Relocation Plan and Reinforcements

"Has the war gotten that tense already?" Staring at the deep-blue power armor Chu Guang was wearing, Night Owl, whose mouth could never stay idle, couldn't resist murmuring under his breath. Not catching his meaning, Du Conglin tilted his head slightly and asked hesitantly, "What do you mean?" "Putting that thing on first thing in the morning," Night Owl said, glancing at the suit of power armor and clicking his tongue. "If it were me, I wouldn't stroll around the house in such a clunky contraption." *You should at least save it for traveling far.* Walking beside him, Duolu couldn't help sneering, "Heh, do you even have one?" Night Owl glared at him. Just as he was about to retort, the Administrator's voice came from up ahead. "We're here." They had arrived at the outpost's reception room. They had been here yesterday, and had even watched a "movie" at Old Luka's invitation. After asking everyone to take a seat, Chu Guang walked over to stand before them. Because he was wearing power armor, he did not sit down with the rest of them, choosing instead to speak standing up. "Regarding the relocation, my subordinates should have conveyed our proposal to you last night. I'd like to know what you all think." The room fell silent for a moment. After a brief pause, Brown slowly raised his head and asked, "Is this a discussion, or an ultimatum?" Chu Guang looked at him. "The former, of course. Even if you have plans of your own, so long as you don't defect to our enemies, we will not interfere in any way." There was another meaning behind those words. Namely: we will also not be responsible for your safety, much less send reinforcements if you are attacked. The survivors in the room exchanged glances, troubled looks crossing their faces. Seeing their hesitation, Chu Guang continued, "I know what you're worried about. For example, whether living under another's roof means facing unfair treatment, or whether we will honor our word and guarantee your safety. "It's only human nature to have these concerns. Out of prudence, my subordinates did not make promises to you on my behalf. Here and now, in my capacity as Administrator of Shelter 404, I give you my word: any survivor who relocates to Changjiu Farm will receive the equal protection of Shelter 404's laws and live with dignity under our order." When Chu Guang made this declaration, the survivors seated in the room began whispering among themselves in hushed voices. Some were already swayed, while others still wavered, but it was clear that their attitudes had begun to shift. Just as Chu Guang said, as outsiders, they worried about only two things. First, whether they would be treated fairly; second, whether their safety would truly be guaranteed "as promised." For now, the first point was hardly a concern. These bluecoats had even taken in nomads; there was no reason they would treat them any differently. As for the second point, it went without saying. Though they lacked a direct grasp of the shelter residents' true strength, having power armor meant they were undeniably formidable. Aligning oneself with the strong was never a bad thing, so long as it was worth it. For smaller survivor settlements with fragmented authority, latching onto a powerful thigh was vastly better than being left to fend for themselves like orphans. However, a proposal that sounded friendly to the other survivors was far less appealing to a certain landowner. The noncommittal attitudes on the faces of the other survivor representatives made Brown tense. If everyone except him accepted the olive branch extended by Shelter 404, would his opinion even matter? He could practically foresee his fate. God only knew if these bluecoats would seize the chance to settle scores over the protection fees he had paid to the Bloodhand Clan, ransacking his home and scorching his fields before the Bone Chewer Tribe even set their sights on him. No one could guarantee such a thing wouldn't happen. "Will you keep your promise?" Looking at Chu Guang, Brown asked nervously, "I've heard rumors that you invaded Bet Street." The moment the words left his mouth, Brown regretted them, but it was already too late to take them back. The survivors in the room broke into whispers. Ignoring the murmurs, Chu Guang looked straight at Brown. The moment their eyes met, Brown fearfully averted his gaze. "Invaded? If you had ever been there, you wouldn't say such a thing. "When our people arrived at Bet Street, the residents opened the gates of their own accord and welcomed us. We brought an end to a bloodsucker's rule, returned the street to its people, and gave them a new order to live under. Today, they no longer have to endure the old mayor's extortion, nor do they have to carve out their own flesh to feed a pack of jackals that can never be sated. "Rather than call it an invasion, I prefer to call it a liberation." The reception room fell deathly quiet. At Chu Guang's latter remark, many of the survivors flushed red, shame spreading across their faces. Carving out their own flesh to feed a pack of jackals that could never be sated—wasn't that describing them to a tee? If not for paying protection fees to the Bloodhand Clan, they wouldn't have had to scrape through this winter in such dire straits. "You and your residents are honorable people. I have never doubted that." Du Conglin looked at Chu Guang and continued solemnly, "The vanguard of the Bone Chewers has already reached the outskirts of Qingquan City. The crisis is imminent, and the situation no longer permits us to remain divided. Our Morning Wind Community is willing to accept your resettlement, and we are deeply grateful that you are willing to take us in." "Same here," Night Owl raised his hand from beside him. "The hundred households of Highway Town have no objections!" The other survivors nodded one after another, expressing their agreement. Brown had wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn't dare speak up, swallowing the words right on the tip of his tongue. Only Duolu couldn't resist chiming in quietly. "Could you outline the specifics of the resettlement plan... I mean, regarding property?" Chu Guang looked at him. "Of course. That's exactly what I was about to cover. I will show you that accepting our arrangement is by no means a bad thing." With that, Chu Guang produced a map and drew a circle between northern Ling Lake and Yumu District, enclosing a vast tract of land. "From northern Ling Lake to Yumu District is a full ten kilometers, with over a hundred thousand mu of usable land. I have conducted field surveys of this area. It boasts abundant freshwater resources and fertile soil—an excellent place for farming. Although there are mutant jackals, mutant hyenas, and even split-claw crabs active in the area, it isn't an issue. Our patrols will eliminate those threats for you. "I expect you to relocate to Changjiu Farm, where the garrison and perimeter walls will provide maximum security. Come spring, I will allocate farmland to you. In addition, the timberlands of Yumu District will be open to you as well. It serves as a natural hunting ground and is currently one of our primary sources of meat. "All of your property remains entirely your own; we will not confiscate a thing. You need only observe two rules: first, obey our laws; second, use our currency within our territory. If you have any further questions, you may raise them now." Hearing this, Brown spoke up immediately. "What about slaves? Slaves are part of our property too, but your laws don't seem to recognize slavery." Anticipating that someone would ask, Chu Guang smoothly rolled out the explanation he had prepared. "Shelter 404 upholds equality. We advocate wage labor and prohibit anyone from enslaving others in any form. Naturally, we will not ask you to relinquish ownership of your slaves without compensation. You may free them voluntarily, or sell them to us. Here, one able-bodied adult between sixteen and thirty-five years of age can be exchanged for five mu of farmland, and all others for three mu. "They will be organized into pioneer teams as semi-freemen, undergoing ideological reform through labor alongside our captives. After a set period, they will re-enter our society as freemen." Expecting these wastelanders to grasp the merits of wage labor and voluntarily release their slaves was unrealistic; they lacked the ideological awareness, and the wasteland lacked the practical conditions for it. Trading heads for land was an effective compromise. This was a method Chu Guang had developed through practice while handling the refugees. Some refugees who owned slaves were reluctant to part with them—even preferring to kill them rather than let them go. But the moment they learned that slaves could be traded for land, they happily handed over the ropes tied around their slaves' necks. Only with land could they settle down, shed their refugee status, and leave behind a precarious wandering life. As for Chu Guang, he happened to have vast tracts of wasteland waiting to be reclaimed. Handing out a bit of undeveloped ground cost him nothing and actually reduced his workload. Once those refugees gained land, they would transform from ticking time bombs threatening order into shields defending it. Of course, when discussing land, Chu Guang deliberately refrained from bringing up "taxes." This was still the startup phase. He needed people to grow the pie. Squeezing out a measly silver coin or two was meaningless—especially since the currency in their hands was issued by him anyway. It was better to let it circulate in the market to stimulate economic growth. Once Changjiu Farm developed, the surrounding wild lands reached saturation, and previously worthless land became valuable, taxation would follow naturally. After hearing Chu Guang's terms, Brown ran the numbers in his head. Slaves weren't worth much to begin with, and in winter, they were practically a liability. If he didn't want them starving or freezing to death, he had to spend grain and fuel keeping them alive. He had over twenty serfs. If he traded them all for land, he could get over sixty mu. That was somewhat less than what he currently owned, but the Administrator's stance on land sparked a glimmer of hope. His farm wasn't in a great location; it was too close to the urban ruins, making reclamation costs exorbitant, and he hadn't expanded his acreage in years. If he could purchase more land from the Administrator later on, he might end up with a farm larger than before. Naturally, it was not without risk. None of them had ever truly dealt with these bluecoats, and there was no guarantee they would play by the rules instead of discarding him once they took over his assets. Brown weighed the pros and cons in silence. Just then, Night Owl from Highway Town spoke up. "What about weapons? Do we have to hand those over too?" Chu Guang answered, "Firearms are banned inside the settlement, but unrestricted outside. Private armed personnel staying long-term within our jurisdiction must register, and their business operations must comply with our laws. Beyond that, there are no restrictions." None of the survivors spoke. Though these conditions sounded somewhat strict, at least they offered a way to survive. Seeing that no one else was speaking, Chu Guang continued, "If there are no further questions, then those are all the points to note regarding the relocation. "Shortly, we will provide you with a resident handbook outlining everything you need to observe in our settlement. You may regard it as our law. "Additionally, I hope the relocation can begin as soon as possible. According to reports sent back from the front line by our reconnaissance squad, reinforcements from the Bone Chewer Tribe have reached the northern outskirts of Qingquan City. Right now, they are fuming about sixteen kilometers northeast of us, and there is no telling what reckless moves they might make." Noticing several survivors shifting uncomfortably as their expressions changed, Chu Guang paused before adding, "I'm not sure if any of your people live near there, but if so, you'd best notify them to seek shelter immediately—" Before his words could land, hurried footsteps sounded outside the room. A knock came at the door. Upon receiving permission, a guard marched briskly inside, snapped a military salute to Chu Guang, and reported gravely, "Lord Administrator, news from Changjiu Farm: heavy smoke has been spotted to the northeast... something appears to be burning!" Chu Guang froze. *Holy shit.* *Did my jinx mouth get blessed or something?!* A sense of foreboding washing over him, Chu Guang demanded at once, "Can you pinpoint the location?" "Our squad leader, Wrench, has already dispatched scouts to investigate. We can only estimate the approximate coordinates..." At Chu Guang's nod, the guard stepped forward, studied the map on the wall for a moment, and drew a circle with a piece of charcoal. Looking at the circled area, Night Owl, who was closest to the map, blurted out instinctively, "Winter Willow Camp?" It was the first time Chu Guang had ever heard that name. Judging by the reactions of the surrounding survivors, however, the place was clearly familiar to them. In unison, they turned toward a gaunt man seated among them. Chu Guang looked at him as well. The man had kept an extremely low profile, remaining silent throughout the entire relocation meeting. The sudden catastrophe drained every drop of color from his face, leaving it as white as the snow outside. His lips trembled uncontrollably, and his unfocused eyes filled with terror. "No!" *** Wilderness northeast of the outpost. Two heavy bicycles trundled through the snow with great difficulty. In places where the snow was shallow, it wasn't too bad; with an occasional kick to glide forward, they could manage to ride. But wherever the snowdrifts buried the wheels, they had no choice but to hop off and push. "What the hell is the point of bicycles in this godforsaken weather? They should've issued us a few pairs of skis instead!" Pedaling hard, Ye Shi grumbled. Sitting on the rack behind him, Kuang Feng looked at his VM screen and asked casually, "Do you even know how to ski?" "No! But I can learn!" Seated behind Jieyan, Fang Chang was also scrolling through his VM. He piped up, "I know a bit, but skiing on this terrain would be pretty tough unless we had a couple of huskies pulling us." Ye Shi glanced back at him. "Damn, is there anything you don't know?" Fang Chang pondered for a second. "Ummm... maybe because I have too much free time?" The north wind howled, whipping hard enough to make their heads spin. Suppressing a yawn, Ye Shi mumbled, "This game is too realistic... even the characters get sleepy." Behind him, Kuang Feng nodded. "Yeah, it really is absurd. I've already got a fatigue debuff on my end. The five-percent penalty isn't that noticeable, though... Wait, looks like a new quest just triggered." The moment he heard "new quest," Ye Shi, who had been listless a second ago, instantly perked up. "What quest?!" Staring at his VM screen, Fang Chang chimed in, "I got it too... The quest requires us to head to Winter Willow Camp, one kilometer away, support the survivors there, prevent the marauders from obtaining supplies from the site, and buy time for reinforcements to arrive." *Winter Willow Camp?* *What kind of backwater is that?* Fang Chang dragged his finger across the map and found a green tent icon. The icon sat inside a forest. No player had ever explored the area, so they knew nothing about it. Looking at the pre-war map, however, it seemed to have been a forest park or something similar, complete with a ranger station and a visitor rest area. In short, the middle of nowhere. Kuang Feng pinched the bridge of his nose and said calmly, "...To add to that, enemy numbers are unknown. We'd better be ready to encounter elite mobs or even trigger a boss fight. Fortunately, the battlefield is a forest, which makes it practically our home turf." Huffing and puffing as he pedaled, Brother Jieyan couldn't get a word in edgewise. Out of breath, he called out, "Bro, gimme a heading! Do we turn around?" Studying his VM screen for a moment, Fang Chang replied, "No need. Keep heading this way. I'll let you know ahead of time where we need to turn right... Tsk, this quest actually has a time limit." Surrounded by woods and undulating terrain, finding a suitable sniper's nest would be difficult. The terrain to the west was relatively elevated, but circling around would take time. A rough plan had already formed in Fang Chang's mind. Kuang Feng clapped Ye Shi on the shoulder and urged, "Quest fails in thirty minutes. Pedal faster! Can't you take a page from Jieyan's book?" Ye Shi cursed, "Fuck! I'm Perception-type! How the hell am I supposed to compete with a Constitution-type on this?!" Looking out over the expanse of white snow, Fang Chang sighed inwardly. *If only we could build a motorcycle.* Thinking about it carefully, wasteland road conditions made four-wheeled vehicles a pain to drive, but a two-wheeled motorcycle would be an absolute godsend! With a few modifications, it could even double as a snowmobile in winter. The only shame was that building an engine was a bit too difficult. *Hopefully Brother Toilet Cable and Brother Levin over at Mill No. 81 can pull through!* "Huge plume of smoke up ahead!" Jieyan suddenly shouted. "Do we turn?" "I have eyes, keep your voice down!" Fang Chang retorted, unclipping his compound bow from his back. As they spoke, faint gunshots echoed in the distance. Judging by the sound, they weren't far now—just inside the forest ahead. Fang Chang made a snap decision. "Halt. "Kuang Feng and Ye Shi, take the high ground to the west. Jieyan, stick with me. Keep your safeties on—make damn sure nobody misfires! "We'll make contact within seven hundred meters. We go on foot the rest of the way!"