Chapter 805 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 805: The Schemes Unveiled While a legion ambassador from Triumph City was having a clandestine meeting with Duke Garava, the empire's envoy stationed in Dawn City, another secret conversation was unfolding elsewhere. In a spacious and vacant conference room, Yang Kai, adorned in a white lab coat, stood respectfully beside a chair, seemingly awaiting something. Just as the clock's minute hand struck precisely on the hour, a silhouette suddenly materialized in the chair across from the conference table. The person appeared exceedingly ordinary, with no distinguishable features, and bearing an expressionless face, one could easily lose them in a crowd. Yet, despite this plainness, Yang Kai's reverence as a B-rank researcher implied this individual's exceptional status within the Academy. "Sit." Upon hearing the voice from across the table, Yang Kai sat without hesitation. As he settled, the authoritative voice continued, "Report your findings." "Yes, esteemed Chief Technology Officer," Yang Kai responded respectfully, proceeding to detail the recent series of events south of the Wandering Marsh, with particular emphasis on the Alliance. "...Based on our intel, the Alliance is planning to construct a space elevator. I suspect they have recovered the blueprints from Shelter No. 20, including the concept of a trackless elevator, as traces of this can be found in the data recorded by our surveillance equipment." After a brief pause, Yang Kai added, "Moreover, as we predicted, their focus has shifted to the 'Sky People'." Silence enveloped the conference room as the Chief Technology Officer pondered the implications. Yang Kai waited patiently for his superior's considerations. After a reflective pause, the voice resumed, "Very well." The lack of inflection made it impossible for Yang Kai to discern whether this response was favorable or not. After a momentary hesitation, he tentatively suggested, "If trends continue, the Alliance might attempt to clear orbital debris or even establish a space station in orbit. While this isn't inherently negative, there's a risk of things spiraling out of control." "You know, the Sky People are particularly wary of anyone reaching into outer space. An adamant push from the Alliance on their space venture might precipitate an early arrival of the Sky People's plans." Notably, the Academy's research vessels, equipped with anti-gravity technology, have always been capable of traversing between the surface and outer space. However, few dared venture into near-Earth orbit, and even fewer lingered long. Orbital debris and automated weapons are deterrents, but the Academy's primary concern was not crossing the Sky People's boundaries. The Ministry of Technology has long discerned, through probing attempts, that the space stations at Lagrange points intend to block Earth. For reasons unknown, the descendants of the expeditionary forces wish to prevent remnants of the Wasteland Era from venturing into outer space. This intent is somewhat understandable. Although rebuilding the wasteland requires Prosperous Era technology and resources, these very resources could exacerbate terrestrial chaos, prolonging the Wasteland Era. It's akin to giving a superweapon to a primitive tribe, not leading them to enlightenment, but allowing them to revel in their old ways indefinitely. Consequently, the Academy consciously restricts technology from leaking, granting only minimal technical benefits even to its subordinates like the Golden Lizard Kingdom. Curiously, the Sky People haven't established criteria to end the Wasteland Era. Consequently, their indiscriminate blockade of Earth persists. Thus, the Academy's Ark Project remains a secretive endeavor on the ground, unable to openly venture into outer space. Shelter No. 20 likely abandoned its "trackless elevator proposal" for similar reasons, instead opting for the unstable "mind projection" option. Ironically, in seeking to create a sterile "no-risk" environment for civilization's transition from Wasteland to New Era, the Sky People have inadvertently spawned multiple "hells". Furthermore, under the guise of preserving civilization's "seeds", they assimilate "extreme consciousness" entities that have birthed these hells. As anticipated by Dr. Conclusion, with the growing accumulation of extreme consciousness entities, the Sky People might intervene directly in Wasteland affairs upon reaching a certain threshold. This threshold could relate to their remaining time or observed phenomena on the wasteland. Consequently, Academy researchers are cautiously dismantling potential crisis triggers in the wasteland. The Torch Church is one such entity. Contrary to the Federation managers' accusations, the Academy is well aware of the increasingly direct interference by the Sky People in wasteland matters. They've been watching all along, with great concern. After Yang Kai's comprehensive briefing, the Chief Technology Officer sighed, “...Worrying is pointless. What must happen will happen. Compared to the risks of the Alliance's actions, I’m rather curious if they might bring a much-needed change to this stagnant situation.” Yang Kai seemed to awaken with this realization. “...Do you wish for them to be disruptors?” The Chief Technology Officer responded slowly, “It's the least costly and risky approach... Haven’t you noticed how the corporate council always operates?” Yang Kai chuckled bitterly. “Even so... I worry they'll drag us into their water; they aren’t the most honest bunch.” In a calm voice, the Chief Technology Officer answered, “We can’t expect events to unfold exactly as we wish. If the price is slight, being drawn in isn't unacceptable.” “Understood...” Yang Kai nodded seriously, then respectfully inquired, “Do you have any new instructions?” After a moment of contemplation, the Chief Technology Officer replied, “Not for now, observe and adapt as it comes... By the way, consider transferring gravity well technology to them; it might aid their space elevator plan.” Yang Kai breathed a sigh of relief, reassured by the absence of imminent challenges. He nodded slightly and said respectfully, “As you command...” As his words concluded, the surrounding azure holographic images disintegrated into pixel dust, dispersing like windblown sand... In the vast heart of the great desert, swirling yellow sand danced as if clouds rolled across the ground. This was the central region of the entire Central Continent. Heading west along the equator lies Legion territory, whereas eastward beyond the ocean stretches Borgh Province. At this moment, a man clad in a blue coat stood atop a dune, peering into the distant eastern horizon. He smirked, muttering to himself, “...This lot is truly pitiful.” His name was Gui Xu, Chairman of the Enlightenment Society, and self-styled Director of Shelter 0—though both titles were self-appointed. Since the outbreak of the “Battle of Paradise”, he’s been closely observing the situation in Haiya Province. Predictably, the eastern heretics were thoroughly trounced by the ancient survivor factions united against them. The group was squashed like a cockroach, beaten mercilessly into the ground. For the inevitable downfall of the Torch Church, his sentiments were mostly mockery. Their stupidity met its deserved fate; they antagonized nearly everyone, and survival would be pure luck. Conversely, the true inheritors of the “Torch Project”, the Enlightenment Society, operated in stark contrast. Their secretive conduct made them elusive, concealing from the old survivor forces that loathed them, who could only chase their shadows in vain. Moreover, the constant winds and sands of the Great Desert provided the perfect cover. The iron-tinged sands not only obscured all prying eyes but also blocked the incessant electromagnetic waves, dividing the Great Desert into two worlds oblivious to each other's existence. As long as they remained within, none could apprehend them. Casting a cold glance eastward, Gui Xu prepared to depart. But then, a noise from above stopped him in his tracks. Sensing a swiftly approaching object, he glanced upward to see a shadow streak across the sky and crash into a distant dune. "What on earth...?" he muttered—another defunct satellite, perhaps? But why here? Gui Xu's expression wavered between suspicion and curiosity, his gaze flittering between the sky and the ground, weighing his options. Although debris occasionally fell into the desert, it was rare for it to land so close to the entrance of the Enlightenment Society's headquarters. This didn't feel like a mere coincidence; it seemed more like someone had delivered it to their doorstep. He placed a finger to his ear, speaking cautiously into the communication channel, "Night Dove, something’s fallen nearby. Go check it out." A reply came swiftly. “Understood.” As he spoke, figures emerged from the dust storm, heading toward the impact site. They were well-equipped, holding standard-issue assault rifles of the Federation army with desert-camouflaged exoskeleton suits. Leading the group was Night Dove. Unlike the others, Night Dove wasn’t a shelter resident in the traditional sense but rather a bioroid designed by them. His reliability earned Gui Xu’s trust, making him an indispensable ally. Gui Xu watched as Night Dove and his team approached the site, waiting patiently. Before long, Night Dove’s voice returned to the communication channel. “It’s a defunct satellite, sir.” Just as I suspected, thought Gui Xu, immediately losing interest. "Retrieve it and deliver it to the tech department for analysis." Satellites from the United Federation's time were innumerable; finding anything worthwhile among them was akin to searching for a needle in a haystack. Gui Xu didn’t hold high hopes for this one. Night Dove acknowledged with a simple "Yes," and advanced to collect the satellite from the ground. Yet, as his hands made contact with it, a sudden change occurred. His eyes widened, and his body froze in place, convulsing as if electrified. His pupils flickered with streams of pale blue data. The soldiers around were stunned, unable to discern what was happening to their leader, and stood frozen in indecision. “What’s happening?” someone shouted. "It’s the satellite!" another called out. "Get it away from him!" The deputy commander acted decisively, moving to grab the satellite from Night Dove's grasp. But as soon as they made the attempt, a flash of light streaked from the satellite, slicing clean through their wrist. Blood gushed from the severed stump, and the delayed agony finally surged through, prompting a scream as the deputy crumpled to the sand, quickly staining it crimson. The unexpected twist left the soldiers dumbstruck, instinctively raising their rifles towards the malfunctioning Night Dove. But Night Dove's eyes suddenly gleamed crimson, as if possessed, glaring menacingly at the soldiers surrounding him. As panic gripped them, they found their limbs incapacitated, as though shackled to their exoskeletons, unable to move. Watching his would-be executioners with mocking eyes, Night Dove smirked. He was poised to teach these insolent souls a lesson when a drone sprang from a soldier's backpack. The drone's emitting blue holographic light projected Gui Xu's image onto the sand. "Stand down!" Night Dove lowered his arm, scanning the hologram with interest. "How do you do?" The projection of Gui Xu glared icily, asking bluntly, "What are you?" Uncertain of what had transpired, Gui Xu nonetheless sensed something foul inhabiting his confidant's body. The satellite that mysteriously fell from the sky was undoubtedly the cause. The unfamiliar presence within Night Dove offered a frank response, "I am what you call a heretic." Gui Xu's eyes narrowed to slits, his voice laced with menace. He already knew. This was no need for speculation. This was a Torch Project forerunner. “Why are you here?” Gui Xu asked. “To save you,” came the reply. Save us? Gui Xu was momentarily stunned before bursting into laughter, as if he’d heard a great jest. “To save us, you say? Spare us. You’d do better saving yourselves.” The forerunner controlling Night Dove waited for his laughter to subside, speaking slowly, “Look at your pitiful state, hiding in the desert, hoping to realize your Torch Plan… The truth is, the survivor factions outside couldn’t care less about you." The derision in his voice touched a nerve, and Gui Xu suppressed his irritation, lowering his voice dangerously. “We’re discreet in our operations… not reckless like you.” “I never compared us,” the forerunner retorted with calm clarity. “You inherited the Blue Coats’ flaws—weakness, arrogance, hubris. We may have been defeated, but at least we burned brightly. You’ve merely dwelt like rats in the ditch. Surviving isn’t something to boast about; you’re simply not in the grave—yet.” Gui Xu replied icily, “Words won’t change the fact that you’re a loser.” “Quite right,” the forerunner acknowledged placidly. “Though Heaven in Haiya Province has fallen, aren’t you even slightly intrigued by what we’ve left behind? Survivors and ancient factions bicker over it.” Gui Xu’s interest piqued again, and he scrutinized the bioroid intently. “What are you offering?” he asked. Seeing the curiosity in Gui Xu's eyes, the forerunner smiled and spoke, "You've been researching the Gestalt Lifeform project, just as we have. Yet your scholars haven’t delved as deeply as ours." Gui Xu remained cautious, “And?” “That’s why I intend to share our knowledge with you.” Gui Xu froze, taken aback by the proposal, his mind torn between caution and greed. Ultimately, desire won out. Admitting to his interest, a trace of skepticism lingered. “Why offer this to us?” “Isn’t it obvious?” the forerunner explained. “I wish to exploit your ambition. And frankly, you are the most suitable inheritors of our legacy.” The modified gray-black skin individuals were Enlightenment Society’s work. The technology applicable to green-skinned mutants was likewise usable on those of gray-black complexion. Gui Xu couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration. When the heretic revealed his intentions, Gui Xu burst into laughter again. “Hahaha! Fascinating... So, you hope to exploit our ambitions to gain what exactly?” Gui Xu inquired slyly. The forerunner replied smoothly, “Not much for now. Just lend me this body.” With such a minor request, Gui Xu shrugged off concerns about his former comrade. Amid the astonished looks from the soldiers, he readily agreed. “No problem. It’s yours.” Employing a former Torch Church forerunner as an ally was a bargain—especially when it included the Gestalt Lifeform project research! With Torch Church's technology, Gui Xu was confident he could forge a mutant army several times larger than theirs—a force of chaos and destruction that would engrave fear into the hearts of all survivors. With his assent secured, the forerunner controlling the bioroid broke into a smile. “Thank you.” Gui Xu smiled back, his voice tinged with newfound respect. “What should we call you? Forerunner? Or perhaps... would you like a title here among us?” “No need. I have a name.” Holding the satellite, the bioroid pondered briefly before speaking. “Call me… ‘Apocalypse’.” “Apocalypse... Haha, a fine name indeed!” Gui Xu exclaimed joyfully, while the soldiers standing by exchanged bewildered looks. One soldier, swallowing his apprehension, whispered over the communication channel, “Chairman... what about our deputy commander?” The reminder made Gui Xu glance at the deputy, who lay on the ground, missing his hands and barely conscious from blood loss. Without dwelling too long on what he considered a minor detail, he dismissively ordered, “Bury him somewhere.” His words shocked the soldiers; they couldn't believe their esteemed leader could speak so callously. Yet, the command was given. Fearing the consequences of defiance, they had no choice but to lower their heads, responding in unison, “Yes…” As the soldiers dragged the deputy's body away, Gui Xu turned back to Apocalypse, who still cradled the satellite, offering a cordial smile. “That body was their commander. They'll be your subordinates now… Follow me, and I'll show you where we reside.” Though Apocalypse did not fully trust Gui Xu, he refrained from further comment, merely casting Gui Xu a meaningful look and following him through the swirling sands, under the escort of the hologram-projecting drone. A new conflict quietly took root, but for now, the petty troubles hadn’t dampened the wasteland survivors' celebration of their victory in the Battle of Paradise. Chu Guang continued his diplomatic tour of the southern archipelago. Meanwhile, Camp 101 officially launched the Space Elevator Project. Experts flew to the southern seas, accompanied by engineers from Shelter No. 70, to survey regions near Coral City. Before designing the elevator’s base, they needed a site. This ensured that when the alliance representatives presented their proposals to the Sentient Coalition, it wouldn’t seem like a pipe dream. While Chu Guang tirelessly worked for the Alliance survivors, his players remained anything but idle. Post-expansion, the server typically entered a period of peaceful development, catering to non-combat roles. After their combat-focused peers had their fill, the time for lifestyle players to shine had come. Besides, growth and construction were the core themes of the casual, nurturing game "Wasteland OL." Most core settlements of the Alliance reached development bottlenecks. Some players turned to Borgh Province, while others eyed the recently captured Haiya Province. Of course, "Wasteland OL" never lacks players with creative mindsets. Amid the majority following the game’s evolution, a minority sought to lead it in new directions, creating their own adventures. One such player, Mosquito Brother, who'd recently walked the red carpet with the manager, directed his schemes towards Legion's 370,000-strong team, toiling at the front lines. In the ruins of Haibei City, Mosquito offered a cigarette to the grimy, coal miner-like Wilandrian decanus, saying courteously, “Digging with shovels is too slow. How about buying a couple of excavators?” The red-faced Wilandrian managed to mutter, “We have no money.” “No money? No problem! Our excavators come free!” Mosquito chuckled, draping his arm over the utterly baffled, big-nosed decanus. “Trade your equipment for them. One tank for an excavator. How’s that sound?” To be continued...