Boulder Military Industry "Broken"

[Wasteland Online Official Website] [Official Lore Compendium - Survivor Factions - "Boulder City" Entry Update: Two Hundred Years of the Building] [Synopsis: Penned by Melvin, former president of the Bank of Boulder City, this work details the two-hundred-year history of the Boulder Building, from its rise as a beacon in southern River Valley Province to its ultimate collapse.] [Main Text: (Currently in progress, stay tuned...)] ... "...This is the ledger I compiled from the Bank of Boulder City's financial records. It contains every major expenditure by Inner City residents over the past decade, as well as the traceable destinations of those funds." Boulder City Hall, reception room. A week had passed since the collapse of the Boulder Building, and the Crisis Office's work had gradually moved from initial panic and chaos onto the right track. Holding a thick ledger in both hands, Alisa solemnly presented it to Chu Guang and offered a brief explanation. This was their second meeting. She was still wearing the same padded cotton dress from their first encounter, with a cute fishbone hairpin in her hair. In just two short months, she seemed to have matured by over a decade, transforming from a crybaby little girl into an adult who understood duty and responsibility. That was the most remarkable thing of all. Looking at the poised and graceful Alisa, Chu Guang felt gratified, but he couldn't help feeling a bit perplexed. They were around the same age, so why was that kid Lyu Bei still the exact same as last year? Not a trace of change. *As expected, if you want someone to gain experience, you have to let them free-range...* While Chu Guang looked at Alisa with approval, Alisa was also secretly observing the Alliance's Administrator. The residents of the shelter were all handsome and pretty; that was nothing surprising. She had heard that many young men had fallen for the girl who cooked porridge for them every day, and some of the blue jackets who helped deliver goods and haul supplies were quite popular among the female workers of the Workers' Association. However, because the residents of Shelter 404 carried a unique aura, people sometimes didn't know how to interact or communicate with them. To be specific, it was likely an "indiscriminate optimism regardless of the occasion." Add to that their unique language and the way they shouted incomprehensible jargon at each other, and some of their bizarre behaviors became even harder to understand. Yet their Administrator was completely different. How could she describe it? If those blue jackets were like the morning sun floating in the sky, he felt like sunlight cast over the earth. Just looking at him warmed one's shoulders and heart without feeling scorching or blinding. With her cheeks blushing pink from that warm light, a hint of anticipation couldn't help but creep into Alisa's eyes. Would he praise her? "Good job." Chu Guang flipped through the ledger and handed it to Xiao Yu, who was standing nearby. "I'll leave the verification to you." Pai had discovered Xiao Yu's gift for spatial imagination and calculation long ago, and even earlier, Chu Guang had noticed her sensitivity to numbers, which was why he had arranged for her to count money and keep books for the players. Now she didn't just have raw talent; she had also mastered numerous mathematical tools and calculation methods. Auditing the ledger was a piece of cake for her and would likely take only a few days. Still, given Xiao Yu's stubborn, meticulous nature, even a matter as trivial as counting silver coins would be handled with the utmost seriousness. "Mm! Leave it to Xiao Yu!" Xiao Yu nodded earnestly, taking the thick ledger with both hands. Pai, standing beside her, curled her lips smugly. "Don't worry! My Xiao Yu is super awesome! She'll definitely get it done beautifully!" Having received praise, Xiao Yu also curled her lips in a happy smile. Soon, however, she seemed to recall something. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked at Pai and corrected her: "Xiao Yu isn't yours. If anything, I belong to Big Brother Chu." Unable to bear that earnest gaze, Pai shrank her neck back and mumbled aggrievedly, "I was just... joking. Why do you have to take it so seriously?" Chu Guang cleared his throat lightly. "Don't say that. You belong to yourself." "Mm-mm," Xiao Yu shook her head, then looked back at Chu Guang with complete seriousness. "Old Man already entrusted Xiao Yu to Big Brother Chu." Pai: "???" Chu Guang: "...?" *Holy shit!* *How long ago was that?!* Seeing Pai staring straight at him, Chu Guang subtly shifted his gaze. "That happened last winter... Don't look at me like that. It's not the kind of entrustment you're thinking of. He just asked me to take good care of her, thank you very much." He felt he had looked after her quite well and hadn't betrayed the old man's trust. Seeing that Chu Guang didn't seem to be joking, Pai let out a sigh of relief and patted her chest. "I thought so... Scared me to death." Chu Guang: "..." Even if it wasn't what she thought, that "scared me to death" still annoyed him. *Explain yourself, what's so terrifying about me?* Watching the two whisper to each other, Xiao Yu knitted her brows in dissatisfaction and muttered under her breath, "What are you two talking about? Xiao Yu already said—" "Alright, alright," Pai playfully covered Xiao Yu's mouth, laughing cheekily to gloss over the matter. "Stop talking. I got it, I got it." Growing up in a tiny place like Bet Street, it was normal for her not to understand anything. Besides, she wasn't so young anymore; once she grew a bit older, she would probably understand. Chu Guang breathed a sigh of relief. Although both grew up in small settlements, Camp 101 was more advanced than Bet Street after all. Furthermore, Pai had been taken care of by Dr. Method, so she was ultimately much more sensible than Xiao Yu. Looking at Pai messing around and Xiao Yu being unilaterally suppressed, Alisa had a dazed expression, a faint trace of disappointment surfacing in her bright eyes. Was it really just a "good job"? Feeling slightly unsatisfied, she couldn't help speaking up. "Um..." Hearing the voice from the side, Chu Guang turned toward Alisa. Seeing that she had something to say, he smiled faintly and asked, "Is something wrong?" Embarrassedly glancing to the side, Alisa whispered, "...Could you praise me a little more?" The room fell silent in an instant. Pai, hugging Xiao Yu from behind, seized the opportunity to poke Xiao Yu's puffed-out cheek. Chu Guang stared dumbfoundedly at the expectant Alisa, watching her face turn redder and redder in the quiet air. After pondering for a moment, Chu Guang stood up and walked to the office window. His gaze traveled past the frosted windowsill toward the settlement that was gradually returning to normal. "You did an extraordinary thing—so extraordinary that I wouldn't want you to take such a risk a second time. That was why I hesitated over whether to award you this medal." Pausing, he turned back to look at Alisa. "But just now, I suddenly realized I shouldn't hesitate over this. Doing the right thing deserves praise, otherwise it is a betrayal of courage." "You did very well. Everyone, including me and the survivors inside and outside the giant walls, is proud of your bravery. I also sincerely hope you will keep working hard in the future to make this settlement more prosperous than ever before, so people will never regret their pride and choices today." Sunlight happened to crest the frosted sill, shining through the misted windowpane onto Alisa's face. Her bright eyes shimmered like clear lake water, rippling like waves stirred by early spring breezes. "Thank you!" Chu Guang smiled faintly. "I should be the one thanking you. I'll still have to trouble you to help Xiao Yu with the audit." With a radiant smile blooming on her face, Alisa nodded vigorously. "Mm! Leave it to me!" ... Days slipped by, and late December soon arrived. Just one day before the Alliance's New Year's Eve, the first batch of prefabricated slab apartments was officially completed. Much like the corn buildings east of Dawn City, these apartment buildings were constructed using precast concrete slabs manufactured in Boulder City's factories, transported to the construction site, and assembled with cranes like building blocks. The newly finished residential community consisted of thirty buildings in total, each six stories high, with ten single rooms and two small shared bathrooms on each floor. It could house 1,800 households while occupying less than a third of the land previously covered by shacks, freeing up a vast amount of space to plan roads and build public amenities. Not only that, but every five buildings shared a concrete public bathhouse for the community's residents. These buildings of uniform style quickly became the most striking landscape near Boulder City's industrial zone. They were far from perfect; one could even say they had plenty of flaws. Soundproofing was poor, the floor plans were cramped, living conditions were tight, and so forth. Yet for the wasteland's survivors, especially the workers living in the industrial zone, these were hardly flaws at all. Compared to their drafty shanties of old, these corn buildings were infinitely better! Life improved one day at a time; no one expected to become wealthy overnight. After the first batch of apartment buildings was completed, the new authorities quickly fulfilled their promise. These homes were provided free of charge to homeless survivor families, with priority allocation given to survivors whose original shacks had been demolished and the construction team workers who had participated in the build. These able-bodied young adults were precisely the labor needed by the nearby industrial zone, and most of them preferred to live close to their workplaces anyway. Just as this batch of apartment buildings was being put to use, the underground tunnel between Boulder City and Dawn City was also preliminarily cleared through the joint efforts of players and survivors. Incubation chambers nesting in dark corners were thoroughly purged, along with the fruiting bodies wandering in the gloom. The players had even wiped out a cannibal tribe hidden inside the tunnel, rescuing over a dozen survivors from cages. With the cleanup complete, travel time between Boulder City and Dawn City was drastically shortened. At present, Dawn City Hall was studying and planning an access ramp connecting to the underground tunnel to integrate Boulder City into the Alliance's rail transit network. Conveniently, the Alliance was also planning to convert the original coal-burning train into electric locomotives that were cheaper to run and more environmentally friendly. The two projects could proceed side by side. Infrastructure construction continued in an orderly fashion, and with the Alliance's assistance, the Crisis Office actively transitioned into the new administration. First came the election of the Castellan. To no one's surprise, the new Castellan was Lovett, president of the Workers' Association. After the broadcast officially announced the voting results, the *Survivor Daily* published the outcome as well. His speech during the uprising had inspired survivors across the city, and his performance following the victory proved he was fully capable of shouldering the role. To use a vivid if imperfect analogy, the division between Castellan and City Hall Director was somewhat akin to a village Party branch secretary and a village mayor. In terms of specific responsibilities, the former was mainly responsible for macro-level decision-making, signing key documents, and determining what needed to be done. The latter, alongside other City Hall officials, handled concrete administrative operations, with positions filled primarily by professionals to determine how things should be carried out. Additionally, the Castellan would oversee City Hall's work, and the Castellan's authority was constitutionally granted, subject to joint supervision by Boulder City's residents and the Alliance. Lovett pledged to make "restoring industrial production and improving workers' welfare" his primary task for the next three years. If any unscrupulous merchant dared violate the Alliance's laws, he would not only kick them out, but plant a boot firmly on their backside as well. Nearly every member of the Workers' Association voted for him. Of course they knew Lovett was merely a carpenter, but they didn't care. Even a carpenter who wasn't particularly clever was better than the clever Mr. House. Besides, carpentry wasn't completely brainless work; he was literate, could do arithmetic, and could draft blueprints. It didn't matter if he was inexperienced in running a city; they were willing to wait. Sberg hadn't been able to write coherent sentences on his first try either, only picking things up gradually after reading newspapers for more than half a year. Given the Workers' Association's conduct during the crisis, the vast majority of citizens also cast their votes for Lovett. After all, this was truly a time when workers had to shoulder the burden, and the other citizens couldn't produce a widely accepted representative anyway. The Alliance had no objections to the choice Boulder City presented. However, to placate internal Alliance and Boulder City "loyalist" concerns regarding legitimacy, Chu Guang drafted a formal letter of appointment to Lovett after the vote concluded. He wrote in the appointment letter: "'Worker's Daily' voiced the call of progress. I hope you will live up to the people's trust and keep that progressive voice ringing." With that, the Crisis Office officially completed its transition to the new administration. Though people's lives were still quite a distance away from fully returning to normal, with factories reopening one after another and the first windproof apartment buildings completed through collective effort, everyone saw the dawn of a new life. Alliance laws would be enforced here. Sweatshops and the Boulder Building had become history. No one doubted that everything would get better... ... While Boulder City's NPCs were busy rushing toward their new lives, the Alliance's players were far from idle. In fact, one could say they were busier than usual... Boulder Military Industry Building, cybernetics operating theater. Ibers stared at the 3D model on his tablet, scratched his chin with his index finger, and glanced at a certain fellow already lying flat on his stomach on the operating table, rear sticking up. "Are you certain you want this installed on your body?" Considering the fragility of organic life and the risks inherent to the procedure, his professional ethics compelled him to ask one final time. Lying on the table, however, Mosquito wasn't grateful in the least and urged him impatiently: "Cut the chatter, hurry up! I already paid!" *This NPC talks too much!* Directly above the operating table hung a dense tangle of cables, pipes, and implements; aside from welding torches, there were circular bone saws. Facing away from such contraptions would make anyone's scalp tingle. Seeing the engineers and chief surgeons looking at each other, Ibers scratched his head, ultimately tossing both his tablet and professional ethics aside to say cheerfully: "Very well, I respect your choice... Customer preference comes first, after all." Those words sounded almost as though spoken for some restraining protocol within him to hear. After waiting a moment and seeing no adverse reaction, Ibers snapped his fingers merrily, signaling the engineers and surgeons in the theater to take up their tools and get to work. Before the anesthetic needle could even go in, Brother Mosquito rolled his eyes back, logged out of his flesh, and departed for the other world. Sparks flashed continuously over the operating table. At one moment came the sizzle of electrical current, at another the grating crunch of saws cutting bone. Under the bustling hands of several technicians, blood splattered everywhere, and the operating theater filled with a burnt, singed stench. Raucous though the commotion was, the results did not cut corners in the slightest. They sliced away a large section of the patient's spine, replaced it with an alloy mechanical backbone, stitched the incision, and fitted eight mechanical arms into eight corresponding docking ports. Once the surgery was finished, Mosquito looked as though an eight-legged spider were crouching on his back with its legs curled up. A few hours later, the anesthesia had fully worn off. Mosquito snapped his eyes open. Before his limbs could move, the eight arms on his back flapped into motion first. Feeling the bizarre sensation, he scrambled off the operating table and looked into the mirror handed to him by the lead surgeon, his face filled with fanatical delight. "Holy shit! Badass!" *This skin is insane!* The eight mechanical arms were just like his own limbs, moving freely under the control of his thoughts, even transmitting sensory feedback close to actual touch. "Hahahaha! I'm Doctor Octopus now!" Watching the patient dance with ecstatic glee, Ibers couldn't understand what he was hollering about, but kindly offered a reminder nonetheless: "If you regret it, you can still swap back; we cryopreserved your original spine. Also, if you don't want massive hemorrhaging, please do not walk on your cybernetics... Let me remind you once more: those are mechanical arms, not mechanical legs." Paying no heed whatsoever to the warning, Mosquito cheekily picked up the backless padded coat he had prepared beforehand, put it on, and patted Ibers on the shoulder with a mechanical hand. "Thanks, old iron! If this works well, I'll recommend it to anyone who needs it!" "Old iron? Aged metal? Is he referring to me?" Ibers stroked his chin, his eyebrows arching in amusement as he muttered to himself, "Fascinating name..." It did suit him quite well. After all, his AI core was indeed getting on in years. Organic beings were detestable, yet these fellows were quite interesting. At least, far more entertaining than his previous clients. Watching the shelter resident named "WC Really Has Mosquitoes" leave the operating theater in ecstatic triumph, Ibers felt genuinely happy for him. He was quite satisfied with this new creation of his. He only hoped this none-too-bright organic wouldn't end up crying in a few days. Picking up the tablet, Ibers swiped it with his index finger, muttering to himself: "Wants a fist as big as a clay pot installed... What's a clay pot? An arm that can launch 'Pigeon' missiles... Tsk tsk, do these fellows have any idea how heavy that thing is?" Still— It sounded rather interesting. A cheerful smile surfaced on Ibers's face. Stowing the tablet, he looked at the engineers and surgeons in the theater, cleared his throat, and announced: "A new job has arrived." Several engineers exchanged wry glances. "Are eight mechanical arms really going to be fine...?" "I'm more worried his head won't handle the strain. At the very least, we should have installed a cooling plug-in for his cerebellum." "I'm afraid it's not just a matter of heat dissipation." "A pity... If only we had bionic chips." Getting life back on track was a good thing, but the engineers couldn't shake the feeling that the weapons their factory produced were becoming increasingly abnormal. Was it really okay to conduct 'human experimentation' on those blue jackets? And self-funded experimentation at that... It wasn't merely guilt; they felt genuine pangs of conscience. Their android boss, Ibers, however, saw things differently. These shelter residents who "genuinely adored his designs" were infinitely more lovable than those finicky, nitpicking clients from before! Indeed, selling himself to that man was the wisest choice he could have ever made! "Customer preference comes first! Tsk tsk... Let me see. Mounting the launch tube between the radius and ulna, then adding a fist the size of an iron wok should satisfy the customer's needs." "Still, that would make the arm's weight exceed the customer's original body weight. The shoulder blades and spine will have to be swapped for sturdier prosthetics as well..." "Let me calculate. A quote of... five hundred thousand silver coins should be reasonable!" His muttered monologue grew increasingly thrilled, and the smile on Ibers's face broadened. It seemed he wouldn't be bored for at least the next five years! Just then, an assistant drone floated in, hovering behind him. At the same time, a flat, robotic voice sounded: "New order received from the Burning Corps." Surprise showed slightly on Ibers's face. Reaching for his tablet, he opened the latest orders list and located the new order reported by the AI assistant. "Complete infantry equipment suite against mutants, including protective gear and weapons... Quantity: five hundred sets. Maximum budget: five million silver coins." Detailed specifications were listed within the order. This naturally wasn't something that could be brushed off with a few bulletproof vests and rifles; they required an infantry kit capable of mowing down mutants like chopping vegetables and slicing melons. Foreseeably, this was merely the beginning. More orders would surely follow! Gently scratching his chin with an index finger, Ibers's electronic eyes gleamed with intense interest, and a meaningful grin crept across his face. What intrigued him was not merely this seemingly ordinary order, but the information revealed behind it. "...The Tide hasn't even begun, yet they're already preparing to eradicate the mutants in the south?" Fascinating. His new clients were truly becoming more and more fascinating! ... After Boulder City integrated into the Alliance, the official website added entries for a batch of new NPCs, among whom Boulder Military Industry's Ibers was undoubtedly the most popular. Especially after seeing Brother Mosquito's eight-clawed mechanical arms, many players practically had green eyes from envy. However, after seeing the exorbitant prices of cybernetic prosthetics, most cooled down. As expected, custom-made modifications were luxury novelties only the filthy rich could afford to play around with; they had better wait until the technology matured and purchase relatively cheaper mass-produced models. Goblin Tech's workshop. Enviously looking at the eight arms on Mosquito's back, Quan Jia reached out, touched them, and couldn't help remarking: "...This new gear of yours is seriously badass!" A few days ago, Mosquito had mysteriously claimed he had to go on a long trip, and they had wondered what he was up to. It turned out he had run over to their neighbor's place to undergo cybernetic augmentation surgery. Zhui Hun couldn't resist a sour jab: "Looks badass, but who knows what it's good for." With his nose tilted almost all the way to the sky, Mosquito rolled his eyes at him: "What the hell do you know! I have ten hands now! I can tighten screws five times faster than you!" Zhui Hun chuckled and scoffed: "Tch, what's the damn point of being fast?" Before Mosquito could react, his other disciple, Sha Shen, followed up with a question: "Pardon my ignorance, but doesn't this affect your real-world life?" "Not really. Once you take off the helmet, you can't even feel the eight arms..." One of the mechanical hands folded behind his back scratched his head. Mosquito thought for a moment, then amended, "Well, not completely unaffected. I always feel like something's missing, which is weirdly inconvenient." *If only I could get a set in reality too, that would be epic!* Just thinking of that scene made Mosquito grin from ear to ear. Quan Jia still wore a covetous expression, his eyes fixed on the eight mechanical arms, and couldn't help smacking his lips: "Damn... Once I've got the money, I'm getting a set too!" Sha Shen continued curiously, "Pardon my ignorance again, but how much did this cost you?" Mosquito curled his lips smugly: "Four hundred thousand." The moment the words left his mouth, the other four were instantly stunned. "Holy shit!" "Are you insane?! Four hundred thousand for this thing?!" "???" What shocked them even more was that this guy had quietly made so much money that he could throw it down the drain for fun without feeling a shred of heartache! Looking at how provincial and inexperienced they were, Mosquito curled his lip disdainfully: "Tch, uncultured swine with zero vision! What do you mean four hundred thousand for this thing? Once I bring it back and study it thoroughly, wouldn't it be amazing if we could make our own?!" Quan Jia couldn't help giving him a thumbs-up: "Brilliant! That's our boss!" Then again, how were they supposed to study it? He tinkered with drones, Zhui Hun worked with chemical engineering, Sha Shen repaired automobiles, and counting Brother Duo Ming whose specialty was anyone's guess, not one of them understood neural interfaces. Besides, was there even similar tech in reality? While neural links existed in the real world, compared to this ridiculous black tech in the game, they were on completely different dimensional planes! Right at that moment, Duo Ming, who hadn't spoken the entire time, suddenly spoke up: "I've been thinking about a question just now... Now that you've installed this thing, how are you gonna fly planes?" The original W-2 was cheap enough that crashing it didn't hurt. But this rig cost four hundred thousand... Good grief! How many planes was that worth?! Not just Duo Ming—the other three froze, then snapped to their senses, turning silently to look at their sucker of a boss. The air fell into an eerie silence for a moment. Mosquito's expression went from stunned to dazed, and finally morphed into a living mask of agony as two steel claws clutched his head. "Fuck!" He had been too hasty!