January, the coldest month, had passed, and the February sunlight had taken on a hint of warmth, no longer icy like the start of winter when it felt like being submerged in cold water.
Hardly any snow had fallen on Jinhe City all winter, so there probably wouldn't be any damp chill from thawing snow. Even so, Langtou still felt somewhat uneasy in his heart. After all, there would be no more blessings of Na fruit from now on.
If anything hurt in the future, no church would care for them anymore.
Fortunately, the grayish-green fog had finally dispersed completely, and the steel monster floating in the sky had also left.
Langtou couldn't help wondering whether that musty-smelling fog had been brought by that thing.
Otherwise, it was hard to explain why the fog had rolled in as soon as that thing arrived, and why the fog had cleared as soon as that thing left...
At that moment, the bell outside the window rang right on time, followed immediately by a long cry like a rooster crowing.
"Assemble—!"
That was the team leader's shout.
A burly man came out beating a gong, hollering at the top of his lungs.
Not only was the man shouting, but women, old folk, and a half-grown kid were shouting as well.
Though what they shouted differed, their tones were equally urgent.
Hearing the bells and noisy clamor outside, Langtou didn't even have time for his wife and kids. He hurriedly got dressed and rushed out the door, scrambling to fall into line under the team leader's urging and barking.
Ever since that new lord city-master had arrived, new rules had been imposed on the settlement.
It had divided Singularity City into "blocks": ten people to a team, ten teams to a squad, ten squads to a district. Men, women, children, and the elderly all had their own organizations, engaged in work including farming, construction, resource gathering, handicrafts, studying, and so on.
In short, each district had its own production quota, and tasks were passed down tier by tier, growing more specific at each level—from a general construction zoning plan down to a single window or door on a specific building; from a broad swath of farmland down to what crop to plant on a single mu.
Performance evaluations worked the same way. The city master evaluated the district heads' results, the district heads inspected squad leaders, squad leaders checked team leaders, and team leaders oversaw the other nine people in their team.
If a district failed to meet its production quota, its ration tier dropped by one level, lowering the standard of living for everyone in the entire district. Then the district head would review the performance of each squad, passing accountability and punishment down tier by tier to pinpoint which squad was at fault, and that squad's living standard would drop another tier.
And so on and so forth.
So although the city master had established only three official tiers of living standards, in reality, the differences branched into 3 × 3 × 3 levels.
In a sense, this was also a system of collective responsibility.
If one person slacked off, ten people were punished together. Therefore, nine people would despise the slacker, and no one wanted to be the unlucky wretch everyone hated.
However, despite Singularity City having an extraordinary number of rules and regulations, the selection of managerial personnel had been absurdly casual.
He still remembered when people were assigned their ID numbers. Everyone was still trying to figure out what the new rules meant when the new city master suddenly announced that whoever wanted to be a manager should step forward. Langtou then watched the original overseers from the farm instantly step forward.
The first ones to step out became team leaders.
Eventually, through methods Langtou didn't understand, these people selected squad leaders and district heads.
Whenever he thought back to that moment, he couldn't help regretting why he hadn't dared to be more proactive. Seeing those overseers stick their feet out, he had pulled back the foot he'd started to extend.
If he had stepped out just a bit faster, maybe he would have been a team leader too!
Then it would be his turn to holler at others to get out of bed.
...
The moment the six o'clock bell tolled, every house across Singularity City emptied out.
Households broke apart immediately, assembling into groups amid the shouts and shuffling off in loose lines under their team leaders to gather with their squads.
Aside from eight hours of sleep, the remaining hours of the day—whether working or resting—were spent within the organization.
Although this management model fractured families, the synchronized routine and schedule kept things from feeling chaotic.
There was no need to worry about anyone refusing to comply, either.
Supplies were not distributed on a household basis, but were centrally allocated by the organization. Taking rations home to help family members was impossible.
Taking issued clothes home for family to wear was fine, but they could only wear them at home.
After all, once outside the front door, one was among their team; if spotted and reported by others in the team, both the giver and the recipient would be punished.
And the informant would receive an extra reward.
Reporting violations was not hard at all. There was no need to go through a team leader; one could report directly to a patrolling drone.
At 6:20, all teams were fully assembled and began jogging in circles to warm up. Right after morning exercise, breakfast was served.
Breakfast was usually a bowl of hot porridge. By seven o'clock, with breakfast finished, work officially began.
One group carried axes and saws, chopping down the grove of Kamu trees outside the wall where Na fruits had been grown and clearing the ground with flame weeders to prepare for the upcoming spring plowing.
Another group bustled about on construction sites, erecting public facilities and new dormitories.
Nobody slacked off.
On the one hand, they wanted to make a good impression before their new master; on the other, nobody wanted to live off two ram horn potatoes and a middle-finger-length tube of protein paste every day.
Although the middle-tier living standard was also monotonous, the ram horn potatoes were replaced with potatoes or rice, a boiled green vegetable was added to the menu, and the finger-length tube of protein paste was swapped for a hundred to three hundred grams of meat.
Yes.
Actual meat!
Leaving aside the residents of Hope Town who hadn't had it too bad before, the liberated serfs put their backs into the work with everything they had.
Kong Lingkai, on the other hand, wore a face of pure misery, groaning and grumbling ceaselessly on the construction site.
Having lived a life of luxury and fine clothes, when had he ever done manual labor like this?
He had already begun to regret following the residents of Hope Town here, endlessly cursing Ma Hechang for duping him into coming.
Unfortunately, leaving was out of the question now.
To secure the Alliance's protection and new power, he had voluntarily handed over his servants and property to the new city master, never expecting that all he would get in return was a shabby shack and an ID number.
Not even a single silver coin.
Only later did he learn, between tears and laughter, from a guard on duty that this was merely Singularity City, not the Alliance at all, so naturally he wouldn't be compensated under Alliance laws.
The guard told him he was free to leave at any time, but how could he possibly leave?
Outside was the wasteland!
He couldn't even handle moderately heavy labor; if he went out into the wasteland, not even bone fragments would be left of him!
Ma Hechang, who had also come from Hope Town, looked just as miserable. Carrying bricks, he panted breathlessly, his shoulders and arms aching as though his tendons had been severed.
He had assumed his sincere displays of cooperation would be enough to win the Alliance's trust, but he hadn't imagined they wouldn't care in the slightest. Forget about special privileges or favors—he wasn't even given slightly better treatment.
Not only that, those fellows even looked down on his management skills, preferring those who stepped forward quickly over him, a former mayor who had governed a town of a thousand households!
He had truly pressed his warm face against a cold behind!
Ma Hechang cursed bitterly in his heart, yet there was nothing he could do.
After all, the gun barrels were in their hands. Since he was here, he could only endure it...
Looking at the bustling, fiery hive of activity before her, Yinyin, standing at the manor gate, had astonishment written all over her face.
Having lived on the farm for so long, she had never seen everyone work with such enthusiasm.
"Did we come to the wrong place...?" she murmured in a small voice.
Standing beside her holding her small hand, Eclipse showed equal surprise on its face.
Only, its reason for surprise was completely different.
Rather than a settlement, this place looked more like a prison.
Now it understood what Mr. Kang Le had been worried about...
This fellow had indeed been observing various settlements of the Alliance and seriously conducting sociological research to find a management model suited for wastelanders.
However, it had probably treated the Alliance's POW camps as some kind of special settlement to study as well...
"Ah, Eclipse, you're finally back!" Noticing the Orca transport aircraft parked before the settlement gates, Frost, clad in a maid outfit, walked over with a smile.
A glow of satisfaction shone in its smile, especially when its gaze fell upon Yinyin next to Eclipse.
"How is it? Satisfied with the new body?"
Yinyin nodded and whispered politely, "Thank you."
Some time ago, she had gone to Ideal City with Eclipse and underwent transplant surgery at a hospital under Comma Group, having the bionic chip containing her consciousness transplanted into a new body tailored specifically for her.
Though she had gone from human to bionic person, it didn't seem much different from before.
If anything, it was even more convenient.
After a few days of adjusting, she not only found that she had gradually mastered this new body, but also discovered the new abilities she possessed:
She could sense the existence of other chips, perceive the thoughts of those who, like her, had bionic chips implanted, and use resonance through their minds to form an even vaster space.
That space was even broader than the pure white room she had stayed in before.
That seemed to be where Luo Qian had once resided.
Though she didn't know why he had done it, he seemed to have given all of it to her.
Yinyin had already mentioned this to Chen Yutong. Although she didn't know what practical use this ability had for now, it might come in handy in the future.
"You're quite welcome. In fact, I should be thanking you," Frost said, squatting before Yinyin and taking her right hand with a bright smile. "Trust me, this is only the beginning. The future Singularity City will be even better!"
Yinyin blushed and nodded.
She didn't understand those complicated matters; her gaze had been glued to the dress Frost was wearing.
Unable to hold back her curiosity any longer, she asked softly, "What kind of dress is that?"
"Ah, you mean this?" Frost let go of her hand, stood up, twirled in place, and smiled as it lifted the ankle-length hem of the dress. "This is a work of art designed by Tengteng's Cabin. It's exceptionally popular in Dawn City! Isn't it amazing?"
Of course, that wasn't the only popular one; there were plenty of styles and varieties.
It was just that, according to its meticulous observations, this dress had the highest head-turn rate when worn.
Looking at the beautiful pleats, Yinyin nodded with admiration in her eyes. "So amazing..."
Frost curved its lips smugly. "Human creativity is boundless. Keeping them engaged in repetitive labor is simply a waste of their creativity. One day, I will liberate them from onerous obligations to pursue things of far greater meaning."
Yinyin looked half-comprehending, but the fondness and admiration in her eyes were genuine.
Appreciating beautiful things was human nature; if possible, she wanted to try wearing one too.
She just didn't know if there was a size that fit her.
"...Can I try it on too?"
Frost nodded with a smile. "Of course you can, though unfortunately I only have this one. But don't worry, difficulties are temporary. Sooner or later, we'll make sure everyone here gets to wear one!"
Everyone wearing one?
Yinyin froze for a moment, sensing that something was slightly off, yet unable to put her finger on what. She unconsciously tilted her head.
Eclipse rubbed its chin thoughtfully, then spoke up. "So... what exactly is this creativity you keep talking about?"
Frost immediately answered with a smile. "The pursuit of beauty, of course! Because the subject is human, this is an ability bionic people lack, and one that only humans can possess."
The confusion on Eclipse's face deepened. "But I've looked at the schedule you set. You've planned out every minute of their time. Do they even have any time left to pursue such things?"
Frost wore a confident, charming smile. "Those are minor issues! 'The pursuit of beauty' is also part of the plan. When the time is ripe, I will supervise and urge them to pursue it!"
Eclipse stared at it blankly.
This time, Yinyin wasn't the only one tilting her head—it couldn't help tilting its head as well.
It suddenly felt that humans weren't the only ones difficult to understand; its own kind was pretty baffling too...
...
Survivor Daily, Page 7:
[...After a period of adjustment, the survivors of Singularity City have finally settled into an orderly life under the administration of bionic people. The influence of Na fruits, plague, and religious factions is gradually being eradicated from this land.
The acting city master of Singularity City welcomes caravans to visit for trade, offering an unlimited supply of high-grade rubber and cotton, with urgent demands for fertilizer, high-yield seeds, farming machinery, and various industrial consumer goods.
This newspaper will continue to follow and report on Singularity City's progress.
— Contributor: Dolly]
Boulder City, Pirate Bay Tavern.
Though it was only eight in the morning, the place was already bustling and noisy.
A bearded man flipped through the newspaper in his hands, clicking his tongue with a grin.
"How nice. They didn't have to do a thing and got everything. Food, housing, clothing, bionic people looking after their daily lives, and even a railway."
Hearing his sarcastic, slightly complaining tone, a drunk drinking at the adjacent table said with a chuckle, "How can you say that? Everything in this world has a price. They've clearly paid the most expensive price of all."
The bearded man curled his lip. "A price? I sure don't see it."
The drunk let out a long beer burp and pointed at the beer mug on the table.
"The price—is this: the right to drink at eight in the morning, and the right to go to sleep whenever the hell you want."
The people around them paused for a second before bursting into laughter.
The bearded man laughed the hardest of all, beer foam spattering onto his beard.
"We ought to send this bastard over there! He'd definitely kick his booze habit!"
Hearing the ribbing joke, the drunk hugged his beer mug tight and bellowed, "Dream on! You can kill me, but don't even think about making me give this up!"
Another round of laughter erupted.
"I'll vouch for that! This guy definitely means it!"
"After all, that's how he scared his wife off!"
"Hahaha!"
These were all workers coming off the night shift.
Lately, business in the industrial zone had been booming, and factory orders were increasing daily, boosting the tavern's trade and beer sales along with it.
Boulder City was currently operating under Alliance law, and with the city master also serving as head of the Workers' Association, the eight-hour workday was strictly enforced. To keep assembly lines running around the clock, factory owners had no choice but to hire more workers.
Originally, one adult and one child taking shifts could keep an assembly line running twenty-four hours, but now those bosses had to pay the wages of three adults.
At first, the new rule had terrified those fellows so badly that they almost abandoned their factories. In the end, though, they caught the scent of silver coins and came slinking back.
As it turned out, drinking a couple fewer bottles of red wine wouldn't actually kill those bosses, and now all residents of Boulder City could afford a malty, fragrant beer.
Watching the boisterous roughnecks laughing, a cultured-looking citizen shook his head at his newspaper and sighed.
"...You people have zero sense of crisis. Think carefully about what month it is."
A tipsy worker grinned at him. "February! I'm not drunk, so what?"
"The Tide! You've all forgotten the Tide!" the citizen muttered in complaint. "I really hope Lovett remembers we still have that massive problem hanging over us, instead of just daydreaming about those rail orders worth hundreds of millions of silver coins."
The Workers' Association had indeed done some good deeds recently, but he always worried those folks were leaning too radical.
He wasn't opposed to aligning with the Alliance—it was good for Boulder City's economy—but weren't they paying a little too much attention to other people's interests?
At least during these special times, he felt a more conservative stance would be wiser.
The bearded man actually shared some of his concerns, but had no patience for his cowardice.
"The Tide? What's there to worry about with that thing? The Tide comes every year, and every year we get through it just the same."
The cultured citizen glanced at him. "This year is different from the past. We tore down the inner city; we have to rely on ourselves for everything now."
The bearded man laughed heartily. "Friend, you sure know how to joke. Which year didn't we rely on ourselves? Besides buffing their stored power armor until it shines, when did those cowards ever charge out ahead of us?"
Another worker from the cannery chimed in, shouting, "That's right! And we're united now. All the survivors in the southern River Valley Province are united. No matter what, fewer people will die this year than last!"
Looked at this way, aligning with the Alliance had its perks.
The wasteland was fraught with peril, equally dangerous everywhere. Whether residents of Boulder City or Singularity City, all were suffering survivors on this wasteland. The more people united, the safer they were; looking down on one another would only delight the circling jackals.
Looking down at the newspaper in his hands, the bearded man felt a wave of relief.
Being proactive about southern affairs wasn't such a bad thing after all.
Seeing these men without a shred of urgency, the cultured citizen let out a sigh. "But this year is different from past years! It's a warm winter! Don't you feel it at all? Look at the weather outside the window. The snow in Boulder City has never stopped this early."
That remark truly struck a chord.
They were indeed more united than ever, but the hardships they faced this year were unlike anything before.
The patrons in the tavern exchanged glances, at a loss for words, and the atmosphere cooled into quietude.
Just then, a voice drifted over from the bar counter, breaking the silence.
"The Heart of Steel has already returned from the south. I don't think you need to worry yourselves sick like this."
Noticing the cooled mood in the tavern, the bartender, who had been silently wiping glasses behind the counter, continued in a teasing tone, "I heard our esteemed Manager took down a ten-meter-tall giant with nothing but a hammer. Have any of you ever seen a mutant taller than that?"
Ten-meter-tall slime mold fruiting bodies actually did exist, and quite a few at that, but none of the people present had ever ventured into the city center, so naturally none had seen one.
Collective gasps filled the room.
"A ten-meter-tall giant?!"
"For real...?"
"Doesn't that make him... even stronger than Boer?!"
"Wait, I think I heard about that... Survivor Daily ran an issue on it! That creature had wings, supposedly a mutant modified by Torch. It flew onto the Heart of Steel with over ten thousand of its spawn, only for the Manager to glare at it once, and it dropped to its knees on the deck right then and there!"
"Hiss..."
"Bullshit! How could a mutant like that even exist?!"
"I'll ask Sberg later; he's seen the Manager!"
Watching the rowdy drunks, White Shark curled his lips in a pleasant smirk.
Watching brainless folk spread tall tales was one of life's little amusements.
Besides, he moonlighted as an information broker and an informant for the Guards Corps.
Only by putting wind in the sails of rumor did business come knocking.
Lately, wastelanders from the north had been gathering intel on the Manager, especially regarding his activities in the south.
The Bugra Free State seemed increasingly interested in this neighbor called the Alliance.
Some were reporters from up north, while others were scouts from the Flint Group.
He usually collected pay from both ends.
With the tacit approval of the Guards Corps, he used his network of connections to feed those nosy snoops watered-down "insider info," while handing over clues about their movements to the Guards Corps.
The whole tavern grew lively again, though the topic shifted from the south and the Tide to the Manager and mutants.
Compared to clever brains, most people here worshipped raw power.
And so, at a time and place Chu Guang knew nothing about, his popularity surged yet another notch...
The man sitting before the bar had remained quiet the whole time, oblivious to the boisterous clamor around him, checking his watch from time to time.
His attire was undeniably far more glamorous than that of the patrons around him. His watch was an import from the Camel Hump Kingdom, its dial set with blood diamonds, and his leather shoes were crafted from Deathclaw hide.
Clearly, he was a merchant, and a wealthy one at that.
Pulling his gaze back from the lively tavern, White Shark glanced at him from behind the bar and murmured, "No need to worry. Your daughter is fine... I've already confirmed it through my channels."
Missions handled by Vault 404 personnel rarely went uncompleted.
They placed greater value on missions than on their own lives, especially those aligning with their values—
Such as rescuing an innocent girl from an evil lord.
Other mercenaries might weigh the mission's difficulty and payoff and sell out the employer and his family, but the Blue Jackets rarely did such a thing.
"Thank you."
Yang Shu took a deep breath, took a sip of iced lemonade, and remained silent for a moment before speaking. "I suppose... I just don't know how to face her."
"She's your own flesh and blood. What's there to be afraid of facing?" White Shark asked softly.
Yang Shu gave a bitter smile.
It was precisely because she was his own flesh and blood that he felt guilty. He had made her shoulder far too much that she never should have carried, all for the sake of his own ambition.
He knew full well in his heart that he had fathered her just to put Zhao Tiangan's mind at ease, and had even prepared himself for the ruin of his family before she was born.
Yet at the moment she was born, the instant he truly became a father, the ice flowing in his veins melted despite himself...
She had ultimately become his weakness, and that was what tormented him most.
A hundred thousand silver coins was the stake he had laid upon the gambling table, and he had prepared himself for either outcome, win or lose.
Now he had won the gamble, and Xiao Yang was alive.
Yet there was not a trace of excitement or joy in his heart—only profound guilt and lingering dread.
Just then, the wind chimes at the door rang.
He instinctively turned his head. Seeing the figure standing in the doorway, a tremor of excitement showed in his eyes.
Xiao Yang looked at her father, but hid slightly behind Luo Yu as if shy of strangers.
Luo Yu gently patted her hand, looked toward the employer seated at the counter, and gave a breezy smile. "I've brought your daughter back. Quite a lot went down along the way, tired me half to death."
"Thank you..."
Yang Shu's Adam's apple bobbed as he looked at Luo Yu standing alone.
He had originally wanted to say so much, which was why he had specially arranged to meet his benefactor, but seeing him now left him tongue-tied.
Seeing Yang Shu hesitate, Luo Yu had no idea the man was grieving for Yu's fruiting bodies. If he did, he would have comforted him by saying they were just like mushrooms and would sprout back in a few days.
Sensing the gratitude, Luo Yu laughed heartily.
"Don't mention it. I took this job as a mercenary, after all; getting paid to deliver is only right. Besides, your daughter actually helped us out quite a bit too."
He heard that the Alliance's Biological Research Institute had used the antibodies in her blood to develop a drug capable of inhibiting the hyphae's growth.
This would help survivors around Jinhe City break free from the Na fruit's influence much faster.
Luo Yu was quite pleased with this outcome.
Originally, Frost had planned to keep a Na fruit plantation to help locals wean off slowly and prevent collective withdrawals, but with an effective inhibitor available now, keeping that plantation was naturally no longer necessary.
Yang Shu looked somewhat self-consciously toward White Shark, who nodded with a smile.
"The moment this mercenary gentleman stepped through the door, the final payment was transferred to him. Or did you want to buy him a drink?"
Yang Shu looked earnestly at Luo Yu. "May I buy you a drink?"
Hearing this, Luo Yu waved his hands frantically with a laugh. "No, no need! Who drinks alcohol first thing in the morning? I've got a mission coming up soon anyway. Besides, it's a family reunion; no need for an outsider like me to intrude. The air in here isn't great either—why don't you take her outside for a walk?"
Yang Shu nodded gratefully. "Thank you..."
Luo Yu scratched the back of his head helplessly. "I already said no need for thanks."
Still, thinking that his efforts had reunited a family gave him quite a sense of accomplishment.
As for the rest...
That was between the two of them.
...
Official Website Forum.
A new announcement was posted on the front page.
['Operation Firebreak' has come to a successful conclusion. Event rewards have been distributed to all player accounts; please check your inboxes.]
[A new threat is emerging. Signs of the Tide in Qingquan City have begun to surface. The ripples of the Three-Year War never ended; this will be a continuation from two centuries ago—]
[The new event will officially kick off in the spring. For more details, please stay tuned to official announcements!]
The standout performers across the event were undoubtedly the muscleheads of the Jungle Corps, followed closely by the Skeleton Corps' Chimera armored vehicles.
Those violent, aesthetic war machines had perfectly hit the sweet spot for players and armchair fans alike.
Everyone was eagerly looking forward to the spring's new event: the annual Tide.
In all of Qingquan City, Vault 404's players were probably the only ones this optimistic.
Far from fearing the post-warm-winter Tide, they were hoping it would hit even harder.
The broodmothers preparing to leave their nests had no idea that to certain Blue Jackets, their terrifying existence was viewed as nothing more than loot-dropping festive beasts.
The forum was brimming with merriment.
Aside from showing off rewards from the last event and predicting the content of the next, the trolls and banter hounds focused squarely on brother Ye Shi.
Ye Shi was distressed to discover that whenever he posted on the forum now, no matter what he said, the thread instantly derailed.
Makabazi: "Hahahaha, isn't this Ye Shi? Bro, where's your 'little bro'?"
Tail: "Could it be that she was too shy? Tail thinks you should drop a hint. (///ω///)"
Elaina: "Terrifyingly powerful. Who knew Miss Tengteng possessed the power to make reality bend to her words? (Funny)"
Tengteng: "?"
In Debt God: "You're all doing Brother Ye Shi dirty. Could it be he just hasn't found it yet? (Funny)"
Ye Shi: "Get lost! Fuck off! I'm rerolling right now!"
Roller Hair Washer: "Don't, bro! Your gear is so badass, it'd be such a waste to reroll. (Funny)"
That comment truly hit the nail on the head.
Rerolling wasn't hard at all, especially for veteran players used to dying and restarting.
The crux was that he couldn't bear to let it go.
Even though he was missing one tool of the trade, that electrical discharge ability was ridiculously strong!
Without exaggeration, it was even more potent than Brother Spring's shielded Blastoise suit.
His hands could do far more than just shock people numb—he could pick up any conductor and launch it like a railgun.
Yes.
Even silver coins worked.
If he emptied all the silver coins out of his VM, he could literally crush people to death with money.
Moreover, the electrical arc fired directly from his energy-storage capacitor could theoretically punch straight through deflector shields!
The most outrageous part was that even though most of his body parts had been replaced, his Perception hadn't weakened in the slightest, nor had his experience gains taken much of a hit.
Fang Chang's hypothesis was that Perception differed from Agility; it didn't enhance the optic or olfactory nerves, but rather enhanced the brain's processing capacity for incoming signals.
In other words, Perception-type was similar to Intelligence-type: as long as the brain wasn't modified, or only underwent limited alterations, experience gains wouldn't be heavily impacted.
Because the build was so absurdly overpowered, Gale had even wanted to swap heads with him.
Without a second's hesitation, Ye Shi had rejected him flat out.
Mole on the Run from the Canyon: "Going by standard RPG tropes, hidden features require affection points to unlock. Why not try raising your affection with the sugar mommy? Maybe she'll install it on her own initiative? (Funny)"
Ye Shi: "Holy shit, for real?!"
Mole on the Run from the Canyon: "How the hell should I know? Try it yourself and find out. (Funny)"
In truth, Ideal City offered an even richer, flashier assortment of bionic parts.
The only uncertainty was whether they'd be compatible with cybernetics made by the Academy.
Still, he felt those were minor matters.
In Wasteland Online, a life was refreshed once every three days; worrying about this was thinking too small.
If he ever really needed one in a pinch...
Never mind installing just one—installing a few wouldn't be a problem at all.
Chapter 616