This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 179: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

Chapter 179: Chapter 179: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

The main course for lunch included white bread the size of a palm, corn kernels roasted crisp and charred, as well as wolf meat stewed soft with soybeans.

Not only Liu Jiuyue, who acted as the messenger, received the hospitality, but also the eight serfs and two guards who accompanied him enjoyed the meal with him.

The guards were not accountable, being servants of equal status to him, but having the serfs dine at the table was unexpected for Liu Jiuyue.

However, since they were not dining in the same place, Liu Jiuyue did not comment further.

With palms pressed together, he thanked the host who provided them with food and eagerly reached out to grab the white bread on the plate.

Different from the cold and hard green barley cakes, this bread was incredibly soft and spongy, made from unknown ingredients and by unknown methods. Merely holding it caused Liu Jiuyue’s concentration to waver, and he hurriedly took a bite.

Delicious!!!

His eyes bulged almost out of their sockets, and before he could swallow the food already in his mouth, he hastily scooped up a spoonful of the bean-stewed meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

Tender, flavorful, melting on the tongue, his taste buds exclaimed their highest praises from the first bite!

Unable to savor it slowly, he devoured the food greedily, resembling a starved ghost reincarnated, completely forgetting the headman’s instructions given to him before departure.

Wolf meat is usually sour, but stewed with soybeans until very tender, it had a surprisingly pleasant taste. As for the corn, it was remarkably well-prepared, perhaps even fried in oil?

Such extravagance!

Having his fill of white bread, Liu Jiuyue felt he could eat no more by the time he started on his fourth piece.

After drinking a sip of hot water, he struggled to swallow the food lodged in his throat and, with a naive expression, looked towards Guo Niu who was eating across the table.

"What is this?"

Guo Niu, a straightforward man, answered truthfully.

"Steamed buns, salt and pepper corn, and braised meat with soybeans."

Liu Jiuyue looked bewildered.

Three completely unfamiliar terms appeared at once. Unable to hide his envious gaze, he couldn’t resist asking.

"Do you eat this every day?"

Guo Niu shook his head and said,

"That depends on what’s at the market."

Outpost Base had no canteen, and cooking was done by the residents of the refuge.

Although the midday market was not as bustling as in the evening, there were still many people setting up large pots and cooking various unusual foods.

The Manager had established lunch standards, with a budget of 3 silver coins per person; Guo Niu used this money to shop at the market.

The resident traders at the northern gate were very enthusiastic, eagerly dragging him to their stalls and even offering discounts for bulk purchases.

Although Guo Niu didn’t understand why bulk buying offered discounts, it was certainly good to save the Manager’s money. In the end, this meal only cost seventy percent of the total budget, which was very economical.

"A market?"

However, after listening to Guo Niu’s explanation, Liu Jiuyue’s expression grew even more baffled.

It did sound very strange.

Typically, small survivor bases wouldn’t have a market.

After all, trade is a product of prosperity. If, in a place, more than half the people are slaves without private property, what could possibly be sold at the market? They might not even own the flesh on their bones, let alone have something worth exploiting.

He’d heard that Bet Street once had a grocery store run by the old town leader, who allowed the local scavengers to exchange for daily necessities. This was considered a charitable act in the nearby area, but that family had been driven off by gun-wielding barbarians, and now he didn’t know if the concept of a "store" still existed there.

Liu Jiuyue hadn’t visited the place but had heard that a group of ragpickers lived there, occasionally scavenging near the farm; they were usually chased away unless they had something to trade. The farm owner, not wanting to conflict with neighbors, would generally let them exchange some green barley for food.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Liu Jiuyue took a moment to suppress a burp before rising and respectfully added,

Guo Niu shook his head and earnestly corrected, "This generosity is all from the Manager; you should thank him, not me."

Liu Jiuyue glanced at him enviously.

How strange.

He actually saw loyalty on the face of a serf!

What was even stranger was that he found himself needing to please him...

After coming out from the dining room, Liu Jiuyue called over the serfs he had brought and had them lead the double-headed cow that was tied up at the door.

He waved the whip in his hand, seemingly wanting to vent his suppressed emotions on these people.

"Hurry up, you lazy dogs, it’s time to hit the road."

The serfs dared not defy him, and certainly not the iron tube rifles carried on his and the guards’ backs. They quickly untied the ropes from the double-headed cow and set off under Liu Jiuye’s urging.

However, people’s simple longing for a better life cannot be blocked by a mere whip. A few serfs, taking advantage of Liu Jiuyue and the two guards being distracted, began whispering amongst themselves.

"The food just now was so delicious."

"Yeah, even in a good year, we’ve never eaten this well..."

"This place is practically heaven!"

"Speaking of which, that person was... Guo Niu?"

"It seems so."

"Unbelievable, it was actually him! I almost didn’t recognize him!"

"What if we were to join him..."

"Shh! Don’t let that man carrying the gun hear you. Don’t blame me for not warning you, but the last kid who bragged about traveling with the Commercial Team was hung at the door and dangled for three days and nights. By the time he was taken down, half his body had been eaten away!"

The serfs fell silent, not daring to speak further.

Watching the tribute caravan disappear into the forest’s edge, standing by the third-floor window of the sanatorium, Chu Guang suddenly spoke enviously.

"If only they’d send me a few more cows."

Xia Yan, who had come here to freeload a meal, joked.

"Is this what you call looking at the pot while eating from the bowl?"

This saying, which she had learned from Chu Guang, was supposed to describe a person’s insatiable greed. Although she didn’t think it was an accurate description of the Manager, it was surprisingly fitting in this moment.

"Of course not," Chu Guang turned around and glanced at her, discontentedly saying, "I taught you that phrase, not for you to use it on me."

Xia Yan gave him a light glare and continued focusing on the popcorn cupped in her hands.

Although Chu Guang always said it was junk food, she didn’t think so at all. Just a light sprinkle of white sugar on top made it taste absolutely heavenly!

Silver coins were truly wonderful!

She was already starting to figure out how to spend tomorrow’s salary.

...

It had just turned noon.

About 4 kilometers from Wetland Park, at the entrance of the Garden Street Metro Station, the pungent smell of gunpowder pervaded the street, and not even the howling north wind could disperse it.

A group of joyful players busied themselves enthusiastically, repeating yesterday’s tasks—pulling mobs, focusing fire, tallying the spoils of battle, bustling and extremely merry.

Except for two who were not amused.

One was Mole, the other was Mosquito.

These two "contractors," big and small, had already invested over 400 silver coins to clear the path from the metro station entrance to the door of Shelter No.117—enough to buy two LD-47 rifles!

If they couldn’t clear this mission today, whether in terms of time or cost, it would be hard to say whether the reward of 1200 silver coins was worth it.

"Maybe we should learn from Brother Fang Chang and his team," Mosquito said with a furrowed brow, glancing at Mole beside him, "I chatted with Old White yesterday. When they were at the Tongwen House Ruins, they didn’t use that many people. Although they spent some ammunition, the cost wasn’t much higher than ours."

Mole shook his head and said,

"Brother Mosquito, you’re mistaken if you think they’re sharing game insights. Little do you know, they’re just showing off. Elite tactics? Have you seen what kind of gear they have? An exoskeleton just like the Manager’s, the strongest mechanical composite bow in the server, a mechanical hand that maximizes the damage of an Intelligence System player, and... the highest Perception in the server."

"With such a hexagonal team, what tactics are there to discuss? One person’s output equals three of ours. Just ensuring they survive is already a huge win. If we tried their method, we’d be grinding this mission until next month. Listen to me, when the equipment is lacking, we must make up for it with numbers. There are no shortcuts!"

I understand all that.

But God, I’m so envious!

With a face full of envy, jealousy, and resentment, Mosquito couldn’t help but blurt out,

"Damn! These cursed Exalted ones!"

Mole nodded in agreement and said,

"Right? Now you see the importance of balance?"

That mechanical hand’s output is insane. The projectiles almost turn into cannons in his hand. Did the designers even consider the feelings of Strength-type players? And that mechanical composite bow, it’s more powerful than a gun, can pierce armor, launch explosives, and the ammunition is cheap—how is that fair?

Of course, if after completing the mission at Shelter No. 117, they reward him with an equipment set that’s even better, then I’ve got nothing to say.

I don’t care, if being Exalted is not my fate, then it must be a conspiracy!

Zhang Hai, who had previously been responsible for drawing the monsters, had just finished tallying his results and arrived just in time to overhear the conversation.

Although he didn’t understand a word, he excitedly joined in with a popular phrase.

"The human wave strategy is forever godly!"

"Mosquito, you naive newbie, what celebration are you joining? Do you even understand your own sequence?" Mosquito, who was enviably fixated, wasn’t in the mood for idle chat, handing him a coin, "Take it! Keep the change!"

Zhang Hai counted it, not a copper coin short, and chuckled.

"Thanks, boss! May you thrive in wealth!"

Hearing this wish of prosperity triggered another fierce twitch in Mosquito’s eyelid.

Thrive in wealth?

At this rate, not to mention thriving, he was about to go bankrupt!

Seeing Mosquito’s pain and empathizing deeply, Mole sighed and gently patted his shoulder.

"Hang in there, victory is just around the corner. I have a feeling that the rewards from this mission might not be worse than those from the Greenhouse Ruins. We’ll definitely make a comeback!"

Mosquito looked up at the sky, letting out a long sigh.

"Let’s hope so."

In fact, Brother Mole’s words weren’t just to comfort him. Victory was indeed in sight.

This round, they had killed sixty-seven Eaters, which was already fewer than yesterday. The newbie Zhang Hai had lasted more than twice as long drawing the monsters than the day before. It was clear that the density of Variants was no longer as high as the previous days.

Mole estimated that, optimistically, two more rounds should suffice to complete this mission.

Coincidentally, it was time for lunch. The smaller players taking part in the strategy session took a short break, walking into an abandoned store by the road where they fired up some charcoal and gathered branches to boil a pot of water.

The newbies, saving up for equipment, mostly didn’t spare expenses on costly supplies and primarily brought dry food like green wheat cakes or roasted bread made from horned potatoes.

This kind of dry food might not be nutritious or tasty, but its convenience was unbeatable. Whether tossed into a pot to cook into a mush or simply gnawed on directly, it filled the stomach.

Hunger could lead to a low blood sugar debuff, affecting output. The players planned to start the next wave of the offensive after eating their dry food.

However, at this very moment, unbeknownst to either Mole or Brother Mosquito, just across the street from the Garden Street Metro Station on the highway, a fully armed group of mercenaries was quietly entering the area.

Their numbers were small, just eight people, and though their equipment wasn’t the most elite, it was significantly superior to the ragtag fighters scattered across the wasteland. Not only were they equipped with automatic weapons, but two of them also carried thick rocket launchers on their backs, boasting considerable firepower.

It was clear their boss had spared no expense, learning from the previous failure, not only by hiring a tougher Mercenary Group but also by purchasing round-trip tickets to and from the "North Suburb."

Their task was simple.

Arrive at Garden Street Metro Station, clear the Variants beneath the station, then enter Shelter No.117 and bring back the items inside to the evacuation point for extraction.

Actually, under optimistic circumstances, they should have completed this mission two days ago. However, unexpectedly, another group had also set their sights on Shelter No.117.

Those people seemed to be from a newly emerging Survivor Forces in the northern suburbs of Qingquan City. According to the blabbermouth host of Giant Stone City Radio, these people had not only killed off the Blood Hand Clan but also eliminated the Mutants of Street No.76 and recently even colluded with enterprises passing through the northern suburbs.

Although the equipment of those people was weak and their own side had a clear advantage, no one dared to take it lightly.

Especially since yesterday, when a scout establishing a sniping point in a tall building reported a sighting of a suspected Awakener.

Awakener!

As the captain of this twelve-person team, Pruitt felt that things were probably not as simple as imagined.

Without making an immediate move, they occupied a partially collapsed street-facing building, set up a radio, and established a temporary command post from where they established contact with the scouts who had arrived at the front lines earlier.

"Karl, is the Awakener from yesterday still around?"

After a brief wait, the scout’s voice came through the communication channel.

"Gone... I suspect he hasn’t fully awakened yet, but signs of awakening have already appeared."

Pruitt spoke gravely.

"What are his abilities?"

Karl replied.

"Likely related to the Intuition or the Mental systems."

Intuition or Mental systems.

Pruitt’s brow furrowed tightly.

So-called awakening was a partial "variant transformation" of characteristics on the body, exhibiting traits abnormal to regular humans.

There were many possible triggers for an awakening; commonly seen ones included the use of genetically enhancing drugs or the activation of survival instincts at the brink of death, causing previously inactive gene segments to be expressed dominantly.

Compared to the "risk-controllable" mechanical prosthesis modification, awakening was undoubtedly a thorny path. Although it could bring immense strength, it wasn’t without a cost.

However, it was undeniable that Awakeners were difficult to deal with, especially those of the Mental and Intuitive types. Many of their abilities were ridiculously strong, making them nearly impossible to defend against.

Just like the branch of energy weapons among light arms!

"The group is getting ready for a second wave of attacks; I feel the Variants beneath the metro station have almost been cleared by them... Boss, when do we make our move?"

Pruitt replied calmly.

"No rush, let them lure the Variants out from below."

Drawing the Variants out from beneath the metro station to concentrate fire might be a stroke of genius, but these people clearly hadn’t realized how much noise they were making and how exposed their vulnerabilities were from behind.

Pruitt’s thought process was clear.

There was no need for them to clash head-on with those survivors. They just had to quietly wait for the Variants to swarm out, and when the survivors charged forward wielding melee weapons, they would strike opportunistically.

What if there was an Awakener among them?

Devouring these disarrayed survivors and Variants in one go would be as easy as gobbling up a cream-filled cookie.

Thinking this, a faint smile appeared on Pruitt’s face.

He was going to teach these survivors a lesson.

Show them what it meant to be the mantis stalking the cicada, with the oriole behind!

-

(Starting this Sunday, I will return to two updates a week, feeling a bit more replenished. _(:3」∠)_)

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