Help Me, for the Sake of Us Both Being Shelter Residents!

As the sunset sank into the ocean, the night cloaking the harbor of Ring Island was perfectly serene. Yet two hundred nautical miles away, Port French Fries was bustling with chaos. Muzzle flashes and fires flickered through the forest as explosions and gunfire erupted in relentless waves. The comms channel was inundated with frantic shouts, punctuated by the shrieks and dying howls of mutants. The remote weapon station mounted atop the "Husky" tracked vehicle fired in sweeping bursts, pouring 20mm rounds into the pitch-black jungle. The grenade launcher mounted at its side thudded at steady intervals, bursting into plumes of flame and churning smoke amidst the trees. The ones under siege were the scientific expedition convoy that had ventured deep into the ruins of Shalong City. Half an hour earlier, they had reached the ruins of a signal receiving station, aiming to recover the coordinates and identification codes of an astronomical observation satellite stored on the local server's hard drives. If they could re-establish a link to the satellite, they could retrieve the access logs and historical IP addresses preserved in its storage banks, thereby illuminating a vast swathe of high-value exploration targets across the regional map. For the archaeological excavation of the entire city's ruins, this receiving station was the key that unlocked the first door to the labyrinth. Yet to everyone's utter surprise, after the Jungle Corps vanguard squad breached the station, what awaited them was a colossal nest of mutant ants! In truth, an ominous premonition had already struck the team the moment they spotted the one-meter-wide tunnel. And when they finally entered the server room, that bad feeling rapidly materialized into a waking nightmare. Dark green mutant aphids crammed the passages so densely that there was hardly any foothold; the mutant ants had turned the complex into a ranch for breeding aphids! A knee-high mutant soldier ant quickly detected them, and a vicious melee broke out within the narrow corridors. Three players risked their lives charging into the data room packed with slimy insects. Guided by the HUD prompts on their exoskeleton helmets, they pried open the chitin-encrusted chassis and ripped out the motherboard plugged with the hard drives. Of the ten vanguard players who had ventured into the ruins, only five made it out alive, and of the four other survivors, one had lost an arm. With their colony's ranch ransacked, the infuriated ant swarm surged from the nest like a black tidal wave, lunging at the group clustered around the tracked vehicle. These bugs were vastly stronger than the little critters back in Shelter 100. Especially the soldier ants. Not only did they possess sickle-thick, razor-sharp mandibles, but they also possessed vitality that allowed them to take multiple gunshots without going down, as well as jaw strength that could snap a tree trunk in half with a single bite. Under the queen's command, they clambered over the corpses of their fallen kin, charging wave upon wave toward the tracked vehicle. Even with the Alliance's ferocious firepower, their sheer numbers were absurd, seemingly limitless. "Goddammit! These things are way wilder than the green-skins back in Jinchuan Province!" His ears ringing from the nonstop gunfire, Crawling Model Worker bellowed at the top of his lungs, keeping his nerves taut as he suppressed the recoil of his chattering light machine gun. "Reloading! Cover me!" Forcing down his glowing red barrel, Piltover Paratrooper knocked loose his empty drum magazine, grabbed a fresh one from his back, and slammed it into place. Just then, an RPG trailing white smoke shot right over his head, spattering his face with flying sparks and thick fumes. "Fuck! You fucking—" Before his coughing curses could finish, the rocket slammed into a tree trunk barely twenty meters away. The instantly detonating thermobaric warhead unleashed a tempest of flames and white smoke, shaking the surrounding thickets violently. Over a dozen mutant ants were knocked to the ground by the searing blast wave, screeching in agony as if struck by a giant sledgehammer. The players earned a fleeting moment of respite. Yet before they could catch their breath, the tidal swarm surged forward once more. "There are too many of them!" Freeing an index finger to press his helmet comms, a player yelled across the channel. Just as the line was on the verge of collapsing, the long-awaited retreat order finally sounded over the radio. "...Hard drives secured. All squads, fall back along planned routes!" "Copy that!" Lowering his machine gun, Crawling Model Worker folded its bipod and took heavy strides through the spongy grass and underbrush, retreating toward the tracked vehicle. The players alternated suppressive fire in three-man fireteams, shooting as they withdrew until they finally reached the Husky. The vehicle, towering like a bulldozer, had already turned around, pulling back along the path it had arrived by under the covering fire of four ten-man squads. Surveying the wreckage strewn across the ground, one player wore a look of reluctance, reaching down to grab some crafting material to take back for appraisal. In doing so, he was nearly sheared at the arm by a mutant ant that had not yet breathed its last. Fortunately, a nearby squad leader saw this and immediately emptied a burst into the dying bug, snatching the reckless fool back from death's doorstep. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Glaring at the idiot clutching the corpse of a mutant ant, the squad leader barked, "What kind of time is it to be looting corpses?!" The player grinned sheepishly and scratched his helmet. "I just wanted to bring one back to study..." Too exhausted to waste breath on him, the squad leader shoved his shoulder toward the tracked vehicle and urged him onward. "Hurry up! Toss it in the back, we're leaving!" The Alliance had deployed no aircraft in this sector, leaving them without aerial support. Fortunately, brothers from the Burning Corps had set up a temporary artillery battery near camp during the day, and the support weaponry shipped from Dawn City included 155mm howitzers. Using the vehicle's radio, Midnight Chicken Slayer quickly made contact with friendly forces to the rear and reported their situation. "This is the Jungle Corps. We are surrounded and under attack by dense ant swarms, coordinates 1091, 1222... Requesting fire support extending north!" Static hissed through the headset before an allied voice responded. "Copy that! 155 battery in position. Give us one minute!" "Hurry the hell up!!" Bellowing into the channel, Midnight Chicken Slayer cut the transmission, raised the chainsaw welded to his prosthetic left arm, and swung it into a mutant ant pouncing from the flank. Accompanied by a screeching grind, yellow-ochre ichor and severed carapace sprayed through the air under the chainsaw's violent bite, cleaving a waist-high mutant soldier ant cleanly in two! Without breaking stride, he spotted another soldier ant snapping toward him from the side. Midnight Chicken Slayer raised the bolter barrel welded to his right arm and unleashed a blast. A thick tongue of fire erupted as the 19mm explosive slug slammed square into the creature's forehead, riddling its massive head and mouthparts into a sieve. Standing amidst the swarm like a god of slaughter, his sweeping strikes had already claimed countless kills. Seeing his squads engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the mutants, he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Hold the line! Fire support is inbound!" Rallied by his roar, the burly men of the Jungle Corps unleashed the same ferocity they had once shown against mutants, drawing entrenching shovels and felling axes from their exoskeletons to clash head-on with the closing soldier ants. A Strength-type player tossed aside a broken felling axe, scooped up a cobblestone from the ground, and pounded the mutant ant pinning him into paste through sheer brute strength. Another rookie who had joined the corps not long ago was even more ferocious: after both his legs were snipped off by a mutant ant's mandibles, he directly grabbed half his severed lower leg—still clinging with sinew and flesh—and battered the creature with frenzied strikes, smashing in half the skull of a waist-high ant. The battle had finally entered the chaotic melee that the Jungle Corps excelled at. Spurred on by the smell of blood, everyone's vision turned crimson. For a moment, it was impossible to tell who was human and who was beast. "Madness! Pure madness!" Crawling Model Worker howled as he discarded his empty machine gun, drew a brush hook, and charged in, hacking away like he was mincing meat. In just one minute, total casualties across the fifty-man force approached thirty percent! Though the ant swarm suffered catastrophic losses as well, these were insects that knew no fear of death, nor did the word 'retreat' exist in their vocabulary. Just as the players' situation teetered on the brink, the artillery strike Midnight Chicken Slayer had requested a minute earlier finally arrived. Almost down to the second. Streaks of light soared into the sky amidst thunderous booms, only to rain down moments later onto the dense jungle ahead of the Jungle Corps. Plumes of bursting fire and smoke bloomed like man-eating blossoms in the rainforest. The thrashing mutant ants were mowed down in swathes like wheat, torn to shreds by high-explosive shrapnel and scorching shockwaves. The first barrage was merely the prelude. Before the surviving ants could recover, a second barrage followed closely behind. The roaring artillery fire crept forward five hundred meters due north, leaving the rainforest thoroughly devastated. Splintered branches and vines littered the earth, and charred mud was blasted from the ground all the way into the canopy. "Woohoo!" "Beautifully done!" After finishing off the few mutant ants that had miraculously survived, the players lowered their ichor-stained axes and glowing-hot gun barrels, letting out relieved cheers of survival. The researchers inside the tracked vehicle breathed sighs of relief as well. Aside from Meng Liang, who had accompanied Chu Guang onto the battlefield before, most of the scientists here were approaching the front lines for the very first time. Listening to the spent shells clattering against the vehicle's roof, many had felt their hearts leap into their throats. Wiping the sweat from his face, Meng Liang adopted a nonchalant expression as he looked back at his subordinates, forcing a comforting smile. "See? What did I tell you... It's really not that scary." As he spoke, he gave his legs a smug bounce to disguise how weak his knees felt. The researchers looked at Brother Meng with newfound admiration, thinking to themselves that he was indeed a man of the world who had accompanied the Administrator. What they did not know was that while this fellow had indeed accompanied the Administrator to the front lines, that "front line" had been strictly confined to the bridge of an airship. This was his first time seeing bullets and shells flying right in front of him too. It would have been unnatural if he weren't terrified. Outside, the fighting had concluded. Devastated by the 155mm bombardment, the ant swarm had completely ceased its aggression. Across this night-shrouded rainforest, maimed ants unable to stand flopped about on their remaining legs amidst the acrid reek of cordite. Seeming to realize that pursuing their prey was no longer possible, smaller worker ants began trickling from the nest, dragging injured soldier ants back inside. Yet by now, they had become prime quarry in the eyes of other predators in the forest. Numerous mutants catching the scent of food recognized an opportunity for a feast, eyeing the area hungrily from the shadows. Clearly, the cruelty of this rainforest was not reserved solely for outsiders; the unsparing law of the jungle treated every creature that stepped upon this soil with equal indifference. For the ant colony occupying the underground expanse beneath the receiving station ruins, tonight promised to be long and agonizing. Though to the players who had stumbled in by accident, none of that mattered anymore... "Damn... I actually lived." Pushing aside a severed torso pinning him down, Crawling Model Worker shook his groggy head vigorously and climbed up from the ground. Retrieving his discarded machine gun, he limped toward the rear with a teammate's support, following the tracks of the armored vehicle away from the battlefield. After advancing two kilometers southwest, each squad took roll and tallied casualties. Counting the unfortunates who had mercy-killed themselves after suffering mortal wounds, a total of twenty players had died in the operation, and most of the remaining thirty bore injuries. The battle could only be described as brutal. Yet the payoff was equally staggering. The data on the hard drives was largely intact. All that remained was for the expedition and the experts at Camp 101 to decipher the contents and retrieve the information from the satellite tens of thousands of kilometers away in orbit. That would not take long. Once complete, they would be able to synchronize all research facilities within dozens of kilometers linked to that satellite onto their map. ... Deep night descended, shrouding the rainforest in darkness. Along the quiet coastline, only scattered campfires and dappled moonlight rippling across the surf remained. Stepping along the perimeter of the campfires, the bruised and battered men of the Jungle Corps, having spent the entire day fighting in the woods, made their way back arm-in-arm to Port French Fries by the shore. Their exoskeletons were covered in scratches, dents, and mutant saliva and blood; a few battered frames were missing their owners entirely. Seeing these scarred warriors and the intact tracked vehicle, the expedition researchers organizing samples near the settlement's entrance cast startled glances their way, their eyes soon welling with moved appreciation. Thanks to these admirable men, they could focus on the work they excelled at without worrying about the ever-present threat of death. Death had never left the wasteland; it had always lingered beside them. It was simply that someone else was bearing it in their stead... Stirred by the solemn atmosphere, several researchers near the reclamation point silently raised their right fists to their left chests, rendering an Alliance military salute toward the limping silhouettes. Truly a respectable bunch! ... At the same time, near the beach on the southern side of Port French Fries, stood the port's only tavern. It bore a unique name: the "One-Man Tavern." True to its title, the owner was the sole operator from behind the bar to inside the kitchen. Consequently, patrons often had to pour their own drinks and even wash their own cups in the adjacent basin. Most players did not mind. Even if they did, they had no other choice; this was the only tavern in the entire settlement. Even if it was just an open-air tent. The proprietor's handle was [Zuiwo Xiaoyiren], a lifestyle player who had received a helmet during the closed beta. His specialties were fried fish of all kinds and french fries. In his own words, these two dishes were foolproof for anyone with hands—or even without them—making them ideal for a clumsy cook like him whose culinary skill hovered around zero. As for the taste... Who came to a tavern to complain about the food? Drunks were too busy fighting off disconnection to care what their food tasted like. A group of players sat by the beach, sipping beer and eating fried fish and fries while exchanging intelligence gathered during their daytime expeditions. "Damn it, there's a pack of mutant lizards up on the northwestern ridge. At first glance I thought they were fucking dinosaurs! Good thing my Perception picked them up first, or I would've wiped out before earning back my airship ticket!" "You took that exploration quest?" "Yeah! The difficulty said E-rank, recommended level 10! I must've been cursed to believe that crap!" "Hahahaha!" "Your luck is something else!" "I heard you can get tasks re-evaluated if you submit combat footage. Running into three A-rank or one S-rank threat mutant qualifies you for an A-rank payout, which gives a big bump to silver coins and contribution points." "For real? I'll have to try that later!" "Speaking of which, we should call Scavenger over. This place is his home turf." "Great idea! Maybe we can even help our buddy Scavenger find a girlfriend." "Haha! Are you trying to kill me with laughter?" "By the way, what has that guy been up to lately? Haven't seen him in Dawn City." "He never came back from Jinchuan Province. Seems like he and Qiangren Suonan got addicted to playing faith healers over there." "Holy crap." "Playing faith healers, seriously?" While the crowd was chattering in astonishment, a group of Jungle Corps men who had divested themselves of their combat gear walked over boisterously. Their demeanor was a complete turnaround from when they had limped into camp. Not one of them looked like they had just lost teammates; their faces beamed with hearty, unrestrained satisfaction, resembling a team that had just won a hard-fought match. For quests issued by the scientific expedition, equipment losses were seventy percent reimbursed by the expedition. If an individual had purchased extra insurance, the compensation could reach ninety percent. They could afford to go all out; after all, someone else was footing the bill. Quest rewards were calculated comprehensively based on actual difficulty, casualty-to-yield ratio, and optional objectives completed. Encountering the ant swarm had been an unforeseen development, yet they had successfully retrieved the hard drives despite the ambush. This mission was guaranteed at least an A+ evaluation. After deducting equipment and ammunition costs outside the reimbursement cap, each survivor would easily walk away with a four-figure bonus! "Damn! Today's run was fucking intense!" "It was insanely good!" "I hope we get a few more like that!" "Haha, you had your fun, but Brother Guang's wallet is weeping!" "Who cares! Having a blast is all that matters!" Seeing Lao Bai drinking alongside several brothers from the Burning Corps, Midnight Chicken Slayer walked over with a grin and held out a fist. "Lao Bai, that artillery strike of yours was top-notch!" Grinning, Lao Bai bumped his fist. "Naturally! The guys manning those guns are all pros." Pulling up a stool to sit down, Midnight Chicken Slayer asked with a smile, "What about you guys? How was your haul today?" Before Lao Bai could answer, Prop Master, sitting nearby, chimed in with a smirk. "Not bad, pretty standard. Our main job today was playing third wheel and accompanying Ms. Chen to admire flowers." Crawling Model Worker laughed. "Hahaha, playing third wheel, nice!" "Don't listen to his nonsense. It was a proper sampling mission. Once we packed up the samples, we headed straight back." Catching the teasing, gossiping looks around him, Lao Bai coughed dryly and continued, "...We ran into a few skirmishes on the way, but nothing too heavy. We even brought back some game; it's roasting over there right now." Saying so, he gestured with his chin toward the beach nearby. There, Killing Dagger and several other players had ringed a fire pit with cobblestones, beside which lay a freshly skinned mutant leopard. The beast was noticeably larger than the ones piled on the cargo stacks during the day, likely another unique species evolved within this rainforest. Sitting on a stool nearby, Elaina swallowed hard, his eyes brimming with longing. "Damn, that looks amazing." Though the fire had barely been lit, the sight of the raw meat slathered in marinade already made the fries and fried fish on their plates look thoroughly unappealing... Seeing all eyes turn toward the roast, Lao Bai gave a hearty laugh and waved his hand generously. "Help yourselves if you want a bite! Just bring your own knife, fork, and beer!" Darting to the front of the counter, Crawling Model Worker slapped down several banknotes with a flourish. "Boss, two crates of beer! And... ten plates of fries!" "Beer's in the storeroom, fetch it yourself." Busy frying potatoes, Yiren didn't even raise his head, staring tensely at the oil vat. He watched it as if guarding live grenades with their pins pulled. "Fuck! Screw you!" Seeing his dismissive attitude, Crawling Model Worker flashed him a middle finger, but still trotted briskly into the storeroom to haul the beer. Walking to the counter to pour himself a glass of lemon water, Piltover Paratrooper teased the overwhelmed owner. "Hey brother, you really ought to hire a few waiters. Making customers fetch their own drinks and wash their own plates—I've never seen a boss as brazen as you." Yiren looked up with a wry smile. "You think I don't want to?!" There were hardly any NPCs in this camp. As for players, that was entirely out of the question. These people could easily afford the 600-silver-coin airship ticket; there was no way they would work as busboys in his shop. And the rookies willing to work entry-level jobs were mostly true beginners who hadn't even unlocked their VMs yet—forget 600 silver coins for airfare, they hadn't even met the level requirement to board an airship to a new map! Crawling Model Worker made two trips back and forth, finally dragging two crates of beer onto the beach and distributing bottles to everyone waiting for the fire to catch. Before long, Killing Dagger and Kidney Fighter finally got the bonfire roaring. Several burly Jungle Corps players stepped in to lend a hand, hoisting the mutant leopard—weighing two to three hundred kilograms—onto a makeshift spit. The group pulled their stools around the fire, drinking beer in the sea breeze while roasting meat and slicing off juicy strips. Inhaling the intoxicating aroma of sizzling game and watching the golden-brown crust form over the flames, Lao Bai narrowed his eyes in quiet contentment. Beach, beer, barbecue... This was what real adventure was about! By comparison, life in Dawn City had grown a bit too comfortable. While still engaging—both the people and the sights—it always felt like something was missing compared to the early days of the server launch. Yet upon arriving at Port French Fries, he had suddenly realized what that missing piece was. They had stepped onto this wasteland as residents of Shelter 404, sworn to end the wasteland era and restore civilization. Now, the wasteland era of Qingquan City was over. The ruined metropolis that had once teemed with death had become a training ground for novices to hone their mechanics... There were no longer quests there that could offer high-level players a truly gripping experience. While that was certainly a triumph, it still left a lingering trace of loneliness. Perhaps... A life forever on the road was what truly suited players like them. Perhaps sharing similar thoughts, Elven King Fugui gazed up at the clear night sky and the brilliant river of stars, suddenly remarking with a tinge of melancholy, "Say... If things keep developing like this, one day all the wastelands will come to an end, right? What do you plan to do when that happens?" Taking a bite of crispy, browned leg meat, Elaina replied with a silly smirk, "Why think so far ahead? Besides, isn't there still that giant pie five light-years away?" Elven King Fugui looked at him. "And what if the wasteland five light-years away gets fixed too?" "Then we go somewhere even further!" Looking up at the dazzling sea of stars, Elaina chuckled. "When that time comes, we'll buy a spaceship and go roaming to see just how big this game's map really is!" Crawling Model Worker quipped, "Maybe once you fly out there, it'll all just be skyboxes and 2D textures." Elaina laughed. "Haha! Honestly, that wouldn't surprise me!" As the group ate and joked, the french fries ordered half an hour ago were finally served. Yiren wiped his hands, intending to return to frying fish, but the partially full crowd dragged him down onto a stool to drink with them. Crawling Model Worker let out a burp, stood up, and stretched his back, when he suddenly noticed something pitch-black on the beach that looked like an oil drum. To be precise, it was an object shaped like an oil drum, roughly the height of a man and long enough for three or four people lying head to toe. "Did something just wash up on the shore?" Hearing his voice, everyone instinctively looked toward the tide line and spotted the oddly shaped contraption. Right at that moment, a curved hatch on the side of the cylinder unlatched, and a figure seemed to tumble out. He struggled up from the sand, staggering as if trying to flee the water's edge. Yet before he could find his footing, a half-man-high wave broke over him, knocking him flat onto the ground once more. Fate seemed to have played a cruel joke on him. Washed ashore alongside him was a mutant sea crab, swaying its head. The crab shook its massive carapace, preparing to scuttle back into the sea, when it suddenly spotted the figure thrashing on the beach. Its legs froze on the spot. Spotting this from afar, Lao Bai narrowed his eyes slightly and set down his beer bottle. Scenting a side quest, Killing Dagger perked up instantly, dropping his half-eaten leg of meat without hesitation. "I'll go help him!" Ignoring Kidney Fighter's protests, he wiped his greasy hands on his buddy's shirt, grabbed the assault rifle leaning nearby, and dashed forward. He fired two rounds into the sand, driving the turning sea crab back a few paces. Taking advantage of the crab's momentary hesitation, he fired to keep its attention while sprinting ahead, hauling the drenched wretch back up from the surf. A brother from the Jungle Corps expertly hoisted an absurdly oversized bolter, braced the stock against his shoulder, and squeezed the trigger. The violent recoil rocked his shoulder, but the 19mm explosive bolt that tore from the barrel struck dead center into the sea crab's skull. A jet of white-hot molten metal erupted from the back of the creature's head, dropping it soundlessly onto the sand. "Fresh haul, boys! Roast crab later!" The player chuckled, shaking out a nearly dislocated shoulder as he grabbed a fishing net and ran over. Meanwhile, the soaking-wet man was dragged back by Killing Dagger, who supported him by the shoulders. The moment Dagger let go, the man collapsed onto the ground as if his strength had been entirely drained. "Hey, take it easy." "Thank you... thank you..." Curled on the ground, the gaunt man had pale, bluish lips, shivering uncontrollably as he repeated his thanks over and over, heedless of anything said to him. His wet hair clung to his forehead, and his breathless, terrified expression made it clear he had just survived some horrifying ordeal. Facing the bewildered stares of the crowd, he seemed entirely blind to them. His glassy eyes darted aimlessly before locking onto the glistening roast meat sizzling over the fire. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as if swallowing what little saliva remained, and his desperate gaze gradually filled with raw hunger. Lao Bai walked over, crouched before him, and offered an unfried steamed bun from Boss Yi's counter along with a cup of warm lemon water. "Eat something first to settle your stomach." The man nodded frantically, yet the moment his hands clamped onto the bun, all restraint vanished as he wolfed it down in ravenous bites. Only after he had finished the bun and washed it down with the water did Lao Bai look him in the eyes and ask, "I'm Lao Bai. What about you? What's your name?" Panting heavily, the man stammered, "Huang... Huang Guangwei." Lao Bai continued, "Where did you come from?" Instantly, the man looked at Lao Bai with sharp vigilance, darting a swift glance around the surroundings before clamping his mouth shut, refusing to utter another syllable. Sensing the man's wariness, Lao Bai smiled faintly, maintaining a relaxed tone. "There's no need to be afraid. We are from the Alliance. If you haven't heard of the Alliance... perhaps you've heard of Shelter 404." Saying so, he produced his VM and tapped it twice, waking the screen. Seeing the pale blue boot logo appear on the VM display, the man visibly breathed a sigh of relief, most of the suspicion draining from his eyes. Observing this reaction, Lao Bai had already guessed the broad strokes of the situation. He hooked an earpiece over his ear and pressed a button. "Fang Chang, come over to the One-Man Tavern. There's an NPC here who might be from Shelter 70." After a brief pause, Fang Chang's voice came through. "On my way." And just as Lao Bai had anticipated, the distraught man slowly spoke up. "I... I come from Shelter 70..." With that, he grabbed Lao Bai's arm, staring at him with desperate pleading in his eyes. "Help me... please, for the sake of us both being shelter residents!"