Bitter wind and snow howled across the boundless tundra. A furry lemming poked its head out of a snowdrift, only to be frightened back inside by a rumbling roar.
A train consisting of only four cars was making its way across the snow.
The train ran on no rails; in their place were continuous tracks beneath its chassis. Couplers linked car to car, and each car seemed to possess an independent propulsion system, yet at the same time, all the power appeared to be supplied by the lead locomotive.
Sitting beside a window, Ye Shi stared intently at the astonishingly vast tundra outside, his eyes filled with indescribable wonder.
*The trash dev actually has some chops.*
Even though fewer than a hundred players were active in the Wandering Marsh, the operators of *Wasteland Online* had still fleshed out this entire region of the map.
The sleet rattling against the glass, the powdered snow churned up by the treads, the reindeer trekking across the tundra...
Everything was startlingly lifelike.
Sitting across from him, Jiang Xuezhou misinterpreted the amazement on his face and curled her lips slightly.
"Huge, isn't it?"
"It really is..." Ye Shi nodded, then added with a touch of melancholy, "Just a bit deserted."
What baffled him most was why the Academy, possessing the most advanced technology on the wasteland, would leave such an enormous expanse of land completely undeveloped.
If the prosperity of Ideal City had some fluff to it—where colorful light shows and an Endpoint Cloud flooded with data could give people the illusion of rapid technological leaps—the Academy's technology genuinely reached awe-inspiring heights.
As the only survivor faction on the wasteland capable of producing anti-gravity devices without relying on black boxes and possessing the technology to manufacture faster-than-light engines, they realistically had the capacity to build a true utopia on this wasteland.
That shouldn't have been any harder than venturing into deep space to find another habitable planet to start over.
At least, so it seemed to a student like him.
Jiang Xuezhou tilted her head, not quite understanding what he meant by deserted.
Right then, a researcher sitting at the adjacent table chuckled and chimed in.
"Naturally. This is the northernmost edge of the Mid-Continent. The fragile ecosystem is already at its limit supporting our current population. Things are fine just as they are. In fact, if more people came, things would only get messy."
Ye Shi looked at him in confusion.
"More people would make things messy?"
"Tickets for the ship are fixed, after all," another traveling researcher remarked laconically, flipping through papers on his tablet. "A 'ship' capable of carrying everyone has never existed, and the covenant we signed with the survivors never included such a clause."
Ye Shi echoed, "Covenant?"
"That was a century and a half ago. To escape persecution by the Legion and the Enterprise, we departed the Great Rift Valley. Some survivors who lost their livelihoods after the collapse of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee followed our trail and tracked us down, begging us to take them in. That was how the Science Committee was born."
The researcher paused, turned his gaze out the window, and continued in a level, unhurried tone.
"As promised, we provide the nutrients necessary for their survival, and in return, they agreed to voluntarily surrender all political rights, join our project, and submit to our administration. We have already granted them the treatment we promised, and we even reward those who obey... even though obedience was their sworn duty to begin with. Is there any reason we should raise their standard of living?"
Ye Shi stared at him in disbelief. "Holy cow, you guys are more capitalist than capitalists."
The researcher blinked, giving him a peculiar look.
"I don't know what that term means, but at least we never deceived them. From the very beginning, we made it clear that the Academy is neither a charity nor a nation—merely a research organization. Our ultimate objective is to complete our Ark, after which we will depart. We never begged them to live on our land. Or do you believe dangling an unreachable pie in front of wastelanders like the Enterprise does is the superior approach?"
That actually sounded somewhat reasonable.
For a moment, Ye Shi couldn't think of a retort, especially once he realized this was their internal affair and none of his business as an outsider.
Yet just as he was about to drop the subject, Jiang Xuezhou—who had always carried the air of an obedient, well-behaved girl—suddenly spoke up.
"Didn't you test into the Academy yourself?"
The researcher glanced at her, replying calmly, "Yes. And your point?"
Jiang Xuezhou couldn't hold back. "You used to be one of them. Why do you speak of them as if they're slaves..."
"Allow me to correct you first: I never said they were slaves." The man returned his gaze to his tablet, his tone flat. "And to answer your question: as you said, that was 'used to be.'"
With that, he said no more, not wishing to make enemies over a petty verbal spat.
This train had departed from Binghai City, and the passenger traveling with her wore the iconic VM of a shelter resident on his arm—likely a foreign guest invited for the Slime Mold Community project.
If so, her mentor had to be a figure of considerable prominence.
Jiang Xuezhou stared at him with wide, uncomprehending eyes, struck speechless.
"My fault, I ought to apologize." Ye Shi gave a light cough and stood up, trying to defuse the tension in the compartment. "Actually... our shelter is the same. A shelter that holds everyone can't possibly exist, so some get in while others stay out; some enjoy comfort early while others suffer hardship early. For a greater purpose, someone always has to make sacrifices... That's reality, and the most helpless reality at that."
A faint smile touched the lips of the researcher browsing his papers, while Jiang Xuezhou turned to Ye Shi in disbelief, seemingly shocked that he would say such a thing.
Ye Shi didn't look at her, merely shrugging as he went on.
"It's just that we can't bring ourselves to stomp all over those who couldn't get in just because we were fortunate enough to be born in a shelter. Our knowledge, our technology, our methods, the black boxes, and everything else rightfully belong to 'all of us' from that era. Signing unequal treaties with a tiny handful of poor souls, enjoying only the legacy left by 'us' while refusing to fulfill 'our' obligations—I truly can't understand that... Being a coward can be excused by helpless reality, but is that something to stick your chest out and brag about?"
The researcher reading his tablet gave a hard twitch of his brow, choosing silence in response.
The shock on Jiang Xuezhou's face morphed into delight, followed by a triumphant smile, as if confirming she hadn't misjudged him after all.
Whispers broke out across the compartment. Some passengers turned to see what kind of fellow dared speak so boldly, while others curled their lips in contempt, uninterested in the wisdom of mere mortals.
Naturally, a few wore pensive expressions, genuinely weighing the logic of his words.
At the Academy, rational discourse was relatively welcome, particularly arguments backed by sound reasoning.
That was the Academy's sharpest contrast with other regions: pure emotional outbursts rarely earned a second glance.
Yet Ye Shi, the instigator, suddenly felt a twinge of regret.
His original intent had been to apologize and stop meddling. But his mouth had slipped, wandering off course until he couldn't resist a sarcastic dig.
Brother Fang Chang was right: he truly needed to kick his habit of talking too much.
They were here to make friends, not enemies.
"Thank you," Jiang Xuezhou whispered, blushing as Ye Shi sat back down.
"Ah, what's there to thank me for?" Ye Shi brushed it off, still not figuring out how he had helped her.
Though thrilled that he had voiced what she wanted to say but lacked the courage to utter, Jiang Xuezhou soon grew anxious, as if struck by a sudden worry, and murmured softly:
"By the way... you entered on that electronic transit pass. If you talk recklessly like that, won't your Administrator blame you?"
Every researcher in this car was outfitted with bionic cybernetics; snapping photos or recording video took nothing more than a stray thought.
She worried that if word leaked out, it might trigger a diplomatic incident—such as an Alliance shelter resident openly criticizing Academy policy and the Science Committee's administration.
Ye Shi paused, then chuckled.
"Ah? No way. Our Administrator isn't that petty."
Not like the trash dev.
Muting players for posting lewd images was one thing, but flagging completely harmless memes cropped from doujins as violations?
That was truly crossing the line!
As they talked, a faint sign of human presence materialized against the boundless wilderness outside.
An oil well.
Its antiquated, old-fashioned design made Ye Shi feel for an instant as though he had returned to the real Earth.
At the sight of the oil well, Jiang Xuezhou brightened up.
"We're here!"
Right as her words fell, the arrival announcement sounded through the car.
"Arriving at Site 721. Passengers alighting at this station, please prepare to disembark."
Ye Shi moved to help her with her luggage, only to see the suitcase roll down from the overhead rack on its own and trundle toward the exit on its wheels.
"What are you standing there gaping for? We need to go!" Jiang Xuezhou urged excitedly, seeing Ye Shi frozen beside the seat.
She hadn't seen her family in a long time. While others felt homecoming dread, she was brimming with anticipation.
"Ah... right."
Ye Shi followed behind her, staring at the suitcase with envy.
High technology was wonderful after all!
To a college student who regularly had to haul luggage onto high-speed trains to head home, this gadget held far more appeal than nuclear fusion or whatever...
The group stood in the airlock chamber. As the outer doors slid open, howling wind and snow rushed in.
Even bundled in cold-weather gear and packed with cybernetics from head to toe, Ye Shi still felt the biting chill hit his face.
This was a remote corner of the Wandering Marsh, home to the settlement known as Site 721.
According to Jiang Xuezhou, the local survivors were tasked with extracting petroleum from beneath the permafrost in sub-zero temperatures averaging minus twenty degrees year-round, supplying raw materials to an industrial zone fifty kilometers away.
Tracked vehicles arrived regularly to haul away the fuel and bring needed provisions.
Although the Era of Prosperity had uncovered numerous biological and chemical synthesis methods for petroleum substitutes, from a practical standpoint, this diesel-powered drilling rig was far better suited to the environment of the Wandering Marsh and the unique structure of the Science Committee.
Advanced production methods were not always superior.
What the Science Committee needed to ensure was that the colony ship bound for the future would be completed on schedule; excess production was equivalent to waste. Traditional economic principles did not apply here—nor did they apply to most settlements across the wasteland.
Disembarking alongside them were another man and woman. The man was tall and thin with short hair. The woman wore a black ponytail and looked like the quiet type.
As Ye Shi sized them up, the man offered him a faint smile and spoke.
"A remarkable speech."
Ye Shi was taken aback and grew flustered, coughing lightly.
"You flatter me. I'm actually a bit embarrassed. I run my mouth too much—sorry if I offended you—"
Jiang Xuezhou curled her lips slightly and muttered:
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. What you said was completely right. Why apologize for the truth? The strange ones are those who took offense, when their own family and friends live in places like this."
"Haha, the Science Committee's decisions aren't mine to judge, but... I agree with what this gentleman said. We truly ought to do something with the knowledge left by our predecessors. The pursuit of a better life shouldn't be considered a crime." The researcher offered an amicable smile, then introduced himself. "I'm Li Xiang, an E-rank researcher. This is Wu Xiaoxiao, a prospector from my department."
The girl named Wu Xiaoxiao nodded reservedly, glancing at Ye Shi, though her gaze rested mostly on Jiang Xuezhou.
Ye Shi noticed a distinct trace of awe and envy in her eyes.
Which was only natural.
Even though Xiao Jiang was merely a low-ranking D-rank, in the eyes of E-ranks and prospectors, she was undoubtedly a prominent figure.
"Ye Shi. And this is Jiang Xuezhou."
Though assuming the two might know his traveling companion, Ye Shi introduced her nonetheless.
Li Xiang gave them a polite nod, especially toward his senior schoolmate from the same hometown.
To Ye Shi's surprise, however, he sensed the man was actually far more interested in him.
"I heard you come from the Alliance?"
Ye Shi nodded. "Yes, I'm a resident of Shelter 404."
The interest in Li Xiang's eyes deepened considerably, particularly upon hearing Shelter 404.
"Splendid... I've always been fascinated by you all. Could you tell me more about it? How did you manage to establish such a massive organization on the wasteland in just two or three years?"
Judging from those eager eyes, he was genuinely curious.
Ye Shi hadn't expected to encounter an Alliance fan in such a remote corner. A swell of pride rose in his chest, and he laughed heartily.
"Well, that's a long story... It's only been two or three years, but quite a lot has happened in that time."
"No problem! We can talk as we walk." Li Xiang looked at him with keen anticipation, and even Jiang Xuezhou pricked up her ears in curiosity.
"All right, let me think..." Recalling earlier days, Ye Shi began weaving his tale in a casual tone. "Everything started with a town mayor named Old Leech, and a girl named Xiao Yu..."
A wonderful story always warms the heart; the howling wind and snow no longer seemed quite so bitter.
Initially, he had only intended to give a passing account of how the flame of order rose from the wasteland, but as he went on, he moved himself to tears.
Not that he was boasting.
Back then was genuinely hard as hell! A top-tier player like him had to fire cement with his own hands, and the highest-tier gear on the entire server had been a scoped pipe rifle!
Forget his listeners—even he, the storyteller, almost started weeping as he spoke!
The three walking beside him were likewise deeply touched, a faint spark unknowingly kindling in their hearts...
***
While Ye Shi was recounting everything from Chu Guang overthrowing the old mayor of Bet Street to the sparks igniting outside Boulder City, thousands or tens of thousands of kilometers away across the Polo Sea from the Wandering Marsh, an inconspicuous cargo ship was slowly approaching the largest trading port on the west coast of Bolo Province.
Standing on the bow deck, Governor Nihak stared at the distant harbor, his eyes wide with astonishment.
The glow of the setting sun bathed the bustling concrete piers, where neat rows of red-brick Western-style buildings lined stone-paved streets four to five meters wide.
The prosperity here seemed not in the least inferior to Golden Gallon Port, which had been turned upside down.
In fact, it was even grander, even busier!
The Wilantes' artistic attainments were no less impressive than those of architects from the Alliance, the Enterprise, or the Academy—especially when it came to colossal, imposing architecture, where their aesthetic vision was as massive and distinct as the calibers of their siege guns.
A number of Wilantes appeared to have settled here, bringing not only their wives, estates, and dinars from Triumph City, but their refined way of life as well.
Governor Nihak watched as a high-nosed overseer cracked a whip, urging bare-chested laborers hauling crates large enough to hold a person to scurry back and forth across the scorching concrete dock.
That familiar flavor!
Gazing upon the scene, Governor Nihak drew a deep breath, tears welling up in his eyes.
It was back!
It was all finally back!
Not far behind him, the fluffy white bear glared at his back with undisguised disgust and muttered:
"Can I throw him off the ship?"
"No can do, Rou Rou! He's a quest item! The client at Port Youtiao paid a hefty travel fee," Tail said beside her, resting her right foot on the railing as she eagerly gazed upon the legendary West Sail Port.
What a huge harbor!
This settlement was likely no smaller than Golden Gallon Port, perhaps home to over a million people!
And besides native Bolo residents, a considerable number of Wilantes resided in the port district. It looked like the cargo they had brought would sell without a hitch!
Before long, the cargo ship docked, and a Wilante officer stepped onto the deck.
Emerging from the wheelhouse, Sisi handed over the cargo manifest while pulling out her VM to display her credentials and identification barcode to the officer.
"This is an electronic pass issued by the Slime Mold Community. We would like to request permission to go ashore."
"Suit yourselves," the Wilante officer remarked with a chuckle after glancing at the document. "We will guarantee your legal rights, but I'd still advise you to remain within the port district. Those rats have filthy habits. A lady like yourself would do well not to wander at night or duck into back alleys; our guards might not spot you in time."
Detecting the malice in his gaze, Sisi remained unfazed, answering curtly:
"No need to trouble yourselves. Just make sure you don't try any petty tricks."
As if hearing a hilarious joke, the Wilante burst into hearty laughter. Once he had his fill, he curled his lip and replied:
"We don't stoop to petty tricks. What we want, we seize on the battlefield."
To be able to puff out one's chest and utter such words—perhaps only a Wilante could manage it.
Sisi shrugged, retorting sarcastically:
"Save that bluster for your own people; there's no need to preach it to us. Everyone who does business with us makes a fortune, but anyone hoping to snatch even a single copper from us had better prepare to lose a couple of teeth."
Hearing the barb beneath her words, the Wilante officer smiled nonchalantly and offered an exaggerated welcoming gesture.
"I am Dekolo, Director of the West Sail Port Port Affairs Office. Welcome to West Sail Port, and I wish you an enjoyable stay!"
With that, he handed the cargo manifest to his deputy beside him and disembarked.
Aboard the cargo ship *Rou Rou*, in addition to twenty-some passengers, the hold carried five hundred tons of canned herring and one hundred and fifty tons of potato liquor.
These were specialties of Golden Gallon Port and the two commodities most in demand by the Wilantes. Although there was little room for haggling, selling them would be completely effortless.
At least five to six thousand Wilantes had immigrated to West Sail Port, and counting the transient population, the number easily exceeded ten thousand. Their daily consumption of herring and spirits was measured in tons.
Furthermore, a few hundred nautical miles to the northwest lay the Southern Legion's port, so even if the locals couldn't consume it all, the remainder could be shipped there.
Besides herring and liquor, there was an assortment of miscellaneous goods:
Refrigerators, watches, furniture, appliances, and even second-hand books and handicrafts from Silver Moon Bay.
After disembarking, Sisi rented a covered booth in the bazaar through the Port Affairs Office, then directed the crew to haul several crates of loose goods to the stall as samples and set up price tags.
The four agreed to take turns manning the stall in pairs, drawing lots to decide the shifts.
The first shift fell to Sisi and Sesame Paste.
To pass the idle time between customers, Sisi bought a bestselling local book from the market and began flipping through it.
Sesame Paste initially watched the passing pedestrians with curiosity, but soon realized everyone strolling through this area was a Wilante. Watching them quickly grew tedious, so she pulled a book from a crate of second-hand volumes and began reading alongside Sisi.
Coincidentally, the one she picked up was *Awakened Pol*, the very title Tail had been pining for.
At first, she only intended to skim a couple of chapters, but she was quickly captivated by the gripping plot and became engrossed before she realized it.
Time slipped by, and Sisi completed two transactions without fuss: one hundred tons of canned herring at 6,300 silver coins per ton, and eighty tons of potato liquor at 11,221 silver coins per ton.
In West Sail Port, the market retail price was roughly double the wholesale price. For instance, canned herring with a wholesale price of 6.3 silver coins per kilogram would ultimately sell on shelves at a retail price of 12 to 15 dinars per can (200g).
In fact, running the numbers based on the minimum retail price of 12 dinars, a 200g can had a wholesale price of roughly 6 dinars, or 30 dinars per kilogram—almost exactly five times the true wholesale price of 6.3 silver coins per kilogram.
And the maximum exchange rate between silver coins and dinars hovered right around 1:5.
With liquor, however, the calculated ratio tended to run higher than that figure.
Intrigued by this curious phenomenon, Sisi jotted it down in her notebook, planning to include it as a travel observation in a forum post once she logged off later.
Seeing Sisi working so diligently, Sesame Paste, who had been slacking off for an hour, felt a twinge of guilt. She quietly closed the novel resting on her lap and prepared to put in some actual effort.
She couldn't leave everything to Sisi alone. At the very least... she had to make one sale before sundown!
Just as the thought crossed her mind, a customer happened to wander up to her stall.
The man was gaunt and plainly dressed—not a Wilante, nor did he look like a local. He resembled a priest of the Silver Moon Sect from Silver Moon Bay.
Sesame Paste was intimately familiar with such people—familiar enough to pick one out of a crowd at a single glance.
After all, whenever she forgot to wear a hat to cover the cat ears atop her head, these folks would rush forward and worship her with fanatic zeal.
The man glanced at the book on her lap, then at the basket of old books beside her, stroking his chin inquisitively.
"Are these books for sale?"
Hearing someone show interest in the books, a bright smile spread across Sesame Paste's face, her voice sweet and welcoming.
"Of course! Are you interested, sir?"
The man nodded earnestly.
"How much?"
Sesame Paste said warmly, "We sell by the ton. One ton contains about two to three thousand books, for only 2,000 silver coins!"
To her surprise, the man shook his head after hearing this, muttering with a sigh:
"Too cheap. How can precious treasures like books be sold cheaper than canned herring!"
*But these are used books...*
Watching the customer stomp his foot and shake his head, Sesame Paste gave a helpless look and asked tentatively:
"Then... 2,500?"
Before she could finish, the customer had already pulled banknotes from his simple robe.
"Let us settle on 2,000 silver coins. No need to haggle. Give me one ton."
Although their policy was a five-ton minimum, considering he was her first customer, Sesame Paste made an exception, accepted the money, and wrote him a pickup voucher.
"Just take this voucher to the cargo ship *Rou Rou* to collect your goods... Um, may I ask, what do you plan to do with these books, sir?"
The man made no attempt to conceal his purpose, answering with profound piety:
"I am a servant of the Goddess of the Silver Moon, come to this barren land to spread the gospel of the Silver Moon Goddess. Regrettably, the local survivors are too ignorant and unenlightened, so I plan to start by teaching them literacy."
Sesame Paste stared at him in surprise, her right hand instinctively tightening over her hat.
Speaking of which, the Moon Clan had just been purged by the Emperor of Xilan. Was it truly safe for the Silver Moon Sect to proselytize here?
It was hard to say whether there was any connection; after all, Silver Moon Bay and Bolo Province were so close that many things were murky.
Still, she quickly reminded herself that this place was under Wilante rule, so the Emperor's reach likely couldn't extend here.
"Well, best of luck to you then... Ah, right, besides old books, running a newspaper can also improve literacy rates," she kindly suggested when a thought struck her.
"...A newspaper, you say?"
The man murmured thoughtfully, his eyes gradually brightening. "Hmm... that is indeed a fine idea. It is certainly worth an attempt. But what content should be printed in such a paper?"
"Serializing popular stories might work well. For example... how about this one?"
With that, Sesame Paste handed *Awakened Pol* to him, enthusiastically recommending it:
"I remember *Survivor Daily* in Boulder City first gained popularity because of a serialized novel in its supplement! Once people have a shared language and common topics, they will actively study even without being pushed, and they might even participate in writing!"
She still remembered that the newspaper had initially published novels adapted and modified from real-world stories by players, but later on, the popular works were all original creations by the residents of Boulder City.
Looking at the book thrust into his hands, the priest looked overwhelmed by the honor.
"Ah, this is far too generous. Is it truly proper to give this to me like this? Perhaps I should pay... How much is it?"
As he spoke, he hurried to tuck the book under his arm and reached into his pockets again.
Seeing him scramble for coins, Sesame Paste chuckled softly and waved her hands.
"No need, no need! Just take it as a bonus gift with that ton of old books. If your newspaper turns a good profit, please send some royalties to Mr. Sberg in Boulder City. His wording may be a bit rough, but he wrote it with great care."
"Rest assured of that! By the way, my name is... Melchior. May I ask yours?"
"Just call me Sesame Paste." That was actually the name of her cat back home, which she had later adopted as her screen name.
Right then, Melchior caught sight of cat ears poking out from under the rim of her hat.
At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. But upon hearing the name "Sesame Paste," he vaguely recalled rumors he had heard in Silver Moon Bay, and his expression shifted from astonishment to sheer fanaticism.
Noticing the change in his expression, Sesame Paste knew trouble had struck and quickly tugged the brim of her hat down to stuff the exposed ears back in.
It was clearly too late, however.
With utmost reverence, the man dropped into a deep, sweeping bow, oblivious to the surroundings.
"O venerable... My apologies. Please be at ease! I shall never fail your expectations! The radiance of the Silver Moon shall bathe this barren land!"
Looking at his drastically over-the-top reaction and Sisi standing wide-eyed beside her, Sesame Paste explained, half-laughing and half-crying:
"Don't do that! You've got it wrong, I'm really not any avatar of the Silver Moon Goddess... I'm just an ordinary play—ugh, what do I even have to say to get you guys to believe me?"
"You speak the truth. Whatever you say is what shall be." Melchior wore an expression of utmost piety, making a gesture of sealed lips.
Just like back in Silver Moon Bay.
These cat lovers never listened to a word she said.
While it had been amusing at first, over time it would give anyone a headache.
Sesame Paste massaged her forehead with a sigh, ultimately giving up on explaining. Hugging her knees, she mumbled under her breath:
"Ah... well, good luck, I guess."
Her tone was thoroughly resigned and perfunctory, yet in Melchior's ears, it carried an entirely different weight.
As though receiving a divine calling from his Lord, Melchior gazed upon the girl crouched behind the sundries stall and pledged with unwavering devotion:
"By your command!"
Chapter 758