Chapter 614: Rebirth of Singularity City

Chapter 614: The Rebirth of Singularity City

At the subway station near the old resettlement site.

Two hunched mutants, flanked by five young mutant warriors, stood at the station's entrance. They held white flags aloft, their faces etched with unease and fear as they stared at the armored vehicles and mounted machine guns not far away.

Those two ancient relics were priests of the Qi tribe. One was Gomo, and the other was Henk, a representative of the Ancestral Faction.

Unlike the Secular Faction, the Ancestral Faction comprised the earliest mutants of Singularity City. Their views, relative to Singularity City a century and a half ago, were undoubtedly extreme and radical, but compared to the current Qi tribe, they were conservatively regressive, turning back the clock.

Rather than hunting humans as prey, they preferred to treat those born in the pastures as livestock and the remaining free people as slaves.

After all, most landowners in this region did the same; towns like Hope Town, where over half the residents were free, were exceedingly rare.

They even opposed cannibalism, since there were more nutritious and efficient food sources, and they had promised those unwilling to become mutants that they would not be turned into pies... though this promise was essentially meaningless, for the moment they triumphed, those who refused to become mutants had already lost all power.

Without external interference, the conservative faction of any society inevitably ages. The Qi tribe was no exception.

Though the Ancestral Faction controlled a series of "advanced technologies," including midwifery, they could not change the fact that the tribe's new generation was growing, and the Secular Faction, which "focused more on mutant rights," was entering the center of power.

Yet now, all the warriors of the Qi tribe who had been named by Gahn had fallen in battle. What remained were the old, weak, sick, and disabled, along with young lads who had just learned to snore.

The "Ancestral Faction," which advocated harmony with humans, had thus regained influence.

Though in an ironic way.

"...It's useless. They won't let us go." Gomo sighed, watching Henk, who still hoped for negotiations.

There was still a chance to escape the city while the fog lingered, but it was naive to think the humans would spare them.

But as he opened his mouth to speak, Henk shot him a fierce glare.

"Shut up! If it weren't for that reckless fool Gahn and you lunatics leading us into this ditch, how could we have ended up like this!"

Gomo fell silent as requested, closing his murky eyes. At this point, words were meaningless.

Perhaps too much time had passed, and Henk had forgotten how they had once forced the remaining people to choose—either voluntarily become mutants or become livestock in the pens.

Once you set foot on this path, you could only go all the way. At least they had no chance of turning back.

The Alliance seemed to have made a decision.

An officer of no low rank walked to the frontline position and exchanged a few words with the soldier in the exoskeleton suit.

The exoskeleton-clad officer nodded, watched the senior officer walk away, then pulled out a cigarette, put it between his lips, and lit it with a lighter.

Seeing this, Henk's eyes filled with dread.

What decision required a cigarette first?

He hurried forward half a step, shouting as the rifles were raised in warning.

"Wait, hold on! You might not understand—we were once human too! We all worked for the same goal! It's just that... a small problem arose here, but it's not entirely our fault. For the sake of our shared service to the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, at least spare our lives. Please, we accept whatever arrangements you make—"

To survive, he threw away almost all dignity. The young mutants beside him breathed heavily, their faces a mix of struggle and hatred.

But the exoskeleton-clad officer paid no attention. He calmly finished his cigarette, dropped it, crushed it under his boot, and waved his hand impatiently.

"Open fire."

He had given them the time of one cigarette to pick up their weapons and keep fighting. If they didn't, then they could die.

Negotiations?

What was there to negotiate with livestock?

The muzzles of the Chimera armored vehicles spat tongues of flame. Long, thick tracer rounds instantly pierced Gomo's closed eyes.

The old man turned into a pile of shredded flesh, collapsing without a sound. Next fell Henk, kneeling on the ground, and the defiant young men behind him.

The battle at the subway entrance ended quickly.

Finally, the cutscene was over. The players, who had been itching for action, grabbed their weapons and charged into the subway station, beginning the final cleanup.

The task panel on their VMs clearly stated—

Leave not a single remnant of the Qi tribe alive.

And that was exactly what they intended, especially after witnessing the glorious deeds of those beasts...

"Who the hell worked for the same goal with you?"

Kicking the bloody corpse, a player nearby spat on it with cold eyes, then shouldered his rifle and moved on...

...

As various regiments pushed into the Jinhe City underground transit network from different subway entrances, the First Thousand-Man Squad under the Alliance's First Legion had already reached the eastern outskirts of Jinhe City.

To resettle the survivors rescued from the Qi tribe and to accommodate those liberated from the Church's rule, the Alliance needed to expand Pinecone Farm and rename it Singularity City.

There was an existing mental interference device there that could help the formerly caged poor souls reintegrate into human society.

According to the agreement between Chu Guang and Hanshuang, Hanshuang would manage Singularity City, while the Alliance would handle defense and security.

Until the local survivors completely weaned themselves off Naguo and became fully capable individuals, Chu Guang had no intention of incorporating Singularity City as the Alliance's sixth settlement. The cooperation model would follow the current pattern between the states of Luoxia Province and the Alliance.

Though both the Enterprise and the Academy were eager for him to take over this mess immediately, Chu Guang certainly wouldn't agree.

He didn't know what the Academy was thinking—those people loved their backroom politics, making it hard to guess their schemes. But he knew exactly what the Council wanted.

Once the Alliance fully took over this settlement, everything that happened here would become an internal affair of the Alliance. The Council could wash their hands of the responsibility from over a century ago, and even Hanshuang would become his employee. If any trouble arose, they would have room to retreat.

At least until the Council cleaned up its own mess, Chu Guang wouldn't use the fruits of Alliance citizens' labor to pay for their past mistakes.

Only by uniting one's own people could one unite others. Any alliance built by sacrificing one's own interests would always be fleeting.

After all, both the supported and the supporters knew deep down that such unearned kindness could never last.

And things that are not meant to last are not worth maintaining.

At the north gate of Pinecone Farm.

The sign for Singularity City had just been erected when a dense crowd appeared to the north, a long line snaking like a serpent.

Some carried bulging backpacks; others drove several two-headed oxcarts. They came from the direction of Hope Town, as if fleeing a disaster.

The centurion on duty, named Zheng Liushu, saw the refugees and immediately led his men to meet them.

Before he could ask, the leader, Mayor Ma Hechang, voluntarily revealed his identity, then grabbed Zheng's arm, tearfully recounting how the Torch Church had colluded with the mutants to persecute them.

"...The land of Hope Town can no longer grow crops. We heard you're willing to take in those oppressed by the Torch. Please take us in too!"

Ma Hechang wasn't entirely truthful. The real reason he brought his townspeople here wasn't just that the Naguo-contaminated soil couldn't yield crops.

Though that was also true.

In Hope Town, only Squire Kong's farm and a few self-sufficient farmers actually tilled the land. Ma's choice was largely speculation.

The fog outside had dispersed; the morning cannon fire had ceased.

Any clear-eyed person could see that the Alliance had prevailed in its conflict with the Torch Church and become the new master of this land.

Unlike the Torch Church, which allowed plantations, the Alliance planned to rebuild Singularity City and focus on restoring the soil corroded by Naguo.

Hope Town was still a distance from Singularity City. It would be ages before the Alliance's aid reached them, and what if they were charged as accomplices?

Surrendering now was undoubtedly the best choice.

But to be honest, Ma Hechang had no choice; he himself was a Nagu addict. If the Alliance later forbade them from planting Nagu on this land, even if he could endure it himself, the other residents might not be able to quit.

Since Hope Town was already a mess, selling it at a good price to the new lord of this land before it rotted away was the best option for both himself and his fellow villagers.

Of course, convincing the townsfolk to leave their homes was no easy task; he had spent considerable effort to win them over.

Zheng Liushu listened to his torrent of complaints until his head ached, and finally waved his hand to let them pass.

Though this settlement was not originally intended for them, the administrator's orders stood clear—

Anyone who felt they needed shelter was its target for shelter, and anyone who left of their own accord would no longer be sheltered.

Perhaps once they grew tired of life here, they would leave on their own.

"Think carefully before you enter. This settlement is actually an AI-managed shelter facility. Its function is to help rescued survivors gain the ability to support themselves and to help those who cannot quit Nagu on their own to kick the habit... If you can quit on your own, that's best; you don't have to come here."

Watching the survivors heading toward the gate, Zheng Liushu, out of duty, still gave a warning.

Hearing this, many hesitated. After a long moment, a hand waveringly rose from the crowd.

"Do you provide meals here?"

Zheng Liushu nodded.

"Yes, but you have to work every day."

Then immediately another voice.

"Is there a fee?"

Zheng Liushu shook his head.

"No."

Hearing such good news, the survivors broke into relieved smiles and walked toward their future new home.

But the mayor, who had been pleading with tears and snot for so long, still lingered, clutching a round bundle wrapped in burlap, a fawning smile on his face.

To be honest, Zheng Liushu didn't like this fellow.

New to the area, he didn't know Hope Town's situation, but he had heard that most settlements here had cooperated with the Torch Church.

Still, he saw no need to harass a pitiful refugee, so he spoke in a businesslike tone.

"Is there anything else?"

Ma Hechang quickly nodded and smiled.

"Yes, yes, sir, I have something to offer you!"

Zheng Liushu's expression turned stern at once, thinking the man was trying to bribe him, and he stepped back.

"I don't want your things. Put them away!"

"No, no, you must take this." Ma Hechang stubbornly stepped forward and unwrapped the bundle in his arms.

The moment he saw what was inside, Zheng Liushu instinctively held his breath, as did the soldiers nearby.

What the burlap revealed was a bloody head.

Frowning slightly, he looked at Ma Hechang and asked sternly.

"...What do you mean?"

Seeing that the officer didn't recognize it, Ma Hechang quickly wiped the blood off the head with his sleeve and explained.

"Sir, this, this is a mutant's child."

Zheng Liushu was taken aback, his brow furrowing deeper.

"How do you have a mutant's child?"

Ma Hechang continued nervously.

"It, it's different from other mutants—a half-breed... Occasionally, a mutant's brat inherits more of the human bloodline, like a mule from a horse and a donkey. We used to let it trade among us, but now things are different; we've completely cut ties with them."

The real point he wanted to make was only the last sentence.

But it seemed the head was too shocking; he might have overdone it...

"...Alright, we understand."

Zheng Liushu glanced at the bloody head, said nothing more, and jerked his chin toward a soldier.

"Bury it."

He had no right to judge the hatred between the locals and the Qi tribe, but they certainly had the right to do this.

Besides, it was a mutant; he had no interest in distinguishing between half-breed and pure.

It was already rotting.

Must have been dead for days.

The soldier nodded and took the head.

Ma Hechang was startled and quickly said.

"Sir... aren't you going to hang it up?"

Zheng Liushu replied impatiently.

"We usually only hang the ringleaders after hanging them, and take them down to burn once they stink. What's the point of hanging it?"

Ma Hechang nodded, finding it reasonable, but still uneasy, he couldn't help urging the officer.

"Don't be soft-hearted and let those people off; they've done us terrible harm."

"Don't worry, our administrator has his own plans."

"You could build a rack, hang them up, drill a small hole in the top of their heads, stick a wick in, and light it—let them burn slowly for a few days."

"We'll suggest it to the administrator."

"If only you could hang that rack here... Of course, just a suggestion." Sensing the officer's impatience, Ma Hechang didn't dare ask if they needed help and quickly shut up and left.

Watching him go, the soldier on duty couldn't help but click his tongue.

"What a pain in the neck this guy is. Might as well build him a theater with two chairs and let him sit there and watch to his heart's content."

His name was Yang Gaoshan, also a refugee who survived the Bone-Chewing Rebellion.

But unlike Old Zheng, who was already a centurion, he had been making bullets on the assembly line at the munitions factory until he joined the First Legion a few months ago.

"Maybe his relatives died in this disaster?" the slightly taller soldier beside him said casually.

His name was Wu Pangfei, originally from near Falling Leaf Ridge, later conscripted by the Legion, and after being rescued by the Alliance, he enlisted.

Yang Gaoshan looked at him in disbelief.

"But what did he do himself? Just wait there? Beg us to take him in after it was all over? Then boss us around? I'm not saying he's not pitiful, but I'm asking what right he has to make demands? Did he fight alongside us? Did he provide us with food or ammunition? Is he a citizen of the Alliance?"

He agreed to help these poor souls out of moral duty, but he hated that guy's entitled attitude.

The two weren't contradictory.

Zheng Liushu glanced at his two subordinates and said casually.

"That's how people are. You treat them well, and they want you to be even better. If you fall short of their saintly ideal by even a hair, they'll think all your kindness was just a whore's facade. Don't mind it. We didn't come here out of charity anyway, even if in the end we did help some poor souls."

Whether to end the wasteland or for the Alliance’s safety, this is far from being helpful.

Yang Gaoshan was still somewhat indignant.

“Poor souls… I don’t feel a shred of pity for them, nor do I think they’re innocent. It seems they had no choice, but from a hundred and fifty years ago, what wasn’t their own doing? They made this huge mess—you can smell the stench from eight hundred kilometers away. If it were up to me, I’d let them rot here; we’ve got mountains of problems at home to solve!”

Zheng Liushu sighed.

“You’re too extreme. If our administrator actually did that, their troubles would become ours sooner or later.”

Yang Gaoshan shot back.

“I didn’t say the administrator did wrong. I’ll always be loyal to his decisions. I just think these people aren’t worth saving.”

“Xizhou City has guerrillas fighting alongside us; the desert has resistance fighters who’d rather die than surrender; the workers of Boulder City stood up. And them? They regularly supply slaves to the mutants! They beg us to return their little princess! As if this were all our fault!”

“The only one still resisting, that Iron Tower, came from the neighboring province to the south! How does that mayor have the nerve to speak for his townsfolk and make demands of us?”

Zheng Liushu said nothing. To be honest, he didn’t like Mayor Ma either. The old veteran beside him cleared his throat and spoke.

“So we only do what we must. The administrator didn’t ask us to indulge them, nor to bring them back and support them, but to let them rebuild their own home here. Enough—let’s drop this topic… But I still have doubts about the androids. Are they really that reliable?”

In his early years, he had been a mercenary in Boulder City. He first fought for the Alliance because they offered him chips; he truly joined and transferred to the regular army after a funeral.

He had lived in Boulder City for a long time and, more than the survivors of Dawn City, feared the potential risks of android technology.

Ibes was an android. That bastard had done plenty of harm as an accomplice to the nobles.

The Dragon’s Blood potion was his masterpiece.

For more Awakened and greater economic gain, he didn’t hesitate to cripple users in pursuit of unlocking their potential. Until the Boulder City bank and its chips went bankrupt, many were buried under massive loans, struggling to survive in terrible conditions.

Zheng Liushu thought for a moment and said.

“That one isn’t reliable, but it’s just right for them.”

The old veteran asked, puzzled.

“Just right?”

“Mm.”

Recalling what he’d heard at the work meeting before departure, Zheng Liushu continued.

“The customized androids from Kangmao Group provide them with a regimented life. They’ll wake up at six sharp every morning, start work at seven, take an hour’s break at noon, work until five, then have a two-hour reading class after work, and lights out at ten. They do fixed things at fixed times; violations bring corresponding punishments.”

Though the punishment wasn’t severe—just solitary confinement in a dark room.

Yang Gaoshan counted on his fingers, stunned, and said.

“…Why does this schedule sound pretty good to me?”

Wu Pangfei was also taken aback.

“What if they slack off? Are our workers supposed to support them for free?”

“Support them for free? How could that be? We’re not a wish-granting machine,” Zheng Liushu said with a smile. “We’ll build a railway here, supply them with production materials, help clear away those green things, but they’ll have to grow cash crops for us. What else did you think I meant by work?”

Yang Gaoshan couldn’t help asking.

“But what if they loaf around?”

Zheng Liushu smiled faintly.

“Don’t think the android can’t see through such petty tricks. That thing is actually quite clever.”

Though they didn’t need to handle management, his superior had mentioned it at the previous work meeting about Singularity City.

To ensure production enthusiasm, the AI named Frost had set three tiers of living standards. The lowest was basic survival, for those who consistently failed KPI assessments. The middle tier was adequate nutrition, and the highest was a comfortable life.

If Singularity City had a trade surplus with the Alliance, Frost would deduct the portion for improving productivity and buy some consumer goods to improve life, distributing them proportionally to residents in the middle and highest tiers to encourage production.

Yang Gaoshan thought for a long while, then couldn’t help saying.

“Why does it still sound a bit too good to me…”

Zheng Liushu shrugged.

“We’ll see in a while. It’s too early to say now.”

This guy clearly oversimplified the problem.

The survivors in this settlement weren’t ordinary people—they were Nagu addicts who often slipped into a “trance” state.

Among them were ten thousand “primitives” just rescued from cages.

To prevent everyone from going into collective withdrawal and halting production entirely, Singularity City would partially lift restrictions on the use of mental interference devices on humans, and grow a small amount of Nagu to supply some addicts on a gradually decreasing basis, until the Alliance’s bio-research institute found a medical treatment.

Due to many special circumstances, Alliance law didn’t fully apply here, and they hadn’t obtained Alliance citizenship.

Wu Pangfei: “No specific deadline?”

Zheng Liushu thought and said.

“I don’t know. At least until the trouble in Haiya Province is resolved, I reckon we’ll need this buffer zone… But the administrator said if anyone wants to leave, register their biometrics and let them go, but once out, don’t come back.”

In essence, Singularity City was a large containment facility run by an AI. It prevented a flood of Nagu-infected from disrupting the Alliance’s existing order, while reducing the local survivors’ demand for resources to the lowest acceptable level.

The one-time entry restriction was necessary, to keep people from treating it like a sanatorium—coming for a few days of fasting when unhappy. That wouldn’t do.

But honestly, though he trusted the administrator’s decision and believed this arrangement was the best for those big babies, he still harbored a sliver of doubt.

Having lived in Dawn City, he didn’t really know what Ibes was like, but he knew Frost well…

…

Hope Town ruins.

The entire street was empty, not a soul in sight, no sign of life.

But judging by the street, the people hadn’t left in a hurry; they had carefully scavenged everything they could carry before departing.

Clearly, they never planned to return.

The town was utterly abandoned.

Yet at this moment, two uninvited guests stood at the town gate.

“Has this village been deserted?”

“It seems so.”

“What a shame—so many cultivated fields.” Looking at the place where they had once fought, now abandoned, Xingheburumeng’s face showed some regret.

Luoyu beside him felt the same, but he could understand the people’s choice.

“No need to regret it. Until it’s treated, these fields can’t grow normal crops… Anything that sprouts will be eroded by Nagu mycelium.”

Xinghe looked at him, puzzled.

“Wasn’t the hive destroyed?”

Luoyu nodded.

“Yes, but the mycelium doesn’t just vanish. It only regressed from the third stage to the second.”

Xinghe sighed.

“Step on a cockroach, and the eggs scatter everywhere.”

Luoyu said.

"But on the bright side, at least its scale won't keep growing—just plant enough Kam trees, burn the land with synthetic oil, and the ashes might even serve as fertilizer... like the ground that's been rolled over by flame weeders."

"Is that so..." Xinghe nodded thoughtfully, then looked at him with sudden curiosity and continued, "Speaking of which, brother, what exactly are you looking for here?"

They'd happened to meet on the airship, and he'd followed along without asking at the time.

Luoyu scratched his head.

"A person... well, actually, not really a person."

Xinghe was taken aback.

"...Then what is it?"

Not knowing where to begin, Luoyu thought for a moment, sighed, and said simply.

"When I first got here, I took that brother for a mutant, but after thinking it over, he's really just a poor soul who's been wronged... I want to at least apologize to it or something."

Maybe there's a side quest?

Like a mutant's treasure or something.

If possible, recruiting it as a follower wouldn't be bad either.

He never really liked teaming up with other players, preferring to explore the wasteland alone. If Xinghe hadn't insisted on repaying him for the help he'd given before, he would have come alone without telling anyone.

Unaware that this guy found him a nuisance, Xinghe was still racking his brains to seriously offer advice.

"Do you remember its name?"

Luoyu: "Didn't ask at the time."

Xinghe sighed.

"Then there's no help for it—Hope Town's been wiped clean by the refresh, hard to even find an NPC to ask. My condolences... why don't you @ the game designer on the forum and ask?"

Luoyu thought for a while, then shook his head.

"Forget it, I'd rather not bother him with something so personal."

Maybe this was just a minor episode on the quest for the hundred thousand silver coins, or maybe he'd missed a side quest that could have yielded something.

That's how an RPG without saving works.

Missed is missed.

But regardless, he was pretty satisfied with this adventure, and in the end, he'd miraculously survived.

Though he'd come within a hair's breadth of dying.

A one-life clear didn't come with an extra medal, but he still felt a sense of accomplishment.

After all, on this land, death was the norm; living was the exception.

"Give me a moment."

Watching Luoyu pull out his dagger and head toward the town gate, Xinghe was startled and asked.

"What are you doing? Taking a leak?"

"Tch, never mind, just wait for me here."

Walking alone to the town gate, he stopped. Luoyu thought for a moment, then used his dagger to carve a line of text in a conspicuous spot.

Since it was for an NPC.

He wrote in the Human Union language.

"That day, you must have warned the people here, right? Thanks, friend—otherwise, even if we'd made it in time, hardly anyone would have survived."

"My name is Luoyu. If you see this line, could you leave your name beside it? Next time I pass through here, I'll come and look."

No sooner had he carved the line than Luoyu suddenly regretted it.

He dared say that if other players saw this, the next time he came back, there'd definitely be a bunch of weird phonetic translations of Human Union names after it.

Like "Xiaochuan-kun was here" or something.

With a wry smile, he scratched out that line, thought for a moment, and wrote after it.

"Forget I said that. If fate allows, we'll meet again—I'll ask you face to face then."

Putting away the carving dagger, Luoyu nodded in satisfaction, drawing a conclusion to this adventure.

Once this year's Wave was over, he planned to go to that tavern again to pick up a new quest and see what farther places had to offer.

Picking up the rifle leaning against the wall, he stepped over the wheel ruts crisscrossing the intersection before the gate and went to join Xinghe, who was waiting not far away.