Chapter 679: 'Art' Is the Primary Productive Force

Chapter 679: "Art" Is the Primary Productive Force

Vault 404, Level B4.

Sun Yuechi stepped through the access door into the viewing room, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at Chu Guang sitting on the sofa.

"What's the matter, so late at night?"

Since arriving in Dawn City, he had fully adapted to life here: working nine-to-five on weekdays, wandering the streets of Dawn City on weekends.

In his own words, Dawn City was no less bustling than North Island in the Southern Sea. Though its abundance of goods fell far short of what the equatorial zone offered, the people here somehow managed to create wonders from limited materials.

Especially in terms of cuisine.

After tasting braised pork trotters rice once, he wished he could devour it three times a day, lamenting that what he had eaten for the past thirty years was practically pig slop.

In his view, the only flaw of this settlement was its weak foundation. Perhaps due to its rapid expansion, many supporting infrastructures had yet to catch up.

Since he happened to be an expert in communication engineering, he found a job at a local telecom company as a technical advisor, working on laying out communication base station networks and planning channels—contributing his share to the reconstruction of civilization.

As for Chu Guang, he had been busy these days planning the "Slime Research Consortium," maneuvering among the three major factions—the Corporation, the Academy, and the Legion—and a swarm of smaller groups clamoring for aid from the big players. He had no time to spare for the distant Southern Sea, let alone interact with this former Overseer of Vault 70.

Watching Sun Yuechi sit down across from him with a bewildered look, Chu Guang pulled out a holographic stylus and placed it on the table, activating a blue holographic image.

It was a half-length portrait sketched by Xiao Qi based on clues reported by players.

It had to be said, it bore some resemblance to the real person.

"Do you know this man?"

Staring at the image for a while, Sun Yuechi frowned, then looked at Chu Guang in surprise.

"Huang Guangwei?"

So he did know him.

Chu Guang looked at the former Overseer of Vault 70, his expression turning subtle.

Unable to read Chu Guang's face, Sun Yuechi asked in confusion,

"What happened to him?"

Chu Guang thought for a moment, then spoke.

"He... found our settlement near the Baixia Strait, told us some things about the Southern Sea, and then asked to meet you."

Sun Yuechi stared blankly at him.

"Why does he want to see me..."

After studying his expression for a moment, Chu Guang suddenly said,

"Did you know that Vault 70 and the Southern Archipelago Federation are at war?"

"What?!" The moment he heard those words, Sun Yuechi froze, his mouth agape, as if struck speechless.

That dumbfounded look didn't seem feigned.

But then again, Chu Guang mused, if he heard that Vault 404 and the Alliance were fighting, he'd probably be thunderstruck too, unable to fathom how those two could come to blows.

Besides, the Southern Sea was over two thousand kilometers away from Dawn City; it was normal for news not to reach here. The *Survivor's Daily* only reported on matters concerning Chipao Port, without detailed coverage of the Southern Sea.

"Anyway, that's how it is," Chu Guang said, tapping the stylus lightly with his index finger, dimming the pale blue glow hovering above its tip. "But our people feel there might be some doubts behind this war. More clues need further investigation."

"Wait, how could they start fighting?!" As if snapping back to reality, Sun Yuechi gaped in astonishment, his face turning from ruddy to pale. "When I left, I never authorized the use of the armory—why would—"

"Maybe that's exactly why," Chu Guang interrupted, fixing his gaze on him. "According to Mr. Huang Guangwei, when they were attacked by the Southern Archipelago Federation, they were completely overwhelmed. Except for a few scattered submersibles still resisting independently across the vast sea, most of the Vault's personnel have retreated entirely into Vault 70."

"Where is he now?!"

Sun Yuechi suddenly sat upright on the sofa, staring intently at Chu Guang.

Chu Guang looked into his eyes and continued,

"He'll set off from Chipao Port tomorrow morning. You'll see him in two days."

Strangely, the man who had been so eager to meet his compatriot just moments ago now seemed uneasy at the news that he would arrive in two days.

Guessing what troubled him, Chu Guang sighed softly.

"He's your countryman. I think you should see him. And from what my people tell me, when they found him on the beach, he was barely alive."

Sun Yuechi's Adam's apple bobbed, but no words came out.

His eyes were filled with complex emotions.

After a long pause, he spoke slowly,

"Was it... the Southern Archipelago Federation that attacked him?"

"I don't think so," Chu Guang said, his voice soft as he looked into those eyes that flickered with a glimmer of hope. "According to his description, his pursuers were a group of blue-skinned amphibious mutants. They operate in the northern part of the Southern Sea—"

"It must be the Torch!" Sun Yuechi's eyes widened, his fists clenched on his knees, his voice trembling with rage. "Those bastards... they're the only ones who don't hesitate to cooperate with mutants! This war must be their doing behind the scenes!"

Chu Guang nodded.

"That's what I think too. But convincing both sides to cease fire isn't easy, especially when one side has a clear advantage."

Sun Yuechi looked at Chu Guang pleadingly.

"Please, help us! I've already handed over the Vault's authority to you—"

Chu Guang's eyes sharpened, and he cut him off without mercy.

"If I had known it would come to this, I'd rather you hadn't. At least half the chaos in the Southern Sea today is because you walked away and shed the responsibility that was yours too soon."

At those last words, Sun Yuechi's face twisted in pain. He clasped his hands together and rested them on his nose.

Chu Guang didn't press him further. Instead, his tone softened.

"Now we have to take things one step at a time. The spark of the war was the destruction of the ocean current power station. Both sides have their own stories. First, we need to determine whether the Federation staged it themselves or the Torch Church instigated it from behind. Do you have anyone trustworthy among the high-ranking officials of the Federation? We want to investigate the real cause of the power station's destruction."

Sun Yuechi said bitterly,

"When I left, things hadn't deteriorated this far... Sure, the settlements that formed the Federation pressured us, but that was it. Otherwise, I wouldn't have traveled so far."

Seeing how clueless this guy was, Chu Guang couldn't help but rub his forehead.

He really wanted to snap at him—how the hell did he manage his job as Overseer?

The Federation's navy didn't just appear out of thin air, did it?

If the survivors in the Southern Sea had already split into two factions over the introduction of Nago fruit before he left, he should at least know which side was shouting the loudest.

Just as Chu Guang was racking his brains, Sun Yuechi suddenly brightened, as if remembering something.

"Wait, there's someone... who might be able to help you."

Chu Guang asked immediately,

"Who?"

"Mu Da! I'll write it down for you!"

With that, Sun Yuechi picked up the pen and notepad on the coffee table and hastily scribbled a line.

He didn't just write the name.

He also casually wrote something like a letter of introduction, briefly explaining the situation and expressing a request to assist in investigating the destroyed ocean current power station.

Chu Guang took the note he handed over, stared at the words on it for a moment, and asked hesitantly.

"This person is?"

Meeting Chu Guang's inquiring gaze, Sun Yuechi spoke earnestly.

"Before I left, he was the captain of the Southern Sea Patrol Team, a pretty decent young man. On the issue of the Torch Church, his stance leans toward the middle, or rather, he's not very interested in whether to introduce that Nago."

"I'm not sure what he's doing now... but if he's still on the patrol team, he should be able to help you all!"

...

Early morning.

The port of Ring Island.

Director Steward, with a beer belly, yawned with a mouth as wide as a hippo's, fumbled around his belt for a while to find the key, and with a couple of clinks, opened the door to the port office.

He had just sat down at his desk when the sound of a ship's horn from outside the window interrupted his unfinished dream.

He stared blankly out the window.

When he saw the cargo ship docked at the port, flying the White Bear flag, pulling up its anchor chain, Director Steward was first taken aback, then his mouth dropped open in surprise, and he sprang up from his chair in delight.

Unbelievable!

That Nougat, which had been stubbornly lingering at the port, had actually pulled up its anchor?!

Without a second thought, he grabbed his hat from the desk, hurriedly stepped over the door that had been closed for less than half a minute, and rushed down the stairs outside the port office to the dock.

Quite a few people were gathered by the port, mostly dockworkers and some passersby.

Watching the departing Meat Meat, many young faces showed expressions of regret.

What a pity.

They hadn't even had time to ask the name of their dream girl before they had to say goodbye to this ship.

Not far away, a short-haired girl stood by the ship's railing, waving vigorously toward the port.

"Whoa! Goodbye, friends of Ring Island! Thank you for hosting us all this time—we've caused you plenty of trouble. Meat Meat will remember this favor!"

Meat Meat, leaning against the railing, quickly turned her head to look at her.

"Giao! Why does it have to be me who remembers?"

Tail winked playfully.

"Hehe, don't sweat the small stuff!"

"Hehe my foot!"

Though he didn't want to see her again at all, Steward still put on a friendly act, waving his hat and calling out insincerely.

"Bon voyage! Drop by anytime!"

Just never come back!

Not catching the unwelcome tone in his voice, Tail, having freed herself from Meat Meat's bear claws, shouted back cheerfully, raising her volume.

"Whoa! For sure, for sure!"

Her joyful voice faded with the lengthening horn of the cargo ship.

Watching the departing vessel, Director Steward happily placed his hat back on his head.

Thank heavens!

Finally rid of those plague-bringers!

Shortly after the Meat Meat left the port, Mogavi, standing on the deck of the Northwest Wind cargo ship, looked at Captain Song Haining beside him and said with a smile.

"Captain, shall we set sail too?"

Song Haining didn't say much, just called out to the back of the deck.

"Weigh anchor!"

The Northwest Wind, docked at the pier, also sounded its horn.

It had been three days since this cargo ship arrived at this port.

In those three days, the Moon Tribe girls from the Meat Meat had not only helped him process over a thousand pieces of fur but also scrubbed the Northwest Wind from stem to stern, leaving the deck so clean and shiny it looked waxed!

Now, not a trace of the rotten meat stench lingered on the ship; instead, a faint fragrance of young women wafted through the air.

Maybe it was just psychological!

Faced with the reborn Northwest Wind, Captain Song Haining could find no fault.

Thanks to this, Mogavi's relationship with the old captain had eased, no longer as tense as it had been three days ago.

The old captain had stopped shouting about throwing him and his cargo overboard, merely reiterating that unsealed fresh goods shouldn't be left on the deck.

Now, the cargo on the Northwest Wind had changed from iron ore and coal to several stacks of precious furs, a dozen crates of pearls, shells, coral, and other aquatic products, along with some industrial goods that the Hump Kingdom was short of.

Once this ship docked at Silver Moon Bay, the journey would be complete.

But the trip wasn't over yet, and he was already planning the next one.

That blessed spot called Fries Port, nestled at the eastern outlet of the Baiyue Strait, would inevitably be discovered by other passing merchant ships sooner or later.

Once a stable shipping route formed and competitors joined in, making a fortune like last time would be far harder!

Like Mogavi, Captain Song Haining gazed at the sea to the west, standing by the railing, and suddenly spoke.

"If only that port could be built sooner."

Mogavi looked at Captain Song Haining in surprise, delighted.

"My friend, have you finally changed your mind about them?"

"I never had a bad impression of them—at most, initial caution. What I truly dislike are people who break their word." Song Haining gave him a meaningful look.

"Alright, my friend, I've cleaned everything up for you. Let's let bygones be bygones." Mogavi chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his nose.

Song Haining looked away from him, turning his gaze back toward the Baiyue Strait.

"To be fair, they work very diligently. If they're still there next time, I might come back to have my ship cleaned by them."

How about starting a ship-cleaning company?

The idea suddenly popped into his head, and the more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed.

At his age, continuing to sail was becoming a strain—he even had to keep a chair in the wheelhouse to sit and rest now and then.

Having spent so many years at sea, he knew plenty of captains, both young lads and old salts like himself, and he got along well with them.

If he really started a ship-cleaning business, finding customers shouldn't be a problem...

...

And so, under the morning sunlight, the Meat Meat and the Northwest Wind, two cargo ships, led by a patrol boat through the minefields, sailed one after the other toward the eastern entrance of the Baiyue Strait.

Meanwhile, south of Fries Port, a team of strength-type beasts in exoskeletons were carrying tropical teak logs, nearly ten meters long and stripped of branches, toward the coastline.

Among all types of timber, teak had the smallest deformation coefficient and the best bending resistance. It was not only quite wear-resistant but also, having grown in the rainforest, had excellent resistance to humid environments. In the absence of large quantities of steel and concrete, it made a decent substitute.

The only flaw that could hardly be called a flaw was probably the weight of this thing.

Among these logs, even the lightest weighed nearly a ton, and even when carried with a miner's exoskeleton, the burden on the body was not insignificant.

However, that was only for ordinary people.

For the strength-type beasts, this load was merely moderate.

But the beach could not withstand their feet; often, with one step, the soft sand would submerge up to their calves.

After a few rounds of back and forth, the rows of footprints left on the beach looked like fields plowed by an old ox.

And at this moment, at the end of those rows of footprints, were neatly arranged wooden stakes fixed in the sand.

These stakes were the foundation of the dock.

By laying wooden strips vertically and covering them with planks horizontally, a simple dock could be considered built.

Although the shareholders of Fries Port had already decided to hire the construction team from Ideal City to build the dock, a project worth tens of millions of Credits was clearly not something that could be finalized in a day or two.

From bidding to tendering, to design proposals, and finally to groundbreaking, there was a long process to go through, and before that, Fries Port could not simply watch cargo ships slip away from their sight.

Therefore, everyone unanimously decided that before the formal port construction was completed, they would first build several wooden docks extending into deep water on the beach to the south, making do for now.

Later, when the concrete port for freight was built, this wooden dock would not go to waste; it would be directly converted into a yacht berth and a passenger terminal for tourists to board and disembark.

Although the port was not yet in sight, the small players of Fries Port had already planned out the future tourism industry.

Now, after nearly three days of construction, the dock extending into deep water had been outlined by the players working on it.

Although loading and unloading cargo still had some difficulties, with caution, walking on it was basically no problem.

Without any engineering ships or professional dock construction equipment, this construction speed was already quite outrageous.

However, this construction team of all awakened individuals was probably unique even in the wasteland.

Later, they would bring large stones from the nearby hills and pile them near the dock foundation to reinforce the base.

By then, not only would people be able to board and disembark, but loading and unloading cargo would also be fine.

Wearing an exoskeleton, Spare-the-Blade carried a pile-driving hammer on his shoulder, raised his arm to wipe the seawater splashed on his face, and shouted to his brothers working hard.

"Everyone, put in more effort! Let's try to get the dock done today!"

"Oooh!" The players swinging hammers on the beach responded with uneven shouts, but they lacked the drive they had when driving the first stake three days ago.

But that was inevitable.

The freshness of players was always a parabola.

Although the construction team paid decent wages, doing the same repetitive work over and over would more or less subjectively affect production enthusiasm.

Usually, lost morale could be compensated from other aspects.

Including material rewards and spiritual satisfaction.

For example, when working in Dawn City, they not only received rewards equal to their labor but also cheers of "Awesome!" from the onlookers.

However, working here, surrounded by their own people, it got a bit boring after a while.

"Brother Blade! When will our port spawn NPCs?"

"Could it be that they won't spawn?"

"The damn planner never said that building houses would definitely bring people, right?"

"Damn!"

Hearing everyone's complaints, Spare-the-Blade coughed and said, painting a rosy picture.

"Brothers, don't panic! Maybe NPCs will spawn once the dock is built!"

As luck would have it, just as his words fell, movement appeared on the distant sea.

A sharp-eyed strength-type player looked up, glanced toward the southeast, and suddenly shouted as if discovering a new continent.

"Brother Blade! A ship is coming from the east... oh no, it seems like two!"

As his words fell, before Brother Blade could react, the surrounding players became excited, stopping their work and looking in the direction the brother pointed.

"Holy shit?"

"Really?"

Spare-the-Blade also looked up and indeed saw the increasingly clear silhouette of the ships.

Seeing the flag, he was stunned for a moment, then his eyes lit up, and he immediately shouted.

"It's Tail and the others!"

Hearing this, the beasts who had been slightly tired a second ago suddenly became energized.

Not because of Tail.

But because of the thousand or so beautiful sisters in maid outfits on Tail's ship!

Why were they working so hard?

Wasn't it to make Fries Port lively sooner!

"Good heavens, finally NPCs are spawning!"

"Brothers, put in more effort! Our dock is almost done!"

"Art!!!"

"Awooo!"

"Holy shit, you guys are too real!"

This time, without Spare-the-Blade shouting, the strength-type beasts became as excited as if they had been injected with chicken blood.

Under everyone's desperate efforts, the dock, which had looked like a construction site, instantly spread a stretch toward the shore at a visible speed.

Not only was Spare-the-Blade dumbfounded, but even Sisi, standing on the deck holding binoculars, was dumbfounded.

Watching those howling and wailing guys, her lips unconsciously opened and closed, and she muttered blankly.

"What... are they so excited about?"

As she spoke, she subconsciously turned her head to look at Awei beside her, her intuition telling her that this guy should know something.

Clearly knowing why Sisi was looking at him, Tail's expression subtly turned away, and he tried to bluff by whistling, but after trying to whistle for a long time, no sound came out.

"Ahaha... haha..." Looking at the distant beach, Sesame Paste smiled with some trouble.

Her hearing was extraordinary, and facing the blowing sea breeze, she could hear what those friends were cheering about.

But...

She might as well pretend not to have heard.