaped up as if he had discovered a new continent. "Holy shit, Fang Chang! Check your VM!" "I see it," Fang Chang said, sitting on the ground and stroking his chin in thought as he stared at the VM screen. "Though it's strange... Why would NPCs have red names too?" "Does that even matter? Two hundred silver a pop." Gale Force 8's eyes gleamed, his right hand itching for action. "True, we can't just ignore a reward like that... By the way," Fang Chang looked at Ye Shi, "I remember you saying in the group chat yesterday that when you went to watch Brother Mole's group, you felt like someone was watching them?" Ye Shi scratched the back of his head. "Uh, I wasn't really sure, actually. I just suddenly had this feeling that something had its eyes on us." Fang Chang fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. If my analysis is correct, we might have missed a hidden side quest." The other three were stunned. Especially Ye Shi. "Wh-what do you mean?" Fang Chang mused, "Nothing much. I just suspect the people watching you yesterday are probably the same bunch as the red-named units who ambushed Brother Mole and the others today." Ye Shi was amazed. "Damn, this game is that realistic?" "Just a theory. As for the specifics, probably only Brother Guang knows. In any case, we should pay more attention to clues like that in the future; they might lead to big payoffs." With that, Fang Chang rose to his feet, reached out to grab the mechanical compound bow leaning against the wall, and gave the bowstring a light test pull as a warm-up. "Let's move." "The hunt is about to begin." In the brief time they spent chatting, a hundred players had already accepted the quest, more than half of them Level 5, and the number was still climbing. It was a good thing half the server had headed off toward the new map. Otherwise, with only twelve targets available... Anyone arriving late wouldn't even get a drop of the broth!