At the boundary where the Southern Sea met the Baiyue Strait.
Rolling waves rustled softly across the water. As far as the eye could see, vast azure ripples stretched out under the open sky—a picture of utter peace and serenity.
Yet every survivor living in these parts knew all too well that violent undercurrents churned beneath that idyllic surface.
To the northeast, a plague ravaged Haiya Province, while the Southern Sea due east knew no peace either.
The war between the Southern Archipelago Federation and Shelter 70 had dragged on for over two months.
The Federation's underwater forces had seized Shelter 70's seabed settlement and locked down its main entrance.
Yet Shelter 70 was, after all, a permanent bunker engineered to withstand a direct nuclear strike. Not even the crash of the Tianting space station had cracked it open, let alone the Southern Archipelago Federation, which still relied on picric acid to make naval mines.
Up against such a turtle-shell fortress, the Federation Navy was utterly helpless, left with no choice but to blockade the entryways.
Even so, having lost control of their main access points, the residents of Shelter 70 had by no means thrown in the towel. Armed with advanced diving apparatus, they waged maritime guerrilla warfare against the Federation, lurking for chances to raid fishing vessels, freighters, patrol boats, and even offshore mining platforms—plundering supplies while wearing down the Federation's naval power.
The two sides had been locked in a stalemate for a full month, neither able to break the other, and by all appearances, the standoff would drag on for some time to come...
As usual, a Federation patrol speedboat sailed near the eastern mouth of the Baiyue Strait, scanning for Shelter 70 submersibles to stop them from resupplying at survivor settlements and harbors along the coast of Poluo Province.
Muda stood at the bow with an assault rifle slung across his back. He raised his binoculars and swept his gaze westward. Finding no trace of any vessels, he waved to the helmsman inside the cabin.
"Push a bit further ahead!"
"You got it!" the bare-armed helmsman called back, shifting smoothly into forward gear.
Feeling the warm ocean wind on his face, Muda cast his eyes toward the dense rainforest hugging the shore, squinting slightly.
He had heard that two centuries ago, that place had been a jungle of steel. Lines of hundred-meter freighters had berthed alongside concrete quays, while dense grids of shipping containers covered the docks, stretching endlessly beside towering rows of gantry cranes.
It was not entirely hearsay either.
He had seen that very sight on pre-war posters and pamphlets.
He simply had trouble believing it was real.
If that era had truly been so magnificent, why had their forebears fled the mainland to live on an isolated island?
What was wrong with staying right there?
Just then, a crewmate's voice crackled over the radio.
"Contact due north!"
*Due north?*
Muda blinked. He was looking due north at that very moment, and there was nothing out there except thick jungle and crumbling concrete rubble.
Right then, a shadow fell over the dense canopy. Instinctively glancing upward, his pupils constricted in shock.
A colossal behemoth broke through the clouds, descending rapidly. Its hull matched the pale gray of the wispy cloud cover, yet against the vast blue sky, it stood out jarringly.
"...An airship?!"
Before the sailors aboard the speedboat could process their shock, a string of black dots dropped from the craft, snapping open parachutes in midair.
The moment he made out what was dangling beneath the chutes, Muda's face fell. Grabbing the radio, he bellowed into the channel:
"Steer clear of the shore!"
His instincts proved spot-on.
Just as the two speedboats swung away from the coastline, the parachutes brushed the tree line and erupted into dazzling balls of fire.
Cascades of descending flame poured down like a sudden rain of fire, transforming the coastal rainforest into a roaring inferno.
Mutant apes with jutting fangs shrieked as they scrambled deep into the jungle, while mutant lizards and crocodiles lurking by ruined drainage pipes let out shrill cries before being consumed by the blaze and reduced to ash.
The flames roared on...
Buffeted by the scorching gusts sweeping off the shore, the Federation sailors aboard the speedboats watched dumbfounded as the scene unfolded in the span of a breath.
In less than fifteen minutes, an open swath strewn with charcoal and charred timber had been scorched out of the lush coastline.
"Were those incendiaries?"
"What just happened...?"
Muda stared blankly at the shore, entirely unsure how to respond.
Standing atop the cabin roof, the gunner tensely raised his heavy machine gun behind its welded gun shield, tracking the sky, though he lacked even an ounce of confidence that it could scratch the airship.
Meanwhile, the captain of the other speedboat spoke up over the comms.
"Damn it... What's their deal?! The Church?"
Muda swallowed hard.
"Doesn't look like it..."
Just as the words left his mouth, another trail of parachutes descended, plummeting at even higher speed toward the smoldering beach.
This time, there was no explosion.
The dark silhouettes slammed directly into the blackened shoreline, kicking up clouds of dust.
Muda raised his binoculars toward the beach, and the scene that greeted his eyes burned itself into his memory forever.
One pitch-black exoskeleton after another strode out from the dust.
Cold steel and polymer armor encased every inch of their bodies. Streamlined assault rifles were gripped firmly in their hands, while jet-black visors concealed every trace of their expressions.
Muda had never seen ground combat gear of such exceptional caliber. He could not help but wonder who these people were and what brought them here.
Even as he stared at the group on shore, the figures on land noticed the patrol boats idling out on the water.
Raising a fist to signal his squad to stay alert, Killing Dagger stepped to the water's edge and tapped his index finger against his helmet.
"Unidentified NPCs spotted out at sea. Requesting instructions."
After a brief pause, Brother Fang Chang's voice came through the channel.
"...We didn't accidentally hit them just now, did we?"
Killing Dagger raised a pair of binoculars toward the water and chuckled.
"Doesn't look like it, but they look pretty rattled. The machine guns on both speedboats are aimed right at you guys."
Popguns under 20mm taking down their airship was nothing short of a daydream. Because of that, he gave the threat no weight at all.
Standing on the airship's bridge, Fang Chang had naturally noticed the boats as well, though he saw no need to make a fuss.
"Understood. Leave them be and carry on with the mission."
"Roger that."
Tapping the side of his helmet, Killing Dagger cut the connection.
Casting one last glance at the two speedboats, he pulled his eyes away and waved for his squad to press on toward the tree line...
***
The thirty players deployed as the vanguard along the beach were all brothers from the Burning Corps.
Their mission was to use the airdropped incendiaries as cover to establish a temporary beachhead, keeping nearby mutants suppressed while ensuring the airship's supplies and machinery could be safely deployed.
Once he confirmed the landing perimeter was secure, squad leader Killing Dagger relayed the ground status to Fang Chang.
The airship stabilized and dropped ropes and cargo pods. Soon, wave after wave of players lugging bulky packs arrived on the surface alongside construction crates.
Compared to the exoskeleton-clad regulars of the Burning Corps, this new crowd brought a completely different energy.
Their noisy chatter made them look less like wasteland survivors and far more like a flock of free-range ducks or a rowdy tour group.
"The ocean!"
"Trash dev is a god!"
"Hahahaha! I'm seeing the ocean in a game!" one player yelled, sprinting down to the surf like an overjoyed, two-hundred-pound kid.
Another dove headfirst into the water, evidently trying to verify whether the sea was just a flat texture or actual interactive physics.
Naturally, it did not disappoint.
The beaches in *Wasteland OL* were as realistic as the real world—aside from crabs capable of ripping your nose clean off and all manner of freakish mutants.
Less than an hour after the first wave landed, the first casualty occurred: an Intelligence-type player was caught by a mutant sea snake thick as a calf, which coiled around his ankle and dragged him straight beneath the waves.
Yet this did nothing to dampen the players' enthusiasm for the new map.
Clutching a nose missing a chunk of meat, a player with under three months in the game hollered with pure excitement:
"Holy crap! Look at the lighting! Look at this water! This is insane!"
Watching the raucous beach and the rookies brawling with stray mutants, Elven King Fugui sighed with deep nostalgia.
"Sometimes I really envy these newbies. At this point, new maps barely surprise me anymore."
Strictly speaking, anyone who had reached Genetic Sequence LV10 could hardly be called a beginner.
Yet compared to the veterans who had been roaming the wasteland since the Alpha test, these players whose novelty hadn't worn off were practically toddlers.
Elaina shot Brother Fugui a droll look.
"That just means you've almost adapted to this brutal wasteland."
"Haha, maybe so!"
Elven King Fugui unclipped the mechanical compound bow from the side of his pack with a laugh, turning his gaze toward the smoldering rainforest.
"Let's move. Time for us to set out too."
"OK."
Seeing that Brother Fugui was geared up, Elaina deftly chambered a round into his assault rifle and added with a grin, "Let's start with the quest to find a water source. We can gather some dinner ingredients on the way."
Hearing Old Na's parting words, Brother Fugui—previously riding high on morale—shivered involuntarily and began praying silently.
*Please let us not run into anything weird...*
***
Once the initial thrill of unlocking a new map subsided, the players gradually settled down and threw themselves into base construction.
Some cleared away dead branches and charcoal, some sorted daily supplies and building materials unloaded from the airship, while others pitched tents and erected rudimentary defenses.
None of this labor was for nothing, of course. Every chore was tied to a quest that rewarded silver coins upon completion.
It was just like when the Outpost by Ling Lake had first been founded.
The only difference was that the players who had once earned silver coins from the Administrator were now the ones drafting quests and handing out rewards to others.
Aside from life-profession players, the combat specialists had plenty on their plates as well.
Shortly after the airship moored, the Niuma Group posted an exploration quest to locate water sources: finding a safe, reliable freshwater supply paid anywhere from 50 to 1,000 silver coins.
Nor was it limited to water—scouting dangerous mutant nests carried bounties too.
And if a nest could be wiped out entirely, the payout started in four digits!
Just as the posters at the Dawn City airship station ticket booth had promised: opportunities were everywhere! Silver coins everywhere!
As long as you put in honest work, making back your ticket fare was guaranteed!
While the players ashore bustled about in full swing, the Federation sailors aboard the two speedboats were utterly dumbfounded.
Especially Muda, the patrol squad leader.
This string of baffling antics left him entirely unable to fathom what these people were trying to achieve.
After a moment's contemplation, he barked an order over the radio.
"Boat One, head back to Ring Island port and report the situation to the harbor master... Tell them an airship has arrived at the eastern mouth of the Baiyue Strait and roughly two to three hundred people came down from it. We can't determine their identity or motives."
A prompt reply came over the channel.
"Understood!"
Pausing, Muda continued his orders.
"Boat Two, pull in close with me."
The helmsman inside the cabin answered, "Yes, sir!"
The two speedboats parted ways. One sped off eastward, while the other drifted into the shallows near the shore, where three men disembarked.
The players along the beach quickly took note of them, casting curious glances toward the three NPCs.
Having received word from Fang Chang, Killing Dagger, clad in pitch-black exoskeleton armor, took a squadmate with him and walked over to meet the trio.
"Who are you guys?"
Watching the soldier approach, Muda answered guardedly, "Federation. And you?"
"Alliance!" Killing Dagger flipped open his visor, grinning broadly. "Our names sound pretty similar, huh?"
At the word "Alliance," Muda paused.
He had heard the name from Silver Moon Bay merchants—supposedly a survivor faction rising in the southern reaches of River Valley Province, easily two to three thousand kilometers away.
What were they doing all the way out here?
While he was still scratching his head, Killing Dagger smiled and went on.
"By the way, we'll be hanging around here for a while. Shouldn't bother you guys, right?"
The two sailors behind Muda exchanged bewildered glances.
*Hang around this godforsaken place?*
*Are these guys nuts?*
Just like his two subordinates, Muda was rendered completely speechless by the soldier's casual response. He stood silent for a long moment.
Baiyue Province was unclaimed territory, and this beach was no different. While Federation speedboats patrolled these waters regularly, this was not Federation land, and island residents rarely ventured near such a perilous shore.
At the very least, he had never heard of any Federation plan to build new installations on the mainland.
Glancing at the weapons in their hands, Muda said slowly, "I have no objections. You can stay as long as you like, so long as you don't interfere with our duties... But don't say I didn't warn you. The mutants here are extremely dangerous. Even if your gear looks decent, pitching camp here is a terrible idea."
Killing Dagger's face broke into a bright grin once more.
"Awesome! Hope we get along! Oh right, where's your settlement? Or where's the nearest port? If it's convenient, we'd love to trade some supplies with you guys."
With an odd look, Muda raised an arm and pointed toward the Southern Sea.
"Over that way..."
"That way?" Killing Dagger peered with interest in the direction he indicated. "Where? I don't see anything."
"...Of course you can't see it from here. It's about a hundred nautical miles to the southeast," Muda said, eyeing this seemingly dim-witted soldier in disbelief.
Killing Dagger chuckled sheepishly. "Well, that really is quite far."
"You're welcome to come trade at our port. If you hunt any wild game, you can sell it to us. But don't even think about flying that thing over there—not if you don't want trouble."
Not wanting to spend another second in this dangerous place, Muda pointed up at the airship drifting overhead, delivered the warning, and brought the brief exchange to a curt close.
"That's all I have to say. We're leaving. Have fun playing around here... Hope I still see you in a few days."
"You definitely will!"
Taking the parting remark as a friendly well-wish, Killing Dagger laughed heartily and waved at the three NPCs as they climbed back aboard the boat.
"Safe travels! Come visit anytime!"
Watching the man waving farewell from the shore, Muda let out a dry scoff.
*Let's see if you can still smile in a few days...*
Chapter 665