"Awakening Serum!"

The red-brick house stood beside the outpost guard station. When the Tide had broken out earlier, it served as a temporary relief station to combat the plague stemming from decaying corpses, briefly housing nearby residents who had developed fever symptoms. After the Tide subsided and the issues of plague and spore clouds were resolved, it naturally transitioned into a health clinic serving the local population. Most of the medical personnel working here now were temporary hands trained by Heya, recruited primarily from literate refugees. On one hand, they assisted Heya with necessary clinical trials on wastelanders; on the other, they handled basic medical treatment and first aid. By the standards of the Human Alliance, these medical workers could hardly be considered professionals—some barely even qualified as quacks, having taken up their posts after watching just one or two online lectures on their VMs. Even so, knowing how to dress wounds and stop bleeding made them vastly superior to tribal witch doctors who treated illnesses with folk remedies. The people of the wasteland maintained exceedingly low expectations for doctors. They didn't demand a full cure; as long as they didn't die, that was good enough. More than fifty wooden single beds lined the spacious room, fully occupied at the moment. These men formed the core strength of the guard team. Many were veterans of two or more battles, and some had followed Chu Guang since several versions ago. The reason they lay here was certainly neither injury nor illness, but because they had volunteered for an experiment conducted by Shelter 404's Medical Lab and received injections of induced expression serum. Nurses in long white coats moved among them, inquiring about each person's clinical reactions and recording key details and physical traits onto their VMs. "Clinical studies indicate that the probability of awakening is relatively high between the ages of 15 and 30, after which it gradually declines... These induced differentiation serums have cleared up many of my puzzles." Standing beside Chu Guang, Heya handed him a tablet as usual, beaming with excitement as she explained her findings. As always, Chu Guang couldn't make heads or tails of her papers and colorful charts, but he politely skimmed the contents on the tablet before cutting straight to the chase. "I'm not interested in technical jargon. Just give me the bottom line—like what those exact probabilities are." "The probability is 27% for the first dose, 15% for the second, 9% for the third, and 3% for the fourth..." Heya said. "Of course, these are theoretical estimates, which are quite different from empirical statistics. Our sample size is far too small right now, and selective gene expression carries too many uncertainties. I can't give you an absolutely definitive figure." *If the first dose doesn't awaken them, they can actually get a second?* A flicker of surprise crossed Chu Guang's face. "What about side effects?" "After the injection, there is a persistent fever for two to three days, accompanied by muscle weakness, lethargy, and similar symptoms, though it's generally safe," Heya replied. "As for other side effects... aside from making it harder to produce offspring, none have been observed so far. However, I can't rule out future complications, so I wouldn't recommend rolling it out across society on a massive scale. After all, I never heard of this stuff during the Prosperity Era. It was most likely an unfinished product that the researchers themselves weren't entirely confident in." Chu Guang cleared his throat lightly. "You don't need to tell me that; I'm well aware." The daily yield of the induced expression serum was minimal—only around twenty vials a day—and for now, it could only be produced through the black box. Considering that the cold fusion batteries powering the black box were non-renewable resources, the hidden cost of a single dose was far higher than it appeared on the surface. Whether evaluated by production capacity, cost, or broader social implications, this serum was not suited for widespread rollout. "By the way, what about the shelter residents? Any reaction after their injections?" Chu Guang recalled that the very first subjects to receive the serum were the lucky players who had won the grand prize during the festival lottery—twenty in total, some already Awakened, others not yet. After all, players could respawn. Even if something went wrong, it could easily be brushed off with 'Sorry, server bug,' followed by a bit of compensation at most. Distributing compensation during a closed beta was already the pinnacle of industry conscience! "Based on clinical observation, the serum produced very limited effects on the first batch of subjects—so limited they were practically negligible," Heya said. "My working hypothesis is that this may be related to the unique nature of your shelter residents' DNA. The expression level of your DNA is inherently high, and it follows a stable, rigorous evolutionary path... which is precisely what intrigues me most." Having heard Heya's explanation, Chu Guang nodded thoughtfully. He tried to process the logic. The induced expression serum essentially functioned as a catalyst, accelerating awakening for those with dormant potential, but possessed virtually no effect on those who had already awakened. Meanwhile, the clones manufactured by Shelter 404 were extraordinarily distinct. Because they were bred using specifically reinforced genomes, their compatibility with this serum was very low. Simply put, this serum served primarily to enhance the physical capabilities of wasteland natives, though such improvements were largely arbitrary. Some felt their strength increase; others merely felt their reaction speed sharpen; some experienced both, though neither trait showed drastic growth. "Understood." Chu Guang returned the tablet to Heya, walked into the ward, and approached the bed nearest the door. A young boy lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling as if lost in thought. Chu Guang recognized him—a fourteen-year-old youth who had followed him ever since being rescued from the Bloodhand Clan's dungeon, and the youngest member of the guard team. Back in the civilized society before his transmigration, this greenhorn wouldn't even have been old enough for high school. Yet in a wasteland where human life was as cheap as dirt, many of his peers were already fathers. "How are you feeling?" Hearing the voice beside him, the youth turned his head. The moment he saw Chu Guang's face, his dazed eyes snapped wide awake. "Lord Administrator?! What brings you here?" At the sound of his voice, the others in the ward turned surprised glances toward them. Beside himself with delight, Lü Bei moved to climb out of bed, but Chu Guang raised a hand to stop him. "No need for formalities. Just tell me how you feel." After saying that, Chu Guang cast a glance at the others in the ward, signaling that they could relax, then looked back at Lü Bei. Seeing the Administrator visiting him in person, Lü Bei's cheeks flushed with excitement, his spirits soaring. "My lord, I feel amazing right now!" Chu Guang nodded, looking at the resting youth with solemn sincerity. "Thank you for your service to the New Alliance. If any physical complications arise in the future, the Alliance will look after you for the rest of your life." Sitting upright in bed, Lü Bei nodded slightly. "Please don't say that, my lord! It's my honor to share your burdens! Besides, I feel much stronger than before! If I ever face marauders again... I definitely won't be as helpless as I was." The surprise attack on New Year's Eve had cost the guard team dearly, and he had lost an older comrade who had always looked after him during that battle. Chu Guang rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat in reassurance. "You all did wonderfully. Don't be too hard on yourself. And even if you've gained greater strength, remember never to grow careless, and never use it for evil." Pausing for a beat, Chu Guang continued. "I plan to establish a special unit independent of the guard team, called the... Guards Corps. It will consist entirely of Awakened. Are you willing to join?" Lü Bei straightened his back, clenching his right fist against his left chest, his eyes shining with fierce conviction. "I am! You saved my life, my lord. Even if you ordered me to die, I wouldn't bat an eye!" Chu Guang offered him a gentle nod and said warmly, "I will remember your loyalty." "Now rest well." The first round of injections was complete. Of the fifty participants in the experiment, only sixteen had awakened. The remaining thirty-four unawakened subjects still had three more chances for injections, with the decision left entirely to them. Yet not a single person opted out. Given such a chance to grow stronger, had there not been strict dosage limits, they would have gladly upped the dose and taken all four shots in one sitting. Combined with four experienced veterans selected from the previously awakened guards, Chu Guang intended to organize these twenty into an independent corps. In truth, assembling a unit composed entirely of Awakened wasn't a spur-of-the-moment idea; he had entertained similar thoughts well before unlocking the beta version. While awakening was uncommon on the wasteland, it was by no means nonexistent. Even before acquiring the serum, over a dozen guards had awakened naturally. However, unlike players who awakened by accumulating development progress, natural Awakened showed little pattern in their abilities. Their attributes were relatively balanced, and they rarely specialized heavily in a single attribute the way players did. Yet one thing was certain: Awakened possessed combat prowess and battlefield survivability far superior to ordinary people. They were the equivalent of super soldiers! Chu Guang planned to select the most loyal fighters among the guards, administer the serum to them, and outfit them with 10 sets of Heavy Cavalry exoskeletons, 100 sets of Light Cavalry exoskeletons, and matching small reconnaissance drones—amounting to half the equipment recovered from Level B4—to forge a "Guards Corps" composed of wasteland Awakened! As for the other half of the gear from B4, Chu Guang listed it in the NPC shop, letting Boss Xia sell it to players who met the level requirements. Chu Guang intended to cap the size of this Guards Corps between 100 and 120 soldiers, roughly equivalent to a company. As a standing force of the New Alliance, they would undertake different battlefield responsibilities from players, handling missions that were inconvenient for players to take part in or that players simply had no interest in. For this unit, Chu Guang had only one requirement: Loyalty! Beyond the Guards Corps, Chu Guang also planned to establish the New Alliance's First Corps and Second Corps. Currently, Wrench served as commander of the First Corps, and Liu Ding as commander of the Second Corps. Their junior officers were mostly veterans from the guard team who had fought in two or more battles and had received training and guidance from Vannus. Not only could NPCs enlist, but players could join as well. After all, not every player enjoyed the social aspects of an MMORPG. Plenty of solo players preferred questing and interacting with NPCs to enjoy an immersive role-playing experience; the antics of goofy players only detracted from their immersion. If you asked such players to lead a squad, they'd find it nothing short of annoying. There were quite a few players like this on the server. Many had grinded their Melee and Shooting proficiencies up to Level 5, yet their Leadership proficiency remained flat at 0. Why? Because for players who disliked leading, squad management was genuinely a chore. Just memorizing every handle in the squad was hard enough, let alone building rapport with everyone and ensuring each person did their part. Beyond their duties and responsibilities as standing units, the First and Second Corps also bore the responsibility of absorbing solo players and newcomers. While Chu Guang visited the clinic in person to check on the test subjects injected with the "awakening serum," twenty heavily armed players had already arrived in the eastern district of Qingquan City. They were split into two ten-man squads, every single one an Awakened. A military operation jointly orchestrated by the Burning Corps and the Jungle Corps was quietly unfolding... *** Inside the pitch-black room, moss crept across the shattered floorboards. Two hide coats hung inside a half-open iron locker, and a yellowed pamphlet lay discarded in the corner—titled *Visitor's Guide to Qingquan City's Third Ecological Protection Park*. This had once been the security office of the park, though it had seen neither visitors nor security guards for a very long time—only a band of marauders who had usurped the roost. From the radio on the desk drifted pre-war classical music broadcast by the *Voice of Boulder City*. With his boots propped on the desk, Tus casually lit a hand-rolled cigarette, narrowing his eyes slightly as he watched the smoke curl and dissipate. He could no longer remember how long he had lived such easy, comfortable days—maybe ten years, maybe more. He used to keep a diary, but he couldn't even remember how to write those two words anymore, so after a few tries, he had given up. Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Tus routinely slid open the drawer containing his revolver, only relaxing his brow slightly when he saw his confidant appear in the doorway. Even so, he didn't push the drawer back in. "Boss, the goods for the next trade are ready." The man in the hide coat bowed his head slightly. His bulging muscles looked formidable, but his face looked none too bright. Hearing that the shipment was ready, Tus opened his squinted eyes a fraction and swung his legs off the desk. "Take me to see it." The burly man nodded respectfully. "Right away, Boss." The two walked down the corridor one after the other to the lower level. Here lay a circular walkway encircling a central area as large as an athletic field, enclosed from floor to ceiling by fiberglass walls that completely sealed the interior from the outside. In the pre-war era, this place had housed rare animals beloved by children. Now, the marauders used it as a holding pen for slaves. Workbenches stood scattered across the open floor. Emaciated, scantily clad slaves sat before them, the most valuable equipment on their bodies likely being a pair of latex gloves. With hands like dried reeds, they plucked red clumps of fungus from wooden crates beside them, placed them into petri dishes, and meticulously separated the active ingredients, terrified of making a single mistake. Beside them, marauders clutching pipe rifles glared watchfully over their work. It was worth noting that the red fungal clumps in the slaves' hands were not mutant slime mold; there was no relation between the two. The thumb-thick red hyphae twined together like noodles. Because they closely resembled animal brains at a glance, wastelanders referred to them as brain fungus or brain mushrooms. This type of fungus typically grew beneath trees with high iron content. Because harvesting caused them to release red spores with potent hallucinogenic effects, artificial cultivation was exceedingly difficult. Consequently, stimulants made from brain fungus—such as "Great Strength Pills" and "Vigor Elixirs"—fetched hefty prices. Interestingly, however, the red spores had only a negligible effect on Ironback Apes, who occasionally munched on them like fruit. Thanks to the bluecoats who had once been stationed here, and thanks to that neat gizmo of theirs called a "mind interference field," Tus had earned a fortune in chips by ordering around the apes outside. Those apes were far easier to boss around than slaves. Not only could they gather raw ingredients for drug production, but they could also help him raid passing travelers. Their only drawback was a lack of brains; using bows, spears, and Molotov cocktails was about the limit of what they could handle. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered keeping the slaves in the cage at all. Having the apes compound the drugs would have saved two tubs of nutrient paste every day. Tus's men hauled crates of small white medicine vials out of the "cage," leaving behind only two buckets filled with green slime, which they rapped with their rifle butts. The clanging sound acted like a signal. Upon hearing it, the slaves surged toward the two iron buckets like starving, rabid dogs, grabbing handfuls of the unidentified nutrient paste and shoving it into their mouths. The two marauders guarding the entrance watched the slaves fight over food like hogs with sneering expressions, then slammed the cage door shut. As the leader—or boss—of these marauders, Tus had zero interest in the slaves. His entire focus was fixed on the ten crates before him. Ten crates of "Great Strength Pills"—fifty kilograms of product in total. Not only did mercenaries love using these to cut corners, but the noble lords of Boulder City's inner city consumed quite a lot as well. After all, the effects were immediate: they made a person stronger in battle, and just as capable outside of it. As for side effects? Just bloodshot eyes. So long as you didn't down an entire bottle at once, there was nothing major to worry about. "...The Dagger Gang from Boulder City is very interested in our goods. They're willing to pay us three thousand chips," said a man with a prosthetic eye fitted in his left socket, bowing respectfully toward Tus. His name was Kunke, and he too had been fond of Great Strength Pills, though he had quit after one of his eyeballs burst. Hearing the Dagger Gang's offer, Tus blew his top and cursed, "Those bloodsucking swindlers are getting more shameless by the day! Don't think I don't know a single 1.2-gram tablet sells for 10 chips out there! "Tell them 100 chips per kilogram is the absolute floor—not a single chip less than five thousand! If they don't want it, we'll find someone else. Also, besides women, food, white sugar, soap, and nutrient paste, tell them to bring more guns for the next trade. Don't let them even think of fobbing me off with those damn iron pipes." A New Alliance had suddenly sprung up to the north. Initially, Tus hadn't paid it much mind. Qingquan City was huge, after all, and the straight-line distance from the eastern shore of Ling Lake alone was over twenty kilometers—twenty kilometers of terrain potentially rougher than mountain tracks. His stronghold was hidden deep in this "primeval forest." Most wastelanders who saw such thick vegetation avoided it by instinct, never dreaming of pushing deeper inside. For that very reason, he hadn't even worried when the Bone Chewer tribe swept in; at worst, he could have just joined them. Recently, however, word had reached him that Brown Farm had been annexed, and a bunch of folks were clamoring about abolishing slavery and expelling marauders, giving Tus a lingering sense of unease. Abolishing slavery? Expelling marauders? Did those people have nothing better to do? Besides, how could they even tell who was a marauder? Worse yet, five uninvited guests had shown up outside yesterday, and his subordinates reported they wore two sets of exoskeletons, putting Tus on high alert. Those people might very well have come from the northern suburbs! Considering he might clash with those lunatic bluecoats down the road, Tus felt he couldn't keep indulging in leisure with his men forever; he needed to stockpile more weapons for self-defense. If circumstances permitted, he was even considering arming those apes with firearms. Kunke gave a grave nod. "Understood, Boss." Watching Kunke walk toward the door, Tus felt his brow ease slightly. He casually scooped a bottle of Great Strength Pills from the crate, slipped it into his pocket, and prepared to head back to his bedroom for some rest. Just then, a thunderous explosion suddenly boomed outside, rattling the walls and floor. The slaves crowded around the iron buckets lifted their heads in terror, looking all around. The marauders guarding the cage entrance also grew tense, gripping their rifles tight. Steadying himself against the corridor railing, Tus glared angrily in both directions, grabbed his confidant by the collar, and roared, "What happened?!" The henchman was equally dazed—partly stunned by the blast, partly shaken by his boss's roar. "I—I'll go check outside." "Get moving!" Tus kicked him in the rear and cursed under his breath as he hurried upstairs. That explosion seemed to raise the curtain on a deadly symphony. Blast after blast thundered around the ecological park, tremors vibrating through the soles of his boots and straight to his gut. Dull as he might be, Tus knew what was happening outside. Rushing back into the security office he used as his headquarters, he grabbed the walkie-talkie from the desk, keyed the mic, and bellowed, "Enemy attack! "I don't care where you are or what you're doing—grab your weapons and get the hell out of your rooms right now! Prepare for battle! "Don't let them take our treasure! "Not a single damn thing!" The corridors of the ecological park reverberated with shrill blares from the intercom. The confidant sent to scout outside had just shoved open the iron door to the rooftop when a shell screeched down into the forest a hundred meters away. *Boom—!* Fire flashed, kicking up billowing smoke and shattered stone. Terrified by the blast, the marauder ducked his head, kept low, and forced himself to jog forward along the curved railing until he finally reached the watchtower built from timber and rebar. The entire dome-shaped ecological park was covered in vegetation, making the watchtower hidden here as inconspicuous as a branch in a forest. The marauder rushed up, about to curse out the lookout on duty, only to find a corpse lying behind the woven-vine blind, a hole blown clean through its head. His hands and feet went icy cold, and a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead in an instant. Every hair on his body stood on end. He was just about to turn around and flee when his chest felt as if it had been slammed by a truck, the sheer kinetic force pinning him flat to the ground. "Two down... Damn! Brother Fang Chang actually guessed right," Ye Shi muttered, lying prone on the half-collapsed rooftop as he cycled the bolt, ejecting a smoking casing. "Well... it wasn't purely a guess," Fang Chang replied, holding binoculars and scrutinizing the structures ahead. "Bows, arrows, and rebar might be one thing, but those apes even had Molotov cocktails. Bottles can be scavenged, but the fuel could hardly have been brewed by apes." Lao Bai nodded in agreement. "Yeah. And though those apes strictly stuck to the forest, they attacked right as we drew near the ecological park. It felt too deliberate." Kuang Feng didn't speak. He controlled the drone, helping the players manning the artillery behind them correct their coordinates. Because the foliage below was too dense to pinpoint the exact positions of the Ironback Apes, they opted for an area barrage tactic. Sixteen salvos concluded. All thirty-two 88 mm mortar shells were expended. The players operating the mortars stashed the tubes in a nearby building and equipped their frontline gear. Meanwhile, the roar of a propeller sounded from the sky as a wooden plane glided into the players' view, wings spread wide. "Mosquito! Holy crap, Mosquito finally made it!" Jieyan waved excitedly toward the sky. Spotting his teammates, Mosquito grinned and flashed a thumbs-up. Then he pulled down his homemade goggles and gripped the flight stick with both hands, pulling the nose up to position himself for a strafing dive. Midnight Chicken Slayer wasted no words, drawing a gleaming one-handed axe and a shotgun with a barrel thicker than a fist as he rallied his boys for combat. Every member of the Jungle Corps was outfitted with the cheap, reliable KV-1 exoskeleton. Except for their commander, Midnight Chicken Slayer, almost every man wielded an LD-47 light machine gun, looking like a detachment of Rambos. The Burning Corps, on the other hand, was a mixed-arms team: heavy infantry acting as mobile cover and ammo crates, high-mobility light infantry, and even non-human players. Players like Fang Chang and Kuang Feng, adept with specialized gear, had brought along Pu-9 submachine guns tailored for anti-personnel close-quarters combat, ready to clear the building room by room. Scavenger excitedly lashed the ground with his tail, the steel claws strapped to his arms glinting coldly. His amber pupils contracted, and a bloodthirsty hiss escaped his bared fangs. "It's slaughter time!"