North of Changjiu Farm, in an abandoned town.
Light snow mingled with the howling north wind, causing roadside branches to sway gently.
A truck bearing a quadruple antiaircraft autocannon on its flatbed was concealed at the edge of the woods, its aligned barrels aimed at the snowfield to the north.
Beside the truck, Gray Wolf held up a pair of binoculars, gazing northward. Anxious tension crept onto his face as he muttered under his breath.
"This is impossible..."
By all accounts, once he fired the flare, a hundred-man squad should have set out from Yuanxi Town to reinforce Changjiu Farm and help him fortify the stronghold. Follow-up troops and supplies would then move in to garrison the farm, bringing the entire northern outskirts into the Bone Chewer tribe's territory.
Yet now, it was already noon the next day.
Never mind a hundred-man squad—he hadn't seen a single soul coming from the north.
A spark of fury flashed in Gray Wolf's eyes. He felt betrayed.
Clearly, Lion Fang, who had handed him the flare gun, had never intended to send reinforcements at all. From the very moment they set out, Lion Fang had treated him and his subordinates as cannon fodder.
But why?
Gray Wolf couldn't fathom Lion Fang's reasoning.
If that fool's intelligence suggested it was impossible to take this place, why agree to let him take the risk in the first place?
Even if he was an outsider, he was still a fighting force, and he knew his strength wasn't negligible. No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't figure out why Lion Fang would discard him.
Liu Ding, standing beside him, showed no surprise whatsoever.
Before departing, the Administrator had explained to him that this mission might turn out to be a wild goose chase.
The marauders in Yuanxi Town might never have intended to send reinforcements.
Due to some factor outside the battlefield.
With an assault rifle slung across his chest, Liu Ding checked the time on his wrist-mounted VM and said expressionlessly, "Looks like your 'reinforcements' aren't coming."
Gray Wolf's Adam's apple bobbed. "Maybe they got caught in heavy snow..."
Liu Ding paid him no mind. He rapped his knuckles against the truck door and called out to the player in the driver's seat.
"Mission's over."
"Let's pull back."
[Brother Levin], sitting in the truck, yawned, started the light truck's engine, and shouted toward the rearview mirror, "Pack it up, pack it up! Stop damn well dozing off back there!"
Nearly asleep, [Ya'er I Wanna Go to the Restroom] jerked his head awake, climbed back into the truck, and grumbled as he eyed the half-crate of ammunition.
"Damn it."
"I'm so sleepy I feel like I'm about to disconnect..."
It was his first time feeling sleepy in a game.
The operators of Wasteland OL always put unnecessary effort into the strangest places.
Did it make sense that players couldn't stay online twenty-four hours a day?
Did it make sense that in-game characters had to sleep?
Taking anti-addiction mechanics to this extreme was truly one of a kind!
***
Chu Guang had barely slept the previous night, and morning brought a mountain of work.
There were no new movements from the north for now. The next attack would likely come from the northeast—the thousand-man force led by Black Snake.
To guard against surprise attacks, Chu Guang deployed two patrol routes around the Mid-Continent Aerospace ecological experiment base, using the former sites of three survivor settlements—Winter Willow Camp, Highway Town, and the Battery Factory—as patrol waypoints to search for potential threats from northeast of Qingquan City.
Patrol duties were shared between the guard team and combat players. Beyond conducting the patrols, it gave them a chance to familiarize themselves with the terrain in preparation for the impending battle.
As an aside, Dilatant rubber was exceptionally useful.
Not only could it seal components, but crudely fashioned into caterpillar tracks to replace tires, it allowed light trucks to practically fly across the snow.
However, the poor quality of the suspension was an issue; riding in the vehicle was rather rough. Just last night, an Intelligence-type player had been jolted so badly he threw up.
By the time Chu Guang returned to the shelter, it was already noon. Skipping lunch, he collapsed into bed and fell asleep, only waking to find it was already late afternoon.
"Now I have to fix my sleep schedule again."
Shaking his groggy head, Chu Guang sat up in bed and glanced down at his sweat-soaked clothes, then at the sheets and the floor.
"...If anyone saw this, they'd definitely get the wrong idea."
Right after Chu Guang muttered to himself, an energetic voice drifted from the adjacent wall.
"It's fine, Master! Xiao Qi won't tell anyone!"
God only knew where that voice pack had been stolen from.
Was today's style an upperclassman girl?
"All right, you can shut up now."
The voice stopped, but a pop-up window appeared on the VM resting on the nightstand:
"QAQ"
"..."
Dismissing the dialog box on the VM, Chu Guang practicedly stripped off his clothes and tossed them into the hamper by the door.
Grabbing a towel hanging by the hamper, he wiped away the sweat and bodily residue, changed into clean clothes, and headed down to the bathroom on Floor B3. After a quick wash, he took a turn and made his way to the Medical Lab on the same floor.
Seeing Chu Guang appear in the doorway, Heya raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her expression.
"Did you 'level up' again?"
It was a new word she had learned from Chu Guang.
Much like "player," they were words whose meanings were hard to grasp just by hearing the sounds.
"That's right." Chu Guang lay down on the scanning bed without prompting and said crisply, "Let's begin."
"Hold on! Let me put away these samples."
Pausing her work, Heya skillfully removed the tissue slide from the microscope, carefully returned it to the cryogenic storage unit, and then eagerly strode over.
Compared to Deathclaw tissue slices, the genetic samples preserved in this vault were far more fascinating.
To her, this place was practically a treasure trove of boundless potential.
Waking up twenty years later was truly wonderful!
Stepping over to the terminal beside the bed, Heya tapped the touchscreen several times with her index finger, expertly operating the equipment to begin the procedure.
The scanning apparatus whirred to life.
After a brief wait, the updated status panel materialized before Chu Guang's eyes.
[ID: Chu Guang]
[Gene Sequence: Administrator (Stage 2)]
[Level: LV.15 → LV.16]
[—Basic Attributes—]
[Strength: 17]
[Agility: 11]
[Constitution: 16]
[Perception: 12]
[Intelligence: 14 → 15]
The increase this time went to Intelligence.
Chu Guang closed his eyes to savor it for a moment, but perhaps because he was already sharp enough, he felt no obvious difference.
Heya, standing beside the terminal, was wide-eyed with shock.
Neurons were non-renewable cells; reasonably speaking, once the human brain reached maturity, it would not generate new neurons.
At least, not under natural conditions.
Yet the transformation before her completely overturned her understanding.
Without the aid of pharmaceuticals or external medical equipment, a fully matured body had experienced growth twice in succession!
This was not progress from physical exercise.
Rather, it was a fundamental shift in the expression of his genes.
In fact, it wasn't just Chu Guang. Almost every resident in this vault exhibited similar baffling phenomena in their DNA expression.
"Incredible... The rate of your growth is astonishing! I only gave you a physical exam a little over a week ago, didn't I? Last time it was the immune system, metabolic function, and skeletal structure... and this time it's neurons? This is completely absurd!"
Chu Guang didn't feel anything special; if anything, he felt he had slacked off on training lately.
"Is it that fast?"
Heya nodded with a solemn expression.
"Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn't have used the word 'incredible.'"
Chu Guang gave her an odd look. "I feel like you use that word all the time."
Heya froze for a second. "Do I?"
Rather than waste time on trivialities, Chu Guang steered the conversation back to gene sequences.
"So, is growing this fast a good thing or a bad thing?"
Heya pondered for a moment before speaking. "It's hard to say. The definition of good and bad depends on your perspective."
"What do you mean?" Chu Guang asked.
Heya replied, "In short, individual enhancement increases an organism's survival probability in its environment. Conversely, overly complex gene expression is detrimental to reproduction... Do you understand what I mean?"
Actually, this wasn't all that big a problem.
Rumor had it that during the distant Prosperity Era, a considerable number of people had already abandoned traditional social relationships, relying entirely on technological means to produce offspring.
In particular, the rise of synthetic companions and virtual reality had accelerated this societal transformation.
After all, who could resist a fictional character whose persona never fell apart?
Especially when that 2D waifu could step right out of the screen.
"More or less, though I'm not sure if my understanding aligns with what you mean."
Basically, it was hard to hit the reproductive jackpot?
Sitting on the edge of the scanning bed, Chu Guang fell into contemplation.
Which brought up a question:
Was this a good thing, or a good thing?
***
Waking up late had its perks. Dusk was when the market outside the north gate was liveliest, and food was ready the moment he opened his eyes.
The bonfire at the north gate had gone out, but the festive atmosphere was not in the least inferior to the previous night's.
If anything, it was even more bustling.
The popular snacks from the celebration had been kept around, continuing to shine in the market.
Meanwhile, the game that players had racked their brains to gather from the wasteland, along with leftover cooking ingredients, greatly enriched the diets of local residents.
Indeed, eating was always humanity's primary pursuit.
Only when bellies were full would people have the mind to think about other things and ponder how to improve their lives.
As Chu Guang strolled through the market, he noticed people from the Frost Spear clan selling black and red dyes made from insect secretions.
This technique had been brought over from northern survivor settlements, using small insects that were by no means rare on the wasteland as raw materials. Until arriving here, however, the skill had had no place to be put to use.
Once the Frost Spear clan noticed the Bluecoats' demand for pigments during the celebration, they immediately produced it.
As it turned out, the dye's performance was remarkable, boasting excellent saturation on silk fabrics; once dyed, it wouldn't fade even after repeated washing.
In addition, members of the Iron Axe tribe had gained practical experience with spinning yarn, and the stall run by the sisters Qiu Cao and Qiu Ye featured many new goods Chu Guang hadn't seen before—such as attractive accessories, durable gloves, scarves, and socks.
A portion of these goods had clearly been taught to them by Tengteng.
A thriving market helped boost producers' morale, and rewarding production through trade encouraged creativity, prompting people to refine tools and manufacturing methods, thereby driving the prosperity of the entire survivor settlement.
Walking through the market, Chu Guang could distinctly feel that the harsh winter and the gloom of the Wartime Regulations were gradually fading.
The buds of prosperity seemed to have arrived even earlier than spring.
On almost every face, he could see vibrant vitality and a hopeful longing for tomorrow.
On the wasteland, this was practically unheard of.
Passing a barbecue stall, Chu Guang bought several skewers.
The sizzling aroma of roasted meat drifted into his nostrils, whetting the appetite of a man who hadn't eaten all day. Biting into one was pure satisfaction.
Just as Chu Guang was wondering whether to get something to drink, a familiar, long-absent hawking call drifted over from a nearby mushroom stall.
"Fresh devil jelly!"
"Freshly made, come and get it, everyone!"
The mushroom stall was back in business?
Winter really was almost over.
Surprised, Chu Guang glanced toward Boss Yaya's stall.
Regrettably, however, the stall didn't feature the mushroom soup that countless NPCs and players longed for. Instead, there was a large tub.
On the wooden table beside it sat several delicate little bowls containing a translucent gelatinous substance that resembled jelly.
Chu Guang recalled that this seemed to be Tengteng's handiwork—boiling devil pupae into a gelatinous mass similar to sandworm jelly. It tasted surprisingly savory and didn't look nearly as unappetizing as whole devil pupae.
After the New Year's event ended, the kind and pretty Tengteng had apparently passed the recipe on to Yaya, who smelled a business opportunity and promptly set up a stall.
The only pity was that the portion size was tiny.
If only it were half as big as her.
Before long, an inevitable crowd of players gathered around the stall.
"Whoa! Boss Duck's mushroom stall is open?!"
"Whoa! It's not mushrooms!"
"Damn it, why is it selling weird food? Isn't this like hanging up a sheep's head to sell dog meat?!"
"Where's the mushroom soup? I want mushrooms that let me see Klee!"
"Waaa, we can't watch Boss Yaya swallow big mushrooms whole anymore! What's the point of a mushroom stall without party tricks?!"
"Wait, the jelly looks pretty good too?"
"Brothers, I suddenly have a bold id—"
"Piss off!"
Flushing red, Yaya flung a bowl of devil jelly straight at him. The player who got hit beamed with delight, snatched up the bowl, and bolted.
Catching her breath, Yaya realized she had been played and immediately regretted it.
Damn it, I was careless!
I just opened and already lost a bowl! A total loss!
Jokes aside, everyone was quite supportive of Boss Yaya's business.
After all, that had been the first meal many players ate upon entering the game; the five copper coins from the newbie gift pack had been just enough for a bowl.
That bowl of mushroom soup carried memories of an earlier patch, with a history older than the north gate market itself.
After finishing his portion, the player quickly returned the bowl, offered an apologetic "Sorry, it was delicious," and cheekily added that he'd do it again next time.
The other players drew out their VMs, ready to pay for nostalgia's sake.
However, once they learned the price, everyone was dumbfounded.
"Wait a minute, isn't one silver coin for a single jelly a bit too expensive?"
"Yeah! This bowl is barely the size of half an apple! That's way too little!"
"I treat Sister Yaya like a bro, but Sister Yaya treats me like an Imperial officer!"
"Total ripoff! Highway robbery!"
Hearing the chorus of complaints and agitation, Yaya panicked and hurriedly argued, "The ramen next door costs ten silver coins a bowl! Is selling this for one silver coin really that out of line?!"
Hearing this, Zhang Hai, who was pulling noodles at the adjacent ramen stall, bristled at once and glared over.
"Bullshit!"
"When did I ever charge that much?!"
Elaina, who was slurping noodles, looked up and couldn't resist chiming in.
"You didn't charge that much, sure, but the way you slice your meat—two slices are thinner than one."
Zhang Hai gave him an indifferent glance. "What the hell do you know? That's what makes it authentic."
Hearing this, the patrons erupted in jeers.
These unscrupulous merchants were ruthless!
String them up from the lampposts!
Holding his newly purchased roasted wild boar skewers and watching the lively players, Chu Guang couldn't help smiling like a proud father.
How nice.
Looks like I'll have to find excuses to hold more celebrations in the future.
Once the northern crisis is resolved!
If things go well, maybe the spring plowing festival can be held together with the triumph ceremony.
However, the prerequisite for any grand vision of the future was driving off the jackals to the north.
Otherwise, it was all empty talk.
Chewing off the last bite of meat from the skewer, Chu Guang wiped his mouth and moved on to the next stall with great interest.
***
After dinner, Chu Guang strolled through the streets for a while.
Only when total darkness fell did he return to the vault, sit down in his office, and begin doing the work expected of a game developer.
Normally, most players would have logged off by this hour, but today quite a few remained online.
It seemed people had little to do during the New Year's holiday; if they were going to lie around anyway, they might as well lie down wearing VR helmets.
Throughout the day, the average user online time had increased by at least 20% compared to previous days.
The key metric measuring how hard players grinded—the total amount of silver coins distributed—had also increased by 13% over yesterday.
More money had been handed out, but that was a good thing.
According to Wasteland OL's economic model, the rewards players earned from quests and orders were positively correlated with the value they contributed to the collective.
Generally speaking, for every silver coin a player earned, the value generated for the vault was between 1.5 and 4 silver coins.
Even if a silver coin was acquired through the market or traded between players, the value remained real—it simply shifted from the warehouse to the market, accumulating in various forms to establish a base for future transaction taxes.
And as production-class players consumed stockpiles, the distributed currency would eventually flow back to the vault, forming a virtuous cycle.
Beyond the market's prosperity, Chu Guang also noted that five new Awakened had emerged after last night's battle.
As of now, the total count of Awakened on the server had risen to twenty-seven, just three shy of forming three full ten-man squads.
"One step closer to putting together an Awakened Company." The corners of Chu Guang's mouth curled upward, his expression radiating delight.
One Awakened taking on three ordinary fighters made sense, right?
By that logic, an entire company of Awakened beating up a regiment wasn't a stretch either, was it?
While the marauders also had Awakened—and might even possess bizarre oddities—it wasn't a major concern.
His players were of purer stock, had stable evolutionary trajectories, and, most importantly, came in high yields.
A fresh life every three days—who wouldn't be terrified?
After reviewing the macro-level data reports, Chu Guang opened the report submitted from Changjiu Farm.
Among the captured spoils this time were approximately 101 Ripper rifles, 21 submachine guns, 32 assault rifles, 9 disposable Panzerfaust rocket launchers, along with a number of Molotov cocktails and hand grenades.
Based on the spoils tallied by the NPCs, Chu Guang, assisted by Xiao Qi, settled the players' rewards using predefined calculation formulas.
Defensive and offensive modes had different war objectives, and kills contributed slightly more war score in defense.
The MVP was naturally the "antiaircraft gun" team. Their recorded kill count was forty-two; nearly forty percent of the targets had been reaped by Mosquito alone, which directly triggered the attacking force's collapse.
When that autocannon burst swept across, the marauders who had seized the perimeter wall were scared senseless; shortly after leaping down, they surrendered.
As a result, when the "Edge" team charged up, they found nothing left to fight; by the time they reached the gate, the battle was already over.
However, even though Mosquito claimed the kills, the points were calculated on a team basis.
In other words, Brother Levin and Brother Toilet Cable, who had served as driver and loader, received point-based rewards as well.
Factoring in the points provided by the squad mission, each of the three received 480 silver coins, 200 contribution points, and 1,000 regional reputation.
In addition, the three production-class players finally earned the first silver medals of their gaming careers!
Even if it was just a basic medal, it was still an achievement unlocked.
Having finally finished his tasks, Chu Guang leaned back in his office chair and stretched.
Just as he was wondering which game he might draw inspiration from later, a post on the forum caught his eye.
The post's title had no flashy gimmicks and was utterly unremarkable, yet the discussion was surprisingly heated.
It Was an Ordinary Morning, on the Life of My Friend
[Poster: Cut the Crap]
Chapter 227