Day by day, time slipped by, turning mid-August into early September in the blink of an eye. Unnoticed, a trace of autumn chill settled over the streets of Dawn City.
With the weather turning cooler, many fashion-conscious residents had already traded their light short-sleeved shirts for cotton hoodies or leather jackets, both for convenience and because they were cheap.
Lately, cotton and leather were probably the hardest-falling commodities in the game.
Baiyue Province was unimaginably abundant in natural resources, and the vast labor force of Golden Gallon Port turned them into high-quality, inexpensive manufactured goods.
Take leather belts, for instance: the cheapest one went for only 100 gallons. What was more, it was genuine leather, at most sourced from a slightly unusual breed of mutant.
Factoring in tariffs, shipping costs, and other margins, it cost only eleven to thirteen silver coins—equivalent to just an hour's work for an average middle-class resident of Dawn City.
Naturally, the residents of Golden Gallon Port didn't lose out either. Many of them previously hadn't even had clothes to wear, and now bicycles were zipping through their streets like the wind.
For the more affluent residents of Dawn City, clothing options leaned toward greater variety.
Without anyone realizing when it began, the shop window of Tengteng's Cabin had become the benchmark of the fashion world, exporting trends all the way to Ideal City and even onto the families of Wilante soldiers.
Perhaps it was the wastelanders' unconscious imitation of vault dwellers' aesthetic tastes, or perhaps humankind's natural pursuit of "mystery"—more and more black stockings appeared on the streets, along with garments clearly out of sync with the era.
Among them were plenty of eye-catching outfits, but also quite a few absurd, even eye-searing monstrosities.
In a sense, though, this "unorthodox" spectacle was unexpectedly fitting in Wasteland Online.
After all, the wasteland's cultural ethos intrinsically embraced the concept of patchwork.
Namely, stitching together vastly different, even sharply contrasting elements, and deconstructing postmodern technological products through primitive social behaviors.
Such as pipe rifles made from futuristic high-tech conduits, crossbows crafted from rifle wreckage, and pulling stockings meant for legs over one's head... Of course, the latter was a rarity, mostly done by players who preferred not to show their faces.
All manner of attire created a vibrant scene along the bustling streets.
People still remembered that two years ago, in this very place, folk had been forced to stuff worthless banknotes from the old era into burlap sacks like batting, wrapping themselves up just to stay warm.
In just two short years, the wardrobes of Dawn City's survivors were stuffed with new clothes, and people were well-off enough to idle away time deciding which outfit and shoes to wear before stepping out.
Back when "chips" ruled this land, such widespread abundance benefiting the majority had been virtually unimaginable.
"...I'm always wondering what went wrong with chips. Logically speaking, there shouldn't be much difference between chips and silver coins, yet life now was completely unimaginable before."
In Dawn City, inside a cottage beside Ling Lake.
Resting her chin on both hands, Dolly gazed out the window at the tranquil garden and the succulents crowding the sill. Her mind drifted to the past, flooded with countless memories.
She still remembered that humble, tiny wish she had harbored in the darkness: she had wanted to grow a pot of succulents, because she had heard they could absorb radiation.
Although later, a certain big scoundrel told her that was just a trick to fool children. Radiation wasn't something that could be "sucked in"; it was simply energy propagating outward in the form of electromagnetic waves or particles.
If photosynthesis were defined as absorbing radiation, theoretically any plant had the effect of absorbing radiation.
Precisely because of that, it could only be considered a trick to fool children, not an outright lie.
A truly masterly deception required no lies at all.
Sitting opposite her with a newspaper in hand, Fang Chang smiled faintly, his doting gaze mirroring the way Dolly looked at the tender green shoots on the windowsill.
"...The moment you start looking for right and wrong in a tool, you've already walked down a dead end."
He had returned three days ago, primarily to handle matters regarding Baiyue Company's IPO, such as explaining the allocation of certain funds.
In particular, during the period when Baiyue Company was expanding its business in Golden Gallon Port, which expenditures were paid by the company and which were paid through the port authority had to be accounted for one by one.
Fang Chang understood the regulatory system's rigor. After all, overseas operations were the hardest to monitor; without strict oversight, shareholder interests couldn't be protected at all.
Take the simplest and crudest trick: they could build a subway with shareholder capital, run it at a loss, and then use a private company to collect ticket fares and fleece the public.
Such a scheme could cleanly harvest the residents of Dawn City while deflecting their outrage onto the locals of Golden Gallon Port: "Those stinking rats who make money without the life to spend it—how dare they steal from their grandfathers in Dawn City? Bah, ungrateful white-eyed rats, let's smash them!"
The Manager obviously wouldn't allow that to happen.
He had already anticipated the Manager's anticipation, having long ago drawn up clear plans for the finances of both Baiyue Company and the Niuma Group.
Even the account books of the Golden Gallon Port authority were meticulously detailed, tracking where every cent went and which accounts funds flowed between.
What surprised him was another minor matter: the person liaising with him turned out to be Xiao Yu.
The girl was just as she had always been, constantly quoting Brother Chu Guang and handling her work with meticulous precision.
The halo of the Blue Coat meant nothing to her. From start to finish, only one person held a place in her heart; even if she felt grateful toward others, she never pulled her punches.
Her eyes scrutinized the ledger like a microscope, and her aggressive questions broke him out in a cold sweat.
Especially when she questioned why Baiyue Company's investment in the Moon Clan resistance lacked concrete execution benchmarks—such as how much funding was disbursed for reaching specific milestone objectives—he couldn't help wiping his brow, conceding that it was indeed an oversight on his part.
He had partly been swayed by the hype on the forums, and having acquired a massive pile of spoils back then, he had gotten a bit carried away when spending money—or rather, overly confident.
He thought throwing money and gear at them would produce results, and had specifically sent people to track down those guerrillas. Who knew that the moment those fools started talking about equality, everyone had their own conflicting opinions, but when real fighting began, they threw down their armor and fled, getting farmed like wild mobs by NPCs.
To be fair to his conscience, he hadn't harbored any ill intentions when spending that money; he merely wanted to accelerate the changes taking place in Brahma Province... through what he deemed the appropriate methods.
"...Brother Chu doesn't object to you investing in what you think is worthwhile, but you must provide investors with an explanation: what goal are you trying to achieve, how much will it cost to achieve it, what are the risks, and what is the return.
"To that end, you need to formulate a detailed plan. It doesn't need to specify who executes every single step, but like a quest system, it must provide staged support to the executors and incorporate planned stop-losses.
"Until I see this plan, I suggest you'd better not leave Dawn City."
Having delivered those three pieces of advice, the sharp-eyed girl brought the hearing to a close.
Fang Chang had sat in the hearing gallery sighing with emotion for a long while before getting up to head home.
If only all the NPCs in this game were as innocent and full of righteous passion as his lovely Dolly.
Simple, unpretentious justice wasn't a bad thing.
Being too clever made someone far less adorable...
At this moment, Dolly had no idea what kind of "praise" her sweetheart was harboring about her in his heart; she was still pondering the question of chips and working on the article she was writing.
If she knew, once she snapped back to reality, she would probably bite him.
Her fluffy, short green hair swayed gently as Dolly looked at Fang Chang in bewilderment, tilting her head involuntarily.
"Are you saying there was nothing wrong with chips?"
Fang Chang thought for a moment before saying:
"Using examples you're familiar with makes it easy to bring in subjective bias. Let's take Cr as an example instead. Do you think Cr is good or bad?"
Dolly knitted her delicate brows, pondering for a long time before replying.
"I think... it's actually pretty good?"
The prosperity of Ideal City was plain for the entire wasteland to see; claiming Cr was bad would be lying through one's teeth.
Yet she had a nagging feeling that this bad guy wouldn't be so kind as to give her a simple, straightforward question, so she hesitated somewhat as she followed his lead.
Fang Chang smiled faintly without passing judgment, speaking in a conversational tone.
"At its core, Cr is a decentralized currency pegged to the total credit of society as a whole. It liberates all natural persons in society from the debt relationships of the old era, while smart contracts programmed on quantum algorithms guarantee absolute fairness in transactions. It doesn't rely on a central bank to regulate interest rates, and everyone participating in social activities benefits equally from the overall prosperity of society... Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
"Indeed... So saying Cr is good isn't wrong, right? Right?" Dolly nodded honestly, gazing at him curiously and waiting for him to continue.
Taking a sip of the coffee on the table, Fang Chang said slowly:
"Then what if I told you that the currency of the Bugra Free State was actually modeled after Cr?"
"Huh?!" Dolly stared at him in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. "Is that true?! But... why did the Bugra dollar depreciate so outrageously?"
She had heard that buying anything over there required a long string of zeros, and the smallest denomination of paper money was 1,000.
That sort of thing was designed after Cr?!
Enjoying the stunned expression on Dolly's face, Fang Chang smiled faintly and continued in a teasing tone.
"In fact, it's not just the Bugra dollar... The S-coin that flashed in the pan during Qingquan City's history was also a crude imitation of Cr. You've written reports about that stuff, so you should know very well what it was."
Dolly nodded blankly, her mind still spinning from that shocking revelation.
She still couldn't believe that the Bugra dollar and Cr were fundamentally the same thing.
Fang Chang continued to speak with effortless eloquence.
"As I mentioned earlier, Cr is a decentralized currency pegged to the total credit of society, and the Bugra dollar is in fact the same. However, there's one key difference: in Bugra, the 'quantitative standard of total social credit' is not decentralized at all. In fact, it is concentrated in the hands of a tiny group of people to an even more extreme degree than traditional currencies—or even primitive precious-metal money... If you can't grasp the concept, think of it as the pen used to sign the bill whenever you eat, drink, and swipe your card."
"Are you saying the way they used it was wrong?" Dolly keenly picked up on the crux of the matter, her eyes widening in surprise and delight.
Hearing this, Fang Chang didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Look at you. After everything I said, you're still debating right and wrong—hiss! Hey, don't use your teeth!"
Halfway through his sentence, Dolly had already pounced in flustered indignation, claws bared, and sank her teeth into his arm.
She had been genuinely pondering this baffling question and earnestly asking for guidance, yet this guy kept interrupting to flaunt his intellectual superiority.
He was great in every other way, except for this annoying trait.
So what if he was just a tiny bit smarter? What was the big deal!
Wasn't he still... wasn't he still... In any case, there were plenty of times she sat on his head and pinned him under her heels!
Still, seeing him grimacing in apparent agony, she involuntarily lessened her bite, blushing as she released his arm, which was now marked with neat rows of tooth indentations.
"Who told you to always speak in riddles... Can't you just properly answer my questions?"
In truth, Fang Chang hadn't felt any pain at all. After all, players couldn't feel pain beyond the set threshold, and in fact, it even felt a bit... Well, saying it out loud would sound perverted.
Out of gentlemanly courtesy, he rubbed the tooth marks on his arm anyway, putting on a properly intimidated act.
"Ahem, wasn't I answering properly? ...You keep harping on right and wrong, and I'm just trying to correct that mindset. How do you know the Flint Group didn't do that on purpose?"
Dolly stared at him blankly. "...On purpose?"
"Is the Flint Group going bankrupt, or are the people in the Free State starving to death? Their economy isn't worse than ours. When we were still learning to walk, they were already running. We laugh at them for having to watch thirty seconds of ads just to open a refrigerator door; for all we know, they might be laughing at us for not even having refrigerators."
In all honesty, if war truly broke out with Bugra, even if they didn't bring the Great Rift Valley into it, the Alliance would have to exert considerable effort to defeat them in conventional warfare without resorting to strategic weapons first.
At the very least, they would have to be prepared to sacrifice Daybreak City.
Looking at the northern front alone, the combat capability of the Hound Special Forces wasn't much inferior to the 100th Mountain Division. Their equipment might be slightly behind, but the quality of their personnel was noticeably higher.
The Alliance and Bugra had engaged in minor border skirmishes before, but neither side deployed main forces, instead testing each other with extreme caution.
In one instance he recalled, the Alliance had deployed bionics from Camp 101—which hadn't belonged to the Alliance at the time—while Bugra had sent a third-rate mercenary group secretly hired by Wilante officers.
Looking back, that friction was effectively a contest between the Manager and Sigma, as well as a probe of each other's bottom line.
Sigma had accurately perceived that the Alliance's weakness lay in its "weak border control and difficulty in identifying paramilitary forces disguised as vagrants," while Chu Guang had delivered a potent response targeting the Free State's pain point: "formidable, unrestrained individuals pose a massive hazard to the Free State's illusion of freedom."
A single bionic could slaughter a hundred-man unit. If a hundred bionics, or a hundred Awakened who were even more troublesome than bionics, infiltrated the Free State...
To Sigma, that deterrent was far greater than squarely wiping out a hundred-man company on an open battlefield with regular forces. That was the real reason both sides had maintained a tacit understanding to keep the scale of their clashes under control.
The NPCs in this game were just like real people. The deeper one thought about it, the truer it seemed; it wasn't the first time he had felt that way.
Pausing, Fang Chang looked at the half-understanding Dolly and continued concisely.
"...So when you debate whether they are right or wrong, good or bad, you've already walked into a blind alley. A gun is faster than a knife, and among guns there are faster guns, but that doesn't mean a gun peels an apple better than a fruit knife.
"Returning to your original question, I can tell you that chips are neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong; they are simply a tool. Those who hold the tool use it according to their own understanding... including those who issue chips and those who spend them. Nothing more.
"As for why chips didn't turn out like silver coins, it's because the guy who propped up the chips wanted this very outcome from the beginning. He accomplished what he set out to do; whether he ended up playing himself or not is a different story."
Bugra was the same. A series of tools, including the Bugra dollar and the board-of-directors framework, were designed after Ideal City. Like the vast majority of wastelanders, they envied Ideal City's prosperity to the extreme.
As for the rest of Ideal City, they thought they understood it well, but in reality, they didn't know the first thing about it.
This led directly to Bugra's cyberpunk-style society: ultra-high technology and rock-bottom living standards coexisting in the same settlement, where everyone was like a hamster running on a tightrope.
There were similarities with the Science Committee, yet it was fundamentally different.
It was said that the Social Research Section of the Alliance's Scientific Expedition had launched research projects to analyze these phenomena, including the Alliance's own current sociological dynamics.
However, that was a long-term endeavor requiring sustained observation; expecting immediate conclusions about the present was unrealistic.
Having reached this point, he couldn't resist teasing the still-dazed Dolly once more, infuriating her until she was red in the face and flailing her arms.
"...Just like the vendor who sold you the succulent. He wasn't doing it for your health, nor did he give a damn about radiation; he just wanted the silver coins in your pocket. The only difference is that some people realize it, while others don't... Hiss! Don't bite at random!"
Seeing Dolly leap onto the table like a cat, Fang Chang hastily moved his unfinished coffee aside, terrified she might get scalded.
Yet because he lost the use of one hand doing so, he quickly succumbed to Dolly's assault.
Only when the romping in the room finally subsided did Dolly, red-faced and panting, notice the crumpled newspaper on the table.
"Is this the Survivor Daily?" An expression of surprise crossed her face, especially when she noticed that the layout differed from Dawn City's Survivor Daily.
Smoothing the newspaper flat, Fang Chang smiled faintly.
"The Golden Gallon Port branch edition... More and more survivors are standing on the same front as us, and occasionally some eye-catching articles appear in it."
He spent long periods away from Golden Gallon Port and needed local newspapers to keep up with developments there.
He hadn't expected that in just a few months, a port once teeming with slaves and utterly devoid of hope could unleash such an earth-shaking roar. It truly astonished him.
Perhaps with a little more time, they might truly catch the ship to the new world.
In fact, besides providing funds, he had helped train local talent.
For example, Yodu, who served as a secretary in the Governor's Office, was a capable moderate reformist.
Then there was Laxi, director of the Civil Defense Office: bold, decisive, and receptive to new ideas. Although a bit rough around the edges in speech and conduct, that was no major flaw. And objectively speaking, a share of Golden Gallon Port's successful transformation belonged to him.
After all, nothing terrified the old aristocracy more than a Moon Clan member with a gun in hand—especially since the man was ruthless toward both outsiders and his own people.
To survive, those old nobles fawned on the Alliance even more desperately than the new emerging class.
After all, they were afraid—afraid that if they whined too much, the Alliance would simply turn a blind eye. The Alliance people were reasonable and disciplined, but the hound kept by the Alliance clearly was not.
The man had real potential; polishing his temperament in an office setting was a good move.
No matter what grand ambition he harbored, he shouldn't wear his thoughts on his face.
That was a fundamental rule of politics.
If he couldn't master that, he was destined to be nothing more than the top dog of a militia regiment for the rest of his life.
"'Red Soil'... This piece is really well-written. It doesn't look like the work of someone who just learned how to write." Having read the article from beginning to end, Dolly's face showed growing astonishment, even delight.
Perhaps Dawn City's Survivor Daily could reprint this article as well.
No—
This didn't seem like a standalone article; it read more like the prologue to an extensive anthology.
As one of the earliest staff members of the Survivor Daily and the editor who had unearthed that literary gem, Awakened Boer, she keenly sensed that this anthology titled Red Soil possessed potential no less than its predecessor.
The suffering survivors across this wasteland weren't just Boer in Boulder City, but also L in White Elephant City!
She heard the soul-stirring cry, and she believed others would hear it too—especially the members of the Workers' Association who had lived through that great transformation!
They had ended the wasteland around themselves, but the wider wasteland had not yet come to an end.
She believed the companions who had united back then wouldn't be satisfied merely with today's pork ribs and beer; they would surely be willing to lend a helping hand to those who suffered just as they had!
At least some of them would!
Like Sberg and the others.
"I want to write a special column for it!" Dolly said, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Fang Chang. "More people ought to hear the voices from that place, instead of just enjoying the cheap goods those survivors supply us with... No, to be precise, this is for our own sake too. If we let slaveholders continue exploiting them, our interests will eventually be harmed as well, right? When that happens, silver coins will turn into just another kind of chip, just like you were saying."
As she spoke, Dolly gazed intently at Fang Chang, looking so clever that she seemed completely different from the silly, adorable girl of an hour ago.
He could only marvel: as expected of someone from Boulder City, born with a rebellious bone in her nose. Saying something like that in Dawn City to anyone other than a resident of Vault 404 would get her whole family cursed out.
Fang Chang smiled faintly without disputing her words.
"Congratulations. While most people are still stuck on the previous version, you've already patched into the next. What I mean is... the issue you pointed out genuinely exists, and it's precisely what we plan to address in the next phase.
"Long before the Era of Prosperity, the industrial age already proved that one-sided bloodsucking is unsustainable. Unequal relationships will ultimately collapse once they reach a tipping point—whether between individuals or between settlements. The series of measures we adopted for specific periods can only postpone that tipping point, buying room for more flexible decisions.
"Ultimately, we have only two choices. We can either establish a sanctuary like Singularity City, cordoning Brahma Province off from mainstream society to observe and wait for new developments, or we can push them aboard the ship to the new world, joining us in deliberating the grand agenda of ending the Wasteland Era."
His plan for Golden Gallon Port was a "secondary industry base," with Brahma Province supplying human resources and minerals. But if it could transform into a vast consumer market, he would be equally delighted to see it.
Not only would that benefit Baiyue Company, but he also didn't want to stand in opposition to the Alliance's other settlements and survivors.
The Slime Mold Community's war in Haiya Province was, in fact, masking certain underlying issues.
Daybreak City and Boulder City were gorging themselves on orders for munitions and logistics alone; the entire Slime Mold Community was wiring funds to settlements in River Valley Province, and River Valley residents could use that money to purchase consumer goods from other regions.
Once the war ended, or the Alliance's expansion slowed, or a new crisis erupted, issues previously shelved would inevitably surface.
The Manager had likely taken this into consideration when choosing to approve Baiyue Company's IPO at this juncture.
And as a Tier 0 player on the server, he had to ensure his faction's boss had cards to play.
Pondering this, Fang Chang suddenly said with a smile:
"It seems you're not the only one who thinks this piece is well-written. I feel the same way... What do you think about including it in the textbooks for Golden Gallon Port?"
"That's a great idea!" Dolly's eyes sparkled, her voice pleasant as a lark's as she went on, "Compared to the textbooks we hand them, their own stories will resonate far more with their compatriots. They need their own symbols and totems!"
"Haha, then let's do it!"
In just a few seconds, Fang Chang settled the matter.
That evening, after finishing the report Xiao Yu required, he took time to wire a telegram to the Governor's Office in Golden Gallon Port, instructing them to incorporate Red Soil into the local textbooks.
It was no longer like when the Burning Corps had first landed in Golden Gallon Port, when a combat dispatch took two to three days to reach Dawn City, and by the time a message went back and forth, the battle was already over.
Information infrastructure was part of general infrastructure; the Alliance's communications base stations had always advanced hand in hand with its roads and railways. By deploying multiple relay stations, telegrams from Dawn City could now bypass interference and reach Golden Gallon Port directly.
Once undersea cables were laid, making phone calls or even video calls would be no problem at all.
Before long, he received a reply telegram from Yodu, secretary to the governor.
To Fang Chang's surprise, however, the response wasn't just about localized textbooks; it also mentioned Laxi.
[...The Golden Gallon Port Educators' Association is currently organizing public school teachers to compile textbooks that meet the needs of local survivors. They have already noticed the articles appearing in the Survivor Daily. Beyond Red Soil, several other pieces have been recommended by local and external teachers alike. I will continue to keep you updated on the progress of this work.
Additionally, there is another matter. Influenced by the Expeditionary Army's series of abysmal performances at Ten Peaks Mountain, the youth of Golden Gallon Port were outraged upon learning that the Empire intends to send even more cannon fodder to the front line, despising the Empire's conduct. Recently, representatives from various sectors have submitted petitions urging the Golden Gallon authorities to refuse the repatriation of Gray Wolf Army prisoners of war, or at least allow those willing to remain to stay... They fear the young men we release will simply be treated as consumables sent to the front line by the Empire in exchange for compensation.
Outrage has not only swept through civic circles, but within the administration as well. Laxi, director of the Civil Defense Office, submitted his letter of resignation this morning, along with nearly thirty middle- and junior-ranking officers of the militia regiment. I urged them to reconsider, but their minds are set. Having no authority to resolve this, I can only report the matter to you for your decision.]
He resigned?!
Fang Chang hadn't expected the guy to have such a temper. He was genuinely taken aback, stunned for a long while.
The resignation letter was appended below the telegram. Without pausing, he read on down the wire.
Although what was printed here wasn't the original, he trusted that Yodu wouldn't deceive him on a matter of this magnitude.
[
Respected Mr. Fang Chang:
I am deeply grateful for your promotion; without you, I would not be who I am today. Please also extend my greetings to the Manager on my behalf; I know he has always cared for the affairs of the wasteland and watches over us.
However, I am merely a rough man. Though I can read a few words, I cannot speak pretty phrases, but I trust you know of my unwavering loyalty; every order you gave, I carried out to the letter.
Submitting this resignation now is truly an act of helplessness, all because those bastards in the north are utterly disgraceful!
I resent their lack of backbone in squandering the money and provisions you sponsored; I resent their pathetic cowardice that has made them a laughingstock across the Polo Sea and beyond; and most of all, I resent how they squander the lives of my compatriots!
When the day comes that the tribes of Xilan lose all hope, the survivors of Brahma Province will never have a chance to rise again. While it is not yet too late, while the resistance's fortune has not entirely run dry, I must take the field!
If you consider me reckless, with just one word from you, I will gladly offer my life back to you, and never cause you trouble. If you are willing to let me march north to save our people, once I succeed in the future, I will never forget your kindness! I, Laxi, will forever be your subordinate. If you tell me to go east, I will never turn west!
]
Reading the resignation letter over twice, Fang Chang couldn't say a single word for a long time, finally managing only an astonished: "Holy crap."
Did that guy actually write this himself?!
Chapter 767