Chapter 552.1: It Will Be Better If You're All Dead Anyway

"... One Dove missile wiped out twelve targets, X-16 cleared 11 more, all in under a minute... If you can help me gather enough AI cores, I could even build you a full android unit. It will cost less than a million silver each. Think about it, won’t you?" Atop the giant wall, overlooking the slums, Eberts wore a gleeful, shit-eating grin as he chattered on.

Before, all he could do was stand on the wall and watch the organics tear each other apart from afar, at most selling them a few weapons they could barely afford.

But now, he could finally step onto the battlefield himself.

He was quite satisfied with his new owner. Earning profits for Boulder Town Arms Industry while watching the organic beings kill each other in imaginative ways were among his few joys in existence, and his primary purpose.

He didn’t share humanity’s messy desires. There was no need for consumption, reproduction, art, or philosophy. He had zero interest in the things humans used to distract themselves from their loneliness.

In the chaotic, crumbling alleys, shadows began to retreat, those gang members were utterly terrified by the sudden arrival of X-16 on the battlefield.

Their only heavy firepower consisted of a few Hornet rifles, and maybe a couple of cheap RPGs. Most had only handguns or homemade pipe rifles. They stood no chance against X-16.

None of them ever expected to face androids from Boulder Town Arms Industry.

In the memory of most gangsters, those in the towering wall never bothered to strike at the sewer rats like them, it simply wasn’t worth it.

They couldn’t understand why they of all people would be hit by a missile, nor could they grasp why the respected Mr. Eberts would waste such an expensive android on them.

Their combined lives weren’t even worth the last few zeroes of how much it took to build the android.

Human lives were far too short. So short that people began to take certain things for granted.

Almost no one remembered that, a century ago, Boulder Town had once struck at those very slums with an iron fist.

"Those little rats are retreating..." Eberts smiled, gazing down from the wall. "So? Have you made up your mind?"

He received no response.

After a long wait, Eberts turned around, only to find the person already gone. He paused in mild surprise, then laughed and shook his head. "Tsk. Impatient little fellow."

...

[Hidden Quest: Discover and Destroy the Gang Hideout (Completed)]

[Description:

The orphanage disguised as an abandoned building is actually a gang-run slave trafficking den.

]

[Reward:

300 Contribution Points, 1000 Regional Reputation, 599 Silver Coins

]

[New Quest Alert:

Investigate the orphanage basement and await New Alliance forces (In Progress)

]

In the dark, damp basement... Narrow corridors ran between crooked prison cells on both sides.

As the door creaked open and footsteps approached, rustling noises stirred within the cells. Faces pressed curiously against the bars, peeking out.

There were boys and girls. The oldest was around 16 or 17, and they were considered adults in the wasteland. The youngest wer barely children by any measure.

Unlike the brutal dungeons of marauder camps, the atmosphere there was different.

To ensure goods sold well, gangs usually didn’t abuse them.

According to Horaka’s confession, most of these children were orphans. Some were sold by their families, others rounded up by people like Miles.

Most folks in the slums knew about that place, but no one ever intervened. Even if it was right under their nose, not everyone crossed paths with it. And without gangs to maintain order, the slums might be even worse.

After all, they were in the wasteland.

Compared to starving or dying from disease, a few sold children barely registered. In fact, many prostitutes needed places like this to quietly deal with their accidents... or so Horaka had claimed to justify herself.

Holstering her weapon, Light Wind walked along the narrow corridor. From the corner of her eye, she saw a young face with round eyes watching her.

The girl looked about 11 or 12, wrapped in gray linen shaped into a dress.

Light Wind stopped, leaned down with her hands on her knees, and gave the girl a friendly smile. "What’s your name?"

Perhaps because Light Wind looked kind, the girl showed no fear and replied in a clear, sweet voice, "Citrus!"

"Citrus... What a pretty name."

Citrus smiled proudly, curling her lips. "

Uhhuh

! Big Sister Horaka gave it to me!"

"Big Sister Horaka... Is she the lady with the freckle by her nose?"

"Yeah!" Citrus nodded cheerfully. "I heard there used to be another Citrus, a big one, but she got adopted by a kind person, so the name was passed to me."

Clearly, she loved her name and didn’t resent Horaka at all. She even seemed to think of her as a mother.

Light Wind felt a twinge in her heart.

Maybe it was the way these NPCs felt more human than humans, the game always hit strangely real at unexpected moments.

"How long have you been living here?"

"A month... I think?" Citrus tilted her head, uncertain. No one really kept track of time, After all, people usually weren’t there for long.

She thinks?

As she recalled, Citrus continued in a small voice, "We used to live upstairs. Only kids who did something bad got sent here... Later, Big Sister Horaka said the bad people from the New Alliance were coming to take us away and eat us, but she told us not to be afraid, that she would protect us. She had us hide down here and stay quiet."

Hearing her innocent voice, Light Wind didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Bad people, huh...

Then again, it made sense.

There was no internet in the wasteland.

In faraway southern provinces or west of the Great Desert, maybe the New Alliance was considered evil.

Seeing the big sister stay silent, Citrus cautiously asked, "The basement is really stuffy... Do you know when the New Alliance will leave? Big sister, will you take me with you?"

She seemed to like Light Wind...

This big sister is pretty, and her clothes are pretty nice too.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Yeah! Big Sister Horaka said we’d all get adopted sooner or later, the sooner, the better. If we waited too long, things will get tricky. So when someone from outside comes, we have to be extra obedient!" Citrus’s eyes sparkled as she counted off on her fingers. "I can sweep, mop, clean windows, and wipe tables too!"

Watching her count so seriously, Light Wind’s heart ached, but she still smiled and praised her gently, "That’s amazing. Unlike me, I only know how to recite poetry."

"Poetry?" Citrus tilted her head.

"Mm!" Light Wind patted her on the head. "I’ll teach you once we’re out of here."

She knew tons of poems, way more than the few verses she had scratched into her aircraft for amusement.

Returning to the entrance of the basement...

Light Wind glanced at Horaka who was tied up beside a cage, and sighed, "You... Maybe you should go repent."

Horaka’s face was ashen. She immediately started to plead, "Don’t kill me... I told you everything! I was forced into this, if I didn’t work for Mr. Weast, I would have been sold to the marauders!"

"Save that story for the judge," Light Wind looked out the hallway window while mumbling.

At the courtyard gate, two wheeled armored vehicles had arrived. Their 20mm heavy machine guns gleamed under the gray sky. Well-trained soldiers secured the area with precision, sweeping for enemies house by house with support from small drones.

The vehicles bore the insignia of the First Corps.

Quite a few had come, at least a hundred.

Though their operations in Sunset Province focused on maintaining order in occupied zones, they participated in major battles when players couldn’t handle it.

As NPCs with only one life, they operated more like a professional military.

For a few gangs to challenge the New Alliance war machine... What were they thinking?

"... Looking at this scale, we might be in for a big event tonight," Light Wind muttered, excitement slowly rising in her eyes.