You Look Like Someone Destined to Make a Fortune

The Queen of the Night was not the only bar in Boulder City. Just as Robo was dreaming of dominating the city's nightlife, another establishment on a different street—the Pirate Bay Tavern—was likewise buzzing with excitement over quality goods brought from the northern suburbs. "Spirit water?! Dammit, where the hell did you get your hands on this much good stuff in the dead of winter?" Sitting before the counter, a man stared at the jars and bottles lining the shelves, envy and greed written plain across his face. His name was Ante, leader of the Red Rocket Mercenary Group. He commanded forty or fifty men, and including himself, six of them were Awakened. Beyond the walls of Boulder City, a force of that caliber might not make him a petty king, but it was more than enough to live like a local tyrant on par with Old Leech. Here, however, he was merely another mercenary captain. Men like him were a dime a dozen. No one bothered to commit the name of a mercenary band or their exact headcount to memory. It was pointless. They might vanish tomorrow, or take on a new guise and switch to another line of work. The bartender before him acted as though he hadn't heard the question at all. Calmly wiping a glass, he spoke in an unhurried drawl. "Two hundred chips." Ante's eyes went wide, and he shouted, "Two hundred chips?! For that little two-hundred-milliliter vial? Have you people lost your damn minds?!" The bartender cast a glance his way, his expression utterly flat. "This is the pure, undiluted stuff. Extracting two hundred milliliters of this essence requires at least a kilogram of spirit leaf. Surely you wouldn't be stupid enough to chug the whole bottle in one go." Intakes below twenty milliliters were relatively safe. Many mercenaries mixed it into alcohol or simply watered it down. Typically, diluting twenty milliliters of concentrated spirit water with two hundred milliliters of purified water yielded a bottle of optimal potency, granting two hours of absolute fearlessness. Those two hours were critical. Most firefights ended within thirty minutes; two hours of peak performance was more than enough to turn the tide in their favor. Ante had never expected to find genuine, uncut product for sale here. A look of surprise flickered across his face. At one chip per milliliter, the price wasn't actually unreasonable—especially during the winter, when securing spirit leaves in bulk was nearly impossible. "Give me five bottles!" The bartender turned smoothly, plucked five bottles from the shelf, and set them down on the counter. "That'll be one thousand." Without a word, Ante slapped a pouch of chips onto the wood. "It's all here... Dammit, this coin barely got warm in my pocket before ending up in yours. You better steer me toward a decent gig!" "Winter is over. Why worry about finding work?" The bartender gave a faint smile, peeked into the pouch, and tucked it into the drawer beneath the counter. After a moment of thought, he continued, "Fighting is about to break out around Red River Town. Word is the pay isn't bad—three hundred red and blue vouchers for a six-month contract. Whether you capture men or women, hauling them south turns a profit. If you can't find a buyer, you can bring them to me. Interested?" "Got anything closer?" Ante pocketed the spirit water and lit a cigarette. "Six months is too long. At the start of the year, I only want short gigs." In two or three weeks at the earliest, or two months at the latest, the Enterprise caravan would arrive. This year, he planned to try his luck in Yunjian Province. It wasn't just about making money; he wanted to get bionic prosthetics for himself and his crew, along with a couple of dependable pieces of gear. He had heard the fighting against the mutants in Yunjian Province was fierce. If he could survive two years out there, he might well return home in glory and retire. No one could work as a mercenary forever. Not even an Awakened. Studying the man before him, the bartender mused, "Then your only option is to wait for the Tide." Ante raised an eyebrow. "There's going to be one this year?" "Hard to say, but the odds are high," the bartender replied with a shrug. "After scraping through the whole winter, it's not just the animals that need to hunt; those rotting things need something to chew on, too. With how heavy the snow was last month, I'd find it stranger if nothing happened come spring." The Tide. Ante licked his lips, excitement gleaming in his eyes. That was a prime opportunity! Whenever a Tide struck, the masters of Boulder City would shower chips by the handful, mobilizing casual laborers to the front lines. Battle-hardened mercenaries like his outfit wouldn't get chewed up in the jaws of mutants like raw cannon fodder. On top of that, they could seize the chance to reap a fortune! That money came far easier than escorting caravans. After all, the risk of clashing with mutants in pitched battle was far lower than catching a sniper's stray bullet from marauders. "Give me ten more bottles!" Ante was ready to go all out. If the Tide really came this year, scarce supplies like this were bound to skyrocket in price. Stocking up while they were still at a "discount" was definitely the right move. A pleased smile spread across the bartender's face. He smoothly accepted the chips, retrieved ten more bottles of spirit water, and lined them up on the counter. "I've always had a keen eye for people." "You look like someone destined to make a fortune!" *** [Quest: Market Expansion] [Details: The products of Tengteng Cottage are sweeping Boulder City's inner district. To enrich the cultural life of the wasteland's populace, we must develop more accessible consumer goods that the general public can afford. This will generate foreign exchange and lower our industrial costs...] [Rewards: ...] [Issued by: Xia Yan] At the chemical plant in the new industrial zone, numerous players noticed the prompt pop up on their quest boards. Though couched in verbose corporate jargon, the core message was simple enough: *Shelter 404 needs more polyamide to manufacture stockings in various colors and opacities. Hurry up and produce it.* Yet the focus was neither the quest's content nor its generous rewards, but the name of the issuer. Could this name... really not be a bug? "Holy crap? Boss Xia is into this sort of thing?!" Spotting the oddity on the panel at a glance, a player standing by the assembly line let out a delighted shout, as if uncovering an Easter egg. Soon, however, someone realized the matter wasn't quite that simple. "Wait a minute, why does the phrasing sound so much like the Administrator?" "True. Boss Xia never wastes so many words when handing out tasks." "!!! Holy shit, why does that make it sound even more exciting?!" "Who cares? Bro, just get it done! Let's gooo!" "Roger that!" "Awoo! Black silk stockings will conquer the wasteland!!" "Dumb question—are you guys planning to pull them over your heads?" The raw materials for polyamide could mostly be found in the NPC warehouse. Anything missing could be requisitioned through the warehouse supervisor or sourced via a forum post. The number of pre-registered players kept growing, and onlookers crowded the area, with a few remarkably suspicious masters strolling past from time to time. Despite the primitive production conditions and decidedly retro methods, the players with backgrounds in chemical engineering worked with boundless enthusiasm. They bounced ideas off one another, brainstorming manufacturing processes better tailored to the wasteland. Although the chemical industry was heavily saturated in reality, here in the game they were rare, indispensable talents—revered figures in the eyes of fellow players and wastelanders alike. Life-profession and combat players had to concede the point. Cooking meals or baiting fishing spots? *Put me in, and I can handle it.* Synthesizing polymers? *Put me in, and I'm totally lost.* In truth, it wasn't just the chemical plant that had caught the fever. The "wealth legends" forged by the Ox and Horse Squad and Tengteng Cottage had energized every player and forum lurker who had read the guides. Wild ideas erupted across the forums in rapid succession, promptly brought to life in-game by a crowd of remarkably handy players. Take Mosquito, for instance. The guy could never sit still. Especially after his "anti-ripper-crab mine" was thoroughly roasted on the forums, he had learned his lesson and resolved to invent something truly useful. To be fair, he actually pulled it off. He created a detachable steel plate tailored for the KV-1 exoskeleton, capable of stopping rifle rounds fired directly at the chest. Among bulletproof materials, steel plating remained the most cost-effective choice. Its only drawbacks were heavy weight and the hazard of spalling fragments injuring a soldier's chin and wrists. For an exoskeleton, however, weight was barely a concern. With a little clever engineering, most of the burden could be distributed across the frame. The spalling problem, meanwhile, was mitigated by designing an armored gorget around the collar. Such "rigid infantry armor" might hold little relevance in twenty-first-century warfare, but in the urban skirmishes common to the wasteland, it worked wonders. Particularly against marauders, no one could predict the direction of an attack, let alone what weapons the enemy carried. Many mercenaries welded steel plates to their KV-1s, but they lacked standardized dimensions, relying entirely on makeshift personal preference. A standardized, detachable add-on kit might just become a runaway hit. Mosquito was hardly alone. The entire industrial zone was plotting ways to fleece the "new map." Chu Guang viewed this with both gratification and relief. He was pleased that the players were grasping the game version's mechanics with increasing sophistication, sparing him a vast amount of micromanagement and freeing his attention for macroscopic strategy. His relief stemmed from the fact that the initial land reclamation had wrapped up over the past few days. He could comfortably close the expansion phase, settle quest rewards for the industrious players, and transition smoothly into spring planting. Otherwise, with everyone rushing off to fleece their neighbors, no one would be left to till the fields... *** "Sweet mother of mercy, we're finally back!" Near the north gate of Changjiu Farm, a heavily laden caravan halted at the unloading bay. Qian Duo found Liszt and handed the ledger to his master, while Liszt sought out Luka to appraise the cargo's value and negotiate the terms of settlement. Catching his breath as he gazed at the vast tract of newly cleared fields to the west, Mole on the Run from the Canyon stood slack-jawed in sheer astonishment. "...Holy shit, did the map update?!" He had only been away for half a month. How had the place transformed like this while he was gone?! Beyond the ten thousand mu of cleared land, golden ears of corn lay drying across the open ground by the north gate. Good grief. A rough glance suggested dozens of tons of corn at the very least! It was mind-boggling. Emerging from the granary, Makka Pakka caught sight of Mole, who looked no better than a refugee, and wore an equally startled expression. "Damn, Mole?! Did you just flee a famine?" Mole on the Run from the Canyon rolled his eyes. "Piss off. I ended up like this scouting out the map for you guys!" Makka Pakka gave him an odd look and pressed on, "What took you so long? I thought a round trip was supposed to take half a week at most." Fang Chang, that lucky bastard, was already on his second trip to Boulder City! Two weeks for a single round trip was absurdly slow. Mole said helplessly, "The plan was to be back in a week, but who can predict what happens on the road? We were supposed to be delayed another two or three days; getting here today is already fast!" Surprised, Makka Pakka asked, "What did you run into? A deathclaw?" "Nah," Mole replied. "What we ran into was way wilder than any mutant. Fighting has broken out in Red River Town." "Fighting?! Against who?" "Who else? The only shit-stirrers in the entire River Valley Province are the Bone Chewers. Before we left, I heard caravan NPCs say two thousand-man detachments from the Snake clan had severed the routes leading north and west from Red River Town. Supposedly, a third thousand-man detachment is en route to cut off the eastern road, too." "Of course, Red River Town isn't taking it lying down. Several mine owners and merchant consortiums banded together, hired over twenty mercenary groups, and trained a sizable militia, claiming a force of ten thousand... Though frankly, I doubt they have half that." "For safety's sake, we had to detour south... looping past a settlement called Trash Town before swinging back northwest... like this." Mole traced a "V" in the air with his forefinger, showing the route they had taken on the map. Rather than dwell on his route, Makka Pakka was clearly more intrigued by something else. "Hold on! What the heck is Trash Town?" *Could it be a hidden map?!* "Uh, how to put it? A mid-sized survivor settlement, I guess. I'll sketch it out on the forums later. It felt quite a bit smaller than Boulder City, and the trek from there to here is even farther than to Red River Town." At this, Mole chuckled. "That's what blew my mind the most. I didn't expect the game map to be this massive! Some of the survivor settlements mentioned only in lore blurbs have actually been implemented." "Here's my bold theory: maybe lore locations like Ideal City have been patched into the game all along, just with incomplete content, so the developers haven't made a big fuss about them yet." If that hypothesis held true, heading due east from here might genuinely lead to the legendary Ideal City. The snag, however, was that there were no save points along the way, no VM signal, and the terrain was completely unfamiliar. Relying on two legs to trek all that way was pure fantasy. Listening to Mole recount tales of distant frontiers, Makka Pakka looked green with envy. Just then, the Administrator, clad in his powered armor, strode over from the north gate of Changjiu Farm. "Good work!" Taking in Mole's refugee-like appearance, Chu Guang settled the player's quest before adding a dry afterthought. "Hurry back and take a shower." The stench was overwhelming! Mole scratched his head in embarrassment, well aware that he smelled foul, and decisively headed for the south gate to catch the trolley. The assorted skirmishes along the journey had earned him a full level, but the lack of a save point had kept him on edge the entire time. Chu Guang shifted his attention to the cargo being unloaded. Apart from the rifles Liszt had purchased from him, a portion of the goods belonged to Shelter 404, sold on consignment through Liszt on an eighty-twenty split. That arms shipment had brought back nearly fifty tons of mineral resources, twenty tons of insect glue and insect powder for soil enrichment, and twenty-five two-headed oxen. Liszt approached Chu Guang, accompanied by his apprentice, Qian Duo. "Nearly seventy percent of this haul is yours. As for the remaining thirty percent, I'd like to settle it all in rifles so I can make another run to Red River Town and trade for more raw materials." While converting to spirit leaves was also viable and made cashing out into chips easier, the caravan sent to Boulder City had yet to return. He couldn't leave his team idling here. Before Qian Lai got back, Liszt intended to make another trip to Red River Town to secure more resources scarce in Changjiu Farm. Settling in spirit leaves later would work just as well, and by then, the exchange would yield even more! After hearing Liszt's plan, Chu Guang nodded. "Once the warehouse finishes cataloging the transfer, I'll provide you with an inventory. Beyond rifles, we have other quality merchandise for sale." Liszt raised an eyebrow. "Such as?" Chu Guang offered a faint smile. "Death Howl rockets, Hellfire Breath motorcycles, eighty-eight-millimeter mortars, twenty-millimeter Lance anti-tank rifles, and corresponding ammunition... All of these have been battle-tested. We gave the northern marauders a thorough beating with them, and they are fully prepared to deliver another." "You may tell our friends in Red River Town that they can place their full trust in us. The Bone Chewer tribe is a menace to all, and we will support their war with concrete action." Selling rifles and ammunition could never match the profits of selling heavy artillery. The former could be assembled by hand, but the latter could not be churned out by a handful of primitive workshops. The thirty-seven-millimeter "Heavy Lance" had completed development. Its firepower eclipsed the twenty-millimeter variant by a wide margin, boasting armor penetration exceeding seventy millimeters at a hundred meters! That was more than enough to shred typical light and medium armor! Beyond the products of the No. 81 Steel Mill, Goblin Technology's innovations were equally potent. Rocket deviation had shrunk from the initial one-kilometer spread to within two hundred meters. Further refinement of power and accuracy could only be validated on a live battlefield. Red River Town was an ideal proving ground. A distance of over a hundred kilometers made direct conflict unlikely, while the Bone Chewer tribe was a shared enemy of every settlement in the River Valley Province. Since someone was willing to foot the bill for Shelter 404's defense industry, Chu Guang had no intention of passing up the chance to secure a market for his factories. Not to mention that this buyer held immense manpower and mineral reserves. As the war dragged on, he might well end up buying Red River Town outright. Hearing that Chu Guang possessed such an arsenal, Liszt's eyes lit up, a delighted grin breaking across his face. "With your assurance, the mine owners of Red River Town will be ecstatic! Those barbarians' armored pickups have been giving them hell. Your anti-armor experience and weapons will be invaluable!" Chu Guang smiled faintly. "We can provide more than just weapons. We can also deploy well-trained soldiers and drill instructors. If needed, we can even enter into a long-term mercenary contract." Liszt said excitedly, "I'll inquire on your behalf. There shouldn't be any issue!" Shelter 404 had routed the Snake clan once before; word of that victory had long since spread. From Liszt's standpoint, the longer the war dragged on, the better. Only prolonged conflict would maximize his chip profits. Seeing Liszt's enthusiasm, Chu Guang smiled. "I'll dispatch two ten-man squads to accompany you directly." The supply line was somewhat extended, but with hibernation pods acting as save points, it posed little risk. If anyone died, fresh players could simply take their place. Tying the Snake clan down at Red River Town was vastly preferable to facing both the Snake and Fang clans at the same time. Furthermore, the players gained quests, the people of Red River Town gained security, and he gained Red River Town's raw resources. If the cooperation went smoothly and was handled properly, Shelter 404 might even establish a permanent military base there in the future. This was far beyond a mutual win. It was Emperor Qin grabbing a live wire—winning till he was completely numb!