This Game Is Too Real-Chapter 758: The New Wind Blowing Toward the Wasteland

Chapter 758: Chapter 758: The New Wind Blowing Toward the Wasteland

The harsh, biting wind howled across the boundless tundra, and a furry vole poked its head out from a snowdrift, only to be frightened back by a rumbling sound.

A train with only four carriages moved across the snowy terrain.

This train had no rails, instead, it was mounted on tracks beneath the chassis. Carriages were interconnected with hooks, each seemed to have its own power system, yet it appeared all power was provided by the leading vehicle.

Night Ten sat by the window, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the vast, astonishing tundra outside, a look of indescribable wonder in his eyes.

These "Dog Planners" really have something here.

Although there were less than a hundred players active in the Wandering Swamp, the operators of "Wasteland OL" still managed to create this section of the map.

The hail beating against the window, the snow kicked up by the tracks, the reindeer crossing the tundra...

Everything was so realistic.

Sitting opposite him, Jiang Xuezhou misunderstood his look of wonder, and with a slight smile, he spoke.

"Is it very big?"

"It is indeed quite vast..." Night Ten nodded, then added emotionally, "It’s just a bit desolate."

What he couldn’t understand was why the Academy, despite having the most advanced technology on the Wasteland, left such a vast expanse of land undeveloped.

If the prosperity of Ideal City was somewhat exaggerated, like the colorful lights and the complex information of the Endpoint Cloud creating an illusion of rapid technological advancement, the technology of the Academy truly reached an awe-inspiring level.

As the only survivor force on the Wasteland capable of manufacturing anti-gravity devices and possessing superluminal engine technology without relying on the Black Box, they actually had a chance to establish a true Utopia here.

It shouldn’t be more difficult than finding another planet in the universe to start over.

At least that’s how he saw it, still being a student.

Jiang Xuezhou tilted his head, not quite understanding what he meant by "desolate."

Just then, a researcher sitting at the adjacent table laughed and interjected.

"Of course, this is the northernmost part of the Central Continent. The fragile ecosystem here is already at its limit in terms of population capacity; its current state is quite sufficient. Rather, having more people would complicate matters."

Night Ten looked at him, puzzled.

"Would more people really complicate things?"

"After all, the number of boat tickets is fixed." Another researcher browsing a paper on a tablet spoke succinctly, "A ’ship’ that can hold everyone has never existed, and the contracts we signed with the survivors never included such terms."

Night Ten: "Contracts?"

"That was half a century ago. We left the Grand Canyon to avoid persecution from the Army and corporations. Some survivors who had lost their means of livelihood due to the collapse of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee followed our tracks and found us, hoping we’d take them in. So the Science Committee was formed."

The researcher paused, his gaze drifting out the window as he continued in an even-tempered tone.

"According to our promises, we provide them with the nutrients essential for survival, and in return, they have voluntarily renounced all political rights and joined our plans, submitting to our management. We’ve provided them with the promised treatment, even rewarding those who comply... which was their promised obligation. Do we have any reason to raise their standard of living?"

Night Ten looked at him, astounded, "Wow, you guys are more capitalist than the capitalists."

The researcher froze for a moment, giving him a peculiar look.

"I don’t know what you mean by that, but at least we haven’t deceived them. We made it clear from the start that the Academy is not a charity, nor a country, merely a research organization. Our ultimate goal is to finish our ’Ark,’ and once it’s done, we will leave. We never begged them to live on our land. Or do you think it would be better to lure the Wasteland Wanderers with an unattainable dream like corporations do?"

This statement seems to have some merit.

Night eleven also couldn’t think of a way to refute it, especially when he suddenly realized that this was their own business, and it was not his place, as an outsider, to comment.

However, just as he was planning to end this topic, what surprised him was that Jiang Xuezhou, who had the image of a well-behaved girl, suddenly spoke up.

"Aren’t you also admitted to the academy?" she asked.

The researcher glanced at her and said indifferently,

"Yes, so what?"

Jiang Xuezhou couldn’t help but say,

"You were one of them before too, why are you talking about them as if they were slaves..."

"First, let me correct you, I never said they were slaves," the man returned his gaze to the tablet and said indifferently, "And to answer your question, you said it yourself, it was before."

With that, he did not want to make enemies over such a trivial verbal dispute.

This was a train departing from Ice Sea City, and the passenger traveling with her had the VM, a mark of residents of the refuge, on his arm. Possibly, he was a foreign guest visiting under the Sticky Community project.

If that were the case, her mentor’s background might be significant.

Jiang Xuezhou stared at him with a puzzled look, unable to speak for a moment.

"My bad, I owe you an apology," Night Ten coughed lightly and stood up from his seat, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the carriage, "Actually... our refuge is the same, a refuge that can accommodate everyone is impossible, so some can go in, some cannot, some enjoy early, and some suffer early. For a greater goal, some people have to make sacrifices... This is reality, and it’s the most helpless reality."

The researcher, browsing through a paper, curled the corners of his mouth into a faint smile, while Jiang Xuezhou looked incredulously at Night Ten, seemingly unable to believe he would say such a thing.

The latter, however, did not look at her but merely shrugged his shoulders and continued,

"However, we really can’t trample on those who didn’t make it into the refuge just because we were lucky to be born there. Our knowledge, technology, methods, and even Black Box, etc., should belong to ’all of us’ of that era. Signing unequal treaties with a few pitiful folks, enjoying the inheritance left by ’us’ without fulfilling the obligations of ’us’, I really can’t understand that... Being a coward may be due to the helpless reality, but what is there to be proud of?"

The researcher who was browsing the paper grimaced and chose to respond with silence to these words.

Jiang Xuezhou’s surprise turned into joy, and a triumphant smile appeared on her face, as if to say she had indeed not misjudged the person.

Murmurs began to spread in the carriage; some people turned their gazes to see what the outspoken fellow looked like, while others disdainfully twisted their mouths, uninterested in the wisdom of mere mortals.

Of course, some people also showed thoughtful expressions, genuinely considering the rationale of the statement.

In the academy, rational voices were relatively popular, especially those that were logical.

This is also the biggest difference between the academy and other places; emotional outbursts generally would not attract much attention.

However, the initiator, Night Ten, suddenly regretted it.

His original intention was actually to apologize, that he shouldn’t have meddled. But as his mouth slipped, he veered off-topic, unable to restrain a sarcastic remark.

Elder Fang was right; his tendency to talk excessively was indeed something he should change.

They were here to make friends, not to offend people.

"Thank you."

Looking at Night Ten who had sat back down, Jiang Xuezhou softly said with a flushed face.

"Really, there’s no need to thank me," Night Ten said nonchalantly, unable to figure out what he had actually done to help.

Even though he was happy to have said what he had been thinking but afraid to express, Jiang Xuezhou seemed to suddenly recall something, growing anxious as she whispered,

"Right... You came here with an electronic transit pass, didn’t you? If you speak carelessly, won’t your Manager blame you?"

In this carriage, every researcher had installed bionics, making taking photos or videos a mere thought away.

She was worried it might cause some sort of diplomatic mix-up, like residents from the Alliance’s shelters openly criticizing the Academy’s policies or the Science Committee’s management methods.

Night Ten was caught off guard, then laughed and said,

"Ah? That won’t happen. Our Manager isn’t that petty."

Unlike whoever designed the dog plan.

Getting forbidden to post for sharing a racy picture was one thing, but getting flagged for entirely unprovocative stickers from the comics was another.

That was truly excessive!

As they talked, a wisp of human activity appeared in the endless wilderness outside the window.

It was an oil well.

With its "antiquated" design style, Night Ten couldn’t help but feel for a moment like he was back on the real Earth.

Seeing the oil well, Jiang Xuezhou suddenly perked up.

"We’re here!"

At the same moment she spoke, the announcement of arrival sounded in the carriage.

"Area 721 has been reached. Please disembark at this station if this is your stop."

As Night Ten was about to help her with her luggage, the suitcase came tumbling down from the rack on its own, with wheels rolling toward the door of the carriage.

"What are you standing around for? Let’s go." Seeing Night Ten motionless next to his seat, Jiang Xuezhou excitedly urged.

She hadn’t seen her family in a long time. While others might feel apprehensive as they neared home, she was filled with anticipation.

"Ah... okay."

Night Ten looked enviously at her luggage suitcase and followed behind her.

High technology sure was marvelous!

For someone who often had to take high-speed trains back home from college, this gadget was far more intriguing than any nuclear fusion...

The group stood in the airlock chamber, and as the doors outside opened, a whoosh of wind and snow swept in.

Despite being clad in a warm suit and surrounded by technology all over, Night Ten still felt the chilling cold hit him.

This was a remote corner of the Wandering Swamp, a settlement known as "Area 721" was located there.

According to Jiang Xuezhou, the local survivors’ task was to mine the oil beneath the permafrost in yearly temperatures of -20 degrees Celsius, providing raw materials for the industrial area fifty kilometers away.

There would regularly be tracked vehicles arriving to take the fuel away while also bringing the necessary supplies for local life.

Though alternative biologically or chemically synthesized substances similar to oil were discovered during the Prosperity Epoch, from a practical standpoint, the traditional diesel-driven drilling platforms were more suitable for the environment of the Wandering Swamp and the unique organization of the Science Committee.

Advanced methods of production weren’t always better.

What the Science Committee needed to ensure was that the colony ships aimed for the future would be completed on schedule, and excess production meant wastage. Traditional economic principles didn’t apply here, nor did they apply to most settlements on the Wasteland.

Among those who arrived at the station with them were another man and woman. The man was tall and slender with short hair. The woman had tied her black hair into a ponytail, appearing the type who seldom spoke.

Just as Night Ten was sizing them up, the man looked at him and smiled slightly, suddenly saying,

"That was an excellent speech."

Night Ten was momentarily stunned and slightly embarrassed, coughing lightly as he replied,

"Thank you. I do feel a bit ashamed, though, for speaking too much. I apologize if I offended you—"

Jiang Xuezhou scoffed lightly, muttering,

"There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were right, so why apologize for something correct? It’s strange that those who feel offended even when their relatives and friends live in such conditions."

"Haha, whether the Science Committee’s decisions are right isn’t for me to judge, but... I do agree with this gentleman’s comments; we really should do something with the knowledge left by our ancestors. Pursuing a better life shouldn’t be a sin." The researcher eased the tension with a laugh and then introduced himself, "My name is Li Xiang, an E-level Researcher. This is my department-mate who’s a Prospector, named Wu Xiaoxiao."

The one called Wu Xiaoxiao nodded reservedly, glanced at Night Ten, though her eyes lingered more on the Jiang next to him.

Night Ten noticed a clear admiration and awe in her gaze.

It was quite understandable.

Even though Jiang was just a Little D Grade, she undoubtedly seemed like a significant figure in the eyes of E Grades and Prospectors.

"This is Jiang Xuezhou," Night Ten said, albeit feeling that the two might already know the Jiang from his group, he still proceeded to introduce her.

Li Xiang nodded courteously toward both, especially to his fellow Academy alumna.

However, to Night Ten’s surprise, he seemed even more interested in him.

"I heard you’re from the Alliance?"

Night Ten nodded.

"Yes, I’m a resident of Shelter No. 404."

Li Xiang’s interest intensified, especially when he heard about Shelter No. 404.

"That’s wonderful... I’ve always been fascinated by your group. Can you tell me in detail? How did you establish such a massive organization on the Wasteland in just two or three years?"

From his eager eyes, it was apparent he was genuinely curious.

Night Ten felt a surge of pride at finding a fan of the Alliance this far away, and chuckled heartily, novelbuddy-cσ๓

"That’s a long story... Although it’s just two or three years, quite a lot has happened during this period."

"No worries! We can talk as we walk." Li Xian’s eyes gleamed as he watched him, and even Jiang Xuezhou couldn’t help but perk up her ears curiously.

"Alright, let me think..." As Night Ten recalled the past events, he started to narrate the story in a chatty tone, "It all starts with a town mayor called Old Leech, and a girl named Little Fish..."

Beautiful stories always warm the heart, and the howling winds and snow seem not so piercing anymore.

At first, he began with a casual attitude, telling how the flame of order rose from the Wasteland, but as Night Ten spoke, he suddenly found himself moved by his own words.

It wasn’t that he was boasting.

Indeed, those times were truly damn tough—having to mix cement himself despite being a top-tier player, with the server’s highest-level equipment being merely a rifle with an attached scope!

Not just the listeners, but even the storyteller himself was on the verge of tears!

The three following him felt a touch of emotion too, a flame, faint yet discernible, unwittingly ignited within their hearts...

Just as Night Ten spoke of Chu Guang overthrowing the old mayor of Bet Street, and mentioned the spark igniting outside Giant Stone City, thousands and even tens of thousands of kilometers away from the Wandering Swamp, an inconspicuous cargo ship was slowly approaching the largest trading port on the west coast of Poluo Province.

Standing on the deck at the bow, Governor Nihak looked out in astonishment at the distant port, his eyes filled with indescribable surprise.

The remaining sunlight of sunset showered over the bustling concrete docks, where rows of neatly arranged red brick houses flanked the streets that were four to five meters wide.

The prosperity here seemed no less than that of the transformative Jin Jialun Port.

It was even more luxurious, busier!

The artistic accomplishments of the Weilante people did not fall short of the Alliance, corporations, or Academy architects, especially in grand and beautiful architecture, which mirrored the immense and unique aesthetic of their large caliber cannons.

Some Weilante people seemed to have settled here, not only bringing their spouses, houses, and dinars from Ideal City but also their refined lifestyles.

Governor Nihak saw a tall-nosed supervisor waving a whip, urging a group of bare-chested laborers carrying large crates that could fit a person, hustling back and forth on the scorching hot concrete dock.

That familiar scent!

Looking at the scene before him, Governor Nihak took a deep breath and couldn’t help but shed tears.

Finally, they were back!

Just behind him, not far away, a fluffy white bear stared disdainfully at his back, unable to resist muttering,

"Can I throw him off the ship?"

"No, Meat Meat, he’s a mission prop! The clients at Fried Dough Stick Port paid a hefty traveling fee for him," said Tail, standing beside her, right foot on the railing, excitedly looking at the legendary West Sail Port.

What a huge port!

This settlement probably wasn’t smaller than Jin Jialun Port, possibly home to over a million people!

Besides the locals of Poluo Province, a substantial number of Weilante people lived in the port area; it seemed like the goods they brought wouldn’t struggle to find buyers!

Before long, the cargo ship moored at the port, and a Weilante military officer stepped onto the deck.

Exiting the captain’s cabin, Si Si handed over the cargo manifest and pulled out a VM to show the Weilante officer the documents and a barcode for identification.

"This is an electronic pass issued by the Sticky Community; we would like to apply for permission to go ashore."

"As you wish," the Weilante officer glanced at the document and chuckled, saying, "We will ensure your legal rights, but I advise sticking to the port area. Those rats have poor habits, and it’s better for a lady like yourself to avoid walking at night or going into alleyways, as our guards might not be able to see."

Despite the menace in his gaze, Si Si was unfazed and responded tersely.

"Well, you don’t have to bother yourselves then, just make sure not to play any tricks."

It seemed he had heard some funny joke, as the Weylentarian burst into laughter. After having his laugh, he pursed his lips and said,

"We disdain playing tricks; if we are interested in something, we’ll take it on the battlefield."

Only a Weylentarian could say such a thing with chest puffed out.

Si Si shrugged his shoulders and spoke with a mocking tone,

"Save that boast for your own people; there’s no need to tell us. Everyone who trades with us gets rich, but anyone trying to take even a copper coin from us should be prepared to lose a couple of teeth."

Detecting the sting hidden in those words, the Weylentarian officer merely smiled unconcernedly and made an exaggerated welcoming gesture.

"Mr. Dekolo, director of the West Sail Port Authority Office, welcomes you to West Sail Port and wishes you a pleasant time here!"

Having said this, he handed the cargo list to his deputy and disembarked from the cargo ship.

The "Meat Meat" cargo ship carried not only over 20 passengers but also 500 tons of herring cans and 150 tons of potato liquor.

These were specialty products from Jinjaron Harbor, which were very much in demand by the Weylent people. Though there wasn’t much room for bargaining, there was never a worry about sales.

With at least five or six thousand Weylent people settled in West Sail Port, not to mention the floating population possibly surpassing ten thousand, the daily consumption of herring and liquor could be measured in tons.

Moreover, with the Southern Legion’s port just a few hundred nautical miles northwest, even if local demand was met, the goods could still be sold there.

In addition to herring and liquor, there were also various miscellaneous items.

Such as fridges, watches, furniture, electrical appliances, and even used books or other handicrafts from Silver Moon Bay.

After disembarking, Si Si rented a covered stall in the market through the Port Authority Office and ordered the crew to carry several boxes of unpacked items to the stall as samples, tagging them with prices for sale.

The four agreed to watch the stall in pairs, taking turns, and decided the teams by drawing lots.

The first group was Si Si and Sesame Paste.

To pass the time when there were no customers, Si Si bought a popular local book from the market and began flipping through it.

Curious at first, Sesame Paste observed the passersby, but soon realizing that all of them were Weylent people, she got bored and picked up a book from the crate containing used books, mimicking Si Si.

Coincidentally, the book she picked up was "Awakener Bol," the very book Ah Wei had been longing for.

Initially, she just casually flipped through a couple of Chapters, but soon, the dramatic plot caught her attention, and she found herself utterly engrossed.

As time slipped by, Si Si managed to make two sales without Sesame Paste noticing, selling 100 tons of herring cans at 6300 silver coins per ton and 80 tons of potato liquor at 11221 silver coins per ton.

In West Sail Port, the retail market price was about double the wholesale price. For example, herring cans with a wholesale price of 6.3 silver coins per kilogram were ultimately sold at a retail price of 12-15 dinars per box (200g) on the shelf.

Actually, with a little calculation, considering the smallest retail price of 12 dinars, the "wholesale price" for 200 grams would be approximately 6 dinars, which is about 30 dinars per kilogram, nearly five times the actual wholesale price of 6.3 silver coins per kilogram.

Moreover, the highest exchange rate between silver coins and dinars was also around 1:5.

However, when it came to liquor, the calculated ratio often exceeded this figure.

Intrigued by this phenomenon, Si Si noted it down in his notebook to include as an observation in his travel post offline later.

Seeing Si Si working diligently, Sesame Paste, who had been slacking off for an hour, felt a bit ashamed. She quietly closed the novel spread on her lap, deciding to get serious about work as well.

She couldn’t always leave all the work to Si Si alone, at least... she had to sell one item before the sun set!

Just as she was thinking this, a customer happened to stroll up to her stall.

The person was thin and wore simple clothes, not a Weilante Person; nor did he seem like a local, but rather, resemble a pastor from the Silver Moon Bay Silver Moon Sect.

Sesame Paste was very familiar with such people, even to the point where she could recognize them from a crowd at a glance.

After all, every time she didn’t wear a hat to cover her cat ears, these people would pounce on her with a fervent expression to worship her.

She saw the man glance at the books on her knee and then at the basket of old books beside her, stroking his chin curiously.

"Are these books for sale?"

Hearing someone interested in these books, Sesame Paste’s face immediately brightened with a smile, her voice sounding pleasantly.

"Of course, are you interested, sir?"

The man nodded honestly.

"How much?"

Sesame Paste eagerly responded,

"We sell them by the ton, about two to three thousand books per ton, for just 2000 silver coins!"

However, what she didn’t expect was for the man to shake his head and murmur in a low voice after hearing her,

"That’s too cheap, how can something as precious as books be sold cheaper than sardine cans?"

But these are old books...

Seeing the customer shaking his head and stomping, Sesame Paste made a helpless gesture, tentatively saying,

"So... 2500?"

Before she even finished speaking, the customer had already pulled out some bills from his simple robe.

"Just 2000 silver coins will do. Let’s not haggle, give me a ton."

Although, in principle, she had a five-ton minimum, considering he was the first customer, Sesame Paste still made an exception, took the money, and gave him a delivery voucher.

"Take this ticket to the Meat Meat ship for your pickup... uh, may I ask, sir, what do you plan to do with these books?"

The man didn’t conceal his intentions, saying devoutly,

"I am a servant of the Silver Moon Goddess, here to spread the gospel of the Silver Moon Goddess on this barren land. Unfortunately, the local survivors are too ignorant, their wisdom undeveloped. I plan to start by teaching them to read."

Sesame Paste looked at him surprised, her right hand instinctively tightening around the hat on her head.

She thought, the Moon Clan had just been purged by the Emperor of West Winds, is it really okay for the Silver Moon Sect to preach here?

It was hard to say whether there was any connection between the two, especially since Silver Moon Bay and Poluo Province were so close, and many things were unclear.

But she quickly thought again, this area was ruled by the Weilante People, the Emperor probably couldn’t reach here.

"Well, good luck then...Oh, by the way, besides old books, running a newspaper is also a good way to improve literacy rates." Halfway through, she suddenly remembered something, so she kindly reminded him.

"...A newspaper?"

The man muttered to himself, his eyes gradually lighting up, "Hmm... that’s indeed a good idea, it might be worth trying, but what content should we put on the paper?"

"Serializing some popular stories might be a good start, like... how about this one?"

Saying that, Sesame Paste handed him the book "Awakener Bol," eagerly recommending,

"I remember the ’Survivor’s Daily’ in Giant Stone City first became popular because they serialized novels in their zine! Once people share a common language and topics, they don’t even need urging. They will actively learn and even participate in the creation themselves."

She remembered that the earlier issues of the newspaper featured fanfiction relocated by players, but later, popular stories were those created by residents of Giant Stone City themselves.

Looking at the book being stuffed into his hands by the girl, the pastor’s face showed a surprised and flattered expression.

"Oh, isn’t this too kind? Are you sure I can take this? Shouldn’t I pay... how much?"

As he spoke, he hurriedly tucked the book under his arm and started searching his pockets.

Watching him frantically looking for money, Sesame Paste couldn’t help but smile wryly, waving her hand,

"No need. Consider it a free gift with the ton of old books. If your newspaper makes a good profit, please send some royalties to Mr. Spielberg in Giant Stone City. His writing might be rough, but it’s heartfelt."

"Rest assured! By the way, my name is... Melgio. May I ask your name?"

"You can call me Sesame Paste." That was actually her cat’s name, which she later used as a nickname.

Just then, Melgio suddenly noticed the cat ears peeking from the edge of her hat.

Initially thinking it was an illusion, when he heard the name Sesame Paste, he vaguely remembered the rumors heard in Silver Moon Bay, his expression gradually changing from bewilderment to fervor.

Noticing the shift in his expression, Sesame Paste frowned, quickly pulling at the edge of her hat to tuck her ears back in.

But clearly, it was too late.

The man’s face shone with immense devotion as he bowed deeply, unconcerned by others around.

"Most honored... I’m sorry, please rest assured, I will definitely not fail your expectations! Let the light of the Silver Moon cover this barren land!"

Watching his excessively enthusiastic display, along with Si Si who stood gaping beside, Sesame Paste didn’t know whether to cry or laugh, trying to explain.

"Don’t be like this, and you’ve misunderstood, I’m really not an incarnation of the Silver Moon Goddess... I’m just an ordinary player—ah, how can I make you believe?"

"You’re right, whatever you say is what it is," Melgio said earnestly, his face embodying solemn secrecy.

Just like when he was in the Silver Moon Bay.

These "cat lovers" never listened to her.

While it was initially amusing, anyone would eventually find it overwhelming.

Sesame Paste sighed, resting her forehead on her knees, muttering softly,

"Oh well, good luck."

The tone was filled with resignation out of helplessness, but to Melgio, it meant something entirely different.

As if he had received a divine mission, Melgio stared at her as she sat behind the stall, solemnly swearing.

"Order received!"