Chapter 1065: Resettlement Plan

Chapter 1065: The Resettlement Plan

A 24-hour ban was not particularly long.

However, what Professor Yang hadn’t anticipated was that after those 24 hours, a 72-hour physical confinement awaited him, instantly making him, who had initially thought “it’s no big deal,” feel a hint of the law’s solemnity.

Strictly speaking, the 24-hour disconnection penalty was an online lockdown measure stipulated in the *Player Handbook* for violations of game conduct—such as PK in safe zones—while the latter was a public security punishment clause from Dawn City itself regarding “brawling in public places.”

Yes.

Players not only had to abide by the rules for players but also by the laws and regulations of the NPCs.

The former was likely enforced by an uncontrollable force, akin to “the power of the rules,” capable of instantly killing even T0 players. The latter, however, was autonomously executed by local law enforcement agencies, leaving some room for maneuver—appeals could be made, or lawyers could be hired, just as when NPCs broke the law.

A reasonable inference: if one were strong enough, killing all the guards and breaking out of prison was feasible.

However, since this detention center was presumably located within a safe zone, the moment of escape could trigger the *Player Handbook*’s clauses, leading to cumulative punishments for multiple offenses.

As an aside.

Due to the peculiar nature of players, serving time in prison was different for them compared to others. Apart from a fixed deduction of 8 hours per day, only the time spent online counted toward the sentence.

If one didn’t log in and check in that day, the fixed 8-hour deduction would also be canceled.

And during this period, suicide was useless and would even be deemed a malicious violation to evade punishment.

Once the sentence exceeded twenty years, the game qualification was automatically revoked, along with the eligibility for re-registration.

So, even if one wanted to do something that might earn a red name, it was best not to do it in a safe zone.

Otherwise, they might find themselves “establishing order” alongside GMs, NPCs, and players who loved justice and peace.

“Sigh… no way around it.”

Gazing at the cold iron bars, the Thunderbolt Law King, Professor Yang, let out a sigh and temporarily set aside any thoughts of exploiting loopholes.

Mainly because it wasn’t necessary.

72 hours minus 8 left 64 hours. Checking in once a day would get him out in 8 days; if he served his time obediently, he’d be out of this godforsaken place in two and a half days.

The Alliance’s laws weren’t harsh; better not to stir up trouble.

Yet just as Professor Yang had resigned himself to his fate, the guy squatting in the neighboring cell, Ye Ao, was far from quiet.

As soon as this brat woke up, he grabbed the iron bars and rattled them noisily, kicking the cell door and hurling the most extreme insults at the detention center guards.

“Hey, hey, hey, you NPCs, do you even have any self-awareness? I’m a player, a play·er! Know what that means? This lord here is an im·mor·tal being, got it? I can fail countless times, but you can only fail once. Be smart and let me out now, understand?”

“…”

“Oh, oh, oh, fine! Not letting me go, huh? Hmph! I think you’re refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit. Just wait! Once I’m out, I’ll punch your administrator to death with one blow! I know, you know—your fa·tal weak·ness~. Wait for the server reboot!”

“…”

“… Ungrateful bastards! Is this how you treat your savior?! I, I am a resident of Vault 404! Know the weight of a Vault Dweller, huh? Come lick my shoes, you trash!”

“…”

“Frustrated, frustrated! You must be frustrated, right? Damn devs, what garbage settings! If you can’t make a game, don’t make one! Go beg on the streets! Eat my shit, you trash! In real life, you’re probably a shut-in who’s never even touched a girl’s hand, right? How disgusting.”

“…”

“Bro, please… let me out, I swear I won’t do it again…”

“…?”

Hey, hey, hey…

Was this guy crying?

A setback this small shouldn’t be that big a deal, right?

Professor Yang wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard, but the incessant whimpering was just too noisy.

Especially since players were in solitary cells, and there was no one else here but the two of them. He couldn’t even find a cellmate to chat with and distract himself.

“So annoying! Can you just shut up? You’ve been lurking for five years, at least—don’t you know NPCs speak the Common Tongue? And show some restraint with your words. All that ‘shit, shit’ just makes it seem like you eat that stuff all day… Sigh, I really feel sorry for your parents.”

Aside from a lack of upbringing, he couldn’t think of a better reason.

But just as he was about to “season” this guy with some advice from an elder’s perspective, Ye Ao Nai Wo He, who had been hiccupping a second ago, suddenly went berserk as if injected with a rage potion.

“Damn it! Who asked you, you old bastard! Trash! My punch has a force of 6,000 tons—can you block it? Eat my spit! Ptoo, ptoo, ptoo—!”

“…”

The veins on Professor Yang’s swollen forehead bulged, and his teeth ground audibly.

Damn it.

His fists were itching again!

…

Perhaps due to the sudden influx of a large wave of new players, the Dawn City detention center had never been so noisy.

But overall, most players were relatively normal; it was just one or two with overblown egos causing the racket.

“Even a ‘key target of concern’ can enter the game normally, so other players should have little issue. Using the Wandering Swamp as a newbie village is a bit too extreme… That place is more suitable as a level-20 map. Throwing newcomers there would just be a nuisance to the locals, and might even affect the takeover of the Science Committee.”

“In short, ‘if the program runs, don’t touch it’… As for the rest, we’ll deal with it after the open beta.”

Level B5 of Vault 404.

Staring at the surveillance footage on the screen, Chu Guang rubbed his chin in contemplation.

Watching the meticulous administrator, Xiao Qi, perched on the armrest of the chair, swung her little legs and looked up at him with an admiring expression.

“As expected of the master, even in the new era, you’re working tirelessly behind the scenes for the players.”

Chu Guang smiled faintly and said in a relaxed tone, “Haha, ‘tirelessly’ is an exaggeration. The entire ‘framework’ of the game is complete; the remaining work is just some minor fine-tuning.”

His current mindset was probably like someone who had finally built a massive castle out of blocks.

Once he confirmed the castle was livable, he could let go and leave the rest of the embellishments to others.

Punishing criminals was the guards’ job; judging offenders was the judges’ job; determining laws was the Representative Assembly’s job; how each department operated was to be discussed by the ministers and the future executive officer; local affairs were handled through negotiations between local representative assemblies and administrative officials.

That was basically the framework.

As for what branches and leaves this little sapling would grow into, what kind of forest it would become—that depended on the wind and rain from the sky.

As the designer of this entire “game,” his work was only that.

“Speaking of which, what’s the situation on the β-world side now? I heard their nuclear fusion reactor ignited successfully?”

Xiao Qi: “Mm! It succeeded a month ago!”

“Is that so? Not bad, not bad.” Chu Guang’s face bore a genuinely gratified smile.

Long ago, he had half-jokingly promised to compensate Brother Kuangfeng with a Nobel Prize once everything was over.

But now, it seemed that a mere medal might not be worthy of Professor Yanfeng’s achievements.

Speaking of his good brothers’ dreams, he remembered that Fang Chang’s dream seemed to be taking Duoli to the real world to meet his parents and hold another wedding in reality.

That actually seemed the easiest to achieve—just create a clone in the real world as a vessel for consciousness, and it would be done.

Night Ten's dream had basically been realized in the game already, nothing more to say about that.

As for Old White, he probably had the mindset of a "retired old man," content to leisurely enjoy a peaceful life without a care.

To be honest.

Besides keeping this well-intentioned lie going, Chu Guang had also considered another outcome.

That was to go big after everything ended, to simply reveal the truth of "Wasteland OL" to the public.

In simple terms, no more pretending, time to come clean! Not only am I a higher civilization, but I am you two hundred years from now!

The public test server of "Wasteland OL" would launch on schedule, but no longer using morphogenic field technology as the medium—instead, it would be a true MMORPG running on the local server of the β universe.

As a local server operating in the β universe, he could add exaggerated skills to the game that didn't exist in reality, as well as surreal monsters that only appeared in the void.

Making this game was easy; Ideal City had a ton of game companies that could take over, and a few of them were even started by his own little players.

That way, new players could experience the expansions they missed during the closed beta, while old players could revisit past stories with a nostalgic mindset, making up for unfinished regrets.

As for the "Wasteland OL" closed beta server, it would be renamed the "α server," serving as the test server for the β server, open only to players who qualified for closed beta, pre-registered players from the closed beta phase, and holders of outstanding virtual accounts on the β server.

Additionally, silver coins and the original technology transfer channel would only be linked to the α server.

As for the β server, it would use a brand-new game currency system and operate like a normal MMORPG.

While revealing the truth might cause a certain degree of panic worldwide, in the long run, it seemed like the closest thing to a win-win solution.

The real world could never satisfy everyone's gaming experience, but a true virtual world could!

Besides, the wasteland couldn't accommodate hundreds of millions of players; if the public test still required limited slots, then it would be no different from the closed beta.

The more Chu Guang thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. He tapped his index finger lightly on the armrest of his chair and immediately looked at Xiao Qi.

"Speaking of which, after the controlled fusion ignition, did anyone on the real side notice anything off... like realizing that 'Wasteland OL' is actually a real world?"

Xiao Qi replied in a crisp voice.

"Master, similar speculations have existed since the start of the α test, but they never became mainstream. On the contrary, due to the successful controlled fusion ignition, the 'Descent Faction' supporting the 'Friendly Contact Theory' has become the mainstream among the middle and upper echelons of various countries."

"Additionally, according to Xiao Qi's investigation, statements like 'higher civilizations enlightening Earth civilizations through the ninth art form' have overwhelmingly surpassed the 'Hostile Observation Theory' in frequency within high-level documents of various countries. In some underdeveloped regions and small economies, authorities have even encouraged their citizens to register on the 'Wasteland OL' official website!"

Considering the value of silver coins, such a situation wasn't surprising.

After all, silver coins could genuinely be exchanged for technology, and even if not enough for technology, they could be traded for foreign currency from major powers—far more reliable than mining digital currencies, and not particularly power-hungry.

"Wasteland OL" did have foreign players, but due to language and cultural barriers, both the scale of the player base and the number of posts on the official website were relatively limited.

"Is that so? It seems the option to reveal the truth has some foundation... What about Shelter 404-β? What's the situation there now?"

After unlocking the B5 layer, Chu Guang had read the complete Plan 404.

According to the plan's data, the β fission body could be seen as the professor reborn in 2014 with "complete memories."

To build a vast shadow organization in just seven years during the pre-Bloom Era and complete such an enormous plan behind the scenes—that guy was quite a remarkable talent.

Of course.

From his perspective, seeing himself clear "Wasteland OL" in just five years would probably evoke similar feelings.

They had both pushed things to the extreme in their respective fields.

If they ever had the chance to meet face-to-face on the same timeline, they would likely hold mutual respect.

Xiao Qi: "The β fission body has transferred the administrator authority to Shelter 404 in the α universe... that is, to us. As for the professor himself, he seems to intend to explore the world beyond the solar system, which is said to be his original historical mission—he plans to continue doing that."

"Historical mission, huh... In terms of responsibility, he's just like that guy."

The "that guy" Chu Guang referred to was naturally the professor from the α world who died two hundred years ago and whom he had briefly encountered in a video.

Xiao Qi: "Hehe, just like master~"

"Me? Not at all. I wouldn't exile myself beyond the solar system for such a shallow reason."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Chu Guang's mouth. Though he denied being lumped together with that person, his words carried no disdain.

That guy must have had other reasons.

But only he himself knew that; outsiders guessing would be meaningless.

Seeing Chu Guang silent, Xiao Qi continued in a crisp voice.

"Currently, the helmet production capacity of Shelter 404-β has reached 3,000 units per day, with an inventory of nearly 200,000 units! Theoretically, we could immediately add 200,000 new players and maintain a maximum of 3,000 closed beta slots per day!"

Chu Guang rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"At this rate, we could add up to a million players a year. But considering the growth in player numbers, maintaining the morphogenic field devices will become a problem... It seems the 'α-β server separation plan' is inevitable."

"Server separation plan?"

Xiao Qi was puzzled by this unfamiliar term, but Chu Guang planned to explain it later.

For now, there were more important things to do.

"By the way, who's currently in charge of the β universe operations? The β fission body?"

Xiao Qi shook her head.

"No... The current person in charge is his assistant, a doctor named 'Principle.'"

Principle?

Hearing this distinctive name, Chu Guang was surprised and couldn't help being reminded of memories from long ago.

According to data from the Great Rift Valley, after the dissolution of the War Construction Committee, Dr. Conclusion took the core members of the technical department to the Wandering Swamp, while "Principle" and "Method"—both revered as founders by the Academy—simply vanished from the wasteland.

Later, he found Dr. Method in Shelter 101, but Principle had remained missing.

He never expected that guy had ended up in the β world...

"So it's him."