Chapter 742: The Daily Life of the Allied Forces' Chief 'Mascot'

Chapter 742: The Daily Life of the Coalition’s Chief “Mascot”

“F-Five... Five hundred thousand?! Silver coins?!”

At the Scientific Expedition Corps, the Registration Office for Relics of the Age of Prosperity.

A sudden, piercing scream drifted out from the reception room with its tightly shut door, startling the crowd of people holding numbered tickets in line.

Everyone craned their necks toward the reception room, their faces unconsciously showing expressions of envy, even greed.

No need to ask; they could all guess what was happening in that small room, after all, they were “hunters” who made a living from this trade.

Long ago, the Alliance’s Scientific Expedition Corps had opened a channel for the paid recovery of relics from the Age of Prosperity.

And by now, “archaeology” had developed into a mature industrial chain within the Alliance.

Some were responsible for registration, some for appraisal, some for valuation and purchase, and others for persuasion and picking up bargains.

For scavengers who found treasures, if they chose the recovery channel of the Scientific Expedition Corps, they only needed to bring the item, fill out a form, and then patiently wait for up to seven working days to receive the appraisal result, finally deciding whether to nod or shake their heads.

For customers who didn’t want to sell, the Scientific Expedition Corps wouldn’t force them; they could take their items back.

However, since the researchers always offered good prices, most people signed without hesitation.

Many scavengers even traveled specifically from the eastern provinces, or even from the territory of the Science Council, to trade their treasures here, because the Alliance’s reputation was evident to all wastelanders.

With luck, a well-preserved relic from the Age of Prosperity could fetch a sky-high price of over a hundred thousand silver coins, allowing one to lie back and relax for the rest of their lives.

Even if the Scientific Expedition Corps didn’t take a fancy to it, the museum or Camp 101 might pick it up, and some Bluecoats from Vault 404 might also buy it.

For instance, that big boss running Goblin Tech often wasted money buying things that looked useless and actually were useless, just to tinker with them back home.

Many scavengers even made a living from this.

And after the inner city of Megaton collapsed, many former mercenary groups from that city had switched to this line of work.

Occasionally, they would cooperate with the Bluecoats from Vault 404 to explore some distant ruins or something.

But a seven-figure recovery price...

Even the big shots who made a living from scavenging hadn’t heard such a number in a while.

The crowd began whispering among themselves, guessing what treasure that lucky fellow had found.

“Could it be he found a spaceship or something?”

“I’m guessing a Titan!”

“Not likely... If there were such a thing, the people from the Institute would have picked it up ages ago.”

“I reckon it’s a treasure from some desolate, godforsaken corner.”

“True... Even if there were good stuff in places like that, the Construction Committee would have hauled it away by now.”

In theory, the Construction Committee had the most complete records; the people who knew best where the good stuff was on the wasteland were all in that organization.

By the time of the era of the three giants, the Institute had “inherited” the Construction Committee’s archaeological leads, scraping clean the places the Committee hadn’t managed to lick clean in half a century, and they scraped for a century and a half.

One could imagine how many true treasures were left on the wasteland.

While the crowd was buzzing with discussion, inside the reception room with its tightly shut door, a man with skin tanned a reddish-black stared with wide, astonished eyes.

Five hundred thousand silver coins!

When he heard that number, Ma Jinwei momentarily thought his ears were playing tricks on him.

But the researcher didn’t seem to be joking, handing him a stamped list.

“Of course, silver coins. If you want another currency, I can apply to my superiors.”

“No, no need, silver coins are fine!”

Ma Jinwei smiled with honest, simple good nature.

The reason he smiled like that wasn’t because he was particularly honest; it was simply because he had never seen so much money in his life and didn’t know what expression to wear.

Half a month ago, he was still farming in Mafu Town, never imagining that the iron lump in the old warehouse could make him such a fortune.

He only remembered that his grandfather had dragged it from the city over a hundred kilometers away, intending to fix it up as a tractor, but after puzzling over it for ages, he couldn’t figure out how to start the tractor, so he tossed it into the warehouse to gather dust.

It wasn’t until recently, when the Coalition declared war on the Torch, and he saw the letter the mayor sent back, that he remembered he could drag that thing out to exchange for money. After much hesitation, he finally decided to rent a train car and transport it to Dawn City to try his luck.

He vaguely remembered the strange looks the workers from Dawn City gave him when they used the loading crane at Mafu Town station to load the thing onto the train.

It was like they were looking at a monster.

After verifying the amount on the card, Ma Jinwei immediately pressed his fingerprint on the list, even thinking to share a bit with the two researchers who had handled the matter, but that startled them, and they waved their hands with a wry smile, refusing.

The Scientific Expedition Corps’ budget and benefits were arguably the highest in the entire Alliance.

Though their pay wasn’t as exaggerated as seven figures, they basically had no worries about food or clothing; there was no need to risk being watched by the Guard Corps for a bit of money that “wouldn’t change their lives.”

Besides, most of them hadn’t joined the Scientific Expedition Corps for the money, but to fulfill the ideal the Administrator had painted for them—to end the Wasteland Era.

On the wasteland, anyone who possessed knowledge or skills from the Age of Prosperity carried in their hearts some nostalgia and longing for that great era.

“...Friend, don’t test us with this kind of thing. Besides, we’re just on duty here doing registration; appraisal and valuation are handled by different systems. Even if you gave us gifts, it wouldn’t help.”

Ma Jinwei didn’t quite understand the researcher’s wry refusal.

After all, in Mafu Town, there weren’t so many complicated rules and strange procedures.

Seeing that they wouldn’t accept even a token of gratitude, he could only scratch the back of his head and smile apologetically to smooth things over.

“Oh, I see... Ha ha, you’ve worked hard.”

The researcher said with a smile.

“Not at all. We have our own performance metrics; in two months, we’ll be transferred to other departments for research work. If you find anything else, just come to this office again.”

“Got it! If I find anything, I’ll come right over. Thanks, I’ll be going now.” Ma Jinwei beamed, his hands fidgeting, nodding as he walked toward the door.

Back in town, he might use this money to open an inn.

But then again, it didn’t seem necessary to open one in Mafu Town; that place called “Kun Town” was clearly more lively.

Lately, many passengers getting off at Mafu Town were heading there, and he’d heard the Alliance was planning to build a prefectural city there, like Fallen Leaf City in the northwest.

Maybe he could take this money and try his luck there.

After all, getting rich by farming was still too hard.

Of course, before that, he had to go have some fun with his good buddies in town.

He had promised that if he really got the money, he’d treat them to a drink...

“Take care, and... this way, please.”

Seeing him about to leave through the main door, the researcher remembered something and pulled him aside to a back door leading directly to a secure corridor.

That shout of his earlier must have let everyone outside know he was carrying 500,000.

Though there was no worry within Alliance territory, out in the wasteland, it was another story.

Ma Jinwei was taken aback, then quickly understood, smiled, and nodded his thanks, glancing back every few steps as he left through the back door.

The office fell quiet.

The researcher who had been sitting silently in front of the computer glanced at the one standing.

"Isn't 500 million a bit too much?"

He always had a feeling that even if they gave that guy fifty million, he'd probably squander it all anyway, so it might as well disappear in a slightly more meaningful way.

Perhaps they should set up a fund for managing money and market it to those lucky souls who got rich purely by luck.

He had even proposed this idea to his superiors, but unfortunately, such a meaningful suggestion was rejected.

The researcher in charge of client reception, however, was thinking about something else and replied with a smile.

"Not too much. The Meissner Effect Armor... if we could get our hands on that thing, even adding two more zeros would still be a bargain."

Whether in terms of economic or military value, it was absolutely worth that much.

The Alliance had already mastered two types of shield technology, but both the deflector shield and the nitrogen shield had their own weaknesses.

For instance, the former was ineffective against low-speed, guided weapons, and because its technical principle relied on driving gravitons—a technology that was still new even during the Prosperity Era—it consumed enormous amounts of energy.

As for the latter, it couldn't handle high-speed or high-energy particle beams and could only be used in standard atmospheric conditions.

The Meissner Effect Armor was different from both; its specialty was countering metal weapons. Since most hard-core armor-piercing weapons used alloy materials, especially the electromagnetic cannons widely employed during the Prosperity Era, it could be said to be the nemesis of "hard-core armor-piercing rounds."

To put it simply, imagine that both the deflector shield and the Meissner Effect Armor used the same capacitors and power supply. The former could withstand one or two electromagnetic cannon shots, while the latter could handle three or four.

It was said that during the Three Years' War, some Alliance captains, under special circumstances, would even consider turning off the deflector shield and activating the more efficient Meissner Effect Armor to counter the dense firepower net created by rebel fleets using mass drivers, thereby increasing the fleet's overall resistance to metal projectiles.

If used properly, this could very well become a technology that influenced the course of the war.

From the limited intelligence available, even the Corporation might not have mastered this technology.

The researcher sitting at the computer twirled his pen and made a helpless expression.

"That makes sense too... but I just think giving him this money is utterly pointless. You've seen it yourself—he doesn't deserve such wealth. In other words, the thing is worth this much, but the person who found it isn't worth a dime."

If it had been a resident of Vault 404, he might not have had any objections.

After all, those guys were truly risking their lives for the reward, going to the most dangerous places in the wasteland, unlike that clueless farmer who just got lucky and struck it rich.

After hearing his words, the researcher in charge of client reception smiled and said,

"Meaning, my friend, never say that. 'Meaning' is the most fragile thing to scrutinize. If you have to think about whether everything has meaning, the final result will inevitably be that nothing has meaning."

The researcher sitting at the computer looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

Walking over to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup, the researcher in charge of client reception said slowly,

"It means that the close relative of a pragmatist is a nihilist, after all, human likes and dislikes are ever-changing. Today you think he's undeserving, tomorrow you'll think they're all undeserving. So we must establish a rule that can never be blurred and ensure it is executed impartially. Even if that rule becomes outdated one day, it must be changed only after thorough discussion... not based on your or my judgment."

This was from Mr. Yin Fang's speech during the third internal meeting of the scientific expedition team.

That big shot, coming from the Institute as a top-tier talent, was quite adept at both academic work and management. It was said that the entire Alliance's scientific research and archaeological system was built by him single-handedly.

To be honest, he secretly admired Yin Fang, especially after learning about that guy's legendary experiences.

The researcher sitting at the computer shrugged, listlessly tapped the screen, and selected the next lucky person on the list.

"I'm not interested in that kind of stuff. I just want to finish this work here quickly and go to the lab to do something meaningful."

The researcher holding the coffee cup smiled and said,

"You have to complete the administrative position credits. It's also to familiarize you with the scientific expedition team's workflow. I have one month left, and you have three. Just hang in there a bit longer."

...

At the Weifu Military Base.

In the office of the Allied Forces' Supreme Commander, Chu Guang made another call via the shelter dedicated line constructed by the Southern Construction Corps to Yin Fang, listening to the latter report the entire process of the matter.

After understanding what had happened, his mood was probably like when playing *Civilization VI* and seeing a primitive tribe share the "Eureka" for "Doomsday Mech" technology—bewildered yet finding it somehow reasonable.

Steadying himself, he immediately asked,

"Where was this thing found?"

Guessing what Chu Guang was concerned about, Yin Fang smiled knowingly and said,

"Don't worry, I've already arranged for your 'players' to investigate near those coordinates."

Chu Guang nodded upon hearing this, a smile spreading across his face.

It seemed Yin Fang had already mastered the art of using players; that guy no longer needed hands-on guidance from him.

But soon, he grew curious about what that "nearly intact" Prowler tank actually looked like.

If he hadn't just arrived at the front lines a few days ago, he would have wanted to immediately board an airship and go back to see that war machine from the Prosperity Era with his own eyes.

Seeing Chu Guang's eager expression, Yin Fang took a sip of coffee and continued with a smile,

"...Honestly, I didn't expect that your 'Cohesion' could get its hands on such an interesting piece of equipment. A Prowler tank equipped with Meissner Effect Armor—this thing is much rarer than power armor. The People's Alliance only built a few, and the ones with production numbers were recycled by the War Construction Committee over a century ago. Probably only the Legion and the Great Rift Valley have them."

Chu Guang asked curiously,

"Doesn't the Institute have one?"

Yin Fang shook his head.

"As far as I know, they never got a complete Prowler tank. But with their technical reserves, replicating the Meissner Effect Armor wouldn't be too difficult. However, as you know, helium-3 resources are extremely scarce. So, as I recall, only some senior researchers' scientific vessels were equipped with similar defensive functions."

As he spoke, Yin Fang's tone carried a hint of implication, almost like a warning.

Chu Guang nodded thoughtfully upon hearing this.

Indeed.

Helium-3 was a big problem.

By the Prosperity Era, Earth still had vast undeveloped mineral deposits, including the "garbage ores" unique to the Wasteland Era and the "seafloor deposits" that were banned from mining during the pre-war era due to being ecological reserves.

But helium-3 came from the solar wind, and Earth, protected by its magnetic field and atmosphere, had negligible reserves. To get it, you'd have to go to the moon, or places like Mercury, or dig up old graves from the Prosperity Era.

It was precisely because of the uniqueness of helium-3 resources that the "administrators" of the wasteland faced a particular dilemma:

Whether to use the advanced technologies of the Prosperity Era.

The Alliance had once used wood-fired generators for a time. Those were obviously inferior to fusion reactors, but they were much more convenient than solar power paired with energy storage. And at that time, Qingquan City had no shortage of wood, making fuel easily accessible. They even mounted the same generators on trucks.

However, there was a fatal problem.

Limited by the magnitude of energy and extraction efficiency, wood-fired generators could at most support the mid-to-late technologies of the Atomic Age. Forget the black tech of the Prosperity Era—they couldn't even get a propeller plane into the sky.

If the Alliance had continued using traditional energy, it might still be fighting for survival resources with Boulder City, and it wouldn't have developed as much as it did later.

But if they used more advanced energy, they would face another risk: the unsustainability of helium-3 resources.

As for how to allocate their limited helium-3 resources, the Corporation, the Institute, and the Legion all took different approaches.

The Alliance was no different.

Every time Chu Guang made a decision, besides weighing the pros and cons in political, economic, military, technological, production, and cultural domains, he also had to consider from a global perspective whether the Alliance's strategic reserves could support it.

Take power armor, for example. As individual equipment, it consumed relatively little helium-3. A single battery could last until the armor was scrapped. So, with the Alliance's nuclear energy reserves, maintaining a force of a few hundred power armors was more than sufficient.

But if they outfitted those hundreds of "Xia Guang" power armors with deflector shields or Meissner Effect Armor, the helium-3 reserves of a thousand cubic meters would immediately become strained.

Investing too many strategic resources in the military could even affect the supply of the West City fusion reactor, which in turn affected the stability of all production and living facilities within the Alliance.

Therefore, he would rather accept the loss of expensive equipment like power armor in battle than pile on energy-costly shields for these non-strategic weapons, at most approving a few experimental units to test the feasibility of the technical route.

After all, in most cases, even if this equipment is completely wrecked beyond repair, the fusion batteries inside can still be recovered—the only loss is some money.

And that is the most realistic reason why deflection shields and nitrogen shields are so difficult to deploy on a large scale.

Chu Guang could hear the reminder in Yin Fang’s words: even with the Academy’s energy reserves, they would rather seal away this technology than mass-deploy it to the military to enhance combat capabilities.

As for the Legion, they were even more straightforward—they simply didn’t bother reverse-engineering the treasures in their hands. They used whatever they had, and when it ran out, they fell back on their own self-developed “genuine antiques” or “hybrid antiques,” like the Wild Boar and the Bison.

The longer time dragged on, the further this world drifted from the era of prosperity, and the more pronounced the advantages became for the Varlants, who had already adapted to the wasteland.

After all, given the current state of outer space, restoring Earth-Moon flights was nearly impossible, and the legacy of the prosperous era was destined to one day be exhausted.

“…What a shame. Such an interesting technology, and yet it can’t be put to use.” Chu Guang let out a soft sigh, but his mind was already turning to another matter.

Though tactical-level equipment couldn’t use it, strategic-level equipment might be worth a try.

From what Yin Fang had said earlier, this thing was practically the nemesis of electromagnetic cannons.

Wasn’t the Southern Alliance on the southern front being suppressed by the “big guns” of the Northern Federation’s battleships?

If he could put a shield on the allied fleet, maybe it could tip the scales a little.

But rather than settling the fight at sea, his players seemed to place more hope in that “submersible aircraft carrier” still under construction.

Chu Guang mused to himself—perhaps he could pass this card to Fang Chang and the others to play, whether or not it would ultimately prove useful.

Mistaking Chu Guang’s silence for disappointment, Yin Fang offered a word of consolation.

“Actually, if you look at it from another angle, its true value might not lie entirely on the battlefield. The technology we can recover from it goes far beyond just the ‘superconducting shield.’ It includes over thirty sub-technologies in fields like energy, materials, and information processing. In particular, several specific superconducting materials and high-performance capacitors—most of which our allies have not opened up to us.”

The Academy had signed a scientific research cooperation agreement with the Alliance, and the Enterprise had also engaged in multiple production collaborations with the Alliance, but the flow of technology between them was far from unimpeded.

Especially these key technologies.

They had paid a heavy price to obtain them, and it would be unreasonable—both emotionally and logically—to open them up to outsiders.

Hearing the comforting tone on the other end of the line, Chu Guang leaned back in his chair and smiled.

“That’s beyond my capabilities. I’ll have to trouble you with it.”

Scientific research was probably the one area where he could hardly get help from the real world.

In fact, early on, he had tried to bring in some genuinely capable young scholars from his original world and observed their in-game behavior.

Among them were Professor Kuang Feng from Southern University, who had entered the game earliest; later, [Endgame Lone Wolf]; and [Giggle], who worked under a certain academician.

Unlike half-baked engineers like Mosquito, they were real researchers—strong in comprehension and rich in frontline work experience.

However, due to the vast gap in foundational theories and the differences in technical terminology, much of what existed in this game was no different from “game settings” or even “magic” to them. Their progress had been slow, and often they approached things with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

Weighing the incalculable risks against the extremely limited rewards, Chu Guang ultimately chose not to interfere with their gameplay, merely maintaining limited observation.

But based on Xiao Qi’s continuous monitoring of multiple samples, they would likely at most reach the stage of completing first-generation controlled nuclear fusion technology—anything beyond that seemed improbable.

As for second-generation controlled nuclear fusion, relative to the foundations of the “real world,” it was like a singularity atop another singularity. Even if they researched it, it would mostly be a waste of effort.

And that was assuming he didn’t cause any trouble.

If he really wanted to mess with them, even just using his game director privileges to “secretly tweak” a parameter or a formula could waste years of their work, or even make them lose all hope in the technical ideas of *Wasteland OL*.

After all, in the eyes of a few “insiders,” *Wasteland OL*, with all its “illogical” elements, was already seen as an olive branch extended by an extraterrestrial civilization.

If a “higher civilization” that had “shown no malice” deemed a certain technical path unviable, then from the perspective of a “junior,” choosing another path to explore would naturally be the more rational choice.

“…You’re too kind. This is my job after all. If I didn’t show some real skill, how could I live up to those coffee machines you gave me?”

Yin Fang replied in a teasing tone, then suddenly remembered something and continued.

“Oh, by the way, there’s another matter. The Southern Alliance wants us to set up a branch of the scientific expedition team on Ring Island and Coral City. Honestly, their terms are pretty good, and you know their literacy rate—it could bring some fresh blood to our expedition team.”

Chu Guang hesitated.

“Have they already taken back Coral City?”

Yin Fang made a helpless expression on the holographic screen.

“Obviously, they’re still working on it. I suspect they want to use your influence… but to be honest, I’m not very good at this kind of thing. You decide.”

After a moment of thought, Chu Guang spoke.

“If you think their cooperation proposal is sincere, I think it’s acceptable. As for Coral City, I’ll have the players active there figure something out.”

He had already taken over Vault 70 from Sun Yuechi, and the various islands of the Southern Alliance were receptive to the Alliance’s governance methods and philosophy. In all likelihood, they would eventually unite with the survivors of River Valley Province, perhaps even more thoroughly than Boulder City had.

After all, they shared the same origins, and the ideal of equality was more deeply ingrained.

In that case, there was nothing to hesitate about.

Besides, his little players had probably had their eyes on that underwater Coral City for a long time. He might not even need to issue a special quest to encourage them.

With Chu Guang’s approval, a pleased smile appeared on Yin Fang’s face.

“Alright, then it’s settled.”

Having said his last piece, Yin Fang hung up and went back to his research.

Chu Guang, leaning back in his chair, had intended to rest for a while, but before Ibis’s “daughter” X-16 could finish brewing the tea, the Academy’s Alpha Task Force called.

“…We plan to launch an offensive against Blood Mountain tomorrow. I’d like to request artillery support from the coalition forces.”

As he spoke, the commander, whose facial expressions were rather sparse, sent over the battle plan as well.

Chu Guang opened it and saw it was dozens of gigabytes in size. A headache set in, and before even looking at the contents, he swiped his finger and forwarded it to Vanus.

“…No problem. I’ll have the units coordinate with your action plan and provide the necessary support for your attack.”

The commander nodded, politely said “Thank you,” and hung up without another word.

Surprisingly straightforward to talk to, Chu Guang found himself slightly revising his stereotypical view of the Academy.

It seemed not everyone in the Swamp of Hesitation liked to beat around the bush.

But awkwardly, this guy’s presence was so low that it was almost absurd.

As the nominal supreme commander of the coalition forces, Chu Guang realized he couldn’t even remember the man’s name.

“…Xiao Qi, what was the name of that commander the Academy sent?”

Xiao Qi, perched on his shoulder, retrieved the data from the database and quickly replied: “Hmm… Alpha Zero? That’s what the records say.”

Alpha Zero?

Chu Guang, who was just taking a cup of black tea from X-16’s tray, was momentarily stunned.

What surprised him wasn’t the strange name itself, but the fact that he had forgotten such a distinctive one.

Taking a sip of tea, he muttered under his breath.

“That’s strange…”