The Interception at 65th Street!

"Tail, did you pack everything? We're about to leave the city. Think carefully—is there anything you forgot?" At the gates of Boulder City. Before lining up to leave, Sisi was checking Tail's VM and backpack, repeatedly making sure nothing had been left behind. Her movements and demeanor were the spitting image of a doting father. "Oh! Got everything—wait, where's Rourou?" Tail suddenly looked around in alarm, acutely noticing something missing from their group. Lining up ahead of them, Tengteng turned back in surprise toward Sisi and Tail. "Huh? You guys didn't bring Rourou?" Sisi subtly averted her gaze and muttered under her breath, "...How bizarre. She's clearly such a huge bear, so why does she have almost zero presence?" It was definitely because the bear was too timid. Sesame Paste, who had also completely forgotten about Rourou, flushed red, the cat ears atop her head twitching bashfully. "I-I'll go fetch her." "Tail wants to go too!" Anticipating Tail's move, Sisi caught her with practiced ease. "The warehouse area isn't far. One person is enough. Tail, just behave and stay in line; it'll be our turn soon." "Giao!" Over the past few days, Rourou had been staying with the two-headed oxen, supposedly scaring the other animals in the pens half to death. She had arrived at a brand-new map, yet couldn't explore anywhere, and when it came time to leave, she was almost left behind because her presence was so faint. Truly pitiful. Sisi couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt. Once they got back to the outpost, she would treat her to a few fish. Waiting in line didn't take long. The guards at the gate merely checked them against the bounties and wanted posters on the wall, and upon confirming that none of them were wanted criminals, let them through. Originally, Xu Shun was supposed to set out with them, but having received a last-minute task, he had split off to act alone. They agreed to regroup outside the city gates. Stepping out from beneath the city gate, Yaya stretched languidly, gazing at the sunset hanging on the horizon, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. "Finally going home!" She had already sold that steel-plated KV-1 exoskeleton for 200 chips. Though she had taken a slight loss, it was no big deal. Thinking of a certain Mosquito who had gotten her stuck in a wall, a captivating glimmer of danger slipped into Yaya's smiling eyes. She swore that if she didn't hit that crooked merchant with a fist the size of a mushroom once she got back, she would spell her name backward! Outside the gate, the square was bustling. A steady stream of traveling merchants came and went, mercenaries looking for work drifted across the plaza, and various peddlers hawked bizarre goods. The militia had set up a recruitment post at the gate, and the line of conscripts stretched all the way back into the slums. The loudspeaker at the entrance of the slums blared the terms of conscription on repeat—two chips a day, plus two rations of nutrient paste. Sign up and get a rifle on the spot; ammunition would be distributed once they reached the frontline. Yaya looked around curiously. Just then, a whistle sounded nearby. Noticing gazes landing on her, Yaya instinctively turned her head. Three mercenary-looking men were grinning in her direction. Seeing Yaya look over, the mercenary leader walking in the middle whistled flirtatiously. "Hey, beautiful." The two flanking him chimed in as well. "All by yourself?" "Dealing with the Tide is rough work. Why not come down south with us and get rich?" Their leering, naked stares disgusted Yaya. Although she didn't fully understand what they were saying, their posture made it obvious they were hitting on her—and ninety percent likely up to no good. Yaya made a shooing gesture and said impatiently, "Not interested, not interested! Beat it and find somewhere else to chill!" She had been hit on plenty over the past two days, mostly by mercenaries and occasionally by traveling traders, but not a single one was to her taste. Never mind their slovenly appearance; their sleazy, malicious eyes made her physically uncomfortable. They practically had 'really, really bad guy' tattooed across their foreheads. Her real type was the mature, steady, bright, handsome, polite, smart, and dependable big-brother figure with a strong sense of justice—and someone who wasn't too goofy, since she could be quite a goofball herself at times. Wait. Come to think of it, wasn't the Administrator practically her ideal type? It had to be said, the developers of Wasteland OL really knew what they were doing. What a shame he was just a bunch of 2D pixels. Seeing the busty beauty completely ignore them, the three mercenaries' faces darkened with irritation. Though they also couldn't understand what dialect she was speaking, her rejection was as plain as her utter disdain. Narrowing his eyes into slits, the bearded mercenary stepped forward, a subtle menace coloring his voice. "I'd advise you to think carefully before opening your mouth. This isn't Boulder City anymore. Once you step past that gate, it's the wasteland." "Anything can happen out in the wasteland, don't you think?" What on earth were these creeps babbling about? Yaya rolled her eyes and was about to tell them to get lost in the Human Alliance language when her teammates' voices called out from the direction of the gate. Tengteng: "Huh? Yaya's getting hit on again? Why did I say 'again'..." Tail grumbled sullenly, "Damn it, why doesn't anyone hit on Tail!" Tengteng comforted her, "Relax, no one hits on me either..." Sisi's eyes lingered on Tengteng's twin ponytails, her expression somewhat wry. "If someone hit on you, Tengteng, they'd probably get arrested for being a predator." Tengteng glared back at her, baring her little canines in exasperation. "What the heck! Are you looking down on me?!" Sisi gave a dry cough. "I wouldn't dare. Poor choice of words on my part." The three mercenaries exchanged looks, a trace of wariness entering their eyes as they watched the group approaching from the gate. In particular, the bearded leader in the center narrowed his eyes dangerously. From these newcomers, he sensed the aura of his own kind, though it was hard to gauge exactly how strong they were—after all, there were vast differences in strength among Awakened! Striding up to the mercenary leader, Tail crossed her arms and looked him up and down. "Yo, you've got some guts, boy, trying to hit on our Boss Yaya." Looking at her crossed arms, the mercenary leader remained deadpan, sneering inwardly. Full of openings! With lightning speed, he reached for the revolver at his hip. Yet before his hand was even halfway there, his vision blurred, and a gun was pressed right against his temple. The wind blew past his ear, and a bead of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. So fast! "I'd advise you not to make any sudden moves. Tail here has only been using a gun for less than six months. If it goes off by accident, all she can offer is an apology." Having somehow circled behind them without them noticing, Sisi had her PU-9 pressed against the back of another mercenary. In broken Human Alliance language, she said calmly, "By the way, so have I." Though they were effectively speaking different languages across different servers, communication was surprisingly frictionless. Sometimes, simple body language worked far better than words. The mercenary leader coughed dryly, awkwardly raised his hands, and took a slow step back. "Don't get tense. I was just adjusting my belt..." Sisi regarded him with chilling eyes. "Scram." The three mercenaries beat a hasty retreat, not daring to linger a second longer. Sisi holstered her submachine gun beneath her coat. Whispers rippled through the surrounding crowd, who now looked at the group with visible apprehension. Anyone who had been harboring opportunistic ideas thought twice, keeping their distance and merely watching from afar. Feeling the stares, Yaya grew a bit uneasy. "Let's hurry up and get moving. I feel like everyone's staring at us." Sisi nodded and glanced around. "Let's head out. I have a feeling something big is about to happen here." Liszt's caravan had already departed the city, with the great white bear and the cat girl accompanying them. Xu Shun, who had run off to handle some business earlier, should be returning soon as well. As they spoke, the VMs on their wrists vibrated simultaneously. Everyone hastily lifted their arms to look, only to see a notification window pop up on their screens: [Server Announcement: The Tide Approaches!] Staring at the prompt, Sisi blinked in surprise and mumbled under her breath, "Talk about a jinx..." Only a few seconds had passed, and something big truly was happening... ... Huayuan Street Subway Station Exit. Shouldering weapons and ammunition, players climbed the halted escalators to the surface, marching south at double time through shattered streets. The horizon was already tinged with dusky twilight; in less than an hour, darkness would descend completely. Yet even so, a patch of grayish-green clouds was clearly visible in the nearby sky. "Wasn't it supposed to be two weeks? It's only been one week, right?" "The Tide actually hit early." "So exciting, time for another raid!" The players whispered among themselves, excitement written across every face. This time, their opponents were mutants! In other words, a monster siege event! The crowning glory of any MMORPG! Missing out on something this thrilling would be an absolute tragedy, so the participating players had simply taken an entire day off in real life. Marching in the formation with a rifle slung over his back, I'm the Darkest suddenly spoke up. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Battlefield Atmosphere Group glanced at him. "Notice something?" I'm the Darkest eyed Commander Spring leading the pack. "That sneaky bastard isn't wearing his exoskeleton!" "Oho, look at you, you sharp little devil." Battlefield Atmosphere Group chuckled, draping an arm over his shoulder. "Don't sweat it. If you're scared, just stick close to me later. Big bro will keep you covered!" I'm the Darkest rolled his eyes ungratefully and smacked the arm away. "Piss off. Every single time, you're the first bastard to charge in!" Battlefield Atmosphere Group replied nonchalantly, "The most dangerous place is the safest place! Sure, I charge fast, but have you ever seen your granddaddy die?" Walking in the middle of the formation, Commander Spring studied his map with a grim expression. "Cut the crap. Listen to my commands later, and I'll do my best to bring you all back." He hadn't wanted to take this quest in the first place, but while others had volunteered, he had been appointed in an hour of crisis. It wasn't as though he couldn't refuse, but when a faction-leader-tier NPC handed down an exclusive quest, what sane player would turn it down? Given how realistic the game's AI was, turning down a task might tank his favorability. That would be a catastrophic loss! Oblivious to the turmoil in Brother Spring's heart, Battlefield Atmosphere Group flashed him a grin and gave him a thumbs-up. "Solid!" Commander Spring: "..." Honestly, he felt anything but solid; in fact, he was panicking like hell. A company of 120 players—to put it nicely, a suicide squad; to put it bluntly, cannon fodder. They had only one objective: proceed to the intersection of 65th Street and the Changling Elevated Road, intercept the Tide advancing northward along the highway piers, and stall it until dawn at all costs to buy time for the rear forces to establish their defense lines. Spring had studied the map. 65th Street ran east-west north of the Fifth Ring Road, flanked by towering skyscrapers, with a clock tower serving as its landmark building. Due to years of neglect, fallen concrete blocks clogged the gaps between buildings, making passage nearly impossible and forming a natural barrier. The twelve-lane Changling Elevated Road ran perpendicular to 65th Street, and their intersection formed a relatively open area—the only passage wide enough for a massive horde to move through. As long as firing positions were established in the high-rises flanking the elevated road to rain fire on gnawers behind the rugged obstacles, they could relieve pressure on the front line. Yet that was only theoretical. Spring had never commanded so many people before, especially with half of the 120 players being rookies. Fortunately, the other half were veterans of two or more battles, most of whom were Awakened. En route to the battlefield, Spring had roughly split the players into three infantry platoons, each comprising four ten-man squads, with working communications equipment distributed down to the platoon level. In addition to the 120 troops heading to the front line, a 20-man artillery detachment was trailing behind with six 88mm mortars and twelve crates containing a total of 144 shells, heading for an open area 1.2 kilometers away to set up an artillery position. Because high-rises stood everywhere, often several hundred to a thousand meters tall, the artillery position could only be established on a rooftop. Considering that operating artillery required technical skill, Spring figured it was best not to rely too heavily on mortar fire support. They might need a dozen rounds just to adjust their trajectory, and anything could happen on the battlefield. Meanwhile, as Spring's company rushed toward 65th Street to intercept the massive Tide, a logistics unit composed of 200 Strength-type players, 20 two-headed oxen, and 300 NPCs shuttled back and forth between Bet Street and 68th Street, racing against time to construct the first line of defense against the Tide. This logistics detachment was led by Spare the Blade, the chief architect of Shelter 404. Road conditions in the urban area were complicated. From the northern suburbs to the edge of the Fifth Ring Road, two-wheeled motorcycles could barely get by, but deep into the Fifth Ring Road toward 68th Street, they had to rely solely on two-headed oxen and bicycles. Fortunately, Chu Guang had possessed the foresight to transport construction materials to Bet Street beforehand, storing them in the manor's warehouse, which prevented their supply lines from stretching too thin for this battle. A stockpile of over a million rounds of ammunition was enough to sustain a regiment-scale engagement. The new industrial zone was running at full capacity; its average daily output of 30,000 rounds could theoretically be pushed to 50,000 in a pinch. Veteran players operating around Yuanxi Town were on their way back, and Boulder City had also been drawn into the Tide, deploying troops deep within the Third Ring Road to suppress it. The longer this war dragged on, the more advantageous it would be for Shelter 404! Whether they could hold the Tide at 65th Street would be the key to winning this campaign! Night fell, shrouding the streets in darkness. As sunlight faded, gnawers continuously crawled out of storefronts and alleys along the road, scrambling on all fours over the rubble-strewn street toward the players advancing on 65th Street. Yet beasts were just beasts. They clearly overestimated their strength and were swiftly riddled with bullets, tumbling into ditches and mud pits along the roadside. And those gnawers lucky enough to reach close quarters fared no better against the players waiting in full battle array. A Strength-type player above Level 5, wielding 10 points in Strength, could effortlessly split a gnawer's skull with a single axe strike—let alone the Awakened! Gnawers that plunged into the ranks were like sheep rushing into a pack of wolves, promptly hacked to pieces by entrenching shovels and hand axes, or having their skulls caved in with rifle butts. In the shadows, a muscular Crawler, two meters long, clambered out from a high-rise window on all fours, clinging to the wall like an ape. Its crimson eyes glared down at the street as it bared its teeth, letting out a menacing growl. Seizing an opening, it shoved off hard with its hind legs, its massive frame swooping like an eagle to crash violently into the player formation. Its outstretched arm was poised to tear the humans before it to shreds. Yet at that exact instant, a whistling screech tore through the air, hurtling straight for its face. The hurled javelin hit like an artillery shell, detonating the beast's head on impact. Decapitated, the Crawler plummeted like a severed kite, crashing heavily to the ground with a dull thud that kicked up a cloud of dust and concrete debris. "Holy crap, awesome!" "Who the hell brings a javelin?!" Seeing everyone's astonished looks, Kakarot grinned and weighed another javelin in his hand. "Save your ammo, everyone. There aren't many gnawers right now. If we can solve it with our fists, don't waste bullets." Commander Spring nodded in agreement. "He's right. Try not to waste ammo; we've got a tough fight ahead!" They pushed through three consecutive city blocks. Along the way, they fought countless skirmishes; while they burned through some ammunition, fortunately, no casualties were sustained. The iconic clock tower came into view—65th Street was right ahead! Looking out over the dead-silent street, Commander Spring exhaled in relief, his taut nerves relaxing slightly. The Tide hadn't arrived yet! They had made it just in time! Without a moment's delay, Commander Spring strode to the front of the ranks and shouted to all the players: "Squad A, move up and lay razor wire! Use your entrenching shovels to clear out cover along the street! Haul any concrete blocks out of craters, dig as deep as you can where the dirt is loose, and don't waste time where it's too solid to break!" "Squad B takes the buildings on the left; Squad C takes the right! I want firing positions along the street covering every blind spot on this battlefield!" "We've only got three hours left... If they're fast, we'll make contact with the first wave of gnawers before ten o'clock!" "Everyone, move out!" A chorus of roaring cheers rose in response. Though the commotion drew quite a few wandering gnawers, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Resolving trouble before the battle started was far better than having to waste focus on stragglers wandering the perimeter once the main clash began. Leading Squad B to the left flank of the battlefield, Kakarot assigned tasks to each team, clearing gnawers out of several key buildings before personally leading several machine gunners upstairs. Squad B had been allocated two water-cooled Maxim heavy machine guns—replicas manufactured by No. 81 Steel Mill, weighing 25 kilograms and firing 7mm full-power rifle cartridges. Each gun was equipped with six ammo boxes containing a total of 1,500 rounds. In addition, there were twelve 20mm "Lance" anti-tank rifles and two newly developed 37mm "Heavy Lances" fresh off the production line at No. 81 Steel Mill. If the former could barely pass as a rifle, the latter firmly belonged in the realm of artillery. Without a fixed mount, likely only a Strength-type Awakened could wield it. Deploying the two water-cooled Maxims on the third floor where the sightlines were best, Kakarot hoisted the 37mm Heavy Lance onto his shoulder and pulled out binoculars to gaze toward the south. The fractured Changling Elevated Road had collapsed into multiple disconnected sections. Some stretched for over a hundred meters while others were reduced to bare piers, looking like solitary islands rising out of the city. Farther away, the view was completely swallowed by dense mist. Kakarot stowed his binoculars and gestured for his squad members to put on their gas masks. Nearby, the men of Squad A had already strung wire along several side paths flanking the elevated road. Though a few strands of wire could hardly halt a gnawer's advance, they could at least channel and restrict their movement. Resting his hands on the machine gun, a Constitution-type player whose ID was Broken Leg Kevin couldn't help asking, "Just how many monsters are out there..." Ten Punch Man: "No idea... Intelligence says a hundred thousand. Maybe more, maybe less. In fog that thick, it's all guesswork. Who knows the real number?" Catching Ghosts at Graves: "Do we even have a hundred thousand bullets?" Kakarot was silent for a moment before answering uncertainly, "Maybe... Logistics promised they'd do everything they could to deliver ammo to us. But if they don't..." He patted the hand axe hanging at his waist. "We use this." According to their prearranged plan, if Squad A collapsed, Squad B would shift from the left flank to plug the center. If Squad B went down too, Squad C would take the line. The exact number of oncoming gnawers was impossible to calculate. When vast throngs of fruiting bodies gathered, the grayish-green spore haze solidified like an opaque cloud, completely veiling whatever lurked within. The crude fortifications were finished. Squad A withdrew to the defensive line. The grayish-green fog rolled closer. Having evidently spotted the humans blocking their path, the gnawers sped up, and those at the vanguard broke into a sprint. Rotten snarls and the crunchy scraping of feet on crushed gravel drifted out from the mist! Standing rare and tall on the front line clad only in cheap gear, Commander Spring gripped his Scythe assault rifle and bellowed to the players on the line: "Brothers!" "The Tide is coming!" "We must hold for at least twelve hours! Do whatever it takes to stop the Tide from pushing north! Buy time for our brothers building the line in the rear!" "We may not carry our EXP back, but glory will be with us!" "Fire—!" Rat-tat-tat-tat—! Muzzles spat fiery tongues into the dark. Leading the barrage were the six water-cooled Maxims distributed across the left, center, and right positions. Arced rounds poured like rain, skimming over the obstacles beneath the overpass to weave a deadly net across the fractured battlefield, tearing the night wide open! Slammed by this sudden deluge of lead and iron, the foremost gnawers collapsed like scythed wheat. Flesh clashed with gunpowder! The gnawers surged onward heedless of death; as the front rank fell, those behind trampled the corpses to press forward. In mere minutes, severed limbs and shattered torsos littered the ground, without a single intact corpse to be found—looking like ground meat churning out of an industrial grinder. The dense charge was quickly shattered. The few stragglers that slipped through were picked off by semi-automatic fire from Squad A, needing no wasted machine gun ammo. Blue smoke drifted from the machine gun barrel. Lying by the third-floor window, Broken Leg Kevin released his trigger finger and let out a sigh of relief. "Easier than I thought!" Marauders at least knew how to take cover, crawl forward, or toss smoke grenades. But these gnawers seemed to have no concept of death, charging even more recklessly than clones. Yet against heavy machine gun fire, such courage was indistinguishable from suicide! On Squad A's defensive line, Battlefield Atmosphere Group picked off the final gnawer and lowered his rifle barrel. "Looks like the Tide stopped." As gunfire ceased, an eerie silence settled over the entire street. Staring grimly ahead, Commander Spring nodded slowly. "The bad news is, the fortifications we spent two hours preparing are basically ruined." I'm the Darkest swallowed hard. "That's an illusion... They're still advancing. I can sense them—and something terrifying among them." Battlefield Atmosphere Group slapped him on the shoulder, grinning without an ounce of fear. "Stop scaring yourself. Just lock and load and fight!" Right then, a rookie beside them suddenly spoke up. "By the way, why didn't those gnawers charge all at once? Why come in waves?" Another player frowned. "Yeah... They only charged for ten minutes and called it quits." Not even as enduring as me. Standing in the position, Commander Spring replied calmly, "If tens of thousands of units bunch up together, their advance slows down. Stepping on each other's heels is the worst—one trips, and everything behind devolves into chaos. When frontage is limited, advancing in echelons is the most efficient choice." "These gnawers might be clumsy, but they aren't brainless... Something must be commanding them!" Gazing at the razor wire draped in flesh and blood, and into the thickening fog ahead, Spring couldn't suppress a growing sense of unease. In that previous wave of mutants, not only were there no Tyrants, but not even a single Crawler had appeared. Using cannon fodder to probe, followed by the main force... Were these mutants truly just the fruiting bodies of slime mold? The silence lasted for about ten minutes. Just then, a piercing shriek suddenly erupted from the grayish-green mist. Every heart clenched, and trigger fingers tightened as one. I'm the Darkest felt his heart leap into his throat as an intense premonition of danger surged through him. It was here!