Chapter 604.1: The Survivors

Chapter 604.1: The Survivors

A wide, empty plaza lay ahead, with a wall at the entrance built from a mix of rebar, sheet metal, and wooden stakes. The heavy gate was shut tight, and the watchtowers to either side stood deserted.

The Mutant Humans there had retreated in a hurry, leaving equipment behind and everything was scattered everywhere.

Over 20 Chimeras lined up outside, while a dozen players with satchel charges jogged forward, placing the explosives at the base of the wall.

Once the team pulled back, Sideline Slacking shouted the order.

“Detonate!”

One player gripped the detonator, and a string of orange fireballs erupted along the wall.

Together with the ramshackle gatehouse, the barricade of scrap was blasted apart in seconds.

“Advance!”

With nothing stopping them, the commanders gave the order.

Engines roared to life as Chimeras rolled in with rifle-bearing players swarming at their flanks, marching straight into the camp of sin.

From the turret hatch, Escaping Mole gripped the rim and barked, “Search every corner. Don’t let a single Mutant Human slip away! We take no prisoners. Kill on sight!”

A chorus of voices answered in unison.

“Roger!”

The Skeleton Corps weren’t the only ones who were present. The Jungle Corps were right beside them.

Midnight Pubg led at the front like a devil risen from hell, his steel shell caked with flesh and blood, the chainsaw in his left arm still whining.

If Chimera kills weren’t counted, he likely had the highest kill count of anyone from the New Alliance.

From day one, he had been present mowing down the green-skinned freaks, far earlier than most.

Second to him was only Garbage kun.

The gray fog gave his melee style the perfect cover. If Mutant Human skin wasn’t so tough, and if some mechanical augmented brutes weren’t melee specialists too, his count would’ve been even higher.

Once inside the tribe, everyone advanced cautiously.

They were in the Qi Tribe’s territory. No one dared relax.

Mutant Human stragglers still lurked, striking from time to time. Worse, the horrific sights around them gnawed at every shred of human conscience, leaving even hardened players clenching their teeth.

This place had once been a settlement site during the Three Year War.

Two centuries ago, it housed tens of thousands temporarily.

Now... It was hell.

On wooden racks hung dried meat, human hides stretched to cure, and countless artifacts made from bone. Seeing it, Me Quiet’s stomach lurched.

He hadn’t played long, but he had lived through the Sunset Province campaign. He thought he had seen brutality.

But compared to the pure evil in front of him, that was nothing.

The Wislanders might scorn other races, but they didn’t kill just for the sake of it.

Mutant Humans were different.

To them, old humanity was livestock. Prisoners went into boiling oil, their bones turned into utensils, blood rituals created to flaunt their superiority.

The screams of prey were music to their ears, and they borrowed plenty of torture techniques straight from human history.

When Me Quiet saw a body nailed to stone and its belly slit open, he gagged. “... Fuck! Are these even things someone can do?!”

Garbage kept his face steady. Though shaken, he only twitched at the sight. He didn’t retch.

Make Me sighed, “If this ever hit the official forums, it will all be censored.”

Garbage gave a dry cough. “Based on past experience, it might not even upload.”

Past experience?

Me Quiet snapped his head around, staring wide-eyed.

“The hell, bro, what’s in your gallery?”

𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Garbage coughed again. “It’s a secret.”

Truth was, he didn’t keep gore shots. His albums were mostly of his own heroic melee moments, though some frames crossed into R18 territory.

That wasn’t the point.

According to the rules of Wasteland Online, grotesque photos couldn’t sync offline.

That was because VR dream immersion dulled senses. Players squeamish with needles on Earth might puke at blood in-game, but never faint.

Outside the dream, that protection vanished.

To protect mental health and prevent trauma, the developers censored synced photos, and even age-restricted some.

Not far from the slaughterhouse loomed a massive mall.

Shaped like a landbound cruise liner 12 stories tall, every floor spanned hundreds of thousands of square feet. The total area of the mall was over a million square feet, and one could easily imagine the scene back at its peak of glory.

Its builders had never imagined their masterpiece would become a Mutant Human pen for humans.

Crossing the north gate, a stench slammed into them. Elf Wang grimaced.

Before he could curse the smell, a gust whooshed and he ducked instinctively as a table flew past, shattering on the wall.

With the ambush foiled, a Mutant Human bellowed in rage and charged over with a cleaver.

Irene lifted his PU-9 SMG and sprayed a bunch of bullets into the creature.

Blood blossomed across its bare chest and it collapsed in two steps.

“Good lord, an ambush?”

Elf Wang cursed, brushing at the filth smeared on him, then froze at the stench clinging to his fingers.

He didn’t need to ask what it was.

“This place must be holding people... you okay?” Irene asked, watching him search.

“I’m fine...” He found a rag, wiped off the filth and coughed, “What is this place?”

“Obvious. It’s the Qi Tribe’s ranch.” He swapped mags and glanced up at the mall’s grand atrium. Escalators were replaced with wood ladders, pulley lifts for cargo rigged beside them.

Ignoring upper floors for now, the squad moved into the first-floor gallery.

What they saw burned into their minds forever.

Shopfront glass was replaced with iron bars. Behind them, emaciated figures stared with hollow eyes.

They had filthy hair and sunken cheeks, barely recognizable as humans.

At sight of soldiers, they recoiled like animals, faces etched with terror. All of them started to squeak.

“Don’t be afraid! We’re not Mutant Humans! We’re here to save you!” Elf Wang called in broken Federation language.

But they only panicked more.

Irene sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t bother. They might not even understand Federationese.”

Elf Wang froze. “Huh?”

“They weren’t captured. They were born here,” he paused, then added, “They are likely descendants of Singularity City.”

Elf Wang stared in disbelief, throat bobbing as he glanced at the cages.

It was unthinkable that people who once shared the heritage of glory now lived like livestock.

Feed troughs of green slurry linked cage to cage, pipes from an old nutrient paste synthesizer, rusted, obsolete, probably scavenged from Boulder Town.

The bars of the cages weren’t strong. Elf Wang wrenched one loose easily.

To his interference, the captives only shivered. There was no attempt to flee.

“How to handle them... that’s our administrator’s headache.” Irene scanned the hall. “Report to command first.”

Elf Wang was silent a long time, then muttered, “What about sending them to Pioneer City?”

“That’s an option.” He shrugged. “However... I think it’s not right to send them anywhere.”

These damned beasts.