Daily Life of the Coalition's Chief "Mascot"

"Five... five million?! Silver coins?!" Scientific Expedition, Era of Prosperity Relic Recovery and Registration Office. A startled shriek drifted out from the tightly shut reception room, jolting the crowd waiting in line with numbers in hand. Heads craned toward the reception room one after another, expressions universally morphing into envy and even greed. Needless to ask, they could all guess what had happened in that little room—after all, they were "hunters" in this very trade. Long ago, the Alliance's Scientific Expedition had opened a channel for compensated recovery of Era of Prosperity relics. By now, "archaeology" in the Alliance had evolved into a mature industry chain. Some handled registration, some handled appraisals, some were responsible for valuation and acquisitions, while others focused on hustling and picking up overlooked treasures. For scavengers who struck gold, if they chose the Scientific Expedition's recovery channel, all they had to do was bring the item in, fill out a form, and wait patiently for up to seven business days for the appraisal results before deciding whether to nod or shake their heads. If a client chose not to sell, the Scientific Expedition wouldn't force them; they were free to take whatever they had brought with them. However, because the researchers consistently offered very generous prices, most people signed without hesitation. Many scavengers even traveled here from the eastern provinces, or even from the Science Committee's territory, specifically to trade treasures—after all, the Alliance's reputation was plain for all wastelanders to see. With a stroke of luck, a well-preserved Era of Prosperity relic could fetch astronomical sums in the hundreds of thousands of silver coins, enough to lie flat for the rest of one's days. Even if the Scientific Expedition didn't take a liking to it, folks from the museum or Camp 101 might pick it up, and some blue coats from Shelter 404 were often in the market as well. For instance, the big boss who ran Goblin Tech regularly spent silly money buying things that looked useless and were in fact useless, just to take them back and tinker with them. Many scavengers made an outright living off this. After Boulder City's Inner City collapsed, many of its mercenary groups had also switched over to this line of work. Occasionally, they even teamed up with the blue coats of Shelter 404 to pioneer more distant ruins. Still, a seven-figure payout... Even among the veteran scavengers, it had been quite a while since anyone had heard of such a thing. Murmurs rippled through the queue as everyone speculated about what kind of treasure the lucky bastard had stumbled upon. "Could he have dug up a spaceship or something?" "My bet's on a Titan!" "Not a chance... If there was really one of those, the Academy would've scavenged it ages ago." "I'm guessing it's some treasure dragged out of a desolate corner where nobody lives." "True enough... Anywhere else with good stuff would've been hauled off by the Reconstruction Committee back in the day." In theory, the Reconstruction Committee possessed the most comprehensive records; the people who best knew where the good stuff was on the wasteland had all belonged to that organization. Later, during the era of the Three Giants, the Academy "inherited" the Reconstruction Committee's archaeological leads, combing clean the places the Reconstruction Committee hadn't managed to finish off over half a century, and they kept at it for another century and a half. One could only imagine how many true treasures were actually left on this wasteland. While the crowd gossiped outside, inside the closed reception room, a man with sun-darkened, ruddy skin stared with wide, astonished eyes. Five million silver coins! When he heard that figure, Ma Jinwei had thought for a moment that his ears were playing tricks on him. Yet the researcher didn't seem to be joking as he handed him a stamped inventory sheet. "Silver coins, of course. If you want another currency, I can submit a request to my superiors." "No, no need, silver coins are just fine!" Ma Jinwei grinned with simple, honest bashfulness. The reason he smiled that way wasn't because he was particularly honest, but purely because he had never seen so much money in his entire life and simply didn't know what face to make. Barely half a month ago, he had still been farming back in Mafu Town. Who could have imagined that the iron lump sitting in his old storehouse could bring him such an immense fortune? He only recalled that his grandfather had hauled it back from an urban area over a hundred kilometers away, intending to fix it up and use it as a tractor. But after tinkering for ages without ever figuring out how to get it started, the old man had simply left it in the storehouse to gather dust. It wasn't until recently, when the Coalition Community declared war on Torch and he saw the letter sent back by the town mayor, that he remembered he could haul the thing out to trade for cash. After much hesitation, he finally made up his mind to rent a train carriage and ship it to Dawn City to try his luck. He still vaguely remembered the bizarre looks the workers from Dawn City had given him when the crane at Mafu Town station loaded the thing onto the train. They had looked at him as if he were a monster. After verifying the balance on the card, Ma Jinwei immediately pressed his thumbprint onto the sheet. He even wanted to slip a cut to the two researchers who had helped him out, which gave them quite a fright; they waved their hands frantically with wry smiles to decline. The Scientific Expedition's funding and benefits were easily the highest in the entire Alliance. While their compensation wasn't as outlandish as seven figures, they were well-fed, well-clothed, and had no worries about making ends meet. There was zero reason to risk being investigated by the Guards Corps over a bit of pocket change that "wouldn't change their lives much." What was more, most of them hadn't joined the Scientific Expedition for money in the first place, but to realize the ideal painted for them by the Administrator: ending the Wasteland Era. On the wasteland, anyone who possessed knowledge or skills from the Era of Prosperity carried at least some degree of nostalgia and yearning for that great era. "...My friend, please don't put us to the test with that sort of thing. Besides, we're only on duty here handling registrations. Appraisals and valuations are done by different departments altogether. Giving us gifts won't help you anyway." Ma Jinwei didn't entirely understand the researcher's wry refusal. After all, Mafu Town didn't have so many complicated intricacies or fancy procedures. Seeing that they refused to take even a sliver of "respect," he could only scratch the back of his head and smooth things over with an embarrassed laugh. "I—I see... Haha, thanks for all your hard work, then." The researcher smiled. "It's no trouble. We have our own performance metrics. In two months, we'll be transferred to other departments to do research work. If you find anything else, just come back to this office." "You got it! If I find anything else, I'll definitely come! Thanks a bunch, I'll be taking off then." Grinning from ear to ear, his hands fidgeting awkwardly, Ma Jinwei nodded repeatedly as he made for the door. Once he got back to town, maybe he could use this money to open an inn. Then again, opening it in Mafu Town seemed pointless; that place called "Kun Town" was clearly much livelier. Lately, plenty of travelers getting off the train at Mafu Town were bound for there. He had also heard the Alliance planned to build Weifu City there, just like Luoye City in the northwest. Maybe he could take this money and try his luck over that way. After all, striking it rich through farming was far too difficult. Of course, before that, he had to go have some fun with his buddies back in town. He had promised that if he actually traded this thing for cash, he would treat them all to a round of drinks... "Take care. Oh, right... go this way." Seeing that he was heading toward the front entrance, the researcher remembered something and pulled him toward a back door leading directly to a security corridor. This fellow had shouted at the top of his lungs just now; by now, everyone outside probably knew he was packing five million. While there was nothing to worry about within Alliance borders, out on the wasteland, it would be another story entirely. Ma Jinwei blinked, quickly caught on, and hurried to nod his thanks before slipping out the back door, glancing over his shoulder every few steps. The office fell quiet. The researcher sitting at the computer, who had remained silent the entire time, glanced at his standing colleague. "Isn't five million a bit steep?" He couldn't shake the feeling that even if they gave that guy fifty million, he'd probably squander every last coin. It would be far better to make that money disappear in a slightly more meaningful way. Perhaps they ought to set up a wealth management fund to pitch to these lucky souls who "struck it rich on pure luck." He had even submitted a proposal about this to his superiors, but unfortunately, such a meaningful suggestion had been flatly rejected. The researcher handling the reception was thinking of something else entirely and replied with a smile: "It's not much at all. Meissner effect armor... If we can get our hands on that, adding two more zeroes would still be a bargain." Whether in terms of economic value or military value, the technology was undeniably worth every cent. Currently, the Alliance had mastered two shield technologies, but both deflector shields and nitrogen shields suffered from their respective shortcomings. For instance, the former struggled against low-speed and guided weapons, and because its underlying principle relied on manipulating gravitons—a technology that was still fairly new even in the Era of Prosperity—its power consumption was colossal. As for the latter, it performed poorly against high-speed projectiles and high-energy particle rays, and could only function in standard atmospheric environments. Meissner effect armor was fundamentally different: its core attribute was specifically designed to counter metallic weapons. Because the majority of rigid armor-piercing munitions utilized alloy materials—especially the railguns widely deployed during the Era of Prosperity—calling it the bane of "hard-core penetrators" was no exaggeration. To use a simple comparison: assuming a deflector shield and Meissner effect armor utilized the exact same capacitor and power supply system, if the former could stop one to two railgun rounds, the latter could withstand three to four. It was said that during the Three-Year War, under certain circumstances, some captains in the Human Alliance would even consider shutting down their deflector shields to engage the far more energy-efficient Meissner effect armor against the dense barrages produced by rebel fleet mass drivers, thereby maximizing the fleet's overall resilience against kinetic penetrators. If utilized properly, this could very well become a technology capable of altering the entire course of the war. From what limited intelligence they had, even Enterprise might not possess it. The researcher at the computer twirled the pen in his fingers, wearing a helpless expression. "Put that way, it makes sense... but I just feel giving this money to him is completely meaningless. You saw him—he doesn't deserve that kind of wealth at all. In other words, the item is worth this much, but the person who found it isn't." If it had been a resident of Shelter 404, he probably wouldn't have had any objections. After all, those folks were truly putting their lives on the line for their rewards, venturing into the deadliest corners of the wasteland, unlike that muddle-headed farmer who struck it rich purely through blind luck. Listening to him, the receptionist researcher merely chuckled. "'Meaning,' my friend—never bring up 'meaning.' It's the flimsiest concept under scrutiny. If we had to ponder whether an action was meaningful before doing anything, the inevitable conclusion would be that nothing holds any meaning at all." The researcher at the computer looked up at him. "What do you mean?" Walking over to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup, the receptionist researcher said leisurely: "What I mean is, pragmatists are close cousins to nihilists; human likes and dislikes shift like the wind. If you think he isn't worthy today, tomorrow you'll decide none of them are worthy. That is why we must establish rigid, unambiguous rules and ensure they are executed impartially. Even if those rules become obsolete one day, they should only be changed after thorough deliberation... not based on your personal judgment or mine." This had been taken directly from Mr. Yin Fang's speech at the Scientific Expedition's third internal meeting. That big shot truly lived up to his reputation as top-tier talent from the Academy. He possessed quite the knack for both academic research and administrative management; rumor had it that he had single-handedly built the Alliance's entire scientific research and archaeological framework. To be frank, he rather idolized Yin Fang, particularly after learning about the man's legendary background. The researcher at the computer shrugged, boredly tapping the screen to select the next lucky soul on the list. "I'm not interested in that sort of philosophy. I just want to finish my rotation here as soon as possible and get into the lab to do something meaningful." Sipping his coffee, the receptionist researcher smiled. "Administrative rotation credits are mandatory; it's designed to familiarize you with the Scientific Expedition's operating workflow. I've only got a month left, and you've got three. Just hang in there a bit longer." ... Weifu Military Base. In the allied supreme commander's office, Chu Guang was back on the line with Yin Fang over the dedicated shelter line laid by the Southern Construction Corps, listening to the latter recount the entire incident. After understanding what had taken place, his mood was remarkably similar to playing Civilization VI and watching a primitive barbarian tribe hand him the Eureka boost for the "Giant Death Robot"—he was utterly baffled, yet found an odd thread of plausibility in it. Collecting himself, he asked immediately, "Where was this thing found?" Anticipating what Chu Guang cared about, Yin Fang smiled knowingly. "Rest assured, I've already dispatched your 'wanjia' to investigate the vicinity of those coordinates." Chu Guang nodded, a smile easing onto his face. It seemed Yin Fang had grown thoroughly adept at utilizing the players; the man no longer required his hands-on instruction. Soon, however, Chu Guang grew curious again—what did that "nearly intact" Prowler tank actually look like? If he hadn't just arrived at the front lines a few days ago, he would have loved to board an airship at once and fly back to examine that Era of Prosperity weapon of war with his own eyes. Noticing Chu Guang's impatient look, Yin Fang took a sip of coffee and chuckled. "...To be honest, I never expected that Coalition Community of yours could get its hands on something this interesting... A Prowler tank fitted with Meissner effect armor is far rarer than power armor. The Human Alliance barely manufactured many to begin with, and serialized units were scavenged by the Reconstruction Committee more than a century ago. You probably wouldn't find one anywhere outside the Legion or the Great Rift Valley." Chu Guang asked with curiosity, "The Academy doesn't have any?" Yin Fang shook his head. "Not to my recollection. They never secured a complete Prowler tank. That said, with their technological reserves, replicating Meissner effect armor wouldn't be difficult. But as you know, helium-3 is exceedingly scarce, so from what I remember, only the research vessels of certain senior researchers were equipped with similar defensive functions." As he said this, Yin Fang's voice carried a subtle, meaningful undertone, conveying a distinct touch of advice. Chu Guang nodded thoughtfully. Indeed. Helium-3 was a massive headache. Even by the Era of Prosperity, Earth still retained vast untapped mineral deposits, not to mention the unique "scrap mines" of the Wasteland Era and the "seabed mineral beds" that had been barred from exploitation as pre-war ecological reserves. Yet helium-3 was brought by solar winds; shielded by Earth's magnetic field and atmosphere, planetary reserves were minuscule. To obtain it, one had to go to the Moon, venture to Mercury, or else exhume ancient vaults from the Era of Prosperity. It was precisely because of the unique nature of helium-3 resources that "Administrators" across the wasteland faced a peculiar dilemma— Namely, whether or not to adopt advanced technologies from the Era of Prosperity. The Alliance had relied on wood-burning generators for a period. While clearly no match for nuclear fusion reactors, they were far more convenient than solar power arrays that demanded paired energy storage equipment. Back then, wood was the one thing Qingquan City never lacked, making fuel exceptionally easy to procure; they had even mounted those identical generators onto trucks. Yet a fatal bottleneck existed within. Constrained by energy scale, extraction efficiency, and numerous other factors, burning wood could at best support technologies from the mid-to-late Atomic Age. Forget Era of Prosperity black tech; it couldn't even launch a propeller aircraft into the sky. If the Alliance had clung stubbornly to conventional energy, they would likely still be squabbling with Boulder City over survival resources today, never achieving anywhere near their current scale of growth. Yet adopting more advanced energy sources introduced an alternative hazard: the sheer unsustainability of helium-3. When it came to managing their limited helium-3 reserves, Enterprise, the Academy, and the Legion had all taken vastly different paths. The Alliance was no exception. Whenever Chu Guang made a decision, beyond weighing the pros and cons in individual domains—politics, economics, military affairs, science, industry, culture—he had to view the situation from a holistic standpoint, carefully weighing whether the Alliance's strategic reserves could bear the burden. Take power armor: as personal infantry equipment, its helium-3 consumption was relatively low, and a single core could last until the suit was scrapped. Thus, with the Alliance's nuclear reserves, maintaining an establishment of several hundred suits was more than manageable. However, if deflector shields or Meissner effect armor were slapped onto all several hundred suits of "Xiaguang" power armor, a thousand cubic meters of helium-3 would instantly evaporate into thin air. Over-investing strategic resources into military endeavors could even disrupt the supply to the fusion reactor in Xizhou City, which underpinned the stability of every production and residential facility across the entire Alliance. Consequently, he would rather accept expensive gear like power armor being written off in combat than pile energy-guzzling shields onto non-strategic weapons, at most approving a handful of experimental prototypes to test technical feasibility. After all, in the vast majority of cases, even if that gear was thoroughly wrecked beyond repair, the fusion battery inside could still be salvaged, meaning the only thing lost was money. And that was the most realistic reason why deflector shields and nitrogen shields were so difficult to deploy on a large scale. Chu Guang could hear Yin Fang's implied caution: even with the Academy's vast energy reserves, they preferred to mothball this technology rather than field it widely across their armed forces. As for the Legion, they were even more blunt: they didn't bother reverse-engineering their treasures at all. They used whatever they had on hand, and once it was spent, they fell back on domestically produced "true antiques" or "hybrid antiques" like the Wild Boar and the Bison. The longer time dragged on and the further the world drifted from the Era of Prosperity, the more pronounced the advantage became for the Wilante, who had adapted to the wasteland well ahead of everyone else. After all, given the current state of outer space, resuming Earth-Moon transit was virtually impossible, and the heritage of the Era of Prosperity was destined to run dry one day. "...What a shame. Such an intriguing technology, yet we can't put it to use." Chu Guang sighed softly, though another thought was already turning in his mind. Even if tactical-tier equipment couldn't afford it, strategic assets might be worth a shot. From what Yin Fang had described, this thing was practically the bane of railguns. On the southern front, wasn't the Southern Alliance currently being suppressed by the heavy guns of the Northern Federation's battleships? If they slapped a shield onto their allies' fleet, who knew if they could claw back some advantage. Yet rather than settling the score on the open seas, his players seemed to pin far more hope on that "submersible aircraft carrier" under construction. Chu Guang pondered silently. Perhaps he could hand this card over to Fang Chang and the others to play, regardless of whether it proved useful in the end. Mistaking Chu Guang's silence for discouragement, Yin Fang offered a word of comfort: "Actually, looking at it from another angle, the true value of this thing might not lie entirely on the battlefield. The technologies we can recover from it go far beyond just 'superconducting shields'—there are over thirty sub-technologies across energy, materials, data processing, and more. In particular, several superconducting materials for specific operating conditions and high-performance capacitors are things our allies have never shared with us." The Academy and the Alliance had inked a scientific cooperation pact, and Enterprise had launched multiple manufacturing partnerships with the Alliance, but technological exchanges between the parties were far from completely unhindered. Especially when it came to these critical technologies. They had paid an immense price in blood and treasure to acquire them; by neither reason nor sentiment would they simply hand them over to outsiders. Hearing the comforting tone over the receiver, Chu Guang leaned back in his chair and smiled. "That field lies beyond my abilities. I'll have to trouble you with it." Scientific research was probably the one domain where he struggled to gain help from the real world. In the early days, he had attempted to bring in genuinely capable young scholars from his original world and observe their in-game behavior. That included Professor Kuang Feng from Southern University, who had entered the game early on, followed later by Gu Lang, as well as Ge Geda, who worked under a certain academician, and several others. Unlike half-baked engineers like Mosquito, they were real researchers: not only quick studies, but equipped with rich hands-on experience on the front lines. However, because the generational gap in foundational theory was simply too vast and the specialized terminology differed so greatly, many concepts in the game appeared no different from "game lore" or outright "magic" to them. As a result, their progress had remained slow, and they often studied things with deep skepticism. Weighing the incalculable risks against the extremely meager returns, Chu Guang had ultimately refrained from meddling in their gameplay, maintaining only limited observation. Yet based on Xiao Qi's continuous monitoring of multiple subjects, at best, they could only ever reach the point of completing Generation 1 controllable nuclear fusion; making greater breakthroughs was practically impossible. As for Generation 2 controllable nuclear fusion, relative to the foundation back in the "real world," it was essentially a singularity stacked upon singularities; researching it would mostly amount to wasted effort. And that was assuming he didn't actively interfere. If he truly wanted to cause trouble, merely using the trash dev's privileges to covertly tweak a single parameter or formula would send them spinning their wheels for years, completely extinguishing their faith in the technical avenues of Wasteland Online. After all, in the eyes of a handful of "insiders," Wasteland Online, riddled with countless "irrationalities," was already tantamount to an olive branch extended by an extraterrestrial civilization. If an ostensibly benign, higher-tier civilization deemed a certain technological path unviable, then from the perspective of a junior civilization, exploring alternative routes was naturally the more rational choice. "...You're far too polite. This is my job to begin with. If I didn't show some real capability, how could I face all those coffee machines you sent me?" Yin Fang bantered back, then suddenly remembered another matter and spoke up: "Right, one more thing. The Southern Alliance wants us to establish branch offices of the Scientific Expedition down there—on Ring Island and in Coral City. Their terms are quite generous, and you know their literacy rate; they could inject some fresh blood into our expedition." Chu Guang hesitated. "Have they taken back Coral City already?" Yin Fang made a helpless expression on the holographic screen. "Evidently, they're still fighting for it. I suspect they want to borrow your strength... But frankly speaking, I'm not good at this sort of thing. Better for you to decide." After a moment's thought, Chu Guang said: "If you believe their cooperation proposal is sincere, I think it's acceptable. As for Coral City, I'll have the players active down there find a way." He had already taken over Shelter 70 from Sun Yuechi, and the various islands of the Southern Alliance held an open, receptive attitude toward the Alliance's governance models and ideals. In the end, they would most likely join with the survivors of River Valley Province just as Boulder City had, perhaps integrating even more thoroughly than Boulder City. After all, they shared the same origins, and egalitarian ideals were even more deeply ingrained among them. If that was the case, there was nothing to hesitate over. What was more, his little players had probably been eyeing that undersea Coral City for ages; he might not even need to issue a special quest to urge them forward. Having received Chu Guang's approval, Yin Fang smiled pleasantly. "Great, then that's settled." With that final matter resolved, Yin Fang hung up the call and went back to his research. Leaning back in his chair, Chu Guang was about to catch a breather, but before Ibers's "daughter" X-16 could finish brewing the tea, another call came in from the Academy's Alpha Mobile Task Force. "...We plan to launch an offensive against Blood Mountain tomorrow. I would like to request allied artillery support." As he spoke, the commander with rather sparse facial expressions forwarded the operational plan. Chu Guang opened it and saw that it was dozens of gigabytes in size, giving him an instant headache. Before opening the files, he flicked his index finger and forwarded it straight to Vannus. "...No problem. I will instruct all units to provide the necessary support for your offensive according to the operational plan." The commander nodded, left a polite "thank you," and crisply hung up. Speaking with this fellow was surprisingly refreshing; Chu Guang found himself softening his stereotype of the Academy just a bit. It seemed not everyone in the Wandering Marsh loved beating around the bush. Awkwardly, however, this fellow's presence was shockingly faint. As the nominal supreme commander of the Allied Coalition, Chu Guang realized he couldn't even recall the guy's name. "...Xiao Qi, what was the name of the commander sent by the Academy again?" Perched on his shoulder, Xiao Qi pulled up the files from the database and quickly answered, "Um... Alpha Zero? That's the name in the records." Alpha Zero? Chu Guang, who was just taking the black tea from the tray in X-16's hands, paused slightly. What surprised him wasn't the peculiar name, but that he had actually managed to forget such a distinctive one. Taking a sip of tea, Chu Guang muttered softly under his breath: "How strange..."