Chapter 620.1: Shelter 100!

[DLZJ-1 naming vote results announced!]

[1. Death, 21%]

[2. Storm, 13%]

[3. Skeleton, 11%]

[4. Cheese Snow Leopard , 9%]

[5. Burning, 8%]

[...]

[According to the administrator’s decision, DLZJ-1’s official name will be: Ethereal.]

“So what was the point of this vote then?”

West Continent Municipality, 4th New District.

Standing beside the corpse of a mutant half a human tall, Darkest looked at the server announcement on his VM and couldn’t help but complain.

He had scrolled the voting thread for ages and never once saw the word Ethereal.

What a scam!

Ten Punch Man raised his hand in agreement. “Yeah. Why not Storm? That sounded badass!”

Kakarot clapped Darkest on the shoulder, grinning. “You don’t get it. Read the word in federation language split apart, read it twice.”

“Split apart? The hell?”

Muttering it a few times, Darkest suddenly froze, then shouted like discovering a new continent. “Holy crap, they’re using official business to flirt!”

Broken Leg Kevin yelled, “Reported!”

Ghostbuster chuckled, “Hahaha! Definitely report this to the developers! Our NPCs have no honor!”

“Eh, or maybe it’s not clear who’s flirting with who.” Listening to the squad’s jokes, Spring Water Commander giggled along before turning toward the subway entrance.

The sign blurred with grime hung with rotting algae leaves, like scraps of cabbage on a beast’s teeth. The nauseating stench wafted from the dark entrance, less like a subway station, more like a monster’s gaping maw.

The danger inside would be no less than the center of Clearspring City.

He racked his rifle, closed his helmet visor, and set his portable shield to standby mode.

Ready for anything, he spoke. “Enough chatter, get ready, we’re going in.”

The channel echoed with synchronized replies.

“Roger!”

...

The water in the 4th New District had already receded some time ago.

The New Alliance’s MW-class pumps, designed by Camp 101, had drained for nearly a week to clear the millions of cubic meters of water pressing above Shelter 100.

Perhaps as compensation for missing the server-wide event during their anti-marauder campaign, the developers let the Storm Corps handle the mission to recover Shelter 100.

Everyone knew shelters were the fattest loot caches, especially one that had been sealed for two centuries!

Beyond material rewards, opening a new shelter usually earned players a place in the Hall of Fame.

Not only that, all participants could leave their names forever etched in what would become a new starter town.

So Spring Water Commander had accepted the mission almost without hesitation.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even a task. It was a reward.

Still, reward or not, it was no easy job.

Marauders in the region were gone, but threats of mutated creatures remained. Especially in the 4th New District, drowned by the lake.

The area still swarmed with deadly arthropods.

To ensure success, Spring Water Commander had rallied 200 members to clear everything within 500 meters of the station entrance.

And a job 10 players could do, he crammed 32. Tactical flashlights turned the narrow station into daylight.

If the size of the battlefield allowed it, he would probably shove a thousand members inside!

After wiping out the Crackleclaw Crabs skittering under the stairs, Spring Water Commander tapped his helmet, giving orders.

“Team A, go with Darkest, push forward. Team B with Kakarot, provide firepower and guard Team A’s flank. Team C with me and guard the rear, watch for sneak attacks from the back. Move on my command.”

Replies filled the channel, along with Darkest’s complaint. “Shouldn’t the commander usually charge in front, rallying everyone around him?”

Spring Water Commander rolled his eyes. “Shut up, I’m a dog, I hide however I like. Go fuck yourself!”

“... Damn it!” Darkest swallowed back the insult on his tongue, muttering curses as he moved forward.

He still obeyed. Spring Water Commander’s commands had never failed before.

Perception types as vanguard... Made sense.

...

Inside the subway was even worse than outside.

It had soaked for a century and a half. West Continent Municipality itself was a mutant paradise, housing any strange creatures.

The lake didn’t flood suddenly. Instead, the water kept surging until the underground finally collapsed.

Abandoned clothes, sleeping bags, and supplies told the story. There were once survivors living there.

They trapped rats in cages, grew mushrooms on rotted boards, hid from storms and radioactive dust, and prayed through hopeless nights.

They weren’t Shelter 100 dwellers, but migrants heading north to the Great Rift Valley.

Back then, the “Wasteland Era” and “wastelanders” weren’t even terms yet.

Perhaps they’d hoped that Shelter 100’s doors might open, pity them, take them in.

But clearly, the doors never opened.

When Shelter 100 became dust in history, its gate remained sealed.

Boots squelched on damp concrete like whispers of the dead in a graveyard.

Darkest steadied his breath, sweeping corners with his rifle.

Water dripped from the ceiling onto floor, helmet, shoulders, chilling his bones.

Shadows creaked, tightening his nerves.

Even floodlights couldn’t reach every hiding spot.

His beam caught a toppled vending machine. A patch of rotten algae shimmered with rainbow colors.

“There’s something there!” He raised a fist to halt the squad, then crept closer.

As he leaned in, he locked eyes with a monstrous mask of colors.

The insect he was looking at stared back. A cluster of beady eyes packed its face, its jaws opening with rows of tiny teeth. Its back shell split, wings buzzing a sound that crawled under the skin.

“

Chchchch...

”

“Shit!” Startled, Darkest fired on instinct.

Gunfire shredded the basketball-sized beetle into a puddle of green-black fluid.

Team A rushed over and Spring Water Commander’s voice rang in their ears. “Darkest, report!”

“New mutant, looks like... a beetle?”

Fumbling with his helmet recorder, Darkest replayed the footage and shared it with the squad, stomach lurching.

But instead of disgust, the others admired it.

“Ugly but stylish.”

“Hell yeah.”

“The developers put in effort this time, new monsters aren’t just reskins this time.”

Listening to them, Darkest asked, baffled. “You guys don’t find it gross?”

His earnest face made the squad glance at each other, smirking.

“Now that you say it, yeah, it’s gross.”

“Yep. If this was real life, I would shit myself.”

“But it’s just a game, right?”

“Updating monster logs gives contribution points!”

“...”

Darkest blinked.

They... had a point?

Right, bugs in-game weren’t scary. They were weird, but weaker than mutated creatures.

Comforting himself, he took a deep breath to calm down.

Just then, Spring Water Commander’s voice came again. “Darkest, collect the sample.”

Darkest lost it. “What the hell, why don’t you do it?!”

Spring Water Commander coughed. “You’re closer. It’s your job.”

“God damn it!” Suppressing his gag reflex, Darkest scooped some tissue into a vial.

The green goo looked nasty.

Where had this species come from? Did they migrate over recently?

Spring Water Commander’s voice followed. “You spotted it first. Name it.”

“Call it Darkest’s Grandpa!”

“Haha, doubt the developers will approve. Think again, we only get one nomination.”

Darkest thought a moment. “Ghostface Bug?”

Spring Water Commander grunted. “Okay, that’s it!”

Unless it broke the sense of immersion, the developers rarely vetoed names of creatures.

The username of the player who found it would also enter the official lore alongside the species.

Naming 10 creatures unlocked a special title, and the next came when they named 100 creatures.