Next Up for Auction Is a Work of Art from Tengteng Cottage—

"Holy shit?!" Power armor?! Staring at his computer screen, Battlefield Guy was utterly dumbfounded, wishing he could shove his nose straight through the monitor. Not long after submitting his intelligence, he had hopped back on to see if there were any new instructions. Yet before he could even read the quest details, his eyes caught a flashing golden badge newly appended to the quest rewards. Upon completing the entire undercover questline, he would receive a set of power armor with no level requirement! This had to be the highest-reward quest in the entire game so far, right? A blessing from Ah Guang... Excitement flared in Battlefield Guy's eyes. His fists clenched involuntarily, and he murmured beneath his breath, "I get it now!" "Digging up more intel increases the quest rewards, huh?" It sounded a bit like those obstacle course game shows on TV. The more stages you cleared, the higher the jackpot accumulated; if you failed, the accumulated prize money was forfeited. And right now, his prize pool had already grown to a set of power armor! In the Alliance's NPC shop, even the cheapest "Dragoon" power armor cost a whopping one million silver coins. And power armor with no level requirement... Just that "no requirement" tag alone was already ridiculously overpowered! Thank goodness he hadn't given up back then. If he had walked away, he would have lost out big time! Moved by his own perseverance, Battlefield Guy pulled a pen and paper from his drawer and began carefully working out how to refine his double-agent scheme based on his current intel. *** While Battlefield Guy was scribbling furiously, over in the wasteland world, Chu Guang met Prince Kaliman in the reception hall of Dawn City. "...Honorable Administrator, may I ask why you have summoned me so late at night?" Kaliman greeted him with impeccable court etiquette, speaking in a deferential tone. Looking at the foreign man with wavy hair, Chu Guang gestured toward the sofa. "We don't stand on ceremony here. Have a seat." Kaliman nodded. As he sat down, he cautiously studied the expression on the Administrator's face, trying to glean some clue from it. Yet before he could study him closely, the Administrator spoke. "I have some unfortunate news. According to reliable intelligence, a supply line is currently entering Sunset Province from the Bugra Free State, cutting through the territory of the Golden Lizard Kingdom to reach the positions of the Falcon Kingdom and Legion allied forces—" Before Chu Guang could even finish, Kaliman shot up from the sofa with wide eyes. "That's impossible!" Catching Chu Guang's gaze, Kaliman quickly realized his lapse in composure. Flushing slightly, he sat back down, smoothed over his agitation, and continued. "The Golden Lizard Dynasty is bound to us by marriage... My father's fourth wife is the elder sister of the current king of the Golden Lizard Dynasty." *Fourth wife, huh...* *Wouldn't a guy be too busy all day to get anything else done?* Chu Guang reflected that he wasn't even married yet, and he already had his hands full. "Just how many wives can a person take where you're from?" he couldn't help asking out of curiosity. Kaliman paused slightly, likely not expecting the Administrator to be curious about this, but he answered truthfully. "The Spirit of the Desert did not dictate what kind of household we ought to form. It told us only that more children bring more blessings, and those with greater ability should bear greater toil... So theoretically, whether man or woman, one may marry as many spouses as they wish, so long as all parties consent. "Of course, different nations interpret the scriptures differently. For instance, the Falcon Kingdom decrees that ordinary citizens may marry up to two wives, soldiers up to four, and those holding official rank or military merit may take even more. Honey Badger, on the other hand, which was annexed by them, practiced monogamy, believing only wholesome families receive the blessings of the Spirit of the Desert. But the other kingdoms don't really dwell on it. In my eyes at least, the duty of royalty is to ensure the people are fed, not to dictate how they live their lives... Did we wander off topic?" Chu Guang cleared his throat softly. "Not necessarily... It helps the residents of my shelter understand your people better." Looking slightly bewildered, Kaliman gave a slow nod and returned to the previous subject. "In any case, there is no need for you to worry. The Golden Lizard Kingdom and the Hump Kingdom are our staunchest pillars of support. When I set out, their reinforcements had already departed! Right now, they should be at Oasis No. 9, fighting side by side with our men and the Honey Badger Restoration Army!" Seeing Kaliman's unwavering certainty, Chu Guang found himself momentarily uncertain whether this fellow was genuinely naive or just extraordinarily composed, putting on a brave face even when the fire was singeing his eyebrows. "You departed two months ago?" "Precisely!" "Then let me tell you some very unfortunate news. Two months have passed. While I don't know the situation in the Hump Kingdom, the reinforcements from the Golden Lizard Kingdom are still sitting on their border," Chu Guang said, eyeing him with interest. "Is that what you call your staunchest pillar of support?" Shock washed over Kaliman's face, quickly shifting into fury. "How can that be?! Even disregarding blood ties, what reason do they have to support the Legion's puppet? Don't they know that once we fall, they will be the Falcon Kingdom's next target?" Chu Guang replied bluntly. "That's because your understanding of interests is far too shallow. Interests come in many forms, each made up of countless variables. The final choice is merely the outcome of a game of chess; perhaps from where they sit, they have found a better option. It's pointless to debate whether something already happening is 'possible.' I advise you to face reality as soon as you can." Kaliman fell silent. After an internal struggle flickered through his eyes, he directed a suspicious glance at Chu Guang. "...Wait. How do you know about the troop deployments inside the Golden Lizard Kingdom? Oasis No. 8 is at least five to six hundred kilometers from here, isn't it?" That suspicious gaze was like a drowning man clutching at a straw. Chu Guang could tell the prince already believed him; he simply couldn't accept the reality of being betrayed by his allies. "Naturally, I have my methods. We are accustomed to laying meticulous plans before taking action, and intelligence is a vital part of that." Pausing, Chu Guang watched the brooding Kaliman and added, "We will march the moment our supply line is complete—by mid-August at the earliest. But given your current situation, I fear you won't hold out until then. "You'd best figure out a way to do something. You can't rely entirely on us." Kaliman stayed silent for a long time. Inhaling deeply, he rose and bowed slightly. "Thank you for providing this intelligence... I will report it faithfully to my royal father and do our utmost." Chu Guang asked, "The question is, how will you send the message back? On two legs?" Kaliman replied, "Please rest assured on that front. We brought many pigeons with us; they can deliver the news back to the kingdom very quickly... Relying on a bunch of cowards to march to the front lines might be difficult, but if our royal consort writes a letter home to the Golden Lizard Kingdom, her family ought to take action." Even if they couldn't sever that supply line, causing it a bit of trouble would still greatly improve conditions on the front lines. Thinking of this, Kaliman couldn't help feeling a surge of outrage. They had remained utterly oblivious to such vital intelligence, only to hear it from foreigners outside the desert. Those shameless traitors... Seeing the fury blazing in Kaliman's eyes, Chu Guang—having successfully stoked the fire—nodded with satisfaction. "That would be best." Carrier pigeons? Those cooing little creatures were indeed dependable—far more dependable than two human legs, at any rate. Using the Lion Kingdom's influence to pressure the Golden Lizard Kingdom was merely one part of the plan. Chu Guang didn't just want to harass the supply line; he wanted to sever it at its very source—the Bugra Free State! As a vassal of the Great Rift Valley, that bastard was flirting with the Legion behind its master's back. How could the Great Rift Valley swallow being cuckolded like that? Of course, solid proof was needed to demonstrate that this was not merely a private business transaction or an individual merchant's doing, but state-level support. Watching Kaliman take his leave, Chu Guang curled his lips into a pleased smile. Whether they could get their hands on such evidence depended entirely on how well Brother Battlefield delivered... *** At the edge of Oasis No. 8, in a border town adjoining the desert, sat an unassuming inn. Awakening from sleep, Battlefield Guy yawned as he went downstairs to fetch water and wash up. Just as he was heading back up the stairs to pack his things, he heard quiet conversation coming from the other side of the corridor corner. "...Bad news. A contact at the royal palace sent word that orders went out from the palace early this morning, reportedly instructing all border outposts and patrols to strictly inspect merchant caravans entering from the east and leaving to the west." The voice belonged to that merchant, Adan. Just about to round the corner, Battlefield Guy froze instantly upon hearing those words. *Holy crap?* *The results are that immediate?!* He had only submitted the intel this morning, and the moment he logged in tonight, the story had already progressed. It caught him somewhat off guard. Normally, wouldn't it take at least ten or twelve days to hear even a whisper of news? Full of curiosity, Battlefield Guy concealed himself behind the bend in the hallway and continued listening. Standing before Adan, Korwei frowned, his expression turning solemn. "Is your information reliable?" Adan nodded and replied with certainty, "No need to doubt the source. While I cannot disclose their identity to you, I can assure you that the person cooperating with us holds no small position in the Golden Lizard Kingdom." Korwei nodded, a trace of gravity settling between his brows. Strict inspections on merchants entering from the east... That meant Adan's caravan would face far harsher scrutiny within the borders of Oasis No. 8, and his own identity as a Wilhat would become substantially more dangerous. Whether for the Legion or for himself, this was unquestionably bad news. Adan rubbed his chin, thoroughly baffled, his brow furrowed into knots. "For the palace to issue decrees at this particular moment is truly strange, especially since I heard the royal family only acted due to pressure from the Lion Kingdom... That makes it even more bizarre." Hiding around the corner, Battlefield Guy breathed a sigh of relief. Though he didn't grasp every detail, neither of them had mentioned his name, so they clearly didn't suspect him. Korwei asked with a frown, "Is the situation serious?" Adan sighed. "Not disastrously so... Once an edict leaves the palace, enforcement is up to the local authorities. As long as we don't run straight into the king's royal guards, I have ways to smooth things over even if we get stopped." Pausing, he continued with a troubled expression, "However, your identity is rather tricky. After all, this place is nominally at war with the Falcon Kingdom and the Legion. What worries me even more is that if the Lion Kingdom realizes military supplies are moving north to the Legion's positions, they will likely dispatch cavalry patrols across the desert." Korwei fell silent for a moment before saying, "I've caused you trouble... Perhaps we should split up." "Perish the thought, my lord! We cannot possibly abandon you to travel alone," Adan hastily interrupted. What he wanted was for this officer to owe him a favor; he had no intention of ditching his golden goose. Once the Legion reigned over the entirety of Sunset Province, this connection would undoubtedly prove invaluable. "...At any rate, this is no place to linger. There is more than one route to Oasis No. 9. Once we finish stocking up on supplies, we should hit the road as soon as possible." Korwei nodded prudently. "Agreed. I'll go gather my companion, and you wake the rest. We assemble in the backyard in half an hour." Seeing them part ways, Battlefield Guy slipped quietly back into his room, packed his luggage, and waited patiently for his boss to knock on the door. Sure enough, moments later, a knock came from the door, accompanied by Korwei's deep, gentle voice. "Pangolin, time to go. Are your things packed?" Battlefield Guy stepped forward to open the door, backpack already hoisted onto his shoulders, and puffed out his chest. "All packed, sir!" Giving him an approving look, Korwei patted his shoulder. "Good, full of spirit. What the Legion needs are decisive, resolute warriors like you who waste no time. I see the shadow of my superior, Rachel, in you. "Follow me. There's been a change in plans, and our departure time has been moved up by an hour. "By the way, stop calling me 'sir' from now on. Just call me Korwei." Battlefield Guy nodded stiffly. "Understood, Mr.... Korwei." Korwei chuckled, paying no mind to his tension, slapped his shoulder firmly, and headed down the stairs. At the crack of dawn, the group quietly slipped out of the small town and set off into the wasteland. Originally, they were supposed to head west along Oasis No. 8 before looping around to the northwest side of Oasis No. 9. Now, however, lingering was out of the question. They had to leave before the borders closed and before the Lion Kingdom's patrols arrived, picking an unfamiliar route toward the front lines of the Falcon Kingdom and Legion allied forces. It was plain to see that the road ahead would be far from peaceful. Truth be told, had Adan abandoned Korwei, leading the caravan on his own would have been much easier; he could have even slipped through Golden Lizard territory to Oasis No. 9 unnoticed. Yet he refused to give up the favor he had worked so hard to cultivate. Not far from him, Battlefield Guy walked alongside Korwei, his mind equally entangled in conflict. Quietly slipping into the Legion's headquarters seemed out of the question now. For a group of twenty to thirty people to conceal their tracks in the open desert, they would probably need the blessings of the Desert Spirit itself. But if things turned out as Adan said, and the Lion Kingdom dispatched cavalry patrols, and they happened to run into one... Was he really going to fire upon friendly forces? And even if they didn't run into a patrol, was he truly going to deliver these supplies into enemy hands, letting them be turned into searing metal slugs that ripped into the chests of allies or even innocent civilians...? When deeply immersed in the game, it was hard not to ponder these real-world dilemmas. Of course, he also admitted to himself that it was probably because the trek was so dull that, having nothing else to occupy his thoughts, he ended up dwelling on such pointless questions... *** The sun rose in the east and set in the west. Blood-red twilight bathed the desolate desert as the travelers, each harboring their own thoughts, marched forward in the same direction. While Battlefield Guy's mind was churning with thoughts, someone thousands of kilometers away was equally plagued by mixed emotions. Unlike the endless yellow sands of Sunset Province, night had long since descended upon Yunjian Province on the continent's eastern coast. Here, day and night were two completely different worlds. Once draped in the cloak of darkness, the entire city seemed to burst into a graceful dance. Rows upon rows of towering skyscrapers were submerged in multicolored neon, while flying craft shuttling between the steel and concrete looked like streaming rainbows. Information as vast as a galaxy filled every corner of every onlooker's vision. Even lingering for a mere moment could make one lose themselves in it. Every soul living here harbored no doubt that this was the greatest of eras, that they dwelt in that glorious, flourishing epoch where fine wine and blossoms flowed endlessly like the eastward Tianshui River, its fertile bed never running dry. However— They were not entirely blind to barbarism. They knew full well that vast swathes of this world remained wild and untamed, especially the distant western coast, the source of all chaos. The people there were like bloodthirsty jackals baring their fangs. They plundered wealth, enslaved populations, chained captured thralls like cattle to labor in the fields, and used fabricated bloodlines to divide people into castes from birth. Whether slavery or bloodline supremacy, those were historical poisons swept into the dustbin long before this planet ever entered the Flourishing Era. That capital named Triumph sounded to their ears like nothing more than a eulogy to war. By contrast, the Alliance's cities possessed far better names. Whether Dawn or Twilight, those were the names civilized people gave their cities. Residents of Ideal City might bicker over trivialities until they were cursing each other's mothers, yet regarding the Legion, there was no division whatsoever. That was the common enemy of the civilized world. Considering that two centuries ago everyone had worked together to promote that certain committee, they could turn a blind eye to the disgraceful deeds those gunpowder-brained brutes committed on the western continent. Now, however, those brutes had reached across the Great Wasteland, even attempting to take control of Vault 0... Vault 0, which Silverwing Group had discovered first. This time, they would make no compromises. Naturally, if someone else were willing to teach those beasts a lesson on their behalf, all the better. *** In a corner of the city's prime sector. Inside a sumptuous penthouse hall, figures clad in evening wear dominated by shades of silver, gray, and black stood in the center of the dance floor, champagne flutes in hand. Most were shareholders of various corporate subsidiaries, some hailing from the Five Great Groups, others from obscure smaller companies. At this moment, all eyes were focused on the platform before the dance floor, where two figures stood. One was Shuyu, the ambassador from the Alliance. Everyone had heard stories about him. It was said that this young man had come from refugee origins and lost his family in the chaos wrought by the Legion's expeditionary force. A youth like him should have been pursuing his studies within the Enterprise, yet he had shouldered the heavy burden of serving as an envoy to allied lands, traveling thousands of kilometers to an unfamiliar city. Such a heartbreaking past made it difficult for anyone not to sympathize with him... even setting aside the "political correctness" of opposing the Legion. Standing beside him was Yue Qian, Director of the Enterprise's General Management Department. Unlike Wu Changnian of Ideal Group, he belonged to the Silverwing Group faction and held a sizable share of corporate stock. The Enterprise's General Management Department was similar to the Alliance's Protocol Department: both oversaw ceremonial affairs and event planning while also handling select diplomatic duties. Actual decision-making authority rested with the Supreme Council, to which the department reported directly. He could essentially be considered the supreme foreign minister. After a day of observation, Shuyu had gradually mapped out the Enterprise's power structure. Though nominally decentralized, the Supreme Council functioned as their de facto center. Moreover, executive positions in the various departments were largely controlled by shareholders of the major conglomerates. As for the rules governing share inheritance and trading, he had yet to figure them out. However, judging by the surnames of the key figures across each group, he could discern faint patterns. For instance, influential figures in Ideal Group were predominantly surnamed Li; the surname Yun appeared frequently in Endpoint Group; and Silverwing Group was dominated by the surnames Yi and Luo. "A toast to eternal friendship!" Hearing the voice beside him, Shuyu snapped out of his reverie and raised his glass with a smile. "Cheers!" The clinking of crystal echoed across the entire venue. Standing among the crowd, Fang Chang mirrored the toast, sipping the sour sparkling wine in his glass as a faint trace of worry crept into his heart. His thoughts were not on the banquet at all, but rather on the task entrusted to him by the Administrator. Promoting the Alliance's culture and products... It sounded easy enough, but arriving in Ideal City made him realize the task was far harder than he had anticipated. The wastelanders' cultural and spiritual life was desperately impoverished. Much like tribal folk in the heart of some continent in the real world, minor industrial novelties were enough to leave them overjoyed, let alone imports from an unfamiliar culture. Here, however, was the place closest to the Flourishing Era. This city represented the opposite extreme on this wasteland. Their cultural life was excessively rich—so rich it bordered on vacuous boredom. In other words, what hadn't these people seen? The more Fang Chang thought, the deeper the frown between his brows grew. Could he truly accomplish the heavy duty the Administrator had entrusted to him? Just then, Brother Mole sidled over with a red wine glass in hand, grinning slyly. "Brother, where are your black stockings? You wearing them?" Fang Chang, drained of the will to complain, rolled his eyes at him. "Is black stockings all you ever think about?!" *Can't you have some other aspiration in life?* Ignoring the guy, Fang Chang turned his gaze back to the front of the stage. The Enterprise's "foreign minister" was concluding his speech on friendship and peace, announcing that the banquet would proceed to its second agenda item: the charity auction. The items on auction were, naturally, the gifts brought from the Alliance. As for why gifts intended for the Enterprise ended up on the auction block, that was a long story. Because the Enterprise claimed to operate under decentralized management, Shuyu couldn't find a single governing entity capable of formally accepting the gifts. Taking Wu Changnian's advice, he arranged to auction the gifts in the form of a charity gala. Each item started at a base price of 100 Cr, going to the highest bidder, with all proceeds donated to the Alliance. For the corporate shareholders, raising their paddles allowed them to express support for a righteous war, gain spiritual gratification, and acquire novel trinkets for their collections. From the perspective of Ideal City's residents, there was no fairer distribution method than letting the highest bidder take the prize. And for the Alliance, it served to raise funds outside the scope of formal aid. Those invited to the gala were all shareholders of Ideal City's major conglomerates, with countless billionaires and multimillionaires among them. Compared to their immense wealth, the three hundred million Cr in aid seemed like a drop in the ocean. Of course, paper net worth was one thing, and liquid capital was another; the two could not be equated. Even so, extracting some funds from their pockets to trade for desperately needed industrial equipment, weapons, and ammunition for the Alliance was a massive boon. War, after all, was an absolute money burner. Yielding the microphone to the auctioneer, Yue Qian bowed slightly and led Shuyu off the stage. The two headed backstage, chatting and laughing. Standing in the crowd, Fang Chang fixed his eyes tightly on the auctioneer, palms dripping with sweat. After all, he knew very well what sort of stuff was about to be auctioned... What was bound to come had arrived. Clearing his throat, the auctioneer looked at the words scrolling across the holographic teleprompter and projected his booming voice. "Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed friends... Good evening! It is my great honor to serve as the host of tonight's auction! "Our friends who have traveled from afar have brought us gifts. Within them lies not only our shared yearning for a civilized world, but also our uncompromising resolve against barbarism! We must offer our response in kind! "All proceeds generated from this auction will be donated entirely to the Alliance to fund the front lines! "Every single credit you pledge tonight will become a bullet fired at those villains! The significance of these lots surpasses all fine wine and blossoms. Regardless of the final price, every purchase is worth far more than its cost! "Show your generosity! The bills in your hands are your resolve! "History will remember this moment! "Just as it remembered the vote two centuries ago!" Truth be told, the impassioned speech even stirred a warmth in Fang Chang's chest. Pity he had no money. Otherwise, he might have raised a paddle for fun. However, the host's next words dumped a bucket of ice water straight over his heart, making his toes curl up inside his shoes in sheer mortification. "The auction of friendship officially begins! Our very first lot is a work of art from Tengteng Cottage! "As the name suggests, this piece is crafted by the Alliance's renowned fashion designer, Tengteng... That should be the correct pronunciation, strange though it sounds. "And the donor is Tail!" The host gestured with a wave. A spotlight as dense as a solid beam shone down from the ceiling. A model with a voluptuous figure stepped onto the stage, presenting the artwork she wore. It was a maid outfit tailored with an extremely short skirt, trimmed with white lace and accented by black ribbons. And a pair of white over-the-knee socks. Every gaze in the room, men and women alike, locked onto the model, their eyes filled with astonishment. It wasn't that the outfit was overwhelmingly gorgeous; rather, it was novel—something they had never seen before. Besides, the black-and-white color scheme was quite pleasing to the eye. "Black and white... Who knew the Alliance's residents shared tastes so similar to ours?" "Are those pants or socks?" "Socks, surely... Who wears pants under a skirt?" "Aren't they a bit too long, though?" "Hmm... rather intriguing." "Indeed. I've never seen anyone dress like that. The style is remarkably distinctive." Standing on the dance floor, the crowd murmured in low, intrigued whispers. Bathed in their admiring gazes, the model's lips curled into a faint smile. Yet the quiet murmurs across the hall were so discreet they sounded like buzzing mosquitoes. Fang Chang couldn't make out the words clearly, feeling only that pairs of eyes were constantly drifting in his direction, making him cringe so hard his toes could have dug out a whole villa. He desperately wanted to explain that this outfit did not represent the tastes of everyone in the Alliance—it represented only the quirks of one or two specific players. Yet at this point, explaining anything seemed utterly futile. Beside him, Brother Mole felt the same. Bathed in the glances darting their way, his stiff expression was plastered with awkward discomfort. While he didn't deny being a huge pervert, that didn't mean he wanted his fetishes dissected under public scrutiny. This was too damn embarrassing! No— This game was just way too realistic! "Uh, I suddenly need to hit the restroom," Brother Mole blurted, preparing to grease his heels and bolt. He was just an extra anyway, nothing like a certain celebrated war hero. Yet a Tier 1 Agility-type could never outpace a Tier 0. With a "radiant" smile on his face, Fang Chang triggered Bullet Time, clamping a hand onto Brother Mole's shoulder and dragging the would-be bathroom deserter right back. "Get your ass back here." What a joke. If he let him leave, wouldn't every single eye in the room land solely on him? He had to keep at least one person around to help absorb that palpable pressure. Brother Mole laughed through his tears. "Bro, there's really no need to be so tense... Maybe it's just a cultural difference, and they interpret this as... uh, formal attire?" Fang Chang hissed, "What kind of formal attire looks like that in hell?!" The bidding phase commenced shortly after. Fang Chang prayed for this segment to wrap up as swiftly as possible. Brother Edge's Gwent cards were somewhat entertaining, and Elaina's "Lao Gan Die Chili Sauce" and Mosquito's "Lao Keng Pickled Cabbage Beef Noodles" were acceptable enough—at least none of them would make him die of secondhand embarrassment on the spot. However— Events unfolded entirely outside his expectations. The moment the host finished speaking, someone raised their right hand. "One hundred Cr—" In less than half a second, a second hand went up. "Five hundred!" "Two thousand!!" "Ten thousand!!!" With that shout of ten thousand, the atmosphere in the hall peaked instantly. And that was clearly far from the highest bid. Paddles rose one after another, driving the frenzy to ever greater heights. Watching the wealthy tycoons vie for the item, Fang Chang froze completely, utterly stunned. In the end, the first artwork from Tengteng Cottage sold for fifty thousand Cr... purchased by a shareholder of Endpoint Group. Under envious gazes, the short-haired man stepped out from the crowd, glowing with pride, and followed an android toward the back of the venue. Still held firmly in Fang Chang's grip, Brother Mole swallowed hard, staring blankly at the smug man. That thing... Fifty thousand? Half a magnetic-confinement plasma machine tool?! "...Are they insane?!"