This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 1198 of 1205

Chapter 613.1: Singularity City Again

Chapter 613.1: Singularity City Again

Near the Old Settlement site’s metro station.

Two stooped Mutant Humans stood at the entrance, flanked by five young fighters. They held white flags, staring nervously at the armored vehicles and mounted machine guns not far away, faces full of dread.

The two old ones were priests of the Qi Tribe. One was Gomo, the other named Henk, a representative of the Ancestor faction.

Unlike the secular faction, the Ancestor faction were the earliest Mutant Humans of Singularity City. Their views were radical compared to the city 150 years ago, but by today’s Qi Tribe standards, they were conservative to the point of regression.

Rather than hunting humans as prey, they preferred to pen the farm-born ones as livestock, while enslaving the remaining freemen.

After all, most farm lords on the land did the same. Villages like Hope Town, with more than half of their men who were free, were rare.

They even opposed cannibalism, arguing there were more efficient food sources, and had once promised non-Mutant Humans they wouldn’t turn them into pies... though that promise meant nothing, since the moment they won, the unwilling had already lost all rights.

Without outside intervention, any conservative faction ages out over time. The Qi Tribe was no exception.

Though the Ancestors still held technical knowledge, like midwifery, they couldn’t stop new generations from rising or the secular faction, focused on Mutant Humans rights, from gaining power.

But now, every warrior who had been named by Gaen had died. All that remained were the old, the weak, and boys barely old enough to snore.

Thus, the Ancestor faction regained influence, ironically.

“... It’s useless. They won’t spare us,” Gomo sighed at Henk’s hope for talks.

Escaping before the fog cleared still offered a chance to live. Believing humans would spare them was naive.

But when he spoke, Henk shot him a furious glare. “Shut up! If not for that reckless fool Gaen and lunatics like you, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

Gomo obeyed, closing his mouth and clouded eyes. At that point, words meant nothing.

He wondered if Henk had forgotten how they once forced the rest to choose to become Mutant Humans willingly, or livestock.

Once that road was chosen, there was no return.

The New Alliance seemed to have decided.

A senior officer walked to the front, whispered to a commander in an exoskeleton.

The officer nodded, watched him leave, then pulled a cigarette, lighting it calmly.

Henk felt a chill running up his spine.

What decision required a smoke first?

He hurried forward, panicking at the raised rifles, shouting, “Wait! You don’t understand, we were humans once! We worked for the same cause! Things went wrong here, but not all our fault. For the sake of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, spare us! We’ll accept any arrangement, please!”

He tossed aside all dignity to survive. The young Mutant Humans behind him gasped, eyes torn between hate and shame.

The officer ignored them, smoked the cigarette to the butt, crushed it under his heel, then waved his hand impatiently.

“Fire.”

He had given them the time it took to smoke to pick up their weapons. Since they hadn’t, they could die.

Negotiate?

What was there to negotiate with beasts?

The Chimeras spat flames. Tracers tore through Gomo, turning the old Mutant Human to pulp before he hit the ground.

Next came Henk, kneeling, and the few defiant younglings.

The fight ended quickly.

With the cutscene over, players who had been itching to move charged in, weapons raised, starting the final purge.

Their VM task panel was clear.

[Mission:

Leave no Qi Tribe survivor alive

]

That had been their intent anyway, especially after witnessing the beasts’ atrocities.

“Worked for the same cause, my ass.” One player kicked the ruined corpse, spat on it coldly, and marched forward with a rifle in hand...

...

While the players advanced from the entrances of the subway system underground, the New Alliance First Corps 1st Company reached the city’s eastern outskirts.

To resettle survivors freed from the Qi Tribe and Torch Church rule, Pinecone Ranch would be expanded and renamed as Singularity City.

There was already a working Spirit Interference Device there, useful to reintegrate the penned victims.

By Chu Guang’s deal with Frost, Frost would manage the city. The New Alliance would handle defense and security.

Until locals broke their Na Fruit addiction and regained the ability to think for themselves, Chu Guang wouldn’t incorporate Singularity City as the New Alliance’s sixth settlement. Cooperation would follow the model of Sunset Province’s vassal states.

The Enterprise and the Academy pressed for immediate takeover, but Chu Guang refused.

The Academy’s aims were murky, and they had their shitty backroom politics. The Highest Council’s plan was bare for Chu Guang to see.

If the New Alliance absorbed Singularity City, it would turn into their internal problem and the Highest Council could dodge all blame from a century ago, even making Frost Chu Guang’s subordinate. When that happened, any fallout would land on him.

Chu Guang wouldn’t spend New Alliance citizens’ labor to atone for the past mistakes of those assholes out there.

Only by uniting his people could he unite others. Sacrificing his people for the peace of others would never last.

After all, both patron and dependent know free favors could never endure the test of time.

What won’t last didn’t need to be maintained...

At the north gate of Pinecone Ranch.

The new Singularity City sign had barely gone up when a black mass approached. They were refugees in a snaking line.

Some carried bulging packs, others drove ox-carts. They came from Hope Town, looking like fugitives.

The guard on duty was Captain Zheng Liushu. Seeing them, he stepped forward.

Before he asked, Mayor Ma Hechang of Hope Town confessed, clutching his arm and weeping about the persecutions of the Torch Church and the Qi Tribe.

“... Hope Town’s soil grows nothing now! We heard you shelter the oppressed, please take us in!” Ma Hechang wasn’t telling the whole truth. Yes, the land was ruined, but only Old Master Kong’s farm and a few peasants actually tilled the soil.

They were clearly trying to take advantage of the situation.

The fog had lifted and the cannons were silent. Anyone could see the New Alliance had won, becoming the new rulers.

Unlike the Torch Church, who left plantations, the New Alliance planned to rebuild Singularity City and restore the land.

However, Hope Town lay far. When aid arrived was uncertain. Worse, if accused as collaborators, trials might follow. It was best to pledge loyalty now.

Ma Hechang also had no choice. He himself was addicted to Na Fruit. If banned, even if he managed to endure the pain, his townsfolk might not.

Hope Town was rotting. Before it collapsed, striking a deal with the new lords was the best thing they could do.

Convincing his townsfolk hadn’t been easy. It took all his effort.

Zheng Liushu listened, headache rising, then waved them through.

The administrator’s order was clear, anyone needing refuge was welcome. Anyone who left would not be taken back.

Perhaps, once they got tired of life in the city, they would leave on their own.

“Think carefully before entering. This city is AI-managed, meant to help survivors regain self-sufficiency and kick off Na Fruit addiction. If you can do it alone, you don’t need to come.”

At that, some hesitated. After a while, a hand rose. “Do they feed us?”

Zheng Liushu nodded. “Yes, but you will need to work.”

Another asked, “Does we need to pay?”

“No.”

Hearing the answer, their expressions eased. They filed toward their new home.

But Ma Hechang lingered, clutching a burlap-wrapped bundle, smiling obsequiously.

Zheng Liushu disliked him. He heard Hope Town had collaborated with the Torch Church.

Still, he asked formally, “Is something else the matter?”

Ma Hechang nodded quickly. “Yes, sir! I’ve a gift for you!”

Zheng Liushu stiffened, stepping back.

“I don’t take bribes. Put it away.”

“No, this you must take.” Ma Hechang insisted, unwrapping the bundle.

Inside was a bloody head.

Zheng Liushu froze, and the soldiers around him too.

With his brows furrowed, he asked coldly, “... What’s this supposed to mean?”

Ma Hechang wiped the blood from it, stammering, “Sir, it’s a Mutant Human child.”

Zheng Liushu frowned deeper. “How do you have a Mutant Human child?”

Ma Hechang explained nervously, “It’s a half-breed... Sometimes Mutant Human offspring inherit more human traits, like a mule from horse and donkey. We let it trade with us before, but now things are different, we’ve cut ties with them.”

His point was really just that last line. However, the head was too shocking. He overplayed it.

“... Fine. We understand.”

Zheng Liushu gave a nod to the soldiers beside him. “Bury it.”

The locals’ hatred toward Mutant Humans wasn’t for him to judge. They had the right to do it. Also, he had no interest in distinguishing half-bloods.

The thing was rotten and it was likely dead for days.

A soldier took it.