Cover Blown?

At the very center of Pinecone Wood Farm stood a magnificent manor estate. Standing in the manor's study, farm owner Zhao Tiangan held a spyglass, gazing intently out the window. His gaze swept over dense clusters of houses and came to rest on the trading post beside the perimeter wall. Six trucks were parked there, flanked by convoy guards and mercenaries, with a ring of heavily armed soldiers surrounding them. Having stepped down from a truck, Wu Wenzhou was speaking with an officer who had approached to question him. Soon, several soldiers cradling LD-47 assault rifles stepped forward and hauled a few wooden crates off the trucks. One soldier went up with a crowbar and pried the crates open one by one, revealing gleaming yellow cartridges and neatly stacked rifles inside. Those were precisely the goods he needed. Seeing this, a broad smile finally spread across Zhao Tiangan's face, and he set the spyglass down on the table beside him. At almost the exact same moment, a knock sounded at the door behind him. In high spirits, Zhao Tiangan called out casually, "Come in." The door opened, and his steward walked in. "Yang He's caravan has returned. Following your instructions, he exchanged the earned silver coins for munitions..." Ma Zhongxian reported respectfully, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward the table beside his master and the open window. He understood at once. Before he had even reported, the master had already seen it with his own eyes. With a smug grin on his face, Zhao Tiangan said unhurriedly, "I knew it. Mr. Yang is a smart man. He really was just delayed on the road. We almost wronged an innocent person." Ma Zhongxian nodded slightly. "There is one more matter... regarding Apostle Zhang Zhengyang." Zhao Tiangan immediately asked, "Any news?" Ma Zhongxian nodded silently, then continued, "After your orders, I had the security squad dispatch a few scouts to Dust Town to look into the situation. As it turns out... the place has been destroyed." "Destroyed?!" Zhao Tiangan's eyes widened, staring at him anxiously. "Then... where is the apostle?!" A bitter expression surfaced on Ma Zhongxian's face, and he shook his head. "Unknown. The entire town was burned to the ground, but no corpses were found. Our men searched all over town and found no trace of Mr. Zhang. However, they did find a pile of bodies at the grave mound to the north... The militiamen we sent to assist him were among them." Zhao Tiangan clenched his fists. He was not pained over the forty-one militiamen; there were as many serfs on the farm as he could ever want. The two things he lacked least were humans and livestock. What made him nervous was that Zhang Zhengyang's whereabouts were unknown. If he could once afford to disregard the Church of the Torch and care nothing about offending those madmen, he dared not do so now. Ever since the Na fruit "cured" his chronic lung illness, he had become utterly dependent on the Holy Son's "Gospel." "What about the apostle's body?!" Ma Zhongxian replied respectfully, "Our men checked thoroughly. It was not in the grave." Zhao Tiangan exhaled in relief, muttering under his breath, "At least he's still alive." Watching his master, Ma Zhongxian hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Afterward, our men pressed on with searching the surrounding area, attempting to locate the apostle's trail... Yet after heading south for a dozen kilometers or so, they discovered signs of mutant activity." At those words, a trace of bewilderment appeared on Zhao Tiangan's face. "...Mutants?" "Yes, Master. And at least a hundred-strong," Ma Zhongxian nodded, his voice heavy. "There were signs of battle nearby. Every indication suggests... that band of mutants destroyed Dust Town. "What's more, they went to Hope Town afterward!" Zhao Tiangan gazed blankly out the window. Going to Dust Town made sense to him; Tribe Qi in the urban ruins was an ally of the Church of the Torch, so it was only natural for allies to step in when trouble arose. But what were they doing going to Hope Town? Wasn't that a parish of the Church of the Torch? He recalled the apostle personally promising him that as long as they converted to the Torch faith, they would be spared from mutant harassment. That was also one of the reasons he had converted. Intuition told him something beyond his comprehension was unfolding across this land, and very likely, he was already caught up in it... After pondering for a long while, he gritted his teeth and said, "...Summon the priest to see me." He had to speak with the bishop! Ma Zhongxian bowed his head slightly. "At once." *** While Zhao Tiangan was pacing back and forth in his study, a group of players stood at the entrance of Pinecone Wood Farm, curiously taking in their surroundings. Though called a farm, the place looked remarkably like a classical city. Granite-masonry walls encircled clusters of brick-and-timber buildings, while orchards and farmlands stretched outside. Aside from the trees covered in pustules and the farmlands overrun with emerald fungal patches, it actually had a somewhat pastoral feel. Yu looked around with an uneasy air. Noticing Yu's reaction, Luo Yu asked in a low voice over the communication channel, "What's wrong? Feeling unwell?" Yu gave a faint whimper. "Ee-woo..." There was an odor here that thoroughly disgusted it. Something filthy was nearby. The feeling was like standing right beside excrement. While that garbage posed no real threat to it, it made its fruiting body instinctively feel revulsion. "Bear with it for a bit longer. We'll leave soon," Luo Yu soothed in a low voice over the channel, picking up on the discomfort in that whimper. Yu murmured understandingly, "Ee-woo..." Around the same time, beside the lead truck, Wu Wenzhou handed a cigarette to a potbellied, middle-aged officer. The middle-aged officer deftly took it, leaned into Wu's lighter, and lit it up. Puffing out clouds of smoke, he asked, "How come that Yang fellow didn't come back this time?" Wu Wenzhou replied respectfully, "Mr. Yang He happened to have some business to attend to..." The middle-aged officer grinned. "Doesn't he want to see his darling daughter anymore?" "Work is only temporary. He'll reunite with his family later," Wu Wenzhou replied with a smile, then glanced around. "Speaking of which, things have changed quite a bit around here..." "Haven't they just?" The middle-aged officer chuckled, speaking with swaggering confidence. "Ever since the master brought in a batch of new crops from the south, life has been looking up day by day." "The new crops are..." "Emerald trees. Those over there." Holding his cigarette between two fingers, the officer pointed toward the orchard outside the wall. With a mysterious smile, he added, "Not only do they fetch a hefty price, they've got other uses too... Great, isn't it?" "That is... truly wonderful." Wu Wenzhou forced a smile, though he sighed softly in his heart. He had read reports about "Na fruit" in the *Survivor Daily*, which cited the Alliance Biological Research Institute's analysis of this peculiar crop. According to the institute, this crop was essentially a mushroom-like fungus. Any animal or human that consumed it would ultimately become fodder for it. Having planted this stuff, this settlement was practically doomed. "If only we could sell this stuff up north," the officer continued daydreaming, squinting toward the north. Wu Wenzhou smiled and replied, "I'm afraid that might be difficult. The northern survivors... aren't quite open to such avant-garde novelties." "Where there's a will, there's a way," the officer pulled his gaze back from the distance, clapped Wu Wenzhou on the shoulder, and grinned. "As long as we get a couple of bites into them, they won't be able to live without us." Once the northern factory owners were hooked on Na fruit, Jinchuan Province would become crucial once more. Looking at the daydreaming fool, Wu Wenzhou chuckled obligingly. *Can't live without us, sure...* *If that day ever comes, knowing the Alliance's style, those folks will just come over and physically eliminate the problem.* While the farm soldiers were opening the crates on the trucks for inspection, Ye Shi stood off to the side, quietly observing them. "Damn... Even the soldiers here use LD-47s?" If you looked strictly at the weapons in their hands, it almost felt like being back home. Fang Chang glanced at the rifles the soldiers carried and said, "Looks like they're using the export variant." Ye Shi looked at him curiously. "What's the difference?" "Simply put, the stopping power and recoil have been nerfed quite a bit. The 7mm full-power rounds were swapped out for intermediate cartridges. Theoretically, at a hundred meters, it shouldn't penetrate the frontal armor of K-10 'Iron Wall' or Type 6 'Heavy Cavalry' exoskeletons." As he spoke, Fang Chang surveyed his surroundings, forming a general assessment of their armed forces while noting the positions of several firing points near the gate. Like most plantation-style settlements in Jinchuan Province, Pinecone Wood Farm possessed practically zero domestic industrial capacity. The majority of their weapons came from Boulder City or Alliance munitions factories. The most common sights here were weapons phased out by the Alliance. The machine guns were primarily Maxim Type Is, the rifles mostly LD-47s and "Drone" assault rifles, and the exoskeletons were mainly KV series models with a handful of modified "Miner" units. Their heavy support weapons included some quad-mount 20mm antiaircraft guns and the like. Beyond that, he spotted several RPGs and recoilless rifles, slung across the backs of the elite soldiers or mounted on fixed tripods behind sandbag barriers. This place was practically an upgraded African plantation—aside from serfs, there were only private troops conscripted from among the serfs, completely unlike Hope Town with its predominantly freeman population. From an equipment standpoint, this settlement was hardly worth mentioning. The only noteworthy aspect was the sheer number of soldiers. A settlement of fifty thousand people actually maintained three thousand-man regiments! According to the NPC named Wu Wenzhou, the farm owner Zhao Tiangan had long harbored grand ambitions to consolidate all the farms around Jinhe City, and had never been stingy about investing in armaments. Besides the visible small arms, he had reportedly bought some weird, exotic gear from even farther away. Even so, Fang Chang paid it no mind. What a joke. The folks beside him had fought their way right through Falcon City—why would they fear a bunch of rookies wielding piecemeal, purchased gear? Around that time, having finished handing over the goods, Wu Wenzhou walked over and lowered his voice. "I told the guards' commanding officer that you're from the Flame Mercenary Corps, well-known in the Xizhou City area... They've never been that far and don't even know where Xizhou City is, but that doesn't stop them from wanting to get on your good side." Fang Chang raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?" "They want to treat you to dinner. They probably want to win you over and test the waters... The venue is the Xinglong Restaurant inside the farm." Ye Shi asked in surprise, "There's a restaurant here too?" If he remembered correctly, Pinecone Wood Farm wasn't open to outsiders, was it? And the survivors here were basically all serfs—in other words, the landlord's private property. Never mind not having wages, this place probably didn't even have its own currency. What was a restaurant doing here, acting as decoration? Noticing the confusion in his eyes, Wu Wenzhou cleared his throat and explained, "Of course there is. While Pinecone Wood Farm isn't open to outsiders, the officers and administrators here do earn wages, usually paid in dinars. They can't just spend those dinars on rations; they need recreation too, and they can't travel to the neighboring town every single time. Besides, they occasionally have distinguished guests to entertain... In any case, the restaurant's ambiance is quite nice, and the chefs there are the very same ones who cook for Master Zhao's manor." Not caring about those trivial details, Fang Chang cut straight to the chase. "How far is that place from the farm owner's manor?" Wu Wenzhou thought for a moment. "Just one street over... around six or seven hundred meters." "Six hundred meters, huh..." Fang Chang stroked his chin and nodded. "No problem." From his dealings with Kong Lingkai earlier, Fang Chang had gained some understanding of the suspicious, death-fearing mindset of the local farm owners. In all likelihood, that master would arrange their lodgings along or even outside the perimeter wall, with guards keeping a close watch. This dinner was probably their one and only opportunity to get close to the manor at the center of the settlement. After all, they were ostensibly mercenaries working for coin; nobody could guarantee they had taken on only a single contract. Judging from the soldiers around them, it wasn't hard to see that the farm owner didn't particularly trust this subordinate who spent all year away handling commerce. This banquet likely carried an element of testing the waters, and those fellows might even attempt to bribe them during the meal. Watching the flicker in Fang Chang's eyes, Wu Wenzhou asked in a hushed voice, "What do you plan to do?" On the way here, he had asked roundabout questions, trying to pry information from their lips, but they had refused to disclose a thing. Personally, he would have preferred if these people used that fire-spewing aircraft from earlier to swoop in and snatch his family straight out. Yet seeing the quad-mount antiaircraft guns on the perimeter walls, he figured it wouldn't be easy for that plane to fly in either. Seeing Mr. Wu's cautious inquiry, Fang Chang offered a faint smile. "That can't be explained in just a few words." The smile was impossible to read. Unease immediately stirred in Wu Wenzhou's heart. "My family..." "Don't worry. Have them stay at home, and leave the rest to us." Fang Chang patted his shoulder, giving him a reassuring look. Yet looking at the cheery grin on the man's face, Wu Wenzhou couldn't feel reassured in the slightest; his heart thumped wildly like a drum. Still, it was too late to step off this pirate ship now. He had no choice but to see it through to the bitter end. Seeing that the officer was still watching their direction, Wu Wenzhou swallowed hard and nodded. "Alright." With that, he turned and walked back, conveying the news of their acceptance to the officer. A pleasant smile broke across the officer's face, and he turned to report to his superiors. Watching the man walk away, Fang Chang tapped his headset. "The opportunity is here... Lao Bai, we're counting on you guys for support." After a burst of static, Lao Bai's voice came through the comms channel. "No problem! We're all set!" *** Weapons were not permitted inside Pinecone Wood Farm. Aside from Luo Yu and Yu's clones who remained at the gate, the players of the Burning Corps left all their gear at the settlement entrance. "I'll leave watching our gear to you." Taking the rifle from Fang Chang's hands, Luo Yu said hesitantly, "Are you sure it's fine for you guys to go in like this?" "No problem," Fang Chang said with a smile. "Whatever we need, Lao Bai and the others will deliver it to us anyway." Luo Yu nodded and warned solemnly, "Take it easy in there... Don't go botching my quest." "Relax, absolutely no chance of that!" Fang Chang chuckled, waving a hand, and followed the guide leading them to the banquet. The Xinglong Restaurant was situated in the core district of Pinecone Wood Farm. This was perhaps the cleanest and most bustling street in the entire settlement. Most businesses along the street were properties owned and operated by the farm owner himself—there were shops, restaurants, and places whose purpose was impossible to discern from the outside alone. Regardless of the establishment, every storefront was constructed lavishly and with decent taste. Walking here felt entirely different from outside; only here did it feel nothing like a plantation, resembling instead a commercial street typical of an ordinary settlement. The jarring part, however, was how deserted these shops were. There were virtually no customers, making them look like roadside ornamental displays. The man escorting the players to the restaurant was the captain of the northern gate guards, a talkative middle-aged man named Liu Lei. Under his guidance, the ten players from the Burning Corps effortlessly navigated the farm's layers of defenses and arrived at this street closest to the central manor. Along the way, the NPC's mouth never stopped running, endlessly introducing Na fruit, the pillar industry of Pinecone Wood Farm. It was as if they weren't mercenaries, but visiting merchants conducting an inspection tour. Fang Chang feigned interest as he listened, chiming in here and there, though he felt nothing but disdain inside. He knew what calculations lay behind this fellow's master. It was nothing more than wanting to use their "quite powerful mercenary corps from the Alliance" to sell their local "specialty" into the Alliance. Yet this fellow probably wouldn't imagine in his wildest dreams just whom he was pitching his master's business plan to. They finally arrived at their destination, where an officer in formal attire, clearly of notable status, was already waiting for them. Seeing the group arrive, the officer's eyes lit up. A radiant smile appeared on his face as he stepped forward, extending his right hand. "Welcome, friends from afar! I am Luo Feihui, Chiliarch of this farm. The master specifically instructed me to convey his gratitude to you—thank you for bringing this precious shipment of munitions from the north!" Not expecting to dine with a chiliarch, Fang Chang feigned a flattered expression, took his hand with a smile, and said, "You flatter us! We're just mercenaries taking coin to do a job." Chiliarch Luo Feihui smiled and remarked, "You don't look like mercenaries." Maintaining his smile, Fang Chang asked, "Why do you say that?" Chiliarch Luo Feihui withdrew his hand and continued with a smile, "I've dealt with plenty of mercenaries. Most speak crudely, have ill manners, and are rarely so well-behaved. But you are different. Not only are you courteous and polite, your hands don't bear a single callus... If you'll pardon my bluntness, you don't look like a weathered wastelander at all. Rather, you look like—" At this point, he paused deliberately. "—a shelter resident." The moment those words fell, except for Fang Chang standing directly before him, the other players around them all twitched their eyebrows, a flash of surprise crossing their eyes. *Holy shit.* *Cover blown?!*