Chapter 677: Help Me, for the Sake of Being Fellow Vault Dwellers!

Chapter 677: Help Me, for the Sake of All Shelter Residents!

The sun had sunk into the sea, and the night at Ring Island Port was serene, yet two hundred nautical miles away, Fries Port was bustling with chaos.

In the forest, flashes of fire, explosions, and gunfire rose and fell, the communication channels filled with clamorous shouts, occasionally punctuated by the hisses and wails of mutants.

The remote weapon station atop the "Husky" tracked vehicle kept firing, pouring 20mm rounds into the pitch-black jungle, while the grenade launcher mounted on its side thumped intermittently, sending bursts of smoke-laden fire through the trees.

Under siege was the scientific expedition convoy that had ventured deep into the ruins of Shilong City.

Half an hour ago, they had arrived at the site of a signal receiving station, intending to retrieve the coordinates and identification codes of astronomical observation satellites stored on the local server’s hard drive.

If they could reconnect to the satellite, they might recover the access records and historical IPs saved on the satellite’s memory, thereby illuminating a vast array of high-value targets worth exploring on the map.

For the excavation of the entire city’s ruins, this signal station was like the key to the first door of a labyrinth.

Yet no one had anticipated that when the vanguard squad of the Jungle Corps entered the signal station, what awaited them was a massive nest of mutated ants!

In fact, when they saw the meter-wide tunnel, a foreboding feeling had already crept into their hearts. And when they entered the database, that feeling quickly became reality.

One after another, dark green mutated aphids filled the entire passage, leaving almost no room to step—this place had been transformed by the mutated ants into a pasture for raising aphids!

A knee-high mutated soldier ant soon spotted them, and a fierce battle erupted in the narrow corridor.

Three players risked their lives to charge into the database, filled with sticky bugs, and following the prompts on their exoskeleton helmet visors, they pried open the chitin-covered chassis and yanked out the motherboard with the hard drive attached.

Of the ten players who had first entered the ruins, only five returned alive, and among the remaining four, one had lost an arm.

With their colony’s pasture destroyed, the furious ant swarm surged out of the nest like a black tide, lunging at the group near the tracked vehicle.

These bugs were far stronger than the little ones in Shelter 100.

Especially the soldier ants of the colony.

They possessed not only sickle-like, massive, and sharp mandibles but also the vitality to survive multiple gunshots and the strength to bite through tree trunks in a single snap.

Under the queen’s orders, they trampled over the corpses of their fallen kin, charging relentlessly toward the tracked vehicle.

Even though the Alliance’s firepower was fierce enough, their numbers were simply overwhelming, seemingly endless.

“MMP! These are way tougher than the Green Skins in Jinchuan Province!” Groundhog, his ears ringing from the incessant gunfire, shouted hoarsely while tensely holding down the continuously firing light machine gun.

“Reload! Cover me!” Pressing down on the overheated, red-hot barrel, Paratrooper from Pilsburg knocked out the empty drum magazine and grabbed a fresh one from his back, hastily slamming it in.

Just then, an RPG trailing white smoke shot past his head, showering him with sparks and thick smoke.

“Damn! What the hell—” Before he could finish coughing, the rocket slammed into a tree trunk just over twenty meters away.

The instant-detonation thermobaric bomb erupted in a ball of fire and white smoke, shaking the surrounding bushes, and a dozen mutated ants, as if struck by a heavy hammer, screeched in agony as the scorching blast flattened them to the ground.

The group gained a brief moment to catch their breath, but before they could rest, the ant tide surged forward again like a flood.

“There are too many of them!” A player, freeing his index finger to press on his helmet, shouted into the communication channel.

Just as they were about to break, the long-awaited retreat order finally came through the channel.

“…The hard drive has been recovered. All squads, retreat along the planned route!”

“Roger!”

Groundhog, holding the machine gun, folded the bipod and trudged with heavy steps through the soft grass and branches, retreating toward the tracked vehicle.

The group took turns firing at the ant swarm, retreating and shooting in teams of three, until they finally reached the vicinity of the “Husky” tracked vehicle.

The bulldozer-like vehicle had already turned around and, with fire support from four ten-man squads, was retreating back the way they came.

Seeing the scattered remains, a player looked reluctant and reached out to grab some material to take back for study, but nearly had his arm bitten off by a still-living mutated ant.

Fortunately, the squad leader nearby saw this and promptly fired a burst to finish off the ant, pulling the unlucky guy back from the brink of death.

“Are you out of your damn mind?!” The leader cursed at the fool clutching a mutated ant corpse. “What kind of time is this to be looting bodies?!”

The player chuckled and rubbed his helmet.

“I just wanted to take one back for research…”

Too lazy to argue with him, the leader shoved his shoulder toward the tracked vehicle and urged him on.

“Hurry up! Get it on the vehicle! We’re leaving!”

The Alliance had no aircraft deployed in this area, so no air support was available. Fortunately, during the day, the Burning Corps had built a temporary artillery position near the camp, and among the support weapons shipped from Dawn City were 155mm howitzers.

Using the tracked vehicle’s radio, Midnight Chicken quickly contacted the rear allies and reported the situation.

“This is the Jungle Corps. We’re under heavy siege by an ant swarm. Coordinates 1091, 1222… Requesting fire support extending north!”

Static crackled in the earpiece, followed by a reply from the allies.

“Roger! The 155mm artillery position is in place. Give us one minute!”

“Hurry the hell up!”

Shouting into the channel, Midnight Chicken hung up and immediately swung the chainsaw welded to his left arm’s prosthetic at a mutated ant lunging at him.

With a grinding screech, the chitin shell, smeared with yellowish mucus, shattered under the chainsaw’s blow, and a half-human-high mutated soldier ant was cleaved cleanly in two!

Without pausing, as another soldier ant bit from the side, Midnight Chicken raised the bolter barrel welded to his right arm and fired a blast.

A long, thick tongue of flame flashed, and the 19mm shotgun round slammed into the ant’s forehead, riddling its massive head and mandibles with holes.

Standing amidst the ant swarm like a god of slaughter, his sweeping, powerful attacks had already claimed countless “heads.”

Seeing the squads locked in close combat with the mutants, he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

“Hold on! Fire support is coming!”

Inspired by his roar, the tough men of the Jungle Corps unleashed the same ferocity they had shown when slaughtering mutants, pulling out entrenching tools and felling axes from their exoskeletons and engaging the soldier ants in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

A strength-based player tossed aside his broken felling axe, grabbed a cobblestone from the ground, and with brute force pounded the soldier ant pinning him down into pulp.

Another rookie, who had just joined the corps, was even more savage. After having both legs severed by a mutant ant’s mandibles, he grabbed one of his own severed calves, still attached by sinew and flesh, and beat the half-human-high ant’s head into a bloody mess with relentless blows.

The battle had finally descended into the Jungle Corps’ specialty: melee chaos.

Fueled by the bloodshed, everyone’s eyes were bloodshot.

For a moment, it was impossible to tell who was human and who was beast.

“Madness! Absolute madness!”

Groundhog howled, tossing aside his empty machine gun, grabbing a woodcutter’s axe, and charging in to hack away like mincing meat.

In just one minute, the fifty-man squad’s casualties had neared thirty percent!

Though the ant swarm had also suffered heavy losses, these creatures knew nothing of death, and the word “retreat” didn’t exist in their dictionary.

Just as the group’s situation grew dire, the artillery strike Midnight Chicken had called a minute ago finally arrived.

Right on time.

Flashes of fire streaked into the sky with thunderous roars, then seconds later rained down like hail on the dense forest ahead of the Jungle Corps.

Explosions of fire and smoke bloomed like carnivorous flowers in the rainforest, and the writhing mutated ants fell like mown wheat, torn apart by shrapnel and scorching blasts.

The first barrage was just a prelude.

Before the ants could recover, the second wave followed.

The roaring artillery extended five hundred meters due north, blasting the entire rainforest into a mess, with broken branches and vines strewn everywhere, and black mud flung from the ground up to the canopy.

"Alas!"

"Nice work!"

Having dealt with the few surviving mutant ants, the group put away their slime-covered felling axes and heat-reddened gun barrels, letting out cheers of relief at having escaped death.

The researchers on the tracked vehicle also breathed a sigh of relief.

Apart from Meng Liang, who had been to the front lines with Chu Guang, most of the people here were experiencing such proximity to the battlefield for the first time.

Listening to the clatter of shell casings falling on the vehicle's roof, many felt their hearts leap into their throats.

Wiping the sweat from his face, Meng Liang forced a relaxed look at his subordinates and squeezed out a comforting smile for the researchers.

"See, I told you... it's not that scary." As he spoke, he even shook his leg smugly, hiding the weakness in his calves.

The others looked at Brother Meng with a surge of admiration, thinking to themselves that he was indeed someone who had seen the world alongside the Administrator.

But they didn't know.

Though this guy had indeed been to the front lines with the Administrator, that "front line" was limited to the bridge of an airship.

A situation like this, with bullets flying everywhere, was something he was encountering for the first time.

It would be abnormal not to panic.

The battle outside was over.

The mutant ant colony, heavily battered by the 155mm artillery fire, had completely fallen silent.

In the rain-soaked forest shrouded by night, the ground was littered with crippled mutant ants, missing limbs and unable to stand, flailing their remaining legs in the pungent smell of gunpowder.

Seeming to realize that chasing their prey was no longer possible, some smaller-jawed mutant worker ants began emerging from the nest, dragging the injured mutant soldier ants back inside.

But by now, they had become a tempting morsel for other predators in the forest. Many creatures, catching the scent of food, sensed an opportunity for a feast and began eyeing the area hungrily.

Clearly, the bloodthirst and cruelty of this rainforest were not reserved solely for outsiders; the cold law of the jungle equally blessed every creature that set foot on this land.

For the mutant ant tribe entrenched beneath the ruins of the signal relay station, tonight might be especially long and harsh.

But for the players who had inadvertently stumbled in here, that was no longer their concern...

"Damn... I actually survived."

Pushing aside the half of a corpse lying on top of him, the hardworking prostrate man shook his groggy head and climbed to his feet.

Picking up the machine gun he had dropped earlier, he limped back toward the rear with the help of his teammates, following the tracks of the tracked vehicle as they left the battlefield.

After advancing two kilometers southwest, each squad took stock and reported their casualties.

Counting the unlucky ones who had finished themselves off after being severely wounded, a total of twenty players had died in the operation, and most of the remaining thirty were injured.

The battle could only be described as brutal.

But in contrast, their achievements were equally astonishing.

The data stored on the hard drive was largely intact. Now all that remained was for the scientific expedition team and the experts from Camp 101 to decipher the contents of the hard drive and then retrieve data from satellites tens of thousands of kilometers away.

It wouldn't take long.

Once that was done, they could synchronize onto the map all research facilities within dozens of square kilometers that had data links with that satellite.

...

The night was deep, darkness shrouding the rainforest. On the silent coastline, only the scattered campfires of the port and the dappled moonlight floating on the waves remained.

Stepping along the edge of the campfire, the burly men of the Jungle Corps, who had been raising hell in the woods all day, returned arm in arm to the French Fries Port on the coast.

Their exoskeletons were covered with scratches, dents, and the saliva and blood of mutants. A few pieces of battered wreckage had lost their owners.

Watching these scarred warriors and the intact tracked vehicle, the researchers of the scientific expedition team, who were sorting samples at the settlement's entrance, cast them astonished glances, and then one by one, their eyes shone with a glimmer of gratitude.

Thanks to those admirable people, they could focus on what they were good at without worrying about death lurking at any moment.

Death had always existed on this wasteland; it had never left their side.

It was just that someone else bore it all for them...

Moved by the tragic atmosphere, a few researchers standing near the recovery point silently raised their right fists to their left chests, saluting the staggering figures with the Alliance's military salute.

What a bunch of admirable folks!

...

At the same time, south of French Fries Port, not far from the beach, stood the only tavern in this port.

The tavern had a rather unique name: "The One-Man Tavern." As the name suggested, from the bar to the kitchen, it was run by just one person. Sometimes, customers had to pour their own drinks or even wash their glasses at the nearby sink.

But most players didn't mind. Even if they did, they had no choice—this was the only tavern in the entire settlement.

Even if it was open-air.

The owner here was called [Drunken Smiling Beauty], a life-profession player who had gotten a helmet during the beta test. His specialty was frying various fish and chips.

In his own words, these two dishes were so simple that even someone without hands could make them, making them perfect for a clumsy player like him with cooking skills close to zero.

As for the taste...

Well, if you're here to drink, why care about the taste?

A drunk person only struggles with disconnecting; what they put in their mouths doesn't really matter.

A group of players sat by the beach, drinking beer and eating fried fish and chips, exchanging information from their daytime adventures.

"Damn, there's a group of mutant lizards living on the high ground to the northwest. At first glance, I thought they were freaking dinosaurs! Good thing I'm a perception-type and spotted them first; almost lost my ticket before making it back!"

"You took that exploration mission?"

"Yeah! The mission difficulty said E, recommended level LV10. I fell for it!"

"Hahaha!"

"Your luck is insane!"

"I heard submitting battle footage can get the mission reclassified. If you encounter three A-level or one S-level threat mutant, it can be upgraded to A-level, and the silver coins and contribution points increase a lot."

"Really? I'll try that later!"

"Speaking of which, we should have brought Garbage-kun here. This is his turf."

"Good idea! Maybe it could help our bro Garbage solve his girlfriend problem."

"Haha! You're trying to kill your dad with laughter."

"By the way, what's that guy been up to lately? Haven't seen him in Dawn City."

"He never came back from Jinchuan Province. Seems like he and Qiangren Suonan got addicted to playing prophets there."

"Wow."

"Playing prophet, huh."

As the group chatted in surprise, a noisy crowd of Jungle Corps men, having shed their gear, came walking over.

Unlike their state when they first returned to camp, these guys didn't look like they had just lost teammates at all. Their faces were filled with exhilaration and satisfaction, as if they had just won a closely contested ball game.

For missions issued by the scientific expedition team, 70% of equipment losses were reimbursed. If individuals had purchased additional insurance for their gear, the compensation rate could even reach 90%.

They could go all out and have fun, because in the end, someone else was footing the bill.

The reward for the mission would be calculated comprehensively based on parameters such as actual difficulty, the ratio of casualties to gains, and the completion of side quests.

Encountering the ant swarm was an unforeseen circumstance beyond the intelligence, yet they managed to retrieve the hard drive despite the accident.

This mission was at least an A+ rating; after deducting equipment and ammunition losses beyond the reimbursement limit, each person could easily get a four-figure bonus!

“MMP! This mission today was fucking thrilling!”

“Absolutely fucking awesome!”

“Hope we get more like this!”

“Haha, you had your fun, but Brother Guang got screwed over!”

“Doesn’t matter! Having fun is all that counts!”

Watching Old Bai drinking with a few brothers from the Burning Legion, Midnight Chicken Killer walked up, smiling, and extended his fist.

“Old Bai, you guys shot that artillery pretty well!”

Grinning, Old Bai raised his fist and bumped it against his.

“Of course! Those guys firing the artillery are all pros.”

Pulling up a stool to sit beside him, Midnight Chicken Killer asked with a smile.

“What about you guys? How was the haul today?”

Before Old Bai could speak, the Tool Master sitting nearby cut in with a cheeky grin.

“Not bad, just so-so. Today’s mission was mainly to be a third wheel and accompany Miss Chen on flower viewing.”

Ground Crawler Model: “Haha, being a third wheel is fine!”

“Don’t listen to this guy’s nonsense. It was a proper sampling mission. We packed up the samples and headed back.”

Meeting a pair of teasing and gossipy eyes, Old Bai cleared his throat and continued.

“…We ran into a few waves of attacks along the way, but the intensity was average. We even bagged some game; they’re roasting over there.”

He gestured with his chin toward the nearby beach.

There, Killing Dagger was with a few players, building a fire pit with cobblestones, next to a freshly skinned mutant leopard.

That leopard was much larger than the ones piled on the cargo during the day—probably some special breed evolved in this rainforest.

Irena, sitting on a stool nearby, swallowed hard, her eyes full of longing.

“Damn, that looks good.”

Though the fire wasn’t even lit yet, just looking at the raw meat slathered in marinade made the fries and fried fish on the plate seem unappetizing…

Seeing all eyes turn toward him, Old Bai laughed heartily and waved his hand generously.

“Help yourselves if you want to eat! Bring your own knives, forks, and beer!”

Rushing to the counter first, Ground Crawler Model grandly slapped a few bills on the table.

“Boss, two cases of beer! And… ten plates of fries!”

“The beer’s in the warehouse; go grab it for me.” Yi Ren, busy frying fries, didn’t even look up, staring intently at the stuff in the oil pot.

As if watching grenades with their pins pulled.

“Damn! Screw you!”

Seeing his dismissive attitude, Ground Crawler Model flipped him off hard but still scurried into the warehouse to fetch the beer.

Walking to the counter to pour himself a glass of lemonade, Piltover Paratrooper, watching Yi Ren overwhelmed, teased him.

“Bro, you should hire some waitstaff. Making customers fetch their own drinks, wash dishes—I’ve never seen such a cocky boss.”

Yi Ren looked up, laughing bitterly.

“You think I don’t want to?”

There were hardly any NPCs in this camp.

As for players, forget it.

These guys could afford the 600-silver ticket; obviously, they wouldn’t work as his lackeys.

And the newbies willing to do grunt work were mostly ten-percent freshmen who hadn’t even unlocked their VMs, let alone afford the 600-silver ticket or meet the level threshold to take the airship to the new map!

Ground Crawler Model bustled back and forth twice, finally moving the two cases of beer to the beach, distributing them to the crowd waiting for the fire to start.

Soon enough, Killing Dagger and Kidney Fighter managed to light the fire.

A few tough guys from the Jungle Legion lent a hand, hoisting the mutant leopard, weighing at least two or three hundred kilos, onto a makeshift stand.

Everyone moved their stools to sit around the fire, enjoying the sea breeze and beer, roasting meat and slicing bloody cuts.

Inhaling the intoxicating aroma of grilled meat, watching the sizzling, golden-brown fat over the fire, Old Bai couldn’t help but squint in contentment.

Beach, beer, barbecue…

This was truly adventure!

In contrast, life in Dawn City was a bit too comfortable. Though interesting, both the people and the things there, it always felt like something was missing compared to the early days of the server.

But after arriving at Fries Port, he suddenly realized what that missing thing was.

They had set foot on this land as residents of Vault 404, vowing to end the Wasteland Era and restore civilization.

Now, the wasteland of Clearwater City was over; the once death-filled abandoned city had become a training ground for newbies to practice their skills… There were no more missions there that could offer high-level players like them a richer gaming experience.

Though that was certainly good, they occasionally felt lonely.

Perhaps…

Only a life always on the road was truly suited for players like them.

Wondering if he was thinking the same thing, Elf King Wealth, sitting nearby, looked up at the clear night sky and the brilliant, star-filled river, suddenly speaking with melancholy.

“Speaking of which… at this rate, sooner or later, all wastelands will end, right? What will you guys do then?”

Taking a bite of crispy, golden leg meat, Irena said with a comical expression.

“Why think that far ahead? Besides, isn’t there still the pie five light-years away?”

Elf King Wealth looked at him and asked.

“What if the wasteland five light-years away ends too?”

“Then we’ll go check out even farther places!” Looking up at the dazzling starry river, Old Na chuckled. “Buy a spaceship and roam, see just how big this game’s map really is!”

Ground Crawler Model joked.

“Maybe it’s all just textures when you fly over.”

Irena laughed.

“Haha! Wouldn’t surprise me!”

Everyone chatted and laughed while eating and drinking. The fries ordered half an hour ago finally arrived at the table. Yi Ren clapped his hands, about to go back to frying fish, but the crowd, already seventy or eighty percent full, pulled him down to sit and drink with them.

Ground Crawler Model belched, stood up, and stretched, suddenly noticing what looked like a black oil drum on the beach.

To be precise, it was something shaped like an oil drum, about as tall as a person and as long as three or four people lying flat.

"Has something washed ashore?"

Hearing his voice, the crowd turned as one to look along the coastline, and they too all spotted that oddly shaped creature.

Just then, an arched door opened on the side of the cylinder, and someone seemed to roll out from inside.

He staggered to his feet on the sand, as if trying to leave the beach, but before he could steady himself, a wave half a man's height crashed over him, knocking him back down just as he had risen.

Fate seemed to be playing a joke on him.

Washed ashore with him was also a bobbing, mutated sea crab.

The crab shook its massive shell, ready to scuttle back into the sea, when it suddenly spotted the floundering figure on the beach and froze in its tracks.

Watching from afar, Old Bai narrowed his eyes slightly and set down the bottle in his hand.

Sensing the scent of a side quest, Kill Dagger, sitting nearby, perked up with interest and, without a word, put down the leg meat he had been gnawing on.

"I'll go help him!"

Ignoring Old Kidney's objections, he wiped his greasy hands on his buddy's clothes, then grabbed the assault rifle lying beside him, stepped forward, and fired two bursts into the sand, forcing the redirected mutated sea crab back a few steps.

Seizing the moment while the crab was stunned, he kept firing to draw its attention while dashing forward, dragging the poor drenched soul back from the beach.

A brother from the Jungle Corps skillfully picked up an absurdly large bolter, braced it against his shoulder, and pulled the trigger.

The recoil jolted his shoulder, but the 19mm bolt round that burst from the barrel was unerring, striking the sea crab's head dead-on.

A searing metal jet sprayed from the back of the beast's skull, and it collapsed silently on the beach.

"Stock up, brothers! We'll roast crab later!" The player chuckled, shaking his nearly dislocated shoulder, grabbed a fishing net, and ran up.

Meanwhile, the man soaked through with seawater was carried back by Kill Dagger, who supported him by the shoulders. The moment he let go, the man collapsed onto the ground, limp as if all strength had left him.

"Hey, take it easy."

"Thanks... thanks..."

The man on the ground was gaunt, with blue lips, curled up, shivering and repeating words of gratitude, heedless of what anyone else said.

His wet hair clung to his forehead, his face a mask of terror as he gasped for breath, his disheveled state suggesting he had encountered something dreadful.

Facing the confused gazes of the others, he seemed not to see them; his murky pupils wandered aimlessly, finally fixing on the greasy roast meat over the fire.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as if swallowing the last of his saliva, and his desperate eyes gradually filled with a craving for food.

Old Bai walked over, crouched in front of him, and handed him a piece of bread that Boss Yi hadn't yet fried and a cup of hot lemon water.

"Eat something first to settle your stomach."

The man nodded frantically, but as soon as he snatched the bread, he forgot his promise and wolfed it down.

Only after he had finished the bread and washed it down with water did Old Bai look him in the eye and ask.

"I'm Old Bai. And you? What's your name?"

The man panted heavily and spoke shakily.

"Huang... Huang Guangwei."

Old Bai continued.

"Where are you from?"

In an instant, the man eyed Old Bai warily, then quickly glanced around, clamped his mouth shut, and said not another word.

Seeing the caution in the man's eyes, Old Bai smiled faintly and spoke in a relaxed tone.

"Don't be afraid. We're from the Alliance. If you haven't heard of the Alliance... maybe you've heard of Vault 404."

With that, he pulled out his VM, tapped it twice, and activated the screen.

Watching the pale blue startup screen appear on the VM, the man visibly relaxed, and most of the wariness left his eyes.

Noticing this reaction, Old Bai had a good guess. He took out his earpiece, put it on, and pressed it with his index finger.

"Fang Chang, come to the One-Man Tavern. There's an NPC who might be from Vault 70."

After a moment's wait, Fang Chang's voice came through quickly.

"On my way."

And just as Old Bai had expected, the disheartened man slowly began to speak.

"I... I'm from Vault 70..."

Then he grabbed Old Bai's arm, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Help me... please, for the sake of us both being vault dwellers!"