What's It Like Playing a VR Game Inside a Completely Realistic VR Game?

Without a doubt. These people had truly lost their minds. The item fetching the highest unit price wasn't the maid costume, but a Gothic-style gown adorned with copious amounts of lace trim and intricate patterns. Its pure black palette and translucent veil gave the model wearing it an aura of mystery, making her resemble a young maiden standing amid mist, while also eliciting gasps of wonder from the guests in attendance. What astonished them wasn't the technology—in fact, it really involved no extraordinary technique. Even its stylistic design and core concept bore resemblances that could be found in the history of the People's Federation. Yet just like the maid costume, while they looked similar, they were not the same. It was a genuine novelty in every sense, an original artistic school of thought. And that was what made it somewhat startling. "Unbelievable... A triple-digit inland shelter has actually pioneered over seven distinct clothing design styles!" "Minimalism in color combined with complexity in form... fascinating. Absolutely fascinating." "That piece with the high slit on the side is quite good too; it accentuates the figure nicely. The color is just a bit too bright—it'd be much better in white or silver-gray." "I hear all these clothes are handmade." "Incredible! How on earth did they come up with this?" "At this point, I'd almost believe the ancestors of Shelter 404 were a bunch of artists..." Surprised murmurs rose and fell across the hall, and bidders competed until their faces were flushed red. Before long, the prices had doubled. Standing at the edge of the venue, Brother Mole swallowed hard and couldn't resist muttering a complaint. "Does literally anything sell for sky-high prices here as long as it's black or white?" Fang Chang wore a nuanced expression. "Mmh... there's another prerequisite: you have to make them like you, or at least not hate you." The Legion's cloaks were black, and whether they were Aerospace Marines or the Youth Army, they all loved hanging a black cape behind their bulletproof armor. Not to mention their dark navy uniforms and black combat gear. Those people's attire wouldn't win any affection here. After spending a day in this place, he had distinctly sensed that supporting the Alliance had become politically correct in Ideal City. Even Endpoint Group's representatives had to beat around the bush when stating their position—saying things like, "We don't oppose supporting the Alliance, we merely oppose war itself," or, "Look, I raised a paddle too, so by what right do you call me a lackey of the Legion?" Pinpointing the other party's needs and soft underbelly, then exploiting them moderately without making them feel repulsed... Thinking up to here, Fang Chang couldn't help sighing with admiration. As expected of the Administrator. He had calculated even this step in advance! Compared to the apparel, the prices fetched by the food items were slightly less impressive. The people here didn't seem to care much about the intrinsic value of the lots themselves, caring far more about the added cultural value. And food's added cultural value was hard to perceive with the naked eye; it could only be appreciated by the taste buds after trying it. Even so, Elaina's Old Bro beef sauce still sold for a friendly price of 2,000 Cr. Meanwhile, Mosquito's Laokeng Pickled Cabbage Beef Noodles benefited from their large volume, fetching 5,000 Cr for a case... even if that case only looked substantial and didn't actually weigh much. As for the "Chuqi" cookies, they turned out to be an unexpected dark horse, fetching a staggering 10,000 Cr for just a single box! Fang Chang secretly jotted down notes on his VM, intending to share his findings on the official website once he logged off later. "...The mainstream thought within the Enterprise is elusive. They are indeed more egalitarian than most survivor settlements, yet inequalities are just as visibly present. Compared to the Legion, they can roughly be classified as xenophilic, though their xenophobia is also plain to see." "The local society has relatively high cultural tolerance, and products with high added cultural value are far more likely to fetch astronomical prices than those with high added technological value. At the same time, combat-class players can purchase gear with higher technological content here at relatively cheap prices. For instance, the Miner-series exoskeletons have no contribution point restrictions here, though figuring out how to ship them back after buying is an issue." "As an aside, bionic organs that sell for six or even seven figures in Boulder City cost only five figures here. However, across different markets, currency values cannot be converted through a stable exchange rate, so the exact difference in purchasing power is difficult to compare." "A recommendation for lifestyle-class players: if you have the resources, it's recommended to come open hotpot restaurants and ramen shops. Once the Alliance and the Enterprise reach a currency swap agreement, a Cr exchange window will open soon, which might even affect the exchange rate between silver coins and chips!" "Visas are a major headache, though. Only Enterprise employees are permitted to establish branch offices. Even if outsiders obtain work visas, they are limited to specific jobs; otherwise, they face deportation. Everyone must be careful about this!" In just one short hour, Fang Chang had already hammered out a guide of over a thousand words. Glancing at Brother Mole beside him, who was still gawking in stunned silence, Fang Chang curled the corner of his mouth. *Heh.* *I'll out-grind your ass into dust.* ... The auction concluded. By the end of the entire event, total sales had reached an astounding eighty million Cr! That was equivalent to a quarter of the Enterprise's aid package to the Alliance! And compared to the thirty million Cr designated for industrial facilities within the three-hundred-million aid package, this eighty million Cr exceeded it by more than double. Back when Shuyu had just returned from Boulder City to Dawn City, he had received an inventory list from the Administrator. It was a list of priority import items summarized by representatives of various industries based on the import catalog provided by the Enterprise. Among them was a hydrogen plasma smelting production line valued at seventeen million Cr. Unlike free electric arcs, this technological branch utilized compressed arcs, which could smelt not only metallic materials but also non-metallic materials. It was primarily applied in smelting specialty steels, superalloys, refractory metals, and so forth. Not only that, but the manufacturing process could also use water-cooled crystallizers to achieve "directional solidification" of metals or alloys, yielding high-quality crystalline structures. Although similar technology existed on Earth, due to high costs and technical immaturity, it wasn't widely used; counting all types of metals combined, the total global annual production was under thirty thousand tons. Yet that production line on the list, under conditions of sufficient raw material supply, could reach a monthly output of over fifty thousand tons on its own, and its labor requirements were far lower than the production lines the Alliance had imported from Boulder City. For the Enterprise, decommissioned obsolete production lines and produced consumer goods alike were astronomical figures. A brand-new plasma smelting production line was worth at least fifty million Cr, and if it used energy-saving, eco-friendly, and overly reactive hydrogen plasma, the price could hit one hundred million. Even as second-hand goods, seventeen million Cr counted as a friendly bargain. In addition to the hydrogen plasma smelting production line, there was also a set of chemical industrial equipment valued at thirty million Cr, capable of boosting the Alliance's mainstream chemical product capacity by 200%, reducing energy consumption by 30%, and slashing hazardous waste by over 60%. Without any exaggeration, with this eighty million Cr in donations, the Alliance's total industrial output could at least quadruple! When that time came, the core contradiction constraining the Alliance's development would no longer be production technology. It would be resources! Though in truth, there was no need to worry about that either. Through Boulder City as a trade hub, the Alliance could tap into the resources of half of Jinchuan Province. And once the war in Sunset Province drew to a close, at least half of Sunset Province would be brought under the Alliance's sphere of influence. The resources in the desert were not a shred less than those in the south. The uniquely gifted climatic conditions of each major oasis could serve as natural granaries, while the vast desert west of Sunset was an endless graveyard of civilization. Word had it that even half the sand blowing in from there consisted of brownish iron oxide. The resource density there would be even more exaggerated than junkyards like the Red River Alliance. Of course, the prerequisite for everything was winning. Only by continuing to win could this snowball roll bigger and bigger. Reining in his astonished expression, Shuyu looked across at Yue Qian with deep emotion. "I truly don't know how to thank you all... This fund is far too vital for us." Yue Qian chuckled softly and said in an amiable tone, "Compared to money, the friendship that money cannot buy is far more important to us. It is our honor to be of assistance to you. However... on behalf of Ideal City's residents, I would still like to ask: when do you plan to deploy your troops?" "The operational plan will be executed once the supply line is established. Barring any surprises, it should be in mid-August... Wait, did you not know?" Shuyu glanced at him in surprise. Regarding the timing of the offensive, the Enterprise and the Alliance should have already coordinated. Yue Qian coughed lightly. "Mid-August, is it? I had heard whispers of it, but the information wasn't certain... Information isn't fully shared across our different departments. That Yi Chuan who went to support you answers directly to the Supreme Council, and so do I." Shuyu nodded thoughtfully, inwardly pondering whether his remark just now had been appropriate. Yue Qian made no further fuss either, seamlessly dropping the topic and shifting to curious inquiries about the local customs and conditions in southern River Valley Province. At the same time, in the nearby hall, Fang Chang finally broke free from the young scions and wealthy heiresses pestering him, pulling along a green-with-envy Brother Mole toward the lounge area. The entire way, Brother Mole grumbled nonstop. "Damn it, I just don't get it. I'm a corps commander too, for crying out loud. Why aren't I anywhere near as popular as you?" Fang Chang pondered the question seriously for a moment, then replied with a straight face, "Maybe... it's a matter of face?" "*Blargh, blargh, blargh.*" Brother Mole made exaggerated retching sounds and clutched his stomach dramatically. Watching the fellow's over-the-top acting, Fang Chang chuckled. In truth, whether one was a corps commander or an ordinary soldier made no difference to people like them. He knew very well that while good looks were part of it, it was mostly due to that video that had taken Ideal City by storm, along with his near-legendary battle achievements. Crawling inside a 400 mm main cannon's barrel and fighting his way back out unscathed—it made him practically like the male lead of a popcorn action blockbuster! Of course, Fang Chang believed that if their Administrator came here for a visit, those passionate, beautiful young ladies would probably go even crazier. Even ignoring the close-ups deliberately left for him, the persona of "The Man Who Conquered the Deathclaw" was extraordinary enough. "By the way, what's this?" Sitting down on the sofa, Fang Chang's gaze landed on a pair of glasses on the adjacent table. Curiously, he picked them up and fiddled with them. Brother Mole, seated beside him, also showed interest, rubbing his chin as he mused, "They look kind of like the glasses that NPC named Yun You wears... Could it be some smart interface device or something?" "Let me try." Fang Chang set the glasses onto the bridge of his nose, running his index finger along the frame. A faint vibration met his fingertips, likely triggering a switch. Light-blue motes of light rapidly dispersed outward, engulfing his surroundings like ocean waves. Just as he assumed this was some kind of AR effect, in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing in an entirely unfamiliar world. Yes. Standing—even though a second ago, he had been sitting on a sofa. Fang Chang looked up. Gentle sunlight bathed his face, and an endless expanse of grassland filled his view. Tender grass tips swayed softly in the breeze, fluttering his bangs. Regrettably, however, with monotonous smells and distorted sensations of touch, it didn't feel the least bit real. Even if the scenery before his eyes truly reached photographic fidelity, standing on the grassland, Fang Chang could still clearly feel that he was merely a hollow model, and that this body did not belong to him. This feeling was polar opposite to *Wasteland OL*. In the world of *Wasteland OL*, although everything carried a filter, he could vividly feel that he was alive, and the NPCs were alive. Even though he knew full well it was a virtual world, he could still feel it was a living virtuality. Whereas the world here... Felt more like virtually living. Even so, it was enough to leave Fang Chang astounded. "Incredible..." He crouched down, touched the grass, then took off running forward. Roaming around like a child, his eyes were filled with shock and wonder. To think that in his lifetime, he could not only play a virtual reality game, but even play a virtual reality game inside a virtual reality game. What kind of infinite Russian nesting doll was this? Or could this actually be an undeveloped map, or perhaps a game with a completely different style? Just as Fang Chang prepared to explore further, a tugging sensation on his arm interrupted his thoughts and severed his link. The entire world dissolved into light-blue motes of light, scattering like fluttering butterflies from a shattered jigsaw puzzle. He returned to the lounge. Sitting on the sofa, Fang Chang blinked, noticing the culprit who had awakened him—the hand clutching his arm. Glaring at Brother Mole, Fang Chang said crossly, "What are you grabbing me for?" "Someone's looking for you." Brother Mole glanced toward Fang Chang's left. Fang Chang turned his head, following Brother Mole's line of sight, and saw a waiter dressed in formal attire standing there respectfully. Seeing Fang Chang look his way, the waiter said in a gentle voice, "Mr. Fang Chang, someone asked me to deliver a letter to you." Fang Chang froze. "A letter? For me, from whom?" "Miss Li Shuyue, one of the guests at the party. She said she had some matters she wished to discuss with you, and entrusted me to deliver this letter." Saying so, he produced a letter and offered it to Fang Chang. Taking the envelope, Fang Chang hadn't even had time to open it before feeling a needle-sharp gaze piercing into his back, making him shudder involuntarily. Turning around to look at the resentful Brother Mole, he said with slight embarrassment, "How about... you go in my place?" Rolling his eyes hard at him, Brother Mole snatched the virtual reality glasses from his hands and propped them onto his own nose. "Get lost. Go yourself!" ... In the distant desert, a caravan was encamped in the boundless wilderness. Although nighttime was theoretically more suitable for traveling, the desert after dark was anything but safe. The venomous insects and beasts that burrowed beneath the sand during the day were now crawling out to hunt. Word had it that certain massive, ferocious arthropods even made Deathclaws steer clear. Sitting beside the campfire, Battlefield Guy had a thick blanket draped over his shoulders as he sat facing Adan. Korwei hadn't fully trusted these merchants; he had privately instructed Battlefield Guy that one of them had to stay awake at all times to take turns keeping watch. Naturally, Battlefield Guy had raised no objections. It so happened that he also needed an opportunity for private contact with Adan, so he had proactively volunteered for the second half of the night shift. It was clear that Adan was equally interested in him, which was why he had walked over of his own accord. "What do the oases of Sunset Province actually look like?" Battlefield Guy picked a random topic to get the conversation going. Poking at the campfire with a branch, Adan pondered for a moment before speaking. "Vast and boundless, with thousands of li of fertile land. There's plentiful freshwater, a pleasant climate, and abundant sunlight. It's one of the few fertile havens on this wasteland. Even if the locals do nothing at all, they can live off the wild fruits... Compared to the Bugra Free State, it's paradise." Adan narrowed his eyes, gazing toward the quiet dunes in the distance, seemingly lost in distant memories. A moment later, he said, "...Though a war is raging there right now. I'm afraid you won't get to see it at its most beautiful." Battlefield Guy asked with keen interest, "You seem to know it well. Do you go there often?" Adan nodded, speaking in a casual tone. "I've done business with Prince Winter of the Lion Kingdom for over a decade. More than half of his elite army was armed by my caravan; I even know how many exoskeletons they have." Suddenly, perhaps realizing this Pangolin's supposed allegiance, he quickly added, "Of course, compared to those feudal lords, doing business with the Legion is far more profitable... I really hope I'll have the chance to visit Triumph City in my lifetime. I hear gold is everywhere there, and every room is filled with jewelry." Gold wasn't particularly rare on the wasteland, but a sufficient quantity of gold was another matter entirely. Battlefield Guy smiled inward, though his face remained blank. He knew the man before him held no true loyalty toward the Legion—but as it happened, neither did he. Right at that moment, a sharp gunshot suddenly cracked through the quiet night. Battlefield Guy, warming himself by the fire, tightened up. With swift reflexes, he snuffed out the campfire while seizing the rifle resting beside him. Across from him, Adan grew equally tense, though he didn't panic, murmuring under his breath, "Type 11 cavalry rifle, revolver receiver, 7 mm caliber..." His expression grew increasingly solemn. "It's a patrol from the Lion Kingdom!" Battlefield Guy frowned. "Have we been spotted?" Adan shook his head. "No... That gunshot was at least two kilometers away. They must have run into some other trouble—most likely marauders or mutants." Regardless of what it was, now was no time to hesitate. Battlefield Guy rose, chambering a round in his Falcon assault rifle. "I'll wake Korwei. You get ready to pack up—we need to move immediately." "No need. With horse hooves making that much racket, I've been awake for a while..." Shaking his groggy head, Korwei emerged from the tent. With gunfire popping incessantly in the distance, he had clearly heard it. Composing himself and looking at Pangolin and Adan awaiting orders, he thought calmly for a moment, then spoke. "Two kilometers. If those people are on warhorses or camels, catching up to us will be easy even if we dump all our supplies." Adan frowned and asked, "What do you propose, sir?" Korwei said decisively, "Lend me a few hands. We're going over to check it out!" Since it wasn't them who had been spotted, that meant those people had run into different trouble. Taking the opportunity to eliminate them was the safest choice. Adan nodded solemnly and gestured to his mercenary captain. "Take eight brothers and follow our friend up ahead to take a look." The dark-skinned, burly man nodded slightly and rumbled, "Yes, Boss!" Nine caravan guards, plus Korwei and Pangolin, formed a full eleven-man squad, quickly moving toward the distant dune. Korwei was also armed, holding an Eagle assault rifle in his hands. Judging from his seasoned movements, he had clearly seen the front lines before and was very likely an officer who had risen through the ranks. "...Unlike River Valley Province, there's very little cover in the desert. Remember to stay hidden and fire from the reverse slope." Listening to Korwei's reminder, Battlefield Guy nodded, maintaining his taciturn persona as he replied, "Understood." Korwei gave no further instructions. He believed that for a man capable of hunting a Deathclaw single-handedly, a handful of patrolmen would surely pose no problem. The group crept toward the reverse slope of the dune, crawling prone and cautiously ascending toward its crest. The distant gunfire grew increasingly frantic. Amid the flickering muzzle flashes, the men lying flat on the dune faintly made out a colossal silhouette. It was an enormous earthworm. Its trunk was as thick as a towering ancient tree, and the dozen-plus meters exposed above ground was merely a single segment; who knew how much more was buried subterranean. Perhaps its slumber had been disturbed by the cavalry, for it writhed its massive body like a flood dragon churning the sea, throwing up billowing clouds of dust and yellow dirt. Battlefield Guy's eyes widened as he saw over a dozen cavalrymen thrown into disarray by the beast, with one rider swallowed whole, camel and all, by a gaping maw. *This mob is pretty damn sick.* Even tossed into the ranks of the Tide, it would count as an elite evolved organism. Then again, Qingquan City was packed with reinforced concrete, so this fellow might not necessarily be able to bore through that... In just a few breaths, the cavalry squad had already suffered over half casualties. The squad leader shouted frantically, desperately ordering his subordinates to break out of the monster's attack radius. "Sandworm! Spirits of the Sand Sea above... it's a sandworm!" Lying beside Battlefield Guy, the dark-skinned man clawed at the sand with his right hand, terror gleaming in his eyes. Another caravan guard cursed, "...Damn it, of all things, it had to be this. Good thing we didn't take this route." One guard frowned. "Something's not right... How could a patrol not know there's a sandworm here?" The dark-skinned man mused for a moment. "Maybe they were moving in too much of a hurry, or maybe they've never patrolled this sector before." Although sandworms possessed terrifying squad-wiping capability, their territories were relatively fixed; basically, they never relocated. Furthermore... Unlike elusive man-eating ants, identifying the active radius of such a massive mutant was fairly easy. By all accounts, children of the desert shouldn't have fallen into such an ambush. Listening to the conversation, Battlefield Guy also sensed that something was amiss. However, that wasn't a problem he needed to consider right now. The patrol not far away was galloping straight toward their position. Korwei stared coldly at the cavalrymen, already flicking off his rifle's safety. "Everyone ready. The moment they cross that branching cactus a hundred meters directly ahead of us, open fire immediately!" "Yes, sir!" Battlefield Guy drew a deep breath and aimed at the group, hesitating over whether to raise his muzzle an inch. Yet even if he did, it likely wouldn't make much difference. At a distance of a hundred meters, eleven assault rifles would turn those cavalrymen into sieves even without the output of a single rifle. A few hundred meters vanished in the blink of an eye, and the riders quickly drew near. At the same time, at such close range, the group evidently spotted them too. Catching sight of the gun muzzles pointed in their direction, the patrol captain, who had barely caught his breath after escaping the jaws of death, blanched and yelled loudly, "Scatter to the flanks!" Under such circumstances, there was no need to question the other party's identity. No legitimate caravan would ever aim their guns at them. Almost simultaneously, Korwei barked, "Fire!" Eleven rifles unleashed their firepower in unison, the concentrated barrage throwing the riders and their mounts into instant chaos. In the end, Battlefield Guy couldn't bring himself to aim at the people; instead, he lowered his muzzle and targeted the camels. After a furious volley of gunfire, nine cavalrymen tumbled from their mounts, leaving a field of bodies. After waiting quietly for a moment, the dark-skinned man rumbled, "I'll go check if there are any survivors." With that, he moved to stand up, but Battlefield Guy got to his feet ahead of him, snapping out the bayonet on his rifle and walking down the dune. "I'm an Awakened. Let me do it." Korwei nodded and gestured to the caravan guards beside him. "Cover him." The dark-skinned man nodded, thinking nothing of it, and dropped back down. Cradling his rifle and aiming at the cavalry captain closest to him, Battlefield Guy approached cautiously. By the faint moonlight, he spotted the man's hand tucked near his waistband, curling his lip slightly. Lowering his voice, Battlefield Guy said softly, "Hey, I'm sorry about shooting your mount, but I've got my own difficulties." "If you don't want to die, you'd better lie there and stay still." In the dark, those eyes opened a slit. Battlefield Guy could read the shock and bewilderment concealed behind them. To keep from arousing suspicion from the man behind him, Battlefield Guy offered no explanation. He feigned stabbing several times beside the man's body, then gathered the gear from him. The man seemed to realize something; he made no sudden moves, only discreetly pointing to his waist. Battlefield Guy glanced down, saw a flare gun, immediately caught his drift, and snatched it off. Confirming nothing had been missed, he moved on to the other bodies, salvaging the equipment from each one. Only nine cavalrymen had escaped the sandworm's maw, and in the end, only the captain had survived. Battlefield Guy felt slightly conflicted, but there was no time to overthink things now. He could only haul their equipment back up the dune. Facing Korwei, he held out the flare gun and handed it over, saying calmly, "This is the cavalry captain's flare gun... I stabbed each of them twice to ensure no one was left alive. I've recovered their gear, and I suggest we leave immediately." As he said this, he was actually nervous as hell inside. Fortunately, Korwei suspected nothing and instead nodded in approval. Taking the silver flare gun, Korwei unloaded the flare inside and handed the weapon back to Pangolin. "This is your trophy. Keep it." Beside them, the dark-skinned man suggested in a low voice, "I suggest we dispose of the corpses, or they might attract a kingdom patrol." "With that much noise, any kingdom patrol will notice unless they're deaf. Nearby patrols are probably already on their way here." Rebutting calmly, Battlefield Guy glanced behind him. "Leave the lackeys' bodies for the mutants to clean up." Korwei nodded solemnly; he agreed with Pangolin's view. A single patrol was entirely inconsequential; the urgent priority was returning to the Legion immediately, and under no circumstances could the Lion Kingdom discover them. "Makes sense. We must move at once!" Watching the group disappear over the dune not far away, Andre, lying on the ground, finally breathed a sigh of relief. Though he didn't understand what had just happened... He seemed to have been saved. Waiting quietly for a while until the sound of camel hooves drifted from far away, he struggled to stand from the ground. Ignoring the gunshot wound on his leg, he limped over to his dead mount and pulled a scroll stamped with a gold seal from the saddle. Confirming the scroll was still there and completely undamaged, Andre finally breathed easy. Naturally, he was no patrol captain—he was a royal guard of His Majesty the King. The allied forces of the Falcon Kingdom and the Legion had already penetrated deep into the heart of Oasis No. 9. If reinforcements could not arrive, their fate would likely mirror that of the Honeybadger Kingdom, vanishing into these churning yellow sands... Sustained by faith and loyalty, he gritted his teeth, roughly bandaged the gunshot wound on his leg, slung his pack over his shoulder, and limped onward toward the north. Time flowed quietly by. The morning sun rose once more over this land. At the junction where the southern plains of River Valley Province met Sunset Province, a party of roughly thirty people was slowly advancing toward Qingquan City. Twenty camel-mounted cavalrymen guarded five camel-drawn wagons. Inside were their ammunition, supplies, and a personage of special status. Riding a camel alongside the middle carriage, a turbaned middle-aged man raised a pair of binoculars and peered toward the east. Seeing the lush trees and boundless rolling hills in the distance, a flicker of pleasant surprise surfaced in his eyes. Slowing his pace to draw near the carriage, he leaned close to the window and said softly, "Your Highness, just ahead is Alliance territory." The person inside the carriage seemed lost in thought, and after a moment, a very soft reply drifted out: "Mmh. Tell everyone to pick up the pace." "Yes." The guard answered respectfully, kicked his camel, and accelerated toward the front of the column. "River Valley Province is just ahead! We're only a final hundred-odd kilometers from Qingquan City. Everyone, pick up the pace!" The party quickened their speed, heading toward the plains on the southern side of the mountains. Before long, a settlement under construction came into view. Shipping containers stood arranged across the open ground. Bare-chested men bustled about, unloading supplies from the containers and hauling them to a nearby construction site. The man atop the camel frowned, accelerated away from the column, and ambled over toward the workers. Seeing the man on the camel, quite a few people stopped their work and eyed him with curious glances. Directing the reconstruction work on the site was Ma Ban, overseer of the refugee camp. Noticing the situation to the west, he immediately furrowed his brow, summoned a construction worker, and asked, "What's the situation over there?" "A caravan came out of the desert... looks like a caravan, anyway. They stopped to our west, not sure what they want. Maybe they're planning to trade with us?" Intuition told Ma Ban that things were likely not so simple. Pondering for a moment, he remembered the woman the Lord Administrator had assigned to him, and instructed, "Go call Teresa over." "Yes!" The construction worker nodded and immediately jogged toward the camp behind them. Before long, having set aside her work, Teresa walked over following the construction worker. At the moment, Teresa was dressed in dirt-resistant jeans and a beige T-shirt, wearing a modest straw sunhat on her head. One had to admit that one's living and working environment truly exerted a profound influence on a person. In just two short weeks, not a trace of royal nobility remained on her. Aside from her extraordinary looks and figure, she was hardly distinguishable from the other workers in the refugee camp. Ma Ban didn't know her specific identity, nor had he questioned the Administrator in detail. He simply spoke in a businesslike tone: "A group of people has arrived from the west. We aren't certain of their identity; perhaps you can offer us some insight." Teresa nodded earnestly. "No problem. Leave it to me." Without wasting words, Ma Ban made a gesture and led her toward the western edge of the camp. Looking at the man atop the camel, Ma Ban then glanced at the party not far away, calling out to him, "Who are you? What brings you here?" The man on the camel was just about to answer. Yet at that exact moment, his gaze abruptly fell upon the face of the woman beside Ma Ban, and his contracting pupils instantly flared with murderous intent. He recognized that face! Even if she were burned to ashes, he would recognize her! "Teresa..." Hatred toward the Falcon Kingdom turned his eyes bloodshot; he had no time to consider why he was seeing this face in such a place. Squeezing the name through gritted teeth, the man raised his gun without hesitation and roared at the top of his lungs: "The royal consort of the Falcon Kingdom! Falcon Kingdom people are here!" It happened far too suddenly. Though they didn't understand what he was trying to do, seeing him draw a gun, the surrounding Alliance soldiers raised their weapons one after another. In an instant, tensions flared to the brink of war!