This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 222 This is Too Peaceful

Chapter 222: Chapter 222 This is Too Peaceful

The logs piled up into a bonfire, burning brightly.

Sparks drifted into the sky with the heat waves.

Nomads beat their drums and played bone flutes in front of the fire, while young dancing girls, veiled in light gauzes, offered a dance on the snowy ground for the New Year.

Guards, workers living near Outpost Base, and players who loved to join in on the fun, brought delicacies and strong liquor from the market and joined the celebration.

Even though there was only one free cup of red wine, there was plenty of distilled spirits in the warehouse.

Long ago, players had used knotweed to ferment and sweet potatoes as ingredients to brew distilled spirits.

Compared to red wines that required time to savor, these fiery, blood-boiling spirits were indeed more popular among the Waste Land Wanderers.

However, drinking both red and white together really wasn’t something many could handle.

In no time, the market by the northern gate was a scene of people staggering and sprawling.

Boss Xia wanted to drink more but ended up falling asleep on the table, snoring loudly.

Worried she might catch a cold, Little Fish, who was very caring, went to the bank to get a blanket and tiptoed to cover it over her shoulders.

A brazier was placed under the table.

Little Fish patted her back and said in a tone as if coaxing a child,

"Next time, don’t drink so much, okay?"

However, Boss Xia, already asleep, clearly didn’t take it in; she had no idea what pleasant dreams she was having, her lips slightly curled up, sucking noises escaping from her mouth.

"Hehe... I want more."

Not far away, a taste tester was desperately looking for a restroom.

Further away, there came a woeful howl like a duck’s voice set on fire.

"Water! Burp—give me water!"

Makabazi lay on the ground shouting until a construction site boy stuffed a handful of snow into his mouth, which finally calmed the chap down physically.

Debt Giant Eye, with an expression of agony as if wearing a mask of pain, muttered to himself while clutching his belly.

"Damn it, what on earth did I eat that’s making my stomach roar like this?"

Edge Shoveling looked at his protruding belly and couldn’t help but make a snide remark.

"How much did you even eat?"

"Not much, just a little bit," Debt Giant Eye belched and said in a muffled voice, "Besides, why do I have to eat again in reality when I’ve already eaten in the Game?"

Edge Shoveling: "..."

Construction site boy with brick: "..."

Is this a question that the Intelligence System should be asking??

Drunk, Fang Chang leaned back in his wooden chair, starting his impromptu creation.

Listening to the blacksmith-like percussion and the lingering bone flute played by the nomads, he tapped the beat on the table with his index finger, humming an improvised song.

"Hmm hmm..."

"The gears of Heaven fall into the furnace."

"Boiling steel splashes from the crucible."

"The undying disaster never ceases to stride."

"We will forge anew the realm of mortals."

"..."

That dried-out, raspy voice, like a saw dragging over a violin, carried an unexpected rhythm against the rough background music.

It was like half a bottle of spirit burning down the throat.

Or the pounding hammers of a smithy’s forge.

Fang Chang forgot the lyrics halfway through, and the players egging him on picked it up from there, stringing along line by line, and managed to scrape together a song.

However, as it went on, the style got more and more ludicrous, journeying from the sacred Terra all the way to Ionia, and the slogan "for the revival of United Human’s great cause" turned into "living is for the sake of XX".

Despite not understanding a word of what the residents of the refuge were singing, the Indigenous People around them joined in with their chirps and hums.

The song dispersed the cold.

And it blew away the barriers between people.

Even though they had completely different cultures.

Their yearning for a good life and their pursuit of beautiful things were the same.

Faces warmed by the heat wave and firelight, everyone sitting together was indistinguishable at that moment, not caring about you or me.

Zhao Shu, drunk, patted Yu Hu on the shoulder, his face aglow in the firelight as red as a monkey’s bottom.

"Good brother, what did I tell you? Life here is absolutely fantastic!"

Yu Hu had also drunk quite a bit and let out a tipsy belch.

"You’re right..."

"Next year, I will definitely move here!"

On the snowy ground in front of the bonfire, a dance ended.

The shy girl from the Frost Spear Clan bowed slightly.

But the crowd wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

"Another one!"

"Choose the one in your heart!"

"Oh oh!"

Encouraged and egged on by the crowd, the young girl from the Frost Spear Tribe gathered her courage. Instead of picking her dream lover by the bonfire, she unexpectedly walked up to a deep blue power armor.

"May I have this dance with you?"

There was a hint of trepidation in her eyes, like a kid who had lost at truth or dare.

Chu Guang looked at her with slight surprise, then said in a gentle, jesting tone,

"I can’t dance in this armor, go find someone who can keep up with your steps."

The young girl’s face turned red, and she turned and fled like a startled animal.

Heya, who stood with arms crossed, observing from the side, curiously glanced at Chu Guang.

"Why not dance one?"

Somewhat dissatisfied with her look, as if observing the Animal World, Chu Guang rolled his eyes at her.

"Do you have any idea how much power it would drain to dance in this armor, which weighs over a ton?"

It wasn’t impossible to move without the power on. It would be similar to weighted training, but even though seventy to eighty percent of the weight could be transferred to the support structure of the power armor, moving such heavy armor would still require a lot of strength without the help of motors.

And there was the risk of injuring others.

Chu Guang had reasons to stand there and just be a backdrop.

"But this way, you won’t get to enjoy the festival," said Heya as a reminder.

"You don’t understand, this is my way of enjoying the celebration."

For a Manager, what could be more pleasing than watching the Settlement undulating in song and dance, with the residents safe and content?

That is the highest form of enjoyment.

Heya fell into thought.

Her expression seemed to be recalling past events from Shelter No. 117.

Just then, a teasing remark from Yin Fang suddenly floated in from behind her.

"You’ve hurt the heart of a young girl."

Chu Guang didn’t pay attention to his teasing, but rather looked at him strangely.

"How come you’re back again?"

"I just went back to pick something up."

Yin Fang took out a small robot from behind him, its short, stubby legs wobbling, and its head blocky and square.

"The Academy doesn’t celebrate the New Year; we only celebrate great discoveries, but it seems you have a tradition of celebrating the New Year here... Anyway, I’ve just finished it, so consider it a New Year’s gift for you."

Chu Guang’s face filled with surprise as he took the little robot from Yin Fang’s hands.

Different from the previous one, the square head of this robot now had an additional camera.

Not only could it now laser-map the nearby terrain, but a user wearing a neural connection device could also share its vision through the robot’s camera.

Although it was a minor change, the practicality had more than doubled.

This little robot was now much more impressive than the original!

Watching Chu Guang, who was interestedly fiddling with the robot in his hand, Yin Fang continued.

"Crawler—that’s what I call it, or maybe you have a better name. Aside from an extra eye, there isn’t much different from the original robot."

"Thank you," Chu Guang said, expressing sincere gratitude.

Yin Fang coughed lightly and said,

"There’s no need to thank me; I just processed the materials that I got from you."

Just then, he remembered another important matter, so he added,

"Oh, right, its power source is a metallic hydrogen battery... your shelter seems to have a reserve of only about forty or fifty. You might want to get more if you have the chance; it’s good stuff."

Chu Guang made a helpless expression.

"I know that without you having to tell me."

Metallic hydrogen batteries, containing several Class A technologies, were highly sought after everywhere.

Currently, Giant Stone City could only produce solid hydrogen batteries independently. To acquire metallic hydrogen batteries, one could only hope that the Commercial Teams from the East Coast would bring some.

Chu Guang had previously bought several dozen from the Pioneer to be used in exoskeletons.

However, what his players needed most at the moment were not exoskeletons but rather affordable and functional equipment, as well as the industrial Devices to produce such equipment—this project had been put on hold for that reason.

Looking at the robot in his hand, Chu Guang was suddenly reminded of a very serious matter.

"If this thing explodes..."

Yin Fang answered in a relaxed tone,

"It would be roughly equivalent to 6 kilograms of TNT; the power should cover... um, a football field?"

Chu Guang: "???"

What the fuck?!

Without a second word, he thrust the robot back into Yin Fang’s hands and subtly shifted half a step sideways.

"You hold it for me for now."

Looking at the robot returned to his hands, Yin Fang was stunned for a moment, his face a mixture of laughter and helplessness.

"Don’t get excited... it’s not that easy to explode. And 6 kilograms of TNT is the theoretical equivalent. Without an initiator and oxidizer, it’s impossible to reach that power... this isn’t a bomb."

There’s a gap of at least two B-class technologies between metallic hydrogen batteries and metallic hydrogen bombs; the oxygen in the air alone isn’t enough to fully react with metallic hydrogen.

And you’re wearing power armor, what are you afraid of?!

However, Chu Guang didn’t seem to want to listen to his explanations and only wanted to keep some distance from the man.

Hmm.

Another rule needed to be added in the future.

No robots or exoskeletons powered by metallic hydrogen were allowed to stay in the refuge for an extended period.

...

Abandoned Department Store.

Over a thousand beds were crammed into the vast hall.

New Year’s songs didn’t drift here, no one sang, just the crackling burn of the furnace fire and mothers hushing their children to sleep.

This was a temporary shelter for the refugees; during the cold winter, they could only stay here for the time being.

Thanks to the firewood delivered by the Blue Jackets, the survivors temporarily living here used the wood to patch up broken walls and ground-floor doors and windows, which finally kept out the drafts.

The leftover wood was split into kindling or turned into charcoal and thrown into red brick stoves, along with some fire starters.

That raging flame brought a hard-to-come-by brightness and warmth to the spacious hall amidst the winter days.

Although the environment here was somewhat rudimentary, it at least offered shelter from snowstorms and hunger.

The refugees from the central and northern parts of River Valley Province, the survivors from Winter Willow Camp and the battery factory, were all grateful to those Blue Jackets.

The Chaotic army fleeing from the front lines, the raiders from the Chewing Bone Tribe, and others who brought chaos, had destroyed their homes, burned their crops and houses.

Were it not for the Blue Jackets, they might have frozen to death on the road or ended up in the raiders’ cooking pots.

Of course, they could only speak for themselves.

Not everyone was grateful for their current situation.

Of the first batch of five Survivor Settlements planned for relocation, only two had actually been attacked by raiders, while the residents of the other three settlements had not even seen the shadow of raiders; they had moved here only out of fear.

More than a month had passed since the first blizzard, and although no one had died of cold, some had suffered from frostbite due to working in the cold.

The terrible weather showed no signs of abating, and supplies were increasingly tight, with rumors often circulating that food was running low.

Over time, it was inevitable that people would begin to grumble.

Was the relocation really necessary?

Those settlements that hadn’t moved seemed to be doing quite well.

"I always worry that this building is going to collapse."

Looking at the flakes falling from the ceiling, a man wrapped in a tattered blanket couldn’t help but say.

In fact, he didn’t really think the building would collapse; he just wanted to vent his dissatisfaction with the terrible living conditions.

However, his words had an impact on those around him.

Looking at the dilapidated ceiling, many people showed concerned expressions, exchanging fearful glances and whispering to each other.

"How much longer do we have to stay here..."

"The Blue Jackets say it’s spring."

"Why won’t they let us move into Long Endurance Farm? This isn’t what they promised at the start."

"They say there aren’t enough houses..."

"Hmpf, it’s not like we can’t build our own homes. I think they just want to push the trouble further away."

Most of them were residents of Scavenger’s Home and Hope Mountain Cooperative.

Compared to Winter Willow Camp, Battery Factory, and Highway Town, the locations of these two survivor settlements were a bit further south, one hidden on the edge of the city district and the other nestled in the woods.

Now, some people were starting to believe that perhaps the Looters might not find their homes so easily after all.

After all, they didn’t have eyes in the sky, nor were all the survivor settlements destined to be raided...

Horse Occupy Hill, the village head of Winter Willow Camp, noticing the dissatisfaction spreading, immediately came out to pacify everyone, to avoid affecting his own people.

"Don’t talk like that; it’s been over two hundred years and it hasn’t collapsed. How could it possibly collapse now?"

At this point, a discordant voice suddenly came from the sidelines.

"Hard to say."

"With the snow so heavy this year, what if it blows down the building?"

The speaker was Ding Tian from Scavenger’s Home, one of the more influential scavengers there, and Horse Occupy Hill recognized him.

Watching him frown, Horse Occupy Hill said sternly,

"What are you trying to say?"

The man wrapped in a fur coat sneered.

"What do I want to say? I also want to ask, why are we here? To fight against those Looters from the north?"

"Or to labor for those Blue Jackets?"

Horse Occupy Hill was taken aback.

Before the elder could regain his composure, someone next to him chimed in.

"Maybe Chewing Bone Tribe won’t come at all."

"That’s right, aren’t there still eight survivor settlements that haven’t relocated? I think they are quite comfortable staying in their own homes..."

Although everyone here had food, staying wasn’t without a cost.

They had to work in the factories and then receive a few coins whose use they didn’t understand, hardly enough to buy what they needed.

Even though the Blue Jackets promised these coins would be useful next spring, to them, it seemed no different from pie in the sky.

Since the Blue Jackets were actually planning to pay them, why not use chips?

If nothing else, toilet paper from the East Coast would do—at least someone might want it.

Complaints were spreading.

This wasn’t a one- or two-day affair.

Due to their fear of Chewing Bone Tribe, they accepted the arrangements of the Blue Jackets and moved here.

But a month had passed.

Many had not seen a Looter.

Aside from the intensifying blizzards and the bitter days without end, nothing happened.

Some even maliciously speculated whether from the very start, the so-called Chewing Bone Tribe’s invasion of Qingquan City was a lie.

A sleeping child was woken by the noise, crying out, and the mother, flustered, tried to soothe the child, not daring to say anything to those making noise.

Watching several people grow increasingly agitated, some survivors who had seen it all and still bore the wounds wanted to argue but didn’t dare to make a sound.

Then, someone stepped forward.

"My big brother died."

Perhaps it was the mention of death.

The noise paused.

Facing those pairs of eyes looking over, Ma Li was silent for a moment before he slowly continued.

"The Looters cut open his stomach with a bayonet because he refused to surrender."

Horse Occupy Hill sighed softly and closed his eyes in pain.

That was his child.

And it was the last thing he wanted to remember.

Ma Li paused before continuing.

"I only found out later, I had never even seen his body in the end."

"I haven’t personally seen the Looters from Chewing Bone Tribe, only heard bits and pieces of their brutality."

"But if you say it’s all lies, then tell me, where is my big brother? Where are those who couldn’t make it here?"

"Expecting they won’t come again is not just naive and ridiculous, but it doesn’t even qualify as self-deception."

"Those residents of the refuge could have stayed out of it, just by shutting their gates—forget Chewing Bone Tribe, even if an army drove tanks up to their heads, they could comfortably wait for those people to die of old age before coming out."

Before the refuge decided to open up on its own, no one could open it from the outside.

On the Wasteland, this was universally accepted knowledge.

Seeing his supporters halve in an instant, Ding Tian stubbornly tried to say something, but a mother holding a child also came forward.

"I’ve seen it too."

She sat beside the group from Battery Factory.

Her voice trembled like an angry lioness, her eyes glaring at him steadily.

"We had already retreated to the warehouse, the Looters charging at us one by one to protect us... they died right in front of us."

The hall was silent.

Even the noisiest person, under the gaze of those pairs of eyes, involuntarily fell silent.

People remembered the terror of that day.

They also remembered those heroes.

Ding Tian’s Adam’s apple bobbed, a flash of embarrassed anger crossing his face.

He knew he was in the wrong.

But that didn’t mean he liked being lectured.

Especially by someone who seemed much weaker than him.

Watching two groups in a standoff, Night Owl, with his arms crossed, shook his head, about to step forward to say something when he was stopped by Hooke standing beside him.

"What are you planning to do?" asked the limping old man, staring at him.

Night Owl replied bluntly.

"Someone has to intercede; I’m worried they might get into a physical conflict soon."

This is the Wasteland.

"Talking gets us nowhere. Fists are far more eloquent."

Standing to one side, Ye Nan shook his head gently at his son’s words.

"This is not our concern."

"But..."

"Go notify the guards. Let them handle it."

It was at this moment that the front door of the department store’s ground floor suddenly opened.

The howling north wind swept a few snow leaves inside.

Two guards wearing black coats and carrying rifles on their backs came in, carrying a metal frame that held some charcoal.

Following them were several residents of the refuge.

That exuberant disposition was so recognizable that they could be spotted even without the Blue Jackets.

"Happy New Year!"

"New Year’s gifts! Sorry to have kept you all waiting!"

Cat Ears happily shook her head, only to knock her hat off. With a sesame paste-like sigh, she clumsily bent down to pick it up.

Tail, standing at the doorway, turned her head to glance at Si Si next to her.

"Tail thought it was some sort of mission, but it turned out to be a fetch quest."

What happened to the secret task!

She even brought her gear!

"Emmm... Si Si thinks that getting a bit of fresh air is better than having to log off because of an upset stomach," Si Si said.

Everyone in the lobby was taken aback.

Including the people who were confronting each other, they all froze.

They didn’t understand a thing the Blue Jackets were talking about.

Luckily, at this moment, the guards who had set down the barbecue stand stepped in to save the day, speaking in United Human language.

"Today is the last day of the year 211!"

"The Manager sent me to deliver New Year’s gifts to everyone as a thanks for your cooperation. We’ve made it through the toughest days."

The residents of the shelter whispered to each other.

"New Year... gifts?"

"What are those?"

This time they understood, but their faces were still blank.

The young guard didn’t bother to explain and politely gestured for the "player" wearing a chef’s hat to start.

The charcoal was lit; tomato and egg were brushed with oil on the grill, followed by the placement of palm-sized crab cakes.

"Please line up orderly, one by one."

"There’s enough for everyone."

"Everyone will get a share!"

The guards maintained the order in the scene, guiding everyone into a long queue.

The sound of sizzling fat and the aroma of meat filled the hall. The crab cakes, tender and flavorful, brought an indescribable sense of happiness.

There’s actually meat to eat!

All rumors about food shortages fell apart on their own.

Almost everyone’s eyes sparkled with desire.

Seeing the meat cake in his hand, Ding Tian’s eyes could not help but show a hint of shame, and those who had followed his lead and made a fuss fell silent, heads bowed, eating the cake.

Standing by the door and feeling hungry, Tail couldn’t help but swallow saliva, staring straight at the barbecue rack.

"Does Tail get a share too?"

Si Si tugged at her clothes.

"It’s time to go; everyone at Changjiu Farm is waiting. If you want to eat, I’ll order you some delivery after we log off."

"I want the beef flavor!"

Yikes!

This person—no, this Tail!

Si Si looked at her with a surprised face.

"I’m just saying that to be polite."

Tail: "Chicken flavor is okay too!"

Si Si: "..."

Outside.

On the back of a truck.

A big rat wearing a coat was freezing, rubbing its paws together in the cold wind.

Next to him were the supplies that were about to be taken to the Changjiu Farm.

Worried his appearance might scare the residents of the shelter, he was left to guard the materials on the truck to prevent Variants from coming over for a snack.

Before they left, they reminded him over and over not to eat the mission props.

These people, honestly!

He was not a real rat!

Where had the trust between people gone!

But...

That smell was so fragrant.

Was it dough balls?

Feeling the impulse of innate behavior, Big Eyes decided not to look over there or think in that direction, instead turning to look at the street beside him.

The street was very quiet.

The moonlit snow was peaceful.

There wasn’t even a shadow of a Variant to be seen. If not for the broken buildings and walls, it would be impossible to connect this place with the Wasteland.

Was it really just bad timing to enter this server?

He had heard that in previous versions, there were fights every day; as one fell, another rose, even non-combat players joined the fray, wielding weapons, and the Resurrection Coins were almost used up.

If only he had joined sooner.

Looking at the quiet street, Big Eyes let out a sigh, speaking human words.

"It’s all too peaceful."

-

(The next Chapter around 11 o’clock!)