Blood-Stained Chips

At the very moment Lao Bai's voice fell, the index finger of his right hand flicked off his rifle's safety. Beside him, the twenty-odd players from the Burning Corps did the same. The undisguised murderous aura caused the burly man named Iron Thorn's eyes to narrow slightly. "Hey, wait, is there some kind of misunderstanding between us?" Cold sweat seeped from his forehead. Raising both hands, he backed away while attempting to diffuse the tense, knife-edge atmosphere. He had no idea how he had offended this man, but intuition warned him that the situation was perilous in the extreme. "No." This time, Iron Thorn finally understood the words spoken by the man before him. And because of that, a look of profound terror was stamped completely into his eyes. "...The Alliance never negotiates with marauders, nor does it do business with marauders. Every cent you earn could turn into a bullet fired at civilized people." Fang Chang unslung the Daybreak longbow from his back, drawing an arrow and nocking it against the bowstring. "So the deal is off." "Since you believe in the rule of the fist, then let our fists do the talking!" "You talk too fucking much!" Iron Thorn roared once he retreated to a safe distance, a savage glint flashing in his eyes. "Open fire on them! Kill them all!" However— The chatter of machine gun fire never sounded. Instead, a gunshot like a clap of thunder cut short his smug thrill of striking first. In a window not far away, the man prone behind the machine gun had the top of his head burst into a cloud of blood before slumping heavily to the floor. At the same time, the assault rifles held in the players' hands snapped in unison toward his direction. "Light 'em up!" Crisply issuing the order to fire, Lao Bai pulled his trigger in the same instant. Rat-tat-tat—! Long tongues of fire leaped from muzzle brakes as bursts of amber tracers ripped across the air, utterly shattering the street's tranquility. Iron Thorn and several henchmen beside him were instantly riddled into sieves, collapsing to the ground before they could even groan. Everything happened in a flash. The gunmen hired by Edmund had no time to react, caught completely flat-footed by the sudden erupting barrage. Still, their reflexes were reasonably fast. From the second-floor windows of the cinema, rifles quickly poked out one after another. The gunmen stationed there began returning fire down at the players. Yet what they faced was one of the Alliance's Tier-0 corps. On the battlefields of Xizhou City, these players had already weathered countless trials of iron, fire, and death. How could a bunch of swaggering thugs hope to withstand them? Whether in tactics, fighting spirit, or urban combat proficiency, the two sides simply weren't in the same league. The players fanned out with practiced ease, quickly pinpointing the firing positions along the cinema's perimeter, and retaliated with alternating suppressing fire in seamless coordination. Though there were a good hundred gunmen inside the cinema, against the offensive of these twenty-odd players, they were pinned down so hard they couldn't even lift their heads! To say nothing of the snipers perched on nearby tall buildings, who reaped every exposed head like calling roll. Even if not every crack of a rifle claimed a life, the unseen death that could drop upon their skulls at any moment exerted immense psychological pressure. Two gunmen crouched near the entrance tried to shut the reinforced, retrofitted gate. Right then, an arrow drilled through the doorway with a whoosh, bursting into fire and light in an instant. Explosive shrapnel sprayed in every direction, killing the two guards on the spot. At the same time, a drone with folded rotors glided down from high altitude and, with a wasp-like buzzing drone, darted straight into a second-floor window of the cinema. An earth-shattering blast roared. Orange-red flames billowed from the darkened window, blasting away clouds of grit and dust, showering gravel and concrete chips down from the half-collapsed outer wall. In the open ground on the first floor, slaves huddled inside iron cages, trembling in sheer terror. And across the second-floor windows, every muzzle previously lurking there fell completely silent. A relatively enclosed space multiplied the destructive force of a blast wave. The Switchblade that had dropped from the sky possessed power far beyond the gunmen's expectations. Most of those who weren't killed outright were thoroughly concussed and dazed. "Prepare to breach!" Seizing the opportunity, Lao Bai raised his left fist, gave a crisp forward signal, and was the first to push forward. The three squad members beside him followed closely, rapidly charging toward the main entrance. The other four four-man fireteams did the same, spreading out and advancing like a thumbtack pressed squarely home. The gate fell in short order. Next was the staircase. Clattering gunfire drove upward from bottom to top. Gunmen attempting to mount a defense died one after another, tumbling down the stairs. Breaching onto the second floor. Lao Bai kept his rifle raised, issuing clear-and-sweep orders to all squads, then pushed forward with his own team. Assaulting the second floor from three directions, the five squads combed through every corridor, screening hall, row of seats, and corner. A gunman propped against a wall, stumbling as he tried to escape through an emergency exit, ran smack into a cluster of gun barrels. Gripping his rifle, Sha Bi glared at the man and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Drop your weapon!" Yet the gunman paid him no heed, even attempting to raise his gun and shoot back. Seeing that surrender was off the table, Sha Bi pulled the trigger without hesitation, sending the guy on his way with a burst. Looking down at the corpse in a pool of blood and his smoking muzzle, Sha Bi grumbled a curse. "Fuck, I used the Human Alliance language this time!" Captives could at least be turned in for contribution points and silver coins. Corpses were only good for collecting active substance. "Maybe he went deaf from that Switchblade blast just now," Kidney Warrior chimed in beside him. "...Uh, that actually makes sense." On the other side, having cleared the northern sector, Fang Chang tapped his earpiece with his index finger to report their status. Simultaneously, reports from the other fireteams crackled over the comm channel. "West rooms cleared." "East rooms cleared." "Corridor secured." "Operating room located... Three doctors on site, one suspected to be Edmund." "Wait for me there." Dropping that line, Fang Chang opened his VM to check the map coordinates and immediately headed for the operating room. When he arrived, a tall, thin man had both hands raised, having backed away from the operating table into a corner. He was wearing an apron stained with blood and grease, resembling the kind worn by butchers or cooks. Beside him stood a man and a woman in matching attire, evidently his assistants, their faces pale with terror. The earlier explosion and rapid firefight had frightened them nearly out of their wits. A boy lay on the operating table, roughly twelve or thirteen years old, relatively sturdy, looking like someone accustomed to manual labor. At this moment, however, his breathing was faint, like a flickering candle in the wind. Fang Chang noticed a fresh surgical incision on his left abdomen. Sensing the thickening murderous intent in everyone's eyes, Edmund stammered tremulously, "I—I didn't kidnap him here..." "So he volunteered?" "I paid money!" "How much?" "Fifty... no, not just fifty. Another three hundred was tribute to Mr. West. That gentleman is the second-in-command of the Dagger Gang, and this kid lives on his turf." Fang Chang had heard of the Dagger Gang, though only in passing. However. Now was not the time to debate that. He glanced at the boy on the table, then back at the man. "What's his condition right now?" Edmund said nervously, "The—the surgery had a little accident... That bomb you threw just now made my hand slip." Fang Chang asked, "Can he still be saved?" Edmund's face twisted into an uneasy grimace. "Y-Yes... but I'm afraid both his kidneys will have to be replaced." Reading the translation on his VM, Lao Bai stayed silent. Glancing at a teammate beside him, he took a briefcase from the player's hands and set it down on the metal stand beside the operating table. Under Edmund's astonished gaze, Fang Chang fixed his eyes on the man and continued, "Put them in." "After that, we'll discuss what to do with you." A quick glance at the briefcase sent a twinge of heartache through Edmund. That was supposed to be his! Yet the grim muzzles trained on him left him without a shred of courage to voice the thought, leaving him only able to curse these faithless bastards in his heart. He swallowed hard and nodded frantically. "A-All right..." ... The operation proceeded relatively smoothly. The boy's breathing gradually stabilized. Although the anesthesia had not fully worn off, he had regained a slight degree of consciousness. Edmund and his two assistants were marched outside the operating room by Lao Bai and the others. Looking down at the boy lying on the table, Fang Chang spoke. "What's your name?" The parched lips parted slightly. "Hang..." Single-syllable names were quite common on the wasteland. Fang Chang, who often gathered intel in taverns, had even met people named Table and Stool. "Where are your parents?" "Near... the Great Wall." Probably the slums. Grasping the general situation, Fang Chang paused for a moment before continuing in a gentle tone, "We'll take you back. Don't mention anything about us to anyone. It's for your own good." While Awakened parts weren't valuable enough to drive everyone mad, having them inside a kid was another matter entirely. Edmund and his assistants would be sent to a POW camp. As long as the boy didn't go telling people he had Awakened parts inside him, no one would ever know. No one would even know an operation had taken place. "Thank you..." As he spoke, a bewildered look clouded the boy's eyes. He didn't understand why these people were doing this. When he worked odd jobs at the trading post, people couldn't have cared less if kids like him dropped dead. Yet just as he was about to leave this world, someone reached out and pulled him back. Watching the figure disappear beyond the operating room doorway, the boy rested the back of his head against the pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling and muttering under his breath. What strange people... ... Stepping out of the operating room, Fang Chang stood at the door and looked toward Edmund in the corridor. Under that gaze, Edmund's heart jumped into his throat, and he babbled nervously, "I—I saved the boy..." Fang Chang said curtly, "As you should." Edmund's expression froze. Only after a long pause did he say in a subservient tone, "Do you want money? My chips, everything here is yours! I only beg you to spare my life—" Fang Chang cut him off, stating flatly, "Of course we'll take your ill-gotten gains. Those are our spoils of war." Hearing this completely righteous declaration, Edmund nearly choked on a mouthful of blood. Right then, however, a thought struck him, and a distinct look of panic rose in his eyes. "You... are from the New Alliance?" Fang Chang gave him a curious look. "Gracie didn't tell you?" "He didn't... He only told me a seller had Awakened parts and asked if I was interested. As long as I gave him a cut, he'd introduce the seller to me." As he stammered in fright, a flicker of bitter regret surfaced in Edmund's eyes. "That damned bastard, I knew he was up to no good!" Several players exchanged strange looks. A scumbag calling someone else a scumbag—pretty rich. "I'm not interested in your petty grudges." Cutting off Edmund's muttering, Fang Chang looked at him and said, "You, your assistants, and the rest of the surrendering marauders will be sent where you belong to stand trial." Edmund protested, "Wait! This isn't New Alliance territory! What right do you have to judge me by Alliance laws—" Fang Chang glanced at him sideways. "Because we don't like the sight of you. Is that reason enough?" "Or there's a gun over there on the floor. Go pick it up, and we can communicate another way." Edmund stared at him with a frozen face, his calves prickling with heat, and swallowed whatever he had been about to say. The reasoning was airtight. After all, this was the wasteland. A lawless no-man's-land. He could decide anyone's life or death as he pleased. Others naturally had the freedom to decide which standard to judge him by. Entirely reasonable. ... Edmund and his men would be sent to the court in Dawn City to face trial. The photographs taken by the players on site and the footage from their action cams were more than enough to ensure these beasts spent the rest of their lives in a POW camp. On the first floor of the cinema. In the open-air courtyard reinforced with garbage and concrete. The players smashed off the rusty chains on the iron cages with their rifle butts, releasing the survivors locked inside. These people, dressed in rags and emaciated to the bone, stood at a loss in the center of the open ground. Looking at the rifles in the players' hands, many had fear in their eyes, unsure of what was to come. Noticing the dread in their eyes, Lao Bai walked up to them and said in halting Human Alliance language: "You are free." "Go back. Go reunite with your families." "No matter why you were locked up here, don't do stupid things in the future." Only a short while after his words fell did the survivors seem to snap out of their daze, trading glances and whispering among themselves. Almost every eye was wide with shock. They had assumed they had merely passed from one gang of thugs' pockets into another's, never imagining these people would actually set them free. A tattered man stumbled forward a couple of steps. Cringing slightly, he lifted his head to look up at his savior. "Could you tell me... your name?" Lao Bai gave a hearty laugh. "My name's not worth mentioning. There are many of us here... We all come from the Alliance in the northern suburbs." The Alliance... The man lowered his head. He turned the word over and over in his mouth, a spark seeming to ignite in his cloudy eyes. "...Thank you." Bowing deeply, he turned toward the entrance and departed. A number of people followed after him, heading out beyond the gate into the wasteland. However, some remained behind. Lao Bai did a rough count and was surprised to find quite a few had stayed—over fifty of them. "Aren't you leaving?" Hearing this, the people exchanged looks. One stepped forward, lowering his eyes, and said: "We... have no home. Please allow us to follow you." Hearing this request, Lao Bai couldn't help but look troubled. By typical RPG logic, agreeing to this meant becoming their boss, which meant not only providing food, shelter, and basic upkeep, but unclogging their toilets too. Managing a bunch of NPCs was way more trouble than managing players. "You don't need to follow me. You should go live your own lives. But... if you truly have nowhere to go, you can come with us back to the Alliance." "There are many people like you there. They will help you start a new life." At first, blank confusion was written across everyone's faces. Upon hearing the latter half, however, a glimmer of longing for a new life rose in their eyes. A few showed no reaction whatsoever from beginning to end—likely clones lacking complete cognition. Lao Bai had seen similar beings back in the Bloodhand Clan's lair. Dealing with them was also a thorny problem. Still, he didn't intend to fret over it. He was here to play a game. Acting like a badass was plenty satisfying, but worrying about the aftermath was way too tedious. Better to leave these headaches to our esteemed Administrator! ... Although the transaction had fallen through, the players were surprised to find that their haul from this outing exceeded expectations. The chips looted from the basement formed a veritable mountain. Though the denomination of each individual chip wasn't high, together they totaled a staggering 180,000! The only operational cost had been a few dozen magazines and a single Switchblade. Pity they hadn't brought an RPG, or it would've been even cheaper. Gazing at the mountain of chips, Killing Dagger couldn't help sighing, "As expected... robbing robbers is the most damn profitable thing there is." "What do you mean 'robbing robbers'!" Fang Chang rolled his eyes, rebutting him, "This is clearly the hammer of justice!" "We confiscated their chips, used them to upgrade gear, and then used that upgraded gear to save more survivors. It's obviously an act of righteous justice! How can you call it robbing robbers? Have you no shame?" Sha Bi was taken aback. Holy shit? That actually made so much sense! Listening to Fang Chang spout his nonsense, Lao Bai chuckled and teased: "All right, cut the crap. We're playing a game to have fun; what's the point of high-minded moralizing? How do we split these chips? Give me some ideas." "Split it evenly like after a dungeon raid, how else?" Hearing Fang Chang's suggestion, Lao Bai snapped his fingers. "Works for me. Once Ye Shi and Kuang Feng get back, we'll pack it into bags and split it up." Hearing this, the players instantly cheered. "Boss is awesome!" "666!" "We're fucking rich!" Split evenly, each of them would walk away with over eight thousand chips—equivalent to more than sixteen thousand silver coins! What kind of quest paid this much? Such a colossal sum. They had struck it rich overnight!