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"A...space elevator?! Are you serious?"

The rickety open-top truck rattled along the rugged mountain road, rusty iron plates and railings clanking with the rise and fall of the axles.

It seed like it might fall apart at any mont.

About twenty people crowded into the truck’s cargo bed, their eyes filled with surprise and disbelief, all fixated on the man with mud-caked boots and a travel bag slung over his shoulder.

They didn’t know where this guy ca from, only that his na was Zhang Ze, a traveling rchant on the Wasteland.

The backpack on his shoulder was all his belongings, containing so peculiar little gadgets and bits of scrap he picked up along the way.

This was quite common.

There were even more rchants than rcenaries on the Wasteland, and not everyone could do big business like Mr. Lister; most scraped by, saving every Silver coin.

"Of course it’s real! Why would I lie to you?"

Very satisfied with those naive gazes, a look of pride spread across Zhang Ze’s face.

Then he reached into his backpack and pulled out a crumpled newspaper, forcefully straightening it out in front of him, cleared his throat, and began to read with enthusiasm.

"...213 years, the Wasteland Era has lasted for a full 213 years, and soon the calendar will turn to a new year. If no new changes are made from this mont, the coming 214 will be no different. Therefore, we have decided to do sothing, to light a torch on this barren ruin that truly dispels the cold night, and not at the expense of the silent majority."

It was the Manager speaking on the broadcast.

Although he couldn’t quite imitate the perfect broadcast intonation, his hoarse voice was almost indistinguishable from the noisy static of a radio.

Starting from the part about the space elevator, he kept reading down, all the way to the Alliance’s plan to establish ten settlents along the coast of the Eastern Provinces on the Central Continent.

Gazing into hopeful eyes, the light of anticipation grew ever stronger.

Food that will never be exhausted, and work even the most illiterate Waste Land Wanderer could do!

Not only that—

there were hospitals and schools!

The Alliance’s Ho of the Refugees even generously promised to provide interest-free loans to disabled survivors for installing non-combat prosthetics produced by Huge Rock Military Industry, with repaynt deferred until the third year!

That Manager was truly a respectable adult!

Not only did he notice the sky above, but also the dust beneath his feet—the people struggling for a living on the Wasteland.

Compared to the Torch Church’s depicted Heaven, undoubtedly, the Alliance he led was the real Heaven!

If it were soone else saying these words, they would have been alert to so sugar-coated trap.

However, that great person was different.

Even though he never boasted of his good deeds, everything he did was witnessed by the survivors on the Wasteland.

Whether living within the Alliance as survivors or those who had rely been there.

For this reason, when his voice appeared on the wilderness’s broadcast, nearly all survivors longing for the Alliance packed their bags and embarked on a journey.

After the dissolution of the War Construction Committee, people finally had a reliable broadcast again!

"...Above is the entirety of the Survivor’s Daily content, and we are about to head to the first of the 10 settlents—’No.1 Settlent’."

Once the traveling rchant finished reading, a rcenary squatting opposite him couldn’t help but ask.

"Don’t these settlents have a nicer na?"

"Unfortunately not," Zhang Ze closed the newspaper and stuffed it back into his backpack, "but really there’s nothing to be regretful about as the newspaper said...the honorable Manager hopes we will na it - it’s going to beco our new ho for a long ti."

At that mont, a Waste Land Wanderer raised an arm with a welded prosthetic and with a smile said,

"Don’t include , I have my own ho, I’m just headed there to earn Silver coins."

His na was Reno, a Scavenger from Garbage City, and he’d heard there’d be endless garbage to pick in the Southern sea area, which is why he ca here to try his luck.

Even if garbage doesn’t fall from the sky, at least the junk in Haiye Province hasn’t been picked over by anyone, let alone what past survivors left behind.

The Alliance’s railway had just passed through Ten Peaks Mountain, and it was quite a distance from River Valley Province to here, he’d at least stayed on the train a full day and night.

To see how attached this guy was to garbage.

Zhang Ze shrugged indifferently.

"Of course, that’s your freedom."

Not everyone desires a stable life, but he had wandered the Wasteland too long, sotis thinking settling down wasn’t bad.

Whether cherishing dreams of a holand or longing for Silver coins, a group of people from various parts of the Wasteland sat in the sa truck.

After a long, bumpy road, a hint of human habitation finally appeared upfront.

If seen elsewhere, most refugees’ first reaction to signs of settlents would be cautious.

But here it was different.

The most renowned survivor organization on the Wasteland was here, at least until the order here beca decayed, no Looter Tribe would foolishly camp here.

A checkpoint appeared up ahead on the road.

The driver drove the vehicle straight ahead, pulling the handbrake once near the checkpoint.

A Weylent Military Officer, flanked by two Soldiers, approached and asked the people on the truck.

"Who are you?"

The driver poked his head out of the window, his weather-beaten face wore an innocuous smile.

"Dear military officers, we are survivors going to Death Coast, may I ask where we are?"

The Weylent Military Officer glanced at him, seeing nothing of note in the car, signaled the checkpoint to open the barrier for passage.

"This is the Ruins of North Sea City, you still have to head another one or two hundred kiloters south to reach Death Coast."

"Thanks a lot." Seeing the checkpoint barrier open, the driver breathed a sigh of relief, expressed thanks, and pulled his head back into the window.

"You’re welco."

As the officer watched the truck start again, he suddenly seed to think of sothing and spoke again.

"...Oh, wait a mont."

The driver was stunned, quickly pulled the handbrake up again.

"Is there anything else?"

Everyone in the truck beca nervous.

Including the prosthetic-ard Reno, whose hand unconsciously moved to his weapon.

Although sensing the tension, the officer didn’t mind, simply looked at the individuals in the truck’s cargo bed and said,

"If you’re going there looking for work, we’ve got work here too."

A rcenary with bullet belts wrapped on his jacket said warily.

"We don’t want Dinars."

The officer’s brow twitched violently, though annoyed, he still said.

"We’ll pay Silver coins."

These ungrateful folks, now they’re getting picky, how infuriating!

Unfortunately, the Alliance’s trains refuse to carry slaves, and the ships and ports of the Southern sea area refuse to provide any convenience for the slave trade. Clone soldiers won’t do the work either; otherwise, he wouldn’t bother with these poor wretches.

Upon hearing that these Weilante people would pay Silver coins, many in the truck had their eyes light up.

"How much would you pay? No, I need to ask what kind of work first!" Reno squinted his small eyes into a line, staring intently at that Weylent Military Officer.

Seeing their interest, the officer cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Allow to introduce myself, I’m Anthony, the Centurion of the 37th ten thousand troops, in charge of this construction site... The work you need to do is simple, just excavating relics: 20 Silver coins a day for using a shovel, 50 Silver coins a day if you can operate a goblin excavator."

Although they hadn’t found the fabled entrance to Shelter No.20 and the Torch’s Complete Life-Born Project information, they did uncover plenty of valuable goods over this period.

After all, the residents of Shelter No.20 and the Torch Church were active in the area for a long ti. Besides unearthing relics from the Era of Prosperity, they also made so creations and improvents on this foundation.

In short, the Alliance’s scientific expedition team has set up a sub-station nearby, and their leader agreed to package so of the less critical debris and relics for sale to the Alliance’s expedition team to earn military funds.

It’s too costly to transport these things back to the Army’s holand, not to ntion that there might not be anyone who wants them there. They already have vast relics in their holand waiting to be developed; there’s no need to think about these here.

What they’re interested in are rely the Torch Church’s research on the "Complete Life-Born" project.

Hearing Anthony’s offer, everyone exchanged glances and couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

"20 Silver coins a day? Are you trying to hire beggars?"

"Exactly!"

"Even for the least skilled and least in-demand jobs in City of Dawn, we get 4 Silver coins an hour!"

"8 Silver coins an hour! And at least two als provided! Also, don’t think of fooling us with nutrition paste! I want to eat from the sa pot as you! Otherwise, don’t even think about it!"

The tense atmosphere on the spot was instantly dispersed entirely.

Seeing that the Army wasn’t robbing but recruiting workers, everyone began to toughen up, shouting one after another, making Anthony, standing beside the truck, so angry that his brow throbbed madly.

These greedy Hyenas!

Anthony cursed in his heart.

If he were in his hotown, he’d have whipped these guys who dared to stick their noses up at him long ago!

"Alright! Just as you said... Ordinary workers get 8 Silver coins an hour, and those who can operate excavators will get double!"

Three-shift excavation, 8 hours a day, and a total of 1920 Silver coins a month.

For 100 people, that’s just 192,000.

The revenue from the relics is far more than that; just yesterday, the batch of "junk dragged from the Shelter No.20 settlent ruins" they tossed to the Alliance expedition team was worth 1 million Silver coins!

Currently, the developnt progress of the entire relic is less than 10%, and who knows how many treasures are still hidden inside.

Hearing Anthony’s words, Reno didn’t hesitate. His right hand grabbed the rail, and he jumped off the vehicle.

"I’m in!"

Not just Reno, four others hesitated but eventually stood up and jumped off the truck.

Getting such a high inco from scavenging is already pretty good, and they get als and lodging here.

Scavengers in the Wasteland are at the very bottom; many end up sick from scavenging — if not infected by fungi, then with radiation sickness, not to ntion various ntal illnesses from losing all their sanity value.

While working under the Weylent people isn’t as guaranteed as the Alliance, it’s more dependable than working for various unknown survivor organizations.

At least, they would get the salary they agreed upon.

"Take care, brothers! Until we et again, haha!" Reno waved to the guys still on the truck with a smile.

Watching his beaming face, those sitting on the truck also hesitated but ultimately didn’t get off.

What if the Alliance offers more?

Moreover, even if the Alliance offers less than the Army, if the price difference isn’t too significant, they’d rather work for the Alliance.

One is safety, and the other is a sense of belonging—two things the Army can’t provide.

"Good luck to you all." Zhang Ze didn’t hesitate at all, only offering a blessing to the scavengers they’d just t and leaned against the truck’s railing, waiting for departure.

From the mont they set out, he’d already made up his mind about his destination, and unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t get off halfway.

Watching the truck pull away, Anthony gestured to his n.

"Assign them work, have the brothers from the relic switch out... Also, ask the passing convoys, pay them 8 Silver coins an hour, and talk separately for those who can use engineering equipnt."

"Yes!" The soldier stood at attention and saluted, then looked towards the five excited but nervous scavengers, "Follow , I’ll take you to the work site."

After watching that group leave, Anthony checked his watch and then looked towards the direction of the checkpoint, furrowing his brows.

He wasn’t waiting here to arrange work for a few scavengers but rather because a big shot from the Alliance had agreed to et him here.

But now it seems this person is late...

But just at this mont, a cloud of dust rose in the distance, and two tall off-road vehicles appeared in his view.

His knitted brow imdiately relaxed, and Anthony hurriedly waved his hand to the side.

"Open the checkpoint!"

The soldier nearby imdiately ran over and raised the barrier.

It wasn’t long before the two off-road vehicles passed through the checkpoint and stopped in front of him. Several soldiers in exoskeletons jumped off the vehicles.

Seeing the shiny exoskeletons, the Weilante people standing alongside the road couldn’t help but show envious expressions.

Though the Army also has its own developed exoskeletons, they’re usually only equipped by the most elite units.

After all, these things put quite a burden on logistical support.

Even for the Alliance’s troops, where all are Awakeners, they turn off the power to save energy during non-combat tis, needing at least one or two maintenance companies per regint to conduct repairs and regular maintenance.

Enterprises don’t even need ntioning; repair camps are almost standard for every mountain division, and spending on maintenance is no less than on ammunition.

"Sorry, we were held up a bit on the road, hope we haven’t kept you waiting..."

The Mosquito, stepping out of the car, smiled as he approached Anthony, warmly extending his right hand.

Anthony smiled faintly in return, shaking the proffered hand.

"Hope you all can be a little more punctual next ti."

"Definitely, definitely!"

The smile on Mosquito’s face grew even broader, especially after he saw the epaulettes on this employer’s shoulder, and there was a hint of surprise in his smile.

"Wow, is that a Centurion? Congratulations to you!"

"Thanks to your help." Anthony curled his lips, although his expression was still restrained, he couldn’t hide the pride in his brow.

A Centurion in the Army is similar to a company commander in the United Human military structure, almost the highest level frontline commander, and it’s not easy to rise from a Centurion.

The reason he could be promoted so quickly, going from a Centurion to a Centurion soon after, was mainly because of the arms sale agreent he helped broker earlier, which not only saved the frontline troops millions of Dinars in maintenance costs but also earned a large military budget.

Seeing Anthony’s face filled with unmistakable pride, Mosquito chuckled and handed him a cigarette, then continued.

"It’s not just because of ; with your talent, promotion was only a matter of ti."

Accepting the cigarette and lighting it, Anthony took a few puffs and looked at the arms dealer in front of him, smiling as he spoke.

"No need for formal pleasantries; your journey here is quite a distance. Just get to the point."

Mosquito smiled and said.

"I won’t waste your ti then, General. I’ll get straight to it; we need another batch of arms here."

Anthony frowned and asked.

"Wasn’t the previous batch enough?"

Mosquito sighed and said.

"Not at all; our clients aren’t just the arms dealers in Tiger State. Recently, clients from Leopard State have also been inquiring. If I had known the demand there was so high, I would have sold our own products."

Anthony was a bit confused.

"What Tiger State, Leopard State..."

Mosquito imdiately said.

"It’s a place na over in Poluo Province."

Anthony nodded in realization, no wonder they said it was a zoo, turns out that’s the reason.

"So... your clients are the Empire?"

Mosquito nodded repeatedly.

"Yeah, who else could it be? Other small settlents can’t even afford a door cannon, only they can handle such a large order."

Upon hearing this, Anthony’s expression grew more puzzled.

"But... I heard you were against the Empire?"

Upon hearing this, Mosquito almost choked himself with his saliva, coughing a few tis before speaking.

"Cough... you’re really insulting us."

Anthony quickly said.

"Sorry, I didn’t an it that way... I’m just a bit puzzled, considering you just had a fight with the Empire. Aren’t you afraid they’ll use the equipnt to retaliate against you?"

Mosquito waved his hand and said.

"It’s not my place to worry about that. As long as our esteed Manager hasn’t said we can’t trade with those people, I’ll sell as much as they want."

Anthony nodded in puzzlent.

"I think I understand... so how much do you need?"

Mosquito imdiately said.

"We’ll take as much as you have!"

Anthony shook his head.

"I can’t give you everything; the most I can offer you is half of the previous batch. The Civil Official Group in Triumph City is also very interested in the batch of arms we have. Their ships have already left from West Sail Port and are said to arrive in two weeks."

Upon hearing there’s only this much, Mosquito’s eyebrows knitted tightly.

The military faction in Leopard State offers as much as the one in Tiger State.

After all, Banana Bay in there can rank in the top three of the "Big Eyes Sightseeing Recomndation List," and those ruthless people have more money than General Jieha of Tiger State.

This client, who ca to discuss business, even straightforwardly stated that whatever Tiger State buys, they will buy double the quantity!

And they’re paying entirely in Silver Coins!

If it weren’t for the contracts being signed and the currency exchange business with the banks being settled, he might have even considered canceling the order with Tiger State.

"How much are they paying you?"

"Uh, I don’t know... but probably not as much as you. I heard they’re giving it to them at cost price." Anthony said with a guilty conscience.

Mosquito got anxious as soon as he heard that.

"Then why aren’t you selling to us? Do you have a grudge against money?"

Anthony replied with a bitter smile.

"That’s partly due to strategic needs... I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to tell you this, but you’re too tough on the Sticky Community. We need to arm our friends to relieve so of the pressure from you, it’s not about money."

Mosquito imdiately responded.

"That’s easy to handle! You plan to use these weapons to arm that Empire, right? The rchants from West Sail Port taking these weapons to sell to the Empire, we buying and selling them to the Empire, what’s the difference?"

Before Anthony could respond, Mosquito quickly continued persuading.

"The only difference is, the rchants under your Civil Official Group are exploiting your strategic need to make a lot of money with low purchasing costs! Yet we would rather let you earn that money!"

"Let be clear, do you really want to let those cunning rchants take away profits that should belong to you?"

Anthony was dumbfounded, initially wanting to retort, but upon thinking, it did seem to make sense?

Goblin Technology holding these arms is selling them to the Empire, the rchants from the Civil Official Group are also selling to the Empire, in terms of the final outco, there’s no real difference.

Then if that’s the case, why not sell to the higher bidder?

What annoyed him the most was the cunning rchants from the Civil Official Group!

The brothers of the Eastern Legion are fighting on the frontline for the Marshal, yet so are thinking of profiting from them!

Yet what he couldn’t understand was how, with just this guy’s clever speech, the enemy seed more honorable than his own?

Anthony hesitated for a mont and said.

"This... I have to discuss it with my superiors, I can’t make this decision."

Mosquito said compliantly.

"Go ahead, your officers will understand my good intentions."

After all, Coleway will eventually inquire about Pangolin’s opinion, and Mosquito has already given a heads up.

This card ga was an open hand for him.

It takes those cargo ships from West Sail Port about 2 to 3 weeks to get here, and it might even drag on until early next year.

Given the similar strategic effects, not only does this side pay promptly, but they can also swallow everything the Weilante people have at once. There’s no reason for them not to choose us.

As he needed to report to his superiors, Anthony invited Mosquito back to the nearby camp for hospitality.

Noticing a few survivors in the camp carrying shovels who didn’t look like Weilante people but rather resembled faces from the Eastern Provinces, Mosquito curiously asked.

"Who are those people?"

Following his gaze, Anthony smiled and said.

"Those people? They are scavengers we hired to excavate ruins. It’s still a bit clumsy for soldiers to do excavation work; after all, this kind of thing needs professionals."

"That’s true..." Mosquito nodded while touching his chin, contemplating other matters.

It seems the Weilante people have spare money to hire others to do this work, indicating they’ve dug up quite a few treasures from the ruins...

Perhaps—

He could do sothing using the connections he had.

As Mosquito was thinking about this, the truck that had brushed past them on the road earlier finally reached the edge of Death Coast before falling apart.

Seeing the patch of azure, the survivors sitting in the compartnt extended their necks eagerly, looking towards the coastline.

"It’s the coastline!"

"No.1 Settlent!!"

"Hahaha! We’re there! We’ve made it!"

"Wooo... A thousand kiloters! Finally, I finished it!"

Along the narrow coastline, there was a military camp.

To the south of that camp were floating docks rising and falling with the Tide, and large cargo ships were docked beside the pier. Under the pull of the hoisting device, containers were being continuously unloaded from the ships.

To the north of the camp was a neat array of container shacks, arranged uniformly like blocks of tofu.

That must be the legendary No.1 Settlent!

They weren’t the first ones here. Many survivors had already arrived here before they did, and so even moved into the new hos the Alliance had prepared for them.

Those container shacks might look crude, but they’re certainly better than the tents they’ve been living in along the way.

Compared to the beautiful future, the difficulties at present were nothing worth ntioning.

Everything was just the beginning.

They won’t always live in those rusty containers. They will build their holand with their own hands!

"Great Antler God be above!"

"Thank the great God of radiation for your blessings! The shining Light guided here!"

"Praise the Alliance! Praise the Manager!"

Everyone excitedly mumbled incoherently, each praying their own prayers.

anwhile, those who couldn’t wait grabbed their luggage and jumped out of the truck, running towards the coastline.

Especially the young traveling rchant who had been reading the newspaper in the cab, nearly ran out of his muddy boots while cheering during his sprint.

The eyes of these survivors all reflected devout and excited Light without exception.

Just like the followers of the Great Antler God, they too believed in their faith, and now what they believed in was right in front of their eyes.

At this mont, they just wanted to get there faster, to reach the ho they’ve envisioned!

The fare was already collected before they boarded, so the driver didn’t stop this reckless bunch of lunatics, and instead, cooperated by slowing down.

At the sa ti, several officers of the Southern Construction Corps standing at the entrance of No.1 Settlent also noticed the approaching refugees.

"Another batch of newcors," Xiao Yue whistled, grinning, "At this rate, our container houses might not be enough soon."

The leader of the Southern Construction Corps, Li Jinrong, nodded.

"That’s manageable, I will contact North Island to bring over another batch."

"... Have them bring so more concrete prefabs too; these iron houses don’t stand a chance against a typhoon—once the wind blows, everything could be gone."

Xiao Yue laughed and then turned his gaze to the bustling settlent in front of him.

More than 30,000 survivors had settled here now.

So of them were rescued from the nests of the Mutants, so were left by the Army, and others ca voluntarily after hearing their broadcasts.

Much like the dozen or so people who just arrived here.

Community workers received those refugees and took them to the newly opened container accommodations, introducing them to the facilities here.

Everything was moving in a positive direction.

Soon, the Haiye Province might return to its forr state, even more bustling than when the Iron Tower Organization was around!

It’s just a pity that...

The beautiful future might never be seen by those who once lived on this land.

A sense of lancholy washed over Xiao Yue’s face, and he suddenly sighed and said.

"I suddenly miss my parents a bit, though I don’t have much of an impression of them, I just felt... If only they were still around, it would be better."

Li Jinrong didn’t know how to console him, so after a mont of silence, he slowly spoke.

"Once this settlent is on track, we should build a Park for them."

Xiao Yue cast a puzzled look at him.

"A Park?"

"Yes, and perhaps a monunt or sothing similar..."

Li Jinrong paused montarily, then continued.

"We need to tell future generations what happened here, what price we paid, and how it ended."

"Those who sacrificed will guard us in another form, as long as we rember them, our future will be bright."

You are reading This Game Is Too Real Chapter 813: How Is This Enemy More Decent Than Our Own Brot on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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