Chapter 567.2: Two Paths

Seeing that response, Garbage almost spat a mouthful of old blood onto his screen.

Midnight Pubg had indeed said that back then, but he had thought the guy was just posturing and hadn’t taken it to heart.

Turned out the quest really was that disgusting?!

Thinking Garbage didn’t believe him, Midnight Pubg kept typing.

Midnight Pubg: Boulder Town Arms Industry’s side quest, Fight 20 VS 100 and see how many Mutant Humans you can kill. Comes with freebie quest gear. I was going to save it for later, but the timing was perfect... anyway, we got a S+ rating. The payout’s pretty good.

Makka Pakka: Hahahaha!

Irene: Garbage: turns out the sucker was me all along. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Elf Wang: Oof. If I were Garbage, I’d be crying in the bathroom by now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Garbage: I fuck... FUCK ME!

Midnight Pubg: ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و✧*｡

Escaping Mole: Gotta say, losing that gear really hurt. Even I felt the sting watching it. I think we could add an insurance feature, like in

EVE Online

where you get back a percentage of in game cash (ISK) when your ship pops. If an exoskeleton blows, refund 60% or 70% of the silver coins spent on it! Standard assault rifles and such don’t need to be insured.

Irene: Then here’s the question... Given how often players break their gear, what percentage of the item’s total price should the premium be? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Escaping Mole: Uh, that is indeed a problem.

If the premium was too high, insurance lost its meaning. If it was too low, with Wasteland Online’s near-simulated economy, the New Alliance could go bankrupt.

He had always been interested in running a private insurance business. But with a business that literally bet against obvious risks, every way he ran the numbers ended in bankruptcy.

After all, he knew better than anyone how reckless players were... He was a player himself...

...

While the forum was devolving into a thousand voices talking past each other, the nearly 300 households of Dust Town and the Burning Corps finally reached the mountainous area at the border between the River Valley Province and the Brocade River Province.

The terrain there was treacherous: only a winding mountain road to the south, and to the north a river 50 to 60 meters wide with sheer rock faces standing in the water. In the middle stood a bridge built in the Federation Era.

Though the roads on both sides had been mostly erased by the years, the nameless bridge still stood structurally intact, only leaning a little askew.

That was probably caused by subsidence beneath a pier.

On the wasteland, however, the dangerous bridge did not matter.

It was already one of the few passable routes.

New Alliance supply trucks were parked at the bridgehead. Burning Corps players were busy unloading materials and, together with the logistics personnel, building out the forward operating base.

Before watchtowers and machine-gun emplacements, they needed to widen the road at the bridgehead to move ammunition and weapons through smoothly.

Given the current situation, even turning a truck around was hard.

Just looking at the road on the far side of the bridge, Night Ten really didn’t know whether to admire these folks’ driving skills or the New Alliance’s factories.

If they could drive trucks through that, they could probably pass a real-world Class A commercial driving test.

"Long time no see! Where’s Garbage kun? Face-planted again?"

Grinning, Peepo strolled up to greet Old White and company, then spotted the mass of people behind them. Surprise spread across his face.

He wasn’t the only surprised one.

The survivors of Dust Town took one look at his pot-lid-sized fists and jumped. A few timid kids hid behind their parents and some of the younger ones even burst into tears.

Peepo looked mortified.

He couldn’t figure it out. No matter what, he wasn’t scarier than Garbage. Why did every NPC who saw him act like they had seen a ghost?

Still, so as not to scare the kids, he made a show of hiding his two big fists behind him and whispered to Old White, "Why did so many people come?"

Old White gave a helpless shrug and was about to explain when Night Ten beat him to it. "They’re all Garbage’s believers."

"Pfft..."

Kidney Warrior raised an eyebrow. "Believers?!"

"In short, it was basically as Night Ten said. Garbage asked us to take care of them," Old White continued succinctly. "Besides, the ones across from us are Mutant Humans. Even without Garbage’s request, we couldn’t just leave them alone."

"That’s true..." Peepo nodded in agreement.

Mutant Humans weren’t people.

It was a dumb line, but it fit their deeds perfectly. Compared to mutant tribes, even marauder clans were small fry.

Old White had already reported Dust Town’s situation to the administrator.

Although the New Alliance did not have the bandwidth to care for a group of refugees 700 kilometers away, especially with both Dawn City and Boulder Town preparing for the Tide, that benevolent lord still said he would send people from the House of Refugees to settle them down.

At that moment, Dust Town’s mayor approached.

An elderly man, with a young fellow in tow. Both looked like they had something to say.

Seeing the pair, Old White asked gently, "Is there something you need?"

Qin Baitian did not speak, but first bowed respectfully. Just as Old White was surprised, the old man raised his head and said earnestly, "Thank you for saving us again and again. I know we can’t repay your kindness even with our lives. At the very least, we don’t want to become your burden and make the Great Stag God and the Giant Rat God feel ashamed of us... If there is anything people like us can help with, please do not hesitate to tell me. I will pass the word to the townsfolk."

The young fellow beside Qin Baitian nodded hard, then said firmly, "Please give us a chance... we want to help you do something!"

Months ago, because of an accident, he had eaten Na Fruit and nearly caused the entire village to fall to that green plague.

The Great Stag God had forgiven and saved him.

That lord not only pardoned the sin he had committed in ignorance, but also bestowed precious medicine that carried him through the worst days.

He had finally recovered. Ever since, he had vowed to devote his life to serving that lord.

Seeing the resolve in their eyes, Old White was silent for a moment. He swallowed the words that were about to leave his lips and instead said, "We plan to build a supply outpost here, and in the future construct a railway from Clearspring City to this place."

"If you want to help, start by registering willing helpers. Able-bodied men and women aged 16 to 40. I’ll send the list to logistics so they can assign work. You’ll also get paid. It’s usually not much, just the minimum standard."

"This is too much. We can’t take your money when you’ve helped us so much..." Qin Baitian tried to refuse in embarrassment, but Old White raised a hand to stop him.

"The New Alliance never lets anyone work for free. If you work, you must be paid. That’s the law everyone must follow. I hope you understand. Just as you want to do something for us, we likewise don’t want you bringing your own rations to work for us."

Qin Baitian blinked.

It wasn’t the insistence on pay that stunned him, but the very first words.

"The New Alliance is..."

"It’s the same New Alliance in the southern River Valley Province. We never had the chance to tell you. We don’t have an Emperor, only an administrator. That lizard is one of us, the rat too, and the person with them as well. We’re all residents of Shelter 404..."

Seeing the two of them look completely lost, Old White guessed they probably couldn’t even place River Valley Province, so he stopped with a wry smile.

"Too hard to grasp? Just think of it as... a collective made up of many very large settlements."

Qin Baitian hadn’t yet processed this when the young man blurted, dazed, "Is it like Pinecone Ranch?"

"Pinecone Ranch? We’re definitely bigger than a farm..." Old White took it to mean a place like Brown Farm, and shook his head with a smile.

But to his surprise, when the young man heard that, his face showed shock. "Bigger than Pinecone Ranch..."

Curious, Night Ten chimed in, "What is that place?"

Qin Baitian explained slowly, "A settlement with more than 50,000 people, a bit east of the city ruins. It’s quite far from us, but still within the Brocade Lake Municipality. The owner there is someone surnamed Zhao, I think. He has quite a few soldiers under him."

Night Ten and Gale exchanged a look. Ample Time, who had been silent, rubbed his chin, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Dust Town was the last settlement not polluted by Na Fruit... In other words, Pinecone Ranch is probably Torch Church territory now?"

A thought flickered in Ample Time’s mind, and he asked Qin Baitian, "Are there any settlements in the Brocade Lake Municipality larger than Pinecone Ranch?"

Qin Baitian thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don’t think so. As I recall, that farm was formed by merging several settlements. If I remember right, when I was a child, there were three or four farms there..."

Ample Time pressed on, "Have you been there yourself?"

Qin Baitian shook his head, a hint of dread in his eyes. "I wouldn’t dare go there... I heard some of the slave owners around here are actually Lord Zhao’s guards. Besides scavenging and hunting, we usually don’t dare stray far from our settlements. The former mayor supposedly had some connections with Pinecone Ranch, but many things have happened since... If you’re curious about the situation there, I can ask the town’s hunters for you."

Ample Time nodded. "

Mm

. Thank you."

They were the New Alliance’s advance party to the south and had just arrived. They still knew too little about the local scene.

He needed more information.

Whether for the secret hidden in the Champion Biopharmaceutical Research Institute, or to find the Sanctuary and the Archbishop hiding within.

As the region’s largest survivor settlement, Pinecone Ranch might be a good entry point.

And there was also the Iron Tower organization.

Ample Time looked to Old White. "By the way, what’s the administrator’s position on the Iron Tower organization?"

Old White quickly snapped back to reality. "His suggestion is that we can cooperate with local resistance groups, but we must be wary that such loosely structured organizations are prone to infiltration. The people we met may be safe, but others get a question mark."

Ample Time shot Old White a surprised glance.

Honestly, that was what he had thought as well.

The raid the night before had been indistinguishable from suicide. It didn’t seem to be attacking the enemy, but a suicide mission. In fact that was exactly what it was. The cybernetic Mutant Human they faced was no joke.

If Night Ten hadn’t pulled the aggro, that guy called Li Jinrong and his men would have been doomed.

What surprised Ample Time was that he himself saw that because he had been on the scene. He had personally saved that man.

Yet their faction boss had thought of it too, just reading a situation report from 800 kilometers away.

Ample Time truly thought that their faction boss was truly impressive.

"... Indeed, the Iron Tower’s ranks may include Torch Church informants. We can’t fully trust them. Conversely, we can exploit that, use them to pass false intel to our enemies, and make those enemies expose themselves."

"Good idea..." Old White nodded approval, then added, "But for now it’s all just our conjecture. It’s possible last night was just an accident, that possibility exists too."

Ample Time continued, "So we need to proceed on two tracks. On one side, keep engaging with them to identify who’s trustworthy and who isn’t. On the other side, follow the Pinecone Ranch’s trace, and trace out intel on the Sanctuary."

Old White nodded, speaking in earnest. "Alright. I’ll first find a way to get in touch with the Iron Tower then."