The Reckoning Will Inevitably Come

"Oho... looks like chips really are about to become completely worthless." Inside a small detached cottage by the shore of Ling Lake. Sitting at the dining table, Fang Chang was reading the newspaper when his peripheral vision caught the line on the trading terminal screen rocketing straight up. Surprised, he couldn't help a playful smirk from curling onto his lips. Just when virtually every industry across Boulder City was desperately starved of cash, the price of S-coins had, ironically, surged to a record high, reaching 9,881 chips per S-coin. Given the current trading volume, breaching the ten-thousand milestone was an absolute foregone conclusion. People were buying nonstop—and repeatedly buying back in. Sitting across the dining table, Dolly stared blankly at the screen propped up on the table, her mouth agape wide enough to shove a duck egg inside. Fang Chang had explained to her what that fluctuating line signified, as well as what the numbers beside it meant. Even so, she still couldn't wrap her head around how these intangible, invisible figures could be traded for solid, real chips! By the Great Horned Deer God! When she worked at the newspaper, her monthly pay including bonuses had only amounted to a little over a thousand chips! If a resident of Boulder City had bought a hundred S-coins at the very beginning, wouldn't they be set for life without ever having to work again? Her duck-egg-shaped gape soon widened into a goose egg. "Breaking ten thousand is pretty much set in stone." Not noticing Dolly's shifting expression, Fang Chang tapped the screen twice to pull up transaction logs and individual account holdings from the back end. He quickly discovered that several massive transactions originated from the very same whale. Though he didn't know who was behind the account, looking at the cumulative trading volume running into the hundreds of millions of chips... all he could say was that this fellow was partying way too hard. Of course, it hadn't been without reward. The S-coins in this gentleman's account were already worth close to two hundred million chips! *Winning so hard you're numb, huh, buddy!* *No rush, though.* With a chuckle, Fang Chang tapped the sell button, recovering some liquidity on the back of the delightful rally while nudging the momentum downward to cool off the guys who were dying to break ten thousand right this second. At a moment like this, he had to carve out a V-shaped dip—stalling for a bit to establish support before charging up again. It would reassure those still holding positions and give hesitant spectators itching on the sidelines a chance to climb aboard. Naturally, he wasn't just shearing a single fat sheep until it bled dry; he had a methodical, comprehensive shearing strategy. When selling pressure was light, he would use the funds in his account to steadily pump the price. When selling pressure mounted, he would ride the downward momentum to dump, waiting for the panic sellers to ditch their S-coins before pumping it back up. As long as their eyes were glued to the charts, buying back in was only a matter of time. A few clever folks might try analyzing the patterns in the line, correlating trading volumes with prices, and using mathematics to divine market sentiment. But knowing the intellectual caliber of the Inner City nobles, Fang Chang doubted they could engineer something like a Moving Average Convergence Divergence indicator in such a short window. At best, they might string together a couple of catchy rhymes to entertain themselves. At that thought, the corners of Fang Chang's mouth curled higher and higher. "Too weak." These people had probably never even seen what a scythe looked like, entirely oblivious to the fact that they were being harvested like chives. Noticing the scheming look on Fang Chang's face, Dolly finally caught on. Furrowing her delicate brows, she said, "...You're tricking people, aren't you?" Fang Chang grinned, teasing, "My lovely reporter lady has finally figured it out?" "But..." "You want to ask why they haven't caught on, right?" Reading the confusion in Dolly's eyes at a glance, Fang Chang smiled faintly as she nodded and continued in a relaxed tone. "Spotting the problem isn't actually difficult. All it takes is a simple math problem: use multiplication to calculate what all the S-coins combined are worth, and you'll realize something is off." With the price of an S-coin approaching ten thousand, one might as well round it up to ten thousand. After all, as the market maker, its value was whatever he said it was. Leaving aside the "auto-breeding" S-coins, the initial issuance of one million S-coins alone was already valued at ten billion chips! Fang Chang didn't know whether the Bank of Boulder City held that many chips, but that figure was nearly three times the size of the Alliance's entire debt. He admitted he was being rather wicked—after all, taking advantage of fools was hardly virtuous. Yet the dupes were truly that brainless. Before making their purchases, they hadn't even bothered to look into what on earth they were buying. "...But why didn't they see it? Why? I don't understand," Dolly muttered, thoroughly bewildered. "Analyzing why a specific individual fell into a pit is far harder than shoving a crowd of people into one. After all, people only end up in the pit in the same posture; their motives and reasons are wildly varied. I'm just the pit digger—I can't give you a clear answer," Fang Chang chuckled. A thought struck him, and he added, "Write a column later and publish the story of the S-coin in the newspaper. That way, fewer people will fall into the trap." Eliminating it entirely was impossible. That was when laws were needed to enforce fairness. The draft of the Financial Law was nearly finished. More than half was copied directly from reality, while the rest was adapted to wasteland conditions. The forums had been buzzing about it over the past few days, with Professor Yang even cursing him for being inhuman—filling in the pit the second he finished raking in his own fortune. Fang Chang felt quite blameless. Why was a guy without a gaming helmet getting so worked up? Besides, this set of laws would only protect businesses and residents within the Alliance's borders; it wouldn't stop those rascals from going out and wreaking havoc on others. Of course... When causing trouble elsewhere, it was best to study the local rules first. For example, if he tried pulling this scheme in Ideal City, he would undoubtedly get booted out. The Bugra Free State to the north was a quintessential capitalist-dominated power, and an extremely bizarre case of borrowing nests to lay eggs. Trying to swindle them was quite difficult; trading with them without being scammed was cause to burn incense in gratitude. Half the fraudsters infiltrating the Alliance currently hailed from up there. Tackling these deep-seated societal issues via sky-patrolling drones was nearly impossible. Expecting an AI to solve everything was profoundly irresponsible; it required players embedded in the lives of the NPCs to root them out. He had to give credit to Ah Guang—the Beta 0.5 version had launched at just the right time! "Oh?" Dolly's long eyelashes narrowed into crescent moons. Resting her cheeks in her hands, she flashed a lazy, mischievous smile. Beneath the table, her dangling bare feet stepped onto his knees and gave him a playful nudge. "Is Mr. Big Swindler planning to expose his own tricks?" She had the day off today and was exceptionally playful. Not wanting to let her get smug, Fang Chang decided to be mischievous in turn. Laying down his newspaper, he cleared his throat with theatrical solemnity. "Well, that depends on how hard Madam Investigator works." "You wouldn't want folks to keep getting tricked by a villain like me, would you?" Seeing his wicked grin, Dolly's cheeks flushed warm, and she let out a soft huff. "I should just turn you straight over to the guards... you can confess to them." With that, she pushed against the table, hopped down from her chair, and padded over to the fireplace in her slippers with a soft *patter-patter* to toss in a few more logs. It was growing colder outside. The blizzard howled past the windows, rattling against the glass panes. Having weathered heavy snow before, the Alliance was well prepared, having readied contingency plans long in advance. These included giving workers with outdoor duties time off, handing out severe-cold allowances to on-duty personnel, and more. Medical posts could not stop, education could be relocated underground out of the wind and snow, and steel mills and certain foundries generated immense heat on their own, so they didn't need to halt operations either. Factories lacking heating appliances or failing to meet thermal standards, however, were ordered to suspend work. The newspaper office was equipped with heaters, but having staff come in required paying hazard stipends, and they didn't have much work on hand anyway, so the editor-in-chief granted them paid leave. Word was that the Alliance had stockpiled vast amounts of winter supplies, capable of keeping current prices stable even under the direst conditions. Earlier, the Administrator had personally visited their radio studio to deliver an address, reassuring everyone over the airwaves not to worry. The people believed him without a shadow of doubt and were filled with confidence. That lord had always kept his word. If there were difficulties, he stated them plainly; if there were solutions, he laid them out clearly, never spouting rhetoric beyond their comprehension. If they didn't believe him, were they supposed to believe that clown named House next door? The Alliance and Boulder City weren't far apart, making it easy to tune in to his broadcasts. Dolly naturally had absolute confidence in him as well. After all, even the "villain" in her home acknowledged that the Administrator was a rare, truly good man, not to mention how open-minded he was toward progressive voices. She harbored no doubt that the Alliance had a brighter future ahead, and that once the boundless snow cleared, a vibrant, flourishing world would emerge. A mere snowstorm... Not a single resident of the Alliance took it to heart! *** With logs added to the fireplace and the curtains drawn shut, the small cottage by Ling Lake grew warmer and warmer, hot enough to make one sweat. Outside, however, was an entirely different world. The biting wind and snow sliced like knives, descending from an endless ceiling of overcast clouds, hacking and tearing the silver-clad land to shreds piece by piece. On the wasteland—especially in River Valley Province—even a rare warm winter could hardly be described as warm; the snowfall was merely delayed by a month or two. Yet what was destined to come... Would arrive eventually. Twenty to thirty kilometers from Ling Lake, the Great Wall stood amidst the blizzard like a cold iron curtain, ruthlessly cleaving apart prosperity and desolation on the wasteland. On one side of the Great Wall lay tiers of tall and short buildings; on the other lay shacks crushed beneath heavy snow. Just as most survivors of Boulder City proudly proclaimed, even the meager scraps spilling from this wall could nourish countless miserable souls begging at their feet. Workers at the cannery mostly still had drafty rooms, but the truly penniless dwelling in the slums at the foot of the wall had to scrape by in shanties. Human vitality was remarkably stubborn. Where weeds could not grow, humans survived; even where slime mold dared not tread, human footprints lingered. The impregnable city wall towered proudly, shielding those within from the wind, snow, and slime mold, as well as the wasteland's chaos, death, and poverty. Yet its builders likely never foresaw that the wave about to sweep everything away would come not from beyond the wall, but from its very center. Enraged survivors gathered along the main thoroughfare. Most were laborers from the industrial zone, though citizens and mercenaries sympathetic to Sberg were mixed into the crowd. This demonstration seemed fiercer than any before. The militia knew these paupers were targeting neither City Hall nor the bank; their burning rage was aimed straight at the Boulder Building in the city center. Consequently, the militia mobilized with unprecedented speed, deploying equipment they hadn't even brought out during the Tide, forming a rigid line in front of the survivors. "Hand over Sberg!" "We will never abandon our fellow workers!" White vapor wafted from the snowdrifts on the eaves, dislodging powdery snow in bursts. The roaring chants were overwhelming, driving even the sweeping blizzard into retreat. Donning his heavy power armor, Centurion Weilun of the First Millennium watched the surging sea of people before him, breaking out in cold sweat. These people were acting like they'd swallowed gunpowder! He had never seen so many furious people gathered together. There were likely opportunistic mercenaries mixed among them, ready to light the powder keg at any moment. If he had a choice, he truly didn't want to fight these people. Compared to them, he would rather face the Tide! "Residents of the Outer City, calm down!" Switching on his armor's loudspeakers, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "I've inquired with the Inner City! Your friend... Sberg is still alive!" Before his voice even died down, a furious roar cut him off. "Bullshit!" "This morning you said he was alive, at noon you claimed he was dead, and now he's alive again! Will he be dead again by tonight?!" "We don't want to hear your farting! We don't want to calm down! We want to see him in person! Dead or alive, we want him to tell us with his own mouth!" "Drop dead, you armored pigs! *Ptoo!*" Other shouts mingled among the clamor. Some hollered that bread was too expensive; some shouted to rob the nobles; others merely intended to fish in troubled waters as order collapsed across the city. It was hard to tell who was who. Indeed. Anyone with eyes could see that even in corrupt Boulder City, order was a precious treasure that existed. That had nothing to do with good, evil, or fairness. It was just that now, it had been quietly undermined by the people's questioning roar of condemnation... It was not just the chips that were losing their power, but also the black cards in the hands of the noble lords. Just as Fang Ming had said, it was fundamentally nothing more than a room card... Marauders who had kept their heads down were growing restless; mercenaries seeking plunder were fanning the flames. Most people knew there was filth in their ranks, but most people no longer cared. No matter where this momentum originated, they only wanted to turn this settlement upside down and tear their friend back from the clutches of thieves! Sweating profusely with anxiety, Weilun found his line steadily forced back, all while having to watch for individuals slipping away from the main crowd to infiltrate behind them. Word had it that his direct superior—Militia Commander Zhao Yongxu—was already berating his peers in the council chamber, castigating them for failing to handle the matter cleanly. The settlement had plunged headlong into a vortex of conflict. Alarms on the Great Wall—normally sounded only during the Tide—began wailing, yet the shrill sirens could no longer shake the unified sea of people. If there was any difference from the "Ending A" simulated by the computer, it was likely the hesitation in people's hearts. Most people in the workers' union didn't want things to get completely out of hand; after all, they still didn't know whether their captured fellow worker was dead or alive. Citizens joined the ranks, perhaps some out of a sense of justice, but far more due to the simple grievance that bread was too expensive. The soldiers were wavering, because their own wallets shrank with every passing day, and before them stood not just paupers, but potentially their own family members—those seemingly respectable citizens. Weilun, who truly possessed a black card, was hesitating as well. Nobody knew the soldiers behind him better than he did. Bullying paupers was within their repertoire, and fighting the Tide was fine, but the people they had to confront now were simply too numerous... He could feel their hesitation and unease. Those not drawn into the vortex tried fleeing beyond the walls, while wastelander opportunists seeking a piece of the action cursed that the gates remained shut—to prevent public security from deteriorating further, the Boulder City militia had locked down every exit and entrance to the Outer City. Originally, prospective entrants were merely dissuaded, though forcing one's way in was still permitted. Now, however, getting in or out was completely impossible. A large crowd gathered outside the gates of Boulder City. Among them were those who had escaped before the lockdown, standing shivering in the freezing wind with arms wrapped around themselves, gazing around in bewilderment, unsure of where to go next. Most carried little luggage, their pockets stuffed only with chips that outsiders refused to accept, with no word on when the gates behind them would reopen. Stretched before them was the wasteland! That man-eating wasteland! They didn't even know which side of the gate was hell... Beside those regretting their escape were those lamenting that they hadn't pushed harder to slip inside. Most wastelanders could guess to varying degrees that this bustling grand casino seemed poised for another reshuffle. And with every reshuffle, those with the biggest fists could always grab a share of the spoils. "Dammit!" Staring at the fully barred gates, Killing Dagger and Kidney Fighter wore expressions of bitter regret. According to the NPCs, this sort of "limited-time event" only happened once every twenty or thirty years! They had been just a hair away from getting in! Compared to a life reset that took three days, a once-in-thirty-years event was clearly far rarer! *A total loss!* Just as the two were wallowing in regret, a man in a padded cotton coat approached them, lowering his voice. "Hey? You from the Alliance?" Killing Dagger glanced up at the man and nodded. "Yeah, what's up?" Seeing he had found the right people, the man's eyes lit up with delight. Looking around to make sure nobody was nearby, he lowered his voice. "I'm from the militia." Kidney Fighter beside him chuckled and reached out to shake his hand. "What a coincidence, I'm from the Burning Corps." "Burning Corps?" The man paused, not understanding, but brushed it aside and continued, "Doesn't matter what you are... I've got a batch of good merchandise here. Interested?" Killing Dagger leaned in curiously. "What merchandise?" "A person. Or to be more precise... a beautiful noble lady," the man said, raising his eyebrows with a suggestive gleam. "Interested?" "Holy crap! Human trafficking?" Killing Dagger immediately recoiled, eyeing him warily. "We don't take slaves! Don't you dare try to set me up!" Kidney Fighter chimed in, loudly proclaiming his stance to the developers in the sky, "Exactly! We're not that kind of people!" The NPCs in this game were getting trickier by the day. Always coming up with new ways to dig pits for them. Earlier, some poor bastard had nearly gotten scammed, saved only because everyone talked him out of it in time. As Fang Chang's good buddies, the two of them had diligently read the *Player Handbook*. The shelter placed no restrictions on players' interactions with NPCs and stayed out of romantic entanglements, but strictly forbade players from keeping slaves; anyone purchased or obtained by chance had to be released. The rules in the *Player Handbook* served as shelter regulations, relatively concise, mainly governing residents of Shelter 404. Unlike the Alliance's legal code, the rules in the *Player Handbook* applied not only within Alliance territory—as long as one remained a shelter resident, one had to obey them even outside the Alliance. If one found the shelter resident status too burdensome, they could simply return their helmet. "Dammit, keep your voices down... What human trafficking? That's not what I meant," the man said, startled by their sudden shouting, and hastened to explain. "I only meant letting you meet her, not selling her to you... She's a noble! You want to buy her? Are you crazy, or am I?!" Of course, if these two bosses from the Alliance could truly pay a massive sum, it wasn't entirely out of the question... He could ask around with his superiors, and maybe strings could be pulled. With chaos of this scale, one or two people vanishing was fairly normal. Whenever the gates closed, it wasn't just the lives of paupers that got discounted—the lives of noble lords took a hit too. The man couldn't help marveling inwardly. As expected of rich tycoons from the Alliance—their tastes were certainly perverted. Actually wanting to take her back... Still wary, Killing Dagger eyed the man up and down. "What do you mean, 'meet her'?" "For instance, letting you see her while she's asleep," the man winked. "We know an aesthetician at a beauty salon. Some deep maintenance procedures require the client to be asleep, and she has ways to keep her clients under a little longer... You'll have plenty of time to do whatever you want, guaranteed that nobody will ever find out afterward." Upon hearing this, the faces of both players changed instantly. "What the fuck?" "Is she out of her mind?" The man shrugged nonchalantly. "Out of her mind? Maybe. Chips from those noblewomen are worth less and less anyway. As long as you're willing to pay real money, why wouldn't she?" Kidney Fighter swallowed hard. Naturally, he would never do such an evil thing, but to unleash a scathing critique on the official website later, he still wanted to ask about the price. "How much?" Seeing him take the bait, the man grinned and held up a single finger. "One million silver coins." The two players' expressions soured instantly. "Holy shit!" "A million?! Are you insane?!" A million silver coins on the official website could easily fetch ten million RMB. This NPC was clearly sleepwalking! Killing Dagger quietly snapped a photo of the guy, intending to head to the forums later and vehemently tear into these soulless sellouts. Seeing them turn to leave, the man panicked and rushed after them, calling out, "Don't go! Eight hundred thousand! No, five hundred thousand works too!" Not far from the trio, a brother and sister were stealthily eavesdropping. Lao Bai and Kuang Feng had booked a room at the nearby Distant Wind Grand Hotel and logged off to gather intelligence on the official website. The two of them had been tasked with gathering intel along the street outside the gates, and they just happened to overhear the preceding conversation. Seeing the broad grin plastered across her brother's face, Jiu Jiu rolled her eyes and kicked him in the shin. "Brother, you're not actually tempted, are you? I'll tell Sister Tengteng." Ye Shi's face fell instantly, and he blurted out in a panic, "Damn it, why would you tell her? Wait, tempted my ass... couldn't you see I was just getting ready to tear into him!" Watching her brother scramble to defend himself, Jiu Jiu's eyes darted around before she gave a sly giggle. "Speaking of which, Sister Tengteng's character in-game is a total shrimp, but in real life, she's actually a mature beauty." Ye Shi froze. "How do you know that?" Jiu Jiu raised an eyebrow at him. "Brother, you didn't think you were the only one with private chat groups, did you?" "Holy crap!" Ye Shi looked at the little girl in pleasant surprise, giving her a massive thumbs-up, before flashing a shy, ingratiating smile. "Uh... sis, please help your dear brother out with her penguin handle, will you?" Jiu Jiu waved him off lazily. "Go ask her yourself." Ye Shi grimaced. "Damn, you're heartless!" "It's not impossible for me to help you, unless..." Watching her impatient brother, Jiu Jiu's eyes twinkled with a mischievous grin. "Let me into your Beast of Burden chat group!" At this demand, Ye Shi deflated like a punctured balloon, offering a sheepish grin. "Uh, never mind then... I'll just ask her myself another day." "Huh? Giving up just like that?" Jiu Jiu clicked her tongue and cast him a sidelong glance. "Your feelings for Miss Tengteng don't amount to much after all." "You don't understand," Ye Shi shook his head. "That's a group for grown-ups. A kid like you shouldn't poke your nose in... it's not good for you." Not to mention his and Kuang Feng's full gamer tags—if an insider suddenly infiltrated the group, nobody would feel comfortable making dirty jokes anymore. "Tch!" Jiu Jiu rolled her eyes, paying no heed to his petty concerns. Turning his attention back to the game, Ye Shi stroked his chin as he watched the hurried man. "Still, that guy... seems to have a way inside the city." With the gates completely barred, even paying the entry tax wouldn't get anyone in, and people inside couldn't get out. Some of their "clients" and purchased equipment were still trapped inside. If they were smashed or burned in the chaos, that would be a terrible waste; they had to find a way to extract the people and the gear! After all, Fang Chang had worked hard to fleece those using S-coins. He had zero interest in noble ladies, but the genuinely valuable treasures inside definitely appealed to him. Jiu Jiu shot her brother a suspicious glance. "You really *are* tempted. Brother, I misjudged you." Ye Shi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "What on earth are you talking about?! Were you even listening to me?" *Damn it!* Just as Jiu Jiu was about to speak, an unfamiliar voice chimed in from behind them. "What are you discussing? Mind if I join?" Alarm bells ringing in his mind, Ye Shi spun around to see a sharply dressed man in a suit standing behind him, smiling at him and Jiu Jiu. The man exuded not a shred of surplus aura, yet his presence was too commanding to ignore. Half a step behind him stood a woman whose entire face was masked by a pitch-black visor, the polished breastplate bearing the insignia of Boulder Military Equipment and the designation "X-16." "Who are you?" Shielding his sister behind him, Ye Shi eyed the man warily, his hand already gripping the pistol in his pocket. Paying no mind to the gesture, Ibers spoke with impeccable manners. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ibers, President of Boulder Military Equipment... Though this may be your first time meeting me, I have actually been observing you for quite a while." *Boulder Military Equipment!* Hearing that name, Ye Shi felt a pang of guilt, but braced himself nonetheless. "Why... why have you been watching us?" "Nothing in particular. It's simply rare to find someone who appreciates our work so much, so I took a personal interest," Ibers said, a pleasant smile gracing his face. "However, moving things bit by bit like ants is horribly inefficient, and it messes up the jigsaw puzzle I worked so hard to assemble." "Why don't you just buy me out as well?" Jiu Jiu: "...?" Ye Shi: "???" *What?!* *** While Ye Shi and Jiu Jiu were left utterly dumbfounded, Jixiu, strolling along the street outside the city gate surrounded by bodyguards, was painting a grand vision of the future for his cronies. "Look at that! That is what you call a true gathering of all nations!" "Every survivor settlement across central Mid-Continent, north, south, east, or west, has to trade with us! Their stalls stretch out like an endless river, looking up at us in longing! They know that without us, they simply can't survive!" Growing thrilled, he spread his arms wide, embracing the wind and snow rushing at his face, a radiant smile gleaming on his features. "Alliance? Far too weak!" He had come here every day over the past few days, accompanied by his close circle of friends. After all, before long, he would become the master of this place. One of the young dandies asked curiously, "What do you think they're selling? Why have they been selling for so long without running out?" "I see a few familiar faces. Aren't they from the militia?" "I don't know, nor does it matter," Jixiu waved a hand, directing their attention back to himself. "Whatever those servants are selling, as long as they're doing business, it's tied to us. Where there are transactions, there is profit, and our settlement benefits from it. That's the most elementary economics." *Economics!* The group's eyes lit up, a few boys secretly giving him a thumbs-up. Jixiu truly was a man of the world; those five years studying abroad hadn't gone to waste—he had genuinely learned something in Ideal City! Gazing at the bustling yet slightly chaotic market, a faint melancholy tinged Jixiu's eyes, mingled with an invisible sense of superiority. These undignified merchants were too crude. Left unsupervised, they would run wild like weeds. He would employ the most advanced methods to make them fall in line with his vision! "Unfortunately, while this place is close to us, it isn't part of our settlement after all, and these short-sighted fools have no long-term vision... When the time comes, I plan to spend a sum of chips to buy out the Distant Wind Grand Hotel!" Kumite asked eagerly, "And then?" Meeting everyone's expectant gazes, Jixiu clenched his fist triumphantly. "Then we tax those stalls, tear down the slums, and move all those people into our hotel! People will thank us for putting them into a grander hotel instead of those rundown shacks in the Alliance! And we'll have more money to accomplish bigger things—like expanding the outer wall all the way to the viaduct! When that happens, people can descend from the bridge straight into our settlement—our most prosperous center!" "I hear it's not technically difficult. If we could build a Great Wall this massive in the past, we can build an even bigger one in the future!" Jixiu narrowed his eyes, gazing out at his future kingdom. The winding line of stalls and crowds seemed endless, stretching from Boulder City's gates all the way toward the viaduct behind the Distant Wind Grand Hotel! Though the bustle here paled in comparison to the inner city, it was winter right now! If he remembered correctly, past winters never saw this many people coming out to trade. Clearly, during his five years away, Boulder City had developed significantly. It seemed his plans had been too conservative. Originally, he had intended to realize them step by step over three to five years, but now it looked like he could advance the schedule. Of course, much of the credit went to that good man named Fang Chang. If not for that brother, he wouldn't have possessed so much capital at his disposal. Whenever he recalled that meeting on the aircraft, Jixiu couldn't help feeling smug. It had been the most brilliant negotiation of his life, bound to become a popular legend recounted over tea in the future. "Brother! You're damn well incredible!" Beside him, Kumite enthusiastically took the lead in applauding, beaming with joy. He had noticed that ever since his good buddy Jixiu returned from Ideal City, not only had he grown sharper, but his words had also become far more pleasing to the ear. He absolutely loved hearing it! Without exaggeration, this was far more entertaining than women! Besides, Jixiu hadn't lied. The S-coins in his account were already worth tens of millions of chips—his old man had never handed him that much allowance! Those fantastical experiences might contain an element of bragging, but money never lied! Just then, a gust of freezing wind blew past. Kumite sneezed suddenly, rubbing his nose as he muttered, "Why is it so weirdly cold..." Noticing this, a chubby little lackey beside him hurriedly took off his coat and offered it over. "Please wear mine, Young Master." "Thanks, Pilu, you're a good guy." Though not terribly cold, Kumite took the coat, draped it over his shoulders, and patted the chubby kid's thick shoulder with a chuckle. The chubby kid gave a genial grin. "Of course, we're brothers." He was Weijia's son. Though his father was a prominent boss, compared to the fathers of these young masters, he was merely a minor figure. His father always told him that in Boulder City, connections were the rarest resource. Thus, he was never stingy about investing in these buddies. He had volunteered the very first million-level capital for S-coins, later adding more chips until it reached around ten million. Looking back, that investment had yielded a massive fortune. However, being timid by nature, he had gradually liquidated portions of his holdings on his father's advice. Deducting the initial capital, he had still netted a tidy profit. At that moment, a shrill bell echoed from within the city. The group fell silent, turning their heads toward the Great Wall. "The alarm is ringing in the city..." Stepping up beside Kumite, an Awakened bodyguard said respectfully, "We must head back immediately." Kumite scratched the back of his head in bewilderment. "But it's winter." Worry washed over the faces of the young masters. After exchanging glances, they began murmuring among themselves. "Either way, let's head back first..." "I have a bad feeling about this." "Safety first!" Watching his friends huddle in discussion, the chubby Pilu hesitated. Finally summoning his courage, he looked at his elder brother Kumite. "You guys head back quickly. I won't be joining you." Kumite looked at him in shock. "Are you crazy? Staying outside when the alarm is ringing? This is the wasteland!" Pilu gave a simple, sheepish smile. "My father told me to wait for him at the Distant Wind Grand Hotel. He said he has something to discuss with me. I need to get over there right away, or he'll tan my hide." Kumite paused, then nodded. "All right then... take care of yourself." *Running outside when the siren sounds?* *What a weird fellow!* Still, Mr. Weijia was a capable man; getting back inside took merely a word from him, so Kumite couldn't be bothered to worry on his pal's behalf. "You too! You must take care!" Seeing Kumite about to take off the coat and return it, Pilu waved his hands vigorously. "Keep it—consider it a keepsake." Kumite blinked, about to ask what he meant, when the bodyguard cleared his throat softly, interrupting his train of thought. "Young Master, we should go... This is serious. If your father doesn't see you, he'll be frantic." "All right." Kumite nodded. Watching Pilu's departing figure, he said nothing more, waving a hand to lead the group toward the Great Wall gate. Though the gates were locked down, for those holding black cards, rules were merely rules on paper. Initially, Kumite hadn't been overly concerned. Yet the moment he stepped inside Boulder City, he immediately realized something was wrong. There were too many people! And they were all crammed onto the street by the gate! He had never seen so many people clamoring to get out! The bodyguard gently tugged at his sleeve. "The main road is impassable. We'll take the side alleys." The paupers had completely clogged the street. "Right!" Kumite nodded firmly, his expression turning tense. Sensing the urgency of the situation, the group stopped dallying. No one cracked jokes anymore as they jogged toward the Inner City. The streets were in utter disarray. The guards who usually patrolled seemed to have vanished, and the militia was nowhere to be seen. From the adjacent avenue came occasional clattering sounds of destruction, accompanied by the furious curses of men and women. Even more terrifyingly, the noises from streets further away were even louder. People seemed to be chanting something in unison... The roar sounded like an all-out war! A sudden wave of panic seized Jixiu. Parting ways with his companions, he hurried back to the grand mansion on the edge of the Inner City. Darting through the courtyard gate, he burst into the house in a frenzy, calling out, "Dad!" but received no answer. Then, to his astonishment, he saw his elder brother, who had moved out after establishing his own household, back home! The entire family was gathered in the ground-floor hall, fully dressed. Several servants held suitcases, and the head butler supervising them wore a grim expression... The scene looked as though they were embarking on a long journey. "Big Brother?" Jixiu stared blankly at the neatly coiffed, middle-aged man. Wofier looked at his younger brother with a slight scowl, his voice carrying a note of rebuke. "What kind of time is it to be running around outside?! Where did you just go? Why are you only returning now!" Jixiu couldn't be bothered with his lecture. Walking up to him, he got straight to the point. "Where's Father? Where did he go?" In his heart, his old man Melvin was the pillar of the family. His father always had a solution for anything... no matter how big a mess he made. "He went to the Alliance," Wofier said, turning to their anxious mother with a grave look. "A major incident has broken out outside—you must have heard it. In short, please follow me to the Inner City to take refuge immediately... This is Father's instruction." "We may have to stay there for a while until matters settle down completely." Genisi nodded repeatedly. "Good! Stop wasting time, let's go quickly." Those beggars and paupers had lost their minds. They had been well-behaved before—who knew which fool had provoked them? The thought of those slovenly wretches covered in snot and stubble gave her goosebumps, filling her with visceral revulsion. Earlier, her good friend Bonnie seemed to have mentioned that big things were about to happen in Boulder City, advising her to stock some daily necessities in her Inner City quarters. Her husband had already made preparations in advance, storing enough consumer goods and food to sustain the family for several months. Milk, bread, canned goods, toiletries, clean bedding—everything was provided for. There was no real need to panic, actually. She had heard that similar events had happened in the past. Though she hadn't lived through them, their parents had. And according to past experience, everyone had made it through safe and sound in the end. If one truly didn't want to wait it out, one could simply find a hibernation pod and sleep for six months to a year. The only downside was that cryo-sleep dried out the skin, requiring thorough skincare afterward. Alisa's face was etched with worry. Unlike her mother, she didn't despise the people outside; she was merely worried—worried both for her father and for those people... She wondered if Father was all right. Standing before the top-floor window moments ago, she had watched throngs of people gathering in the streets, marching menacingly toward her home. A month and a half ago, it hadn't been like this. Back then, let alone displaying anger, people didn't even dare look them in the eye... Yet what she feared most had ultimately come to pass. Just as she had told her father at the celebration: if he couldn't even see their eyes, how could he know whether those pairs of eyes held respect or hatred? If only Father had taken her words seriously instead of dismissing them as the innocence of a child. Now, though, it was probably too late for that. This settlement had reached its final step after all. This time, it was truly too late... "We have to leave..." Looking at his worried younger sister, Jixiu crouched down, gazing into her jewel-like eyes. Slipping the ragdoll into her hands, he said gently, "Don't worry. Our friends in the militia will handle it... We'll be back soon." "Mm..." Alisa nodded silently, clutching the ragdoll tightly. The family exited through the backyard gate, escorted by the old butler and six servants, rushing toward the Inner City. They really should have left sooner. Wofier couldn't help cursing his damnable younger brother in his heart. Ever since the boy returned from Ideal City, he hadn't been right in the head. He should have convinced their old man to take him for a psychiatric evaluation long ago. Recently, the kid had even concocted some S-coin scheme, nearly giving him a heart attack. Yet compared to the mountain of powder kegs currently stacked inside Boulder City, that was practically the most insignificant of them all... Watching the worsening chaos in the streets, Wofier frowned. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, making him duck his head in terror. Screams shattered over the adjacent avenue like a sudden torrential downpour, immediately followed by overwhelming roars and battle cries that momentarily drowned out the abrupt gunfire. Jolted by the gunshot, Jixiu only realized after recovering his wits that the shot had actually been fired quite far away. Still shaken, he cursed, "Dammit, who's firing in the city? Have they lost their minds?" "Shut up!" Wofier snapped, turning back to his terrified sister and mother, and the frightened butler and servants, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Run!!!"