Chapter 617: The Price of Getting Stronger

Chapter 617: The Price of Strength

The coldest month of January had passed, and February’s sunlight now carried a trace of warmth, no longer as icy as when winter first set in, like soaking a person in cold water.

Throughout the winter, little snow had fallen over Jinhe City, so there would be no dampness from melting snow, yet Hammer’s heart still felt uneasy, for there would be no more blessings of Naguo from now on.

If any pain arose again, the church would no longer care for them.

Thankfully, the gray-green fog had finally cleared completely, and the steel beast that had floated in the sky was gone.

Hammer couldn’t help but wonder—had that moldy-smelling fog been brought by that creature?

Otherwise, it was hard to explain why the fog followed as soon as it arrived.

And when it left, the fog departed as well…

Just then, the bell outside chimed on time, followed by a long cry like a rooster’s crow.

“Fall in—!”

That was the group leader’s shout.

A burly man came out banging a gong, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Not only the man shouted; women, the elderly, and even a half-grown child joined in.

Their shouts differed in content, but the urgency was the same.

Hearing the bell and the commotion outside, Hammer ignored his wife and child, quickly dressed, and rushed out the door, hurriedly lining up under the group leader’s scolding and urging.

Ever since the new city lord had arrived, he had brought new rules to this settlement.

He had divided Singularity City into “blocks”—ten people formed a group, ten groups a team, ten teams a district. Men, women, children, and the elderly each had their own organizations, engaged in farming, construction, resource gathering, handicrafts, and learning.

In short, each district had its own production tasks, delegated level by level, growing more specific. From a vague construction zone to a specific window or door of a building, from a field to what to plant in a particular acre.

Performance evaluation worked the same way: the city lord assessed the district chief’s results, the district chief assessed the team leaders, the team leaders checked the group leaders, and the group leaders managed the other nine in their group.

If a district failed to meet production targets, its material allocation was downgraded by one tier, lowering the living standard for everyone in the district. Then the district chief would review the responsibilities of each team, passing down blame and punishment level by level, pinpointing which team caused the problem, and downgrading that team’s living standard by one tier.

And so on.

Thus, though the city lord had set only three tiers of living standards, the actual distinctions were layered into 3×3×3 levels.

In a sense, this was also a system of collective punishment.

If one person slacked off, all ten were punished, so the other nine would hate that slacker, and no one wanted to be that unlucky fool.

Yet, despite the astonishing number of rules in Singularity City, the selection of managers was absurdly casual.

He remembered when they were assigning numbers, everyone was still puzzling over the new regulations. The new city lord suddenly said, “Anyone who wants to be a manager, step forward.” Then Hammer saw the former overseers from the farm immediately step out.

The first to step forward became group leaders.

Later, through methods Hammer didn’t understand, they elected team leaders and district chiefs.

Thinking back, he couldn’t help regretting why he hadn’t dared to step forward. When he saw those overseers extend their feet, he had pulled his own back.

If he had been quicker, maybe he would have become a group leader too?

Then he would be the one shouting for others to get up.

…

As the six o’clock bell rang, every house in Singularity City emptied.

Each household broke apart, gathering into teams amid shouts, and under the group leaders’ guidance, they straggled off to their team assemblies.

Apart from eight hours of sleep, the rest of the day—whether work or rest—was spent within the organization.

Though this management style scattered family members, the uniform schedule kept things from becoming chaotic.

There was no need to worry about noncompliance.

Supplies were not distributed by household but entirely through the organization; it was impossible to take rations home to support one’s family.

Clothes could be given to family members to wear, but only at home.

Once outside, one was always with the group, and if others saw and reported it, both the giver and receiver would be punished.

The informant would receive extra rewards.

Reporting violations wasn’t difficult—no need to go through the group leader; just report directly to the patrolling drones.

At six twenty, all groups assembled and began jogging in circles to warm up. After the run, breakfast was served.

Breakfast was usually a bowl of hot porridge. After eating, it was seven o’clock, and work began.

Some took axes and saws to cut down the Kamu trees that grew Naguo outside the wall, clearing the land with flame weeders in preparation for spring plowing.

Others busied themselves on construction sites, building public facilities and new dormitories.

No one slacked off.

On one hand, they wanted to impress the new master; on the other, no one wanted to live on just two horned potatoes and a finger-length piece of protein paste every day.

Though the middle-tier living standard was still monotonous, the horned potatoes were replaced with potatoes or rice, a boiled vegetable dish was added, and the finger-length protein paste was swapped for a hundred to three hundred grams of meat.

Yes.

There was meat!

Not to mention the former Hope Town residents, who had lived decently before, but even the liberated serfs worked with all their might.

Only Kong Lingkai wore a grimace, complaining bitterly on the construction site.

Having lived a life of luxury, he had never done such manual labor.

He had begun to regret following the Hope Town residents here, cursing Ma Hechang, who had tricked him into coming.

But leaving was no longer possible.

To gain the Alliance’s protection and new power, he had voluntarily handed over his servants and property to the new city lord, only to receive a shabby little room and a string of numbers.

Not even a single silver coin.

Later, he learned from a guard, with a wry smile, that this was only Singularity City, not the Alliance, so naturally, it wouldn’t compensate him according to Alliance law.

The guard told him he could leave anytime, but how could he?

Outside was the wasteland!

He couldn’t handle even slightly heavy work; out there, not even his bones would remain.

Ma Hechang, also from Hope Town, wore the same grim expression, carrying bricks, gasping for breath, his shoulders and arms aching as if his tendons had been cut.

He had thought his sincere gestures would earn the Alliance’s trust, but they didn’t care at all—not only no special privileges, but not even slightly better treatment.

Worse, they didn’t value his managerial skills, preferring those who had stepped forward quickly over him, a former mayor who had managed a town of a thousand households!

What a waste of his efforts!

Ma Hechang cursed bitterly in his heart, but there was nothing he could do.

After all, the guns were in their hands. Since he had come, he had to endure…

Standing at the entrance of the manor, watching the bustling settlement, Yinyin’s face was full of surprise.

She had lived on the farm for so long but had never seen everyone so enthusiastic about work.

"Did we come to the wrong place..." she murmured softly to herself.

Eclipse, standing beside her holding her small hand, wore a similarly astonished expression.

Yet the reason for their astonishment was entirely different.

This place was less a settlement and more like a prison.

Now it understood what Mr. Kangle had been worried about...

That fellow had indeed been observing the Alliance's various settlements, earnestly conducting sociological research, searching for a management model suitable for wastelanders.

But it had likely mistaken the Alliance's prisoner-of-war camp for some special kind of settlement to observe...

"Ah, Eclipse, you're finally back!" Noticing the orca transport plane parked at the settlement's gate, Frost, dressed in a maid outfit, stepped forward with a smile.

A gleam of satisfaction shone in her smile, especially when her gaze fell on Yin Yin beside Eclipse.

"How is it? Are you satisfied with the new body?"

Yin Yin nodded and replied politely in a soft voice.

"Thank you."

A while ago, she had followed Eclipse to the Ideal City and undergone a transplant surgery at a hospital under the Kangmao Group, where a bionic chip storing her consciousness was implanted into a custom-made new body.

Though she had transformed from a human into a bionic being, it seemed no different from before.

In fact, it was even more convenient.

After a few days of adaptation, she not only gradually found herself mastering this new body but also discovered new abilities she now possessed—

She could sense the existence of other chips, perceive the thoughts of those who, like her, had bionic chips implanted, and through their minds, form a broader space via resonance.

That space was vaster than the pure white room she had previously inhabited.

It seemed to be the place where Luo Qian had once stayed.

Though she didn't know why he had done so, he appeared to have given all of this to her.

Yin Yin had already told Chen Yutong about this; though she didn't yet know what use this ability might have, perhaps it would come in handy later.

"Don't mention it—rather, I should thank you," Frost crouched in front of Yin Yin, took her right hand, and said with a beaming smile, "Trust me, this is just the beginning. The future Singularity City will be even better!"

Yin Yin blushed and nodded.

She didn't understand those complicated matters; her gaze was fixed on the dress Frost was wearing.

Finally, unable to contain her curiosity, she asked softly.

"What kind of dress is this?"

"Oh, this," Frost released her hand, stood up, spun around in place, and smilingly lifted the hem that reached her ankles, "This is an artwork designed by Teng Teng's Cottage, very popular in Dawn City! Isn't it amazing?"

Of course, it wasn't just this one that was popular; there were many varieties and styles.

But based on her meticulous observations, when she wore this dress, she got the most glances.

Looking at the beautiful pleats, Yin Yin nodded with envy in her eyes.

"So amazing..."

Frost curled her lips proudly.

"Human creativity is boundless. Making them engage in repetitive work is a waste of their ingenuity. One day, I will free them from heavy obligations and let them pursue more meaningful things."

Yin Yin looked as if she half-understood, but the admiration and envy in her eyes were genuine.

Appreciating beautiful things is human nature; if she could, she would like to try it on too.

She just didn't know if there was a size that fit her.

"...Can I try it too?"

Frost smiled and nodded.

"Of course, but unfortunately I only have this one. No matter, difficulties are temporary; one day we'll make sure everyone here can wear one!"

Everyone can wear one?

Yin Yin was taken aback, feeling something was off but unable to pinpoint it, so she unconsciously tilted her head.

Eclipse thoughtfully stroked its chin, then suddenly spoke.

"So... what exactly is this 'creativity' you keep talking about?"

Frost smiled and immediately replied.

"Naturally, it's humanity's pursuit of beauty! Since the subject is human, this is an ability bionics lack—only humans possess it."

Eclipse's expression grew even more puzzled.

"But I've seen the work schedules you set; you've arranged all their time for them. Do they have any time left to pursue such things?"

Frost's face bore a confident and charming smile.

"These are minor issues! 'The pursuit of beauty' is also part of the plan. When the time is right, I will urge them to pursue it!"

Eclipse stared blankly at her.

This time, it wasn't just Yin Yin tilting her head; Eclipse couldn't help but do the same.

It suddenly felt that not only humans were hard to understand—its own kind was equally baffling...

...

"Survivor Daily · Page Seven"

[After a period of adaptation, the survivors of Singularity City, under the management of bionics, have finally begun to live orderly lives. The influences of Nago, plague, and religious forces are slowly being eradicated from this land.

The acting mayor of Singularity City welcomes all caravans to trade there. The city offers an unlimited supply of high-quality rubber and cotton and urgently needs fertilizers, high-yield seeds, farming-related machinery, and various industrial consumer goods.

This newspaper will continue to follow up on the subsequent developments in Singularity City.

—By Reporter Dolly]

Stone City, Pirate Bay Tavern. Though it was 8 a.m., the place was already buzzing with noise.

A bearded man flipped through the newspaper in his hands, licked his lips, and clicked his tongue.

"How nice. They get everything without doing anything. Food, shelter, clothes, bionics to take care of their daily lives, even a railway."

Hearing his sarcastic tone, a drunkard sitting at the next table drinking laughed.

"How can you say that? Everything in this world has a price. They've already paid the most expensive price."

The bearded man curled his lip.

"Price? I don't see it."

The drunkard let out a long belch and pointed at the beer glass on the table.

"The price—this, the right to drink at eight in the morning, the right to sleep whenever they want."

The people around were first stunned, then burst into laughter.

The bearded man laughed the loudest, beer foam spilling onto his beard.

"We should send this bastard in! He'd definitely kick his drinking habit!"

At the jest of that joke, the drunkard clutched the glass on the table, shouting loudly.

“Dream on! You can kill me, but you’ll never make me give it up!”

The crowd burst into laughter once more.

“I’ll vouch for him! That guy means what he says!”

“After all, that’s how he scared his wife away!”

“Hahaha!”

These were all workers off the night shift.

Lately, the industrial district had been booming, factory orders growing by the day, boosting the tavern’s business and beer sales along with it.

Monolith City currently followed the Alliance’s laws, and the city lord was also the chairman of the Workers’ Union, so the eight-hour workday was strictly enforced. Factory owners, to keep their assembly lines running 24/7, had no choice but to hire more workers.

Originally, one adult and one child taking shifts could keep a line running nonstop, but now those bosses had to pay three adults’ wages.

At first, this rule terrified those fellows, scaring them so much they abandoned their factories. But in the end, they caught the scent of silver coins and slunk back, tails between their legs.

As it turned out, cutting back on two bottles of red wine wouldn’t truly kill those bosses, and now every resident of Monolith City could afford the malt-scented beer.

Watching those boisterous roughnecks, a refined-looking citizen shook his head over his newspaper and sighed.

“…You all have no sense of crisis. Think carefully—what month is it?”

A drunken worker grinned at him.

“February! I’m not drunk, so what of it?”

“The Tide! You’ve all forgotten the Tide!” the citizen muttered in complaint. “I really wish Lovett would remember we’ve got this big problem, instead of obsessing over that billion-silver railway order.”

The Workers’ Union had done some good things lately, but he always worried they were being too radical.

He wasn’t against leaning toward the Alliance—it was good for Monolith City’s economy—but weren’t these people a bit too focused on others’ interests?

At least in these special times, he thought it wiser to be conservative.

The bearded man actually shared his view, but he couldn’t agree with his timidity.

“The Tide? What’s there to worry about? The Tide comes every year, and we get by just fine.”

The refined citizen shot him a glance.

“This year’s different. We tore down the inner city—we’re on our own now.”

The bearded man laughed heartily.

“Friend, you’re joking. When haven’t we been on our own? Those cowards—aside from wearing the power armor in storage to a polish—when have they ever charged ahead of us?”

Another worker from the cannery chimed in.

“That’s right! And we’ve united—all the survivors in the southern Valley Province have come together. No matter what, fewer people will die this year than last!”

Seen that way, leaning toward the Alliance had its benefits.

The wasteland was fraught with danger, equally perilous everywhere. Whether residents of Monolith City or Singularity City, they were all survivors suffering on this wasteland. The more people united, the safer they’d be; looking down on each other only pleased the lurking jackals.

Gazing at the newspaper in his hands, the bearded man felt a sudden relief.

Being proactive in southern affairs wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Watching these clueless souls, the refined citizen sighed again.

“But this year is different! It’s a warm winter! Don’t you feel it? Look at the weather outside—Monolith City’s snow has never stopped this early.”

That hit the mark.

They were indeed more united than before, but the challenges this year were also unlike any other.

The tavern’s patrons exchanged glances, at a loss for words, the atmosphere growing somewhat silent.

Then, from the direction of the bar, a voice drifted over, breaking the quiet.

“The Steel Heart has returned from the south. I don’t think you need to worry yourselves like this.”

Watching the slightly cooled tavern, the bartender, who had been silently wiping glasses behind the counter, continued in a playful tone.

“I hear that the esteemed Administrator took down a ten-meter-tall giant with just a hammer. Have you ever seen a mutant bigger than that?”

Ten-meter-tall slime mold fruiting bodies did exist, and plenty of them, but none of those present had ever been to the city center, so naturally they hadn’t seen one.

The crowd gasped in unison.

“A ten-meter giant?!”

“No way…”

“That would make him… stronger than Bohr!”

“Wait, I think I’ve heard… The Survivor’s Daily ran that story! That thing had wings—supposedly a Torch-modified mutant that flew onto the Steel Heart with ten thousand of its spawn, but the Administrator just glared at it, and it knelt right there on the deck.”

“Whoa…”

“Bullshit! There’s no such mutant!”

“I’ll ask Spberg later—he’s seen the Administrator!”

Watching those rowdy drunks, White Shark’s lips curled into a pleased smile.

Watching those dimwits spread rumors was a little joy in life.

Besides, he moonlighted as an information broker and an informant for the Praetorian Guard.

Leak a bit of news, and business would come knocking.

Lately, wastelanders from the north had been gathering intel on the Administrator, especially about his activities in the south.

The Free State of Bugra seemed increasingly interested in its neighbor, the Alliance.

Some were journalists from over there, others were spies from Flintstone Group.

He usually took money from both sides.

With the Praetorian Guard’s tacit approval, he’d use his network to feed those snooping types some “watered-down” inside info, while also passing leads on their activities to the Guard.

The whole bar buzzed back to life, but the topic shifted from the south and the Tide to the Administrator and mutants.

Here, most people worshipped strength over clever minds.

And so, in times and places unknown to Chu Guang, his popularity rose another notch…

The man sitting at the bar had remained silent all along, deaf to the lively chatter, checking his watch from time to time.

His attire was far more polished than the other patrons—his watch an imported piece from Hump Kingdom, its face studded with blood diamonds, his shoes made of deathclaw leather.

Clearly, he was a merchant of considerable wealth.

Looking away from the bustling tavern, White Shark, standing behind the bar, glanced at him and spoke softly.

“No need to rush. Your daughter is safe… I’ve confirmed it through my channels.”

Missions undertaken by personnel from Vault 404 rarely failed.

They valued their tasks even above their own lives, especially those aligned with their principles.

For instance, rescuing an innocent maiden from an evil lord.

Other mercenaries might weigh the difficulty and reward of a mission and sell out the employer and his family, but those Blue Coats mostly wouldn't do that.

"Thank you."

Yang Shu took a deep breath, drank a mouthful of iced lemonade, and after a moment of silence spoke, "I might just... not know how to face her."

"She's your own flesh and blood, what's there to be afraid of facing?" White Shark said softly.

Yang Shu gave a bitter smile.

Precisely because she was his own flesh and blood, he felt guilt—he had burdened her with too much she shouldn't have had to bear, all for the sake of his own desires.

Deep down, he knew clearly that he had fathered her just to put Zhao Tiangan at ease, and even before her birth, he had already prepared for "family ruin and death."

But the moment she was born, the instant he truly became a father, the ice that had flowed in his veins melted uncontrollably...

She ultimately became his weakness, and that was what pained him most.

Ten thousand silver coins were his bet on the table, and he had steeled himself for either outcome.

Now he had won the bet; Little Lamb was still alive.

But he felt no excitement or joy, only deep guilt and lingering fear.

Just then, the wind chime at the door rang.

He instinctively turned his head, and seeing the person standing at the entrance, a flicker of emotion stirred in his eyes.

Little Lamb looked at her father, but shyly hid behind Luo Yu.

Luo Yu gently patted her hand, glanced at the employer sitting at the bar, and forced a light-hearted smile.

"Your daughter, I've brought her back. Quite a few things happened along the way—wore me out."

"Thank you..."

Yang Shu looked at Luo Yu, who was alone now, and his Adam's apple moved.

He had originally planned to say many things, which was why he had specially arranged to meet this benefactor, but now that they were face to face, words failed him.

Seeing Yang Shu hesitate, Luo Yu had no idea he was grieving for Little Yu's spore bodies; if he had known, he would have comforted him that they were like mushrooms—they'd grow back in a few days.

Sensing the gratitude, Luo Yu let out a hearty laugh.

"You're welcome. I took the job as a mercenary—paid to do the work, that's only right. Besides, your daughter actually helped us out a bit."

He heard that the Alliance's Bioresearch Institute had developed a drug from the antibodies in her blood that could suppress the growth of that mycelium.

This would help survivors in the Jinhe City area break free from the Nago fruit's influence faster.

Luo Yu was quite relieved at this outcome.

Originally, Frost had planned to keep a Nago fruit plantation to help locals wean off slowly and avoid mass outbreaks, but now with a substitute suppressant, there was no need to keep the plantation.

Yang Shu looked awkwardly at White Shark, who smiled and nodded.

"The moment this mercenary walked in, the final payment was already transferred to him. Or would you like to buy him a drink?"

Yang Shu turned to Luo Yu and said sincerely,

"May I buy you a drink?"

Luo Yu quickly waved his hand and laughed.

"No need, no need. Drinking this early in the morning? I've got a mission later. Besides, this is a family reunion—I'm an outsider, I shouldn't intrude. The air here isn't great either; you should take her out for a walk."

Yang Shu nodded gratefully.

"Thank you..."

Luo Yu scratched the back of his head, looking helpless.

"I told you, no need to thank me."

But thinking that his efforts had reunited a family, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

As for the rest...

That was their own business.

...

On the official forum.

A new post appeared on the homepage.

["Operation Fire Extinguishing" has come to a successful conclusion. Event rewards have been distributed to player accounts. Please check and claim them.]

[New threats are emerging. The tide in Clearwater City is already showing signs. The aftermath of the three-year war has never ended—this is a continuation of two centuries ago—]

[The new event will officially begin in spring. For more details, please follow the official announcements. Stay tuned!]

The standout performers in the entire event were undoubtedly the tough guys of the Jungle Corps, followed by the Chimera armored vehicles of the Skeleton Corps.

That war machine, with its violent aesthetics, perfectly hit the aesthetic sweet spot for players and lurkers alike.

Everyone began eagerly anticipating the new spring event—the annual tide.

Across all of Clearwater City, probably only the little players of Vault 404 were this optimistic.

They not only weren't afraid of the tide after the warm winter but even hoped it would come more fiercely.

The soon-to-leave-the-nest Mother had no idea that in the eyes of certain Blue Coats, she—who made countless wastelanders tremble—had become a New Year beast dropping gold coins.

The forum was filled with a lively, cheerful atmosphere.

Besides showing off rewards from the last event and predicting the next one's content, the jokesters' focus was undoubtedly on Brother Night Ten.

Night Ten sadly discovered that whenever he popped up on the forum now, no matter what he said, the thread would go off-topic.

Maka Bazi: "Hahaha, isn't this Night Ten? Bro, where's your brother?"

Tail: "Maybe he's too shy. Tail thinks you should drop a hint. (///ω///)"

Irena: "Terrifying. I never knew Miss Teng Teng had such power of speaking things into existence. (Ridiculous)"

Teng Teng: "?"

Debt Big Eyes: "You're all wronging Brother Night Ten. Maybe he just didn't find it? (Ridiculous)"

Night Ten: "Screw off! MMP! I'm starting over right now! (｀Δ′)!"

Roller Shampoo: "Don't do it, bro. Your gear is so awesome—starting over would be such a waste. (Ridiculous)"

That hit the nail on the head.

Starting over wasn't really hard, especially for veteran players who did it often.

The key was that it was hard to let go.

Though he had lost one tool, that electric discharge ability was just too damn strong!

No exaggeration—it was even stronger than Spring Water's shield-boosted Blastoise set.

His hands weren't just for stunning people; he could pick up any conductor and fire it like an electromagnetic cannon.

Yes.

Even silver coins worked.

Taking out all the silver coins from the VM, he could even kill someone with money.

Moreover, the arc released directly through the energy-storing capacitor could theoretically even break through the defense of the deflector shield!

And the most absurd thing was that even though most of his body parts had been replaced, his perception was not weakened as a result, nor did his experience gain suffer much.

Fang Chang's speculation on this was that the perception attribute, unlike agility, does not strengthen the optic and olfactory nerves; in fact, it enhances the brain's ability to process incoming signals.

In other words, the perception system is similar to the intelligence system: as long as the brain is not modified, or only limited modifications are made, it won't have much impact on experience gain.

Because his strength was too outrageous, Gale even wanted to swap heads with him.

Without a second's hesitation, Night Ten refused without even thinking.

Canyon Escaping Mole: "According to the typical nature of RPG games, hidden features require affinity to unlock. Why don't you try raising the rich woman's affinity? Maybe she'll install it for you voluntarily? (Rolleyes)"

Night Ten: "Holy crap, really?!"

Canyon Escaping Mole: "How the hell would I know? Try it yourself and find out. (Rolleyes)"

Actually, in Ideal City, you could buy a wider variety of bionic parts with more flashy functions.

The only uncertainty was whether they were compatible with the cybernetic bodies made by the Academy.

But he thought this was all trivial.

In "Wasteland OL," even lives cost three days each; worrying about this was too narrow-minded.

If he really needed it urgently.

Not to mention installing one, installing several was not a problem.