This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 555 Another New Year

Chapter 555: Chapter 555 Another New Year

The bustling streets were packed with people watching fireworks, and long queues had formed in front of the wooden stalls.

Most of these stalls were set up by residents of the refuge, and many locals had followed suit, hoping to earn some "new money" during the festival.

"So our task today is just to eat and drink to our hearts’ content at the celebration?" Pai asked, eyebrows raised as she fiddled with the stamp in her hand.

Yesterday, when Chu Guang had sought her out with such seriousness, she had thought it was some especially troublesome task, but it turned out to be surprisingly simple.

On the streets, they were to indulge in free food and drinks at the refuge residents’ stalls, then simply press on the electronic grading tablet provided by the stall owners to conclude their work.

What a strange task.

"Don’t underestimate this important task," said Little Fish, sensing Pai’s skepticism, and spoke with earnest, "Brother Chu said, this is a very significant ’wanjia activity.’ Many residents of the refuge have been looking forward to it all year. If they receive a full score of good reviews, it will make them happy for the entire year."

"Additionally, Brother Chu mentioned there might be some strange foods mixed in at the celebration. If we spot any, we must immediately press the alert button on the VM."

Due to her OCD, she blurted everything out in one breath and ended up coughing twice due to shortness of breath.

"Wow!? Is it that scary?"

Seeing Pai frightened, Little Fish nodded seriously.

"Yes! So, we really can’t take it lightly, especially if we encounter someone named Mosquito."

Seeing Little Fish’s serious demeanor, Pai looked around nervously.

Walking beside them, Alyssa tilted her head.

"If a full score makes them happy... why not just give high scores to everyone?"

She thought the residents of the refuge were all good people, and the idea of giving them poor reviews made her heartache.

At that moment, she was dressed in a white cotton trench coat, a floppy white beret with a yellow trim, and a red and black checkered scarf around her neck.

Perhaps due to having been through a lot, her demeanor seemed much more mature. Although roughly the same age, she clearly appeared more like an older sister when standing beside them.

Little Fish shook her head.

"That wouldn’t be fair to those who are sincerely carrying out their tasks."

"Don’t underestimate it. I didn’t expect such a simple task to have so much depth!" Fired up, Pai spoke with sparkling eyes, "I’ve decided! It’ll be Pai who plays the villain!"

First, let’s score a few zeros to spice things up!

Little Fish frowned.

"That won’t do, we need a fair judgment!"

Otherwise, no one would choose her next year.

Curious, Alyssa looked at Little Fish and asked.

"You’ve been talking about a task... but isn’t this a festival activity?"

Little Fish: "Actually, it’s almost the same thing. Brother Chu said, since everyone is a Task Master, it’s common sense to treat activities as tasks."

Pai curiously leaned in.

"What’s a Task Master?"

Little Fish shook her head.

"I don’t know... maybe it means someone who’s happy to complete tasks."

Such diligent people...

Listening to their conversation, Alyssa couldn’t help but have more respect for those residents in blue jackets.

Always at the forefront of everything.

No wonder the Alliance residents trust them so much.

"We can’t let their efforts go to waste."

"Yes!" Little Fish nodded happily, "Let’s do our best!"

"Let’s start with the sweets!" The previously cautious Pai, upon reaching the edge of the snack street, excitedly looked around.

Watching the two bounce eagerly into the crowd and the streets filled with the smell of fireworks, a smile spread across Alyssa’s face.

This was a scene never before seen in Giant Stone City.

Before, not to mention smiles, she could barely see their eyes.

People walked hurriedly with their heads down, like puppets pulled by strings, moving from one place to another without knowing where they were headed.

Now, everything was beginning anew, and people could consider these questions for themselves, ponder the roads to the future, what kind of people they wanted to be, and where or which stars they aimed to reach.

Thinking about her conversation with the Manager yesterday, a moment of enlightenment suddenly dawned on Alyssa. She understood why the Manager had told her "that is not the answer."

It was only natural for members of the Workers’ Association to feel lost about the future after a victory—that was part of the spoils for winners.

Only the mountains, rivers, and the creatures moving through them wouldn’t feel that confusion.

"...It’s really great to be able to talk with him."

It would be even better to stroll with the Manager...

She could share this discovery with him.

As Alyssa thought about this, the snowy brim of her hat began to emit steam. She blushed, shook her head, and dispelled that extravagant idea.

The respected Manager must be busy working behind the scenes, and bothering him at this time would surely trouble him.

’...Father said, Alyssa, you’re an adult now; you can’t always think about depending on others.’

Alyssa clenched her fists, mulling over this silently in her heart.

She’ll bring some tasty food to him later!

With this thought in mind, she quickened her pace to catch up with Little Fish and Pai.

The two stood in front of a strange machine, mesmerized by cotton candy wrapped around a wooden stick, their eyes sparkling.

"Oh, oh, oh! What’s that cotton candy?"

"How do you eat—ah! You’re that Mosquito!" Little Fish recognized the person standing beside the machine and exclaimed in surprise.

Pai, standing next to him, immediately became alert and moved away from the machine.

Mosquito’s antics amused Taskmaster and Kill God, who laughed shamelessly, while the one who didn’t want to be remembered covered his face.

"Hahaha, have you become that infamous now?" Chasing Soul elbowed Mosquito and chuckled mischievously.

"Tch! What do you mean infamous? I call this—" Mosquito glanced at his disciple while turning to the customer, and his eyes widened when he saw Pai, "Holy shit?! Are you that saint—cough! That oil?!"

"What?" Pai crossed his arms and frowned. "You’re being really rude... huh, have I seen you somewhere before?"

A pleasing smile spread across Mosquito’s face.

"That was a misunderstanding... Oh yes, I’ve never had the chance to thank you personally. That aviation fuel was a savior! Thanks a ton!"

Whether it was inside or outside the Game.

Flushed with the compliment, Pai momentarily forgot the slight displeasure and proudly said.

"You’re welcome, no big deal."

"Hehe," Mosquito rubbed his hands together awkwardly and asked, "Got any more good stuff like that, finished products or recipes?"

"Similar?" Pai glanced at him strangely: "What are you talking about? That’s just some odd stuff to make do, aren’t you planning on continuing with chemical-powered aircraft?"

Mosquito replied anxiously.

"Can’t I? It works, right?"

Pai shook his head.

"Give it up, those things were almost phased out during the Prosperity Epoch, no one spends time researching that anymore. Asking me this is like asking for some secret formula for Black Powder, the most I can tell you is to add a bit of sugar."

Taskmaster and Discourage looked at each other, the latter shrugged helplessly, and the former scratched his head.

Mosquito heaved a sigh.

"That makes sense..."

Though it made sense.

After all, the Prosperity Epoch, as per the setting, was an era of FTL engines and Anti-gravity devices; chemical rockets might have been obsolete for ages.

Regarding Wasteland OL, he probably knew a bit of the inside story. The background of the game’s development team was not simple, and although most technology is fictional, some "low-level" technologies are theoretically feasible in reality.

In other words, they could directly be put to use.

Both officials and the public had profited immensely, creating a sort of unofficial agreement, but these were digressions.

Even without these complex entanglements of interest, he was thoroughly enjoying this light-hearted and delightful MMORPG.

"Ah... I almost forgot the main matter," Mosquito snatched three cotton candies from Taskmaster’s hand and obligingly stuffed them into the hands of the three customers, chuckling as he handed out the VM: "Kindly leave a nice review, thank you!"

Feng Qing, standing by, kindly mentioned.

"Asking for a good review might cost you points.

Mosquito was instantly shocked.

"Damn! I was just saying it off the cuff. Is it that serious?"

The same had happened last time!

He merely blurted out something in excitement and was thrown in by some dreadful tail.

Gui Gui subtly shifted his gaze away.

"It’s because some judges find it hard to say no."

Whether she had successfully recreated that taste, she wasn’t very confident either, as it was a dessert she had only eaten when she was very young.

However, her concerns were obviously unnecessary.

Before even two seconds had passed, a scream erupted in front of the stall.

"Woo!!! This tastes so good! Do I need to spit out the cotton——eh? It’s not cotton? It dissolves in the mouth!"

Pai widened her eyes in surprise.

Beside her, Little Fish had already buried her face in the cotton candy, her eyes completely turning the color of the cotton candy.

"How... is this made?!" Alyssa tasted the white cotton delicately, her eyes filled with disbelief.

She excitedly looked towards the people behind the stall, but soon she seemed to remember something and added in a low voice, a bit embarrassed,

"Would it be inappropriate to ask about the recipe... If it’s inconvenient to answer, pretend I didn’t ask."

Feng Qing said with a smile.

"Actually, it’s not inconvenient at all. The principle is very simple; just get a heater and a motor... Even if you hadn’t asked, we were planning to teach it to the survivors here later on."

It wasn’t a very difficult technology, and it was easy to learn.

Alyssa looked at her excitedly.

"Thank you!"

Now, even if they didn’t have to wait for a celebration, they could enjoy such delicious and magical desserts in Giant Stone City!

Feeling a bit embarrassed to be thanked, Feng Qing shyly smiled and said,

"You’re welcome, I’m quite happy to be able to help everyone."

Her face flushed as she averted her gaze towards Gui Gui.

"Right, we should also take some to Citrus and the others."

"Sure thing!"

Gui Gui chuckled, grabbed a small cart, loaded an unused cotton candy machine onto it, and shouted towards Mosquito,

"Boss Mosquito, let us borrow this for a bit!"

Since the principle was very simple and the process wasn’t very complicated, they didn’t just make one cotton candy machine—they also made some to sell to the locals.

Mosquito laughed heartily and waved his hand, generously saying,

"Go on, take it! The B-side market is all yours!"

Actually, before Alyssa, there had already been quite a few NPCs who had come here, curious about where to buy a cotton candy machine.

Looks like it wouldn’t just be the cotton candy selling like crazy tonight.

Even the "black tech" from Goblin Technology is going to sell out!

...

On the other end of the snack street,

A handsome man, who wore a thick scarf around his neck, was holding the hand of a green-haired girl.

He stopped in front of a stall selling miscellaneous items and picked up a palm-sized display screen, casually asking,

"Boss, where did you get this?"

Seeing that the neglected trinket had finally caught someone’s attention, the stall owner concealed his glee and said cheerfully,

"Ah, this? Found it near the Inner City. It’s probably an Old Aristocrat’s collection. If you like it... I’ll sell it to you for 10 Silver Coins."

"You must be joking. This piece of junk for 10 Silver Coins? I think 10 chips are more like it."

Fang Chang laughed and was about to put the item back.

Seeing this, the stall owner immediately panicked and quickly changed his offer,

"5 Silver Coins! How about 5 Silver Coins?"

Fang Chang shook his head and gestured with his index finger.

"1 Silver Coin, if not, forget it; I even find holding it troublesome."

"...Alright, I’ll take the loss!" The vendor reluctantly nodded with a bitter expression but hid a gleam of satisfaction beneath his lowered brow.

It was something he had found anyway.

Not to mention one Silver Coin, he made a profit even on half a Silver Coin!

Without exposing the hidden glee behind the vendor’s expression, Fang Chang smiled, left 1 Silver Coin on the stall, and lightly pulled on Dolly’s little hand, leading her forward.

Walking beside him, Dolly, driven by curiosity, peered at what he held.

"What is this... Eh? It looks like yours!"

Fang Chang joked.

"After all, they are family."

"Family?"

"Mm, the difference between father and son," Fang Chang casually tossed the palm-sized trader in his hand and smiled faintly, "This one is the son."

The battery was out of power, and no numbers or lines could be seen on the screen; otherwise, it would have been spectacular.

Speaking of which, he had thought Kishu would come to look for him in "North Suburb," so he had purposely stayed in City of Dawn for so long, but unexpectedly, that coward fled.

Well, he fled alright. He wouldn’t fret about that simpleton.

Everything was self-inflicted.

Dolly glanced at Fang Chang and asked softly.

"So, did you end up pressing that button?"

"No," Fang Chang pocketed the trader and said in a light tone, "You said not to press it, so I didn’t. After all, the outcome made no difference."

He had already taken what he wanted from here, and the rest were just empty numbers anyway.

Besides, by the end, the chips themselves had collapsed, and the S Coin linked to them also lost meaning. Whether that final step occurred or not made no difference.

"It’s surprising though... I never thought Giant Stone City would become this lively one day." Looking toward the bustling street in the distance, Dolly said somewhat sentimentally.

Fang Chang smiled warmly.

"Got an inspiration for tomorrow’s headline?"

"Mm!" Dolly nodded, her eyes suddenly lit up as she continued, "Do you think someone might see the fireworks over Giant Stone City and come from far away to join us?"

It was a sudden thought.

Apart from those well-known survivor settlements, countless large and small survivor communities were hidden across the wasteland.

Even Qingquan City had quite a few!

Fang Chang smiled and patted her head.

"You never know, actually many survivors in the Alliance came to us that way."

He remembered when Frost Spear Tribe first arrived, they had seen the rising smoke in the "North Suburb" and decided to bring their people to give it a try.

Unlike the ideals buried in their hearts, prosperity was something visible.

As the fireworks reflected in people’s eyes, those yearning for light naturally followed it, guided by the radiance.

Just like the wasteland wanderers including Frost Spear Tribe, so too did the workers of Giant Stone City.

And in the future, even more survivors tired of the wasteland would unite under this common flag they held.

It was a greater weapon than guns.

And capable of doing things guns couldn’t...

At this moment, Fang Chang didn’t realize, just as he said, under this same night sky, many were gazing at the flames burning in the sky from the darkness.

In the eastern suburbs of Qingquan City, more than a dozen ox carts were parked beside the highway outside the city, where several caravan guards gathered, lighting cigarettes with matches.

"How are we spending the winter outside this year? The Tide came early."

"There’s been a situation at Giant Stone City. Can’t go there now."

"Situation? What situation?"

"Change is in the air."

The more experienced guards glanced at the group of "cargo" next to the ox carts with disdain, "If we hadn’t brought these fellows, we could still go."

Previously, the Alliance did not interfere with the slave trade; they merely prohibited the mistreatment or killing of slaves on Alliance territory, and sometimes even purchased slaves passing through their lands.

But ever since they defeated the Army, those Blue Ground Mice suddenly stopped performing. They began to imitate the settlements in Province of Yúnjiānxíng by banning all forms of human trafficking.

This caused them to avoid the borders of the Alliance, and they had to act separately when purchasing supplies.

"Damn Blue Ground Mice..." a guard cursed under his breath as he tossed his cigarette butt onto the snow and stomped it out vigorously.

Another guard cursed as well,

"Hope they don’t survive the spring!"

Huddled near a double-headed cow for warmth, the slaves overheard the guards’ curses and quietly exchanged whispers.

"Where will they take us?"

"I heard the boss say we’re heading north."

"I think it was something like Bush..."

A young man sitting in a corner suddenly chimed in,

"Free State?"

Hearing this unfamiliar voice, everyone turned to look at the young man.

They recognized him; although he appeared dirty and disheveled, he was actually clean and well-groomed, distinct from their own blackened and skinny forms, so he would probably sell for more.

About two weeks ago, shortly after they had entered River Valley Province, they found this half-dead guy in the wilderness.

Afterward, he got caught by the gun-wielding guards, got robbed of his luggage, and ended up shackled alongside them.

Thinking he might know something, a curly-haired boy asked curiously,

"Have you been there?"

Another boy, not old-looking, interjected,

"I heard it’s a nice place."

Hearing their discussion, Kishu twisted his cracked lips,

"Maybe."

After what he had gone through, he was no longer inclined to trust hearsay.

A scrawny young man moved closer to him.

"Hey, you seem to know a lot."

Kishu laughed self-deprecatingly,

"You’ve got poor judgment; all you see before you is trash."

The young man was stunned.

He had met individuals with foul mouths, but never one who bad-mouthed himself.

This guy was definitely unusual.

"So... do you know about the Alliance?"

"The Alliance..." Kishu’s eyes betrayed a complicated expression as he muttered, "It might be a good place for you guys."

The curly-haired boy lowered his head, murmuring a complaint,

"Cut it out, if they were as good as you say, why wouldn’t they come to rescue us?"

Kishu responded offhandedly,

"They only save themselves and those worth saving."

Another boy couldn’t help but quietly ask,

"What counts as worth saving?"

"At least you’d have to save yourself first."

How ironic.

In the end, he became the one best understanding those people.

Kishu laughed self-deprecatingly again.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

He was as good as dead anyway...

Whatever will be, will be.

Most slaves glanced at each other, unable to decipher his riddle, and turned back to discuss their destination, the place known as Free State.

Some said they were actually headed to the swamps up north.

Although it was pointless to discuss this topic since they couldn’t decide where they would be sold, they had nothing else to do anyway.

Only the lean young man squatting beside Kishu stared unblinkingly at the distant fireworks, murmuring to himself,

"People who are saved... save themselves."

He wanted to learn more about the Alliance.

It wasn’t because of rumors of its grandeur, nor because of the beautiful fireworks, but purely because of the fierce guards who changed their expressions when the Alliance was mentioned.

Like mice seeing a cat.

He too wanted that kind of power!

The power feared by the Wasteland!

In the unnoticed corner, a seed had been quietly planted...

No one knew what it would grow into.

The New Year’s Eve celebration continued, the festive atmosphere not only filling the streets but spilling into the shops along the way.

At the Pirate Bay Tavern, located on the edge of Giant Stone City, the wood in the fireplace crackled loudly, and the rather small room was crowded with noisy guests.

Since that incident, the tavern had been closed for renovation.

However, starting tonight, on New Year’s Eve, Giant Stone City lifted the curfew, and the tavern was able to reopen.

Among those drinking here were a mix of mercenaries, workers from the settlements, and some citizens.

Since last week, the industrial products of Giant Stone City had begun flowing into Luo Xia Province via the trade hub of Falling Leaves City, and the grains of Luo Xia Province flowed back in return.

With the resumption of logistics, watered-down inferior beer had become a thing of the past.

A kilogram of corn cost less than 1 Silver Coin, and a cup of beer only needed 1 Silver Coin, while a large one only required 2 Silver Coins.

According to the Alliance’s newly implemented minimum wage standard of 2 Silver Coins per hour, even the cheapest labor on a construction team could earn two cups of beer in one hour.

Not to mention the mercenaries, whose life-risking tasks generally added one or two zeros to the payment of mere physical labor.

"This place hasn’t been this lively in a long time."

"Yeah."

A few cement factory workers sat together, drinking beer and munching on grilled skewers while watching the flickering fireworks outside and chatting.

"...That apartment building is amazing! Don’t laugh, but I never imagined I’d one day live in a house with stairs!"

"Bathing has become so much easier too!"

At this point, someone who had drunk too much stood up and shouted.

"Praise the Manager! Praise the Alliance! For giving us pure beer! And windproof houses!"

Laughter and cheers erupted around.

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"Your desires are too modest, let the Alliance find you a wife too!"

"No rush on that. I heard even the Manager himself doesn’t have one."

"Ah, I really hope he has more children."

"Too bad Lovett doesn’t have a daughter; otherwise, we might actually get a chance to forge a closer bond between Giant Stone City and the Alliance... in the literal sense of bloodline."

Though the Workers’ Association often said that ideals were stronger bonds than bloodline, still, people’s simple wishes and passions could not be restrained.

The arrogant nobles in the city were gone.

The gangs outside the city had been eradicated.

The fierce mercenaries had also started to live cautiously.

The military power of the Alliance was immensely strong.

They could light up the entire night sky with fireworks, and no one doubted that they could also counter a surging tide with a downpour of artillery shells.

At that moment, a cloaked man pushed open the door and entered the bar.

The bartender standing behind the bar glanced at him and said in a nonchalant tone,

"What will it be?"

The man removed his hood and, seeing the bartender behind the bar, showed a look of surprise on his face.

"You’re still alive?"

The bartender faintly smiled and replied,

"Do I have a reason I must die?"

The man squinted and stared at the bartender for a while.

Of course, this guy was no ordinary bartender, but the owner of Pirate Bay Tavern known as White Shark.

He liked to stand in front of the bar washing glasses, often being mistaken for a bartender. However, those familiar with him knew he couldn’t mix drinks, unless poison counted as a drink.

Selling drinks was only one of the tavern’s sources of income; a bigger business was another type of intermediary service.

Nobles from the Inner City, having inconvenient work that needed manpower but reluctant to personally deal with the crude mercenaries and gang members, therefore required the role of a middleman. Some commercial teams in need of hiring bodyguards would look for reliable middlemen to introduce reliable people.

And this guy named White Shark was probably the most reliable middleman in this Survivor Settlement. Normally, if someone needed his help, they would order a glass of honey water.

Seeing the man had not ordered yet, the bartender placed a cup of warm water in front of him.

The man did not drink but muttered to himself,

"The head and the second in command of Poison Gang are dead."

White Shark replied in his usual casual tone,

"It was at the city gate, right? I heard they died horribly."

"You don’t seem surprised at all, they were your major clients... Oh, I get it," the man’s face showed a sudden realization, looking at him with a sardonic smile, "you, after all this time, turned out to be a dog for the Alliance."

If the Alliance wanted to quickly get rid of the gangs outside the Giant Wall, starting with the business handled by these intermediaries was undoubtedly the simplest way.

White Shark didn’t deny the man’s words, simply smiled faintly,

"Not everyone has the privilege to serve the Alliance as a ’dog.’ It’s an honor to serve the real big shots... Besides, if you don’t want to be kicked out, it’s best you find a more polite term."

Such as informant.

That’s what the Guards Corps called him, and he preferred that title.

"Don’t be like that, buddy," the man said with a smile, waving his hand in a pleading gesture, "So, what should I call you?"

White Shark replied in a conversational tone,

"The same as before is fine, my job hasn’t changed much, just a tavern owner after all."

The man narrowed his eyes.

"And what if today I don’t want a drink but need to get in touch with some reliable mercenaries?"

"You’ve come to the right person."

Putting down the glass he was wiping, White Shark set the glass and towel aside, looked at the man across the bar, and continued,

"Tell me, what’s the work?"

The man slowly began,

"There’s been some trouble with the business down south, I need some tough guys, at least ten, with sufficient firepower."

White Shark raised his eyebrows,

"Mercenaries?"

"No..." the man shook his head, his expression gloomy, "it’s not as simple as just mercenaries; it involves mutants."

"Is that so, the general mercenary groups probably won’t meet your needs," White Shark rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment, then pulled out a tablet from beneath the bar and handed it to him, "Just fill in your requirements here."

Taking the tablet, the man was slightly startled.

"What’s this?"

White Shark briefly explained,

"A terminal from the Mercenary Guild."

Seeing the man looked even more confused, he continued,

"You might not know since you’ve just arrived. Recently, the Alliance set up a pilot Mercenary Guild in Giant Stone City, now mercenaries in Giant Stone City need to register and be approved before they can take up work."

Because pubs that join are marked on the map provided by the Mercenary Guild, most taverns aimed at mercenaries have become an "offline branch" of the Mercenary Guild.

The man’s brow twitched.

"Do even you guys have an organization?"

"Yes, and it’s mandatory," White Shark shrugged, "the guild is responsible for assigning mercenary levels, assessing task success rates, and matching task difficulties with qualifications... handing high-difficulty tasks to low-level mercenaries would incur joint liability."

The man exclaimed in surprise,

"This sounds somewhat similar to the mercenary guild in the Bugra Free State up north."

White Shark shrugged,

"It’s not exactly the same, for instance, the commissions. Here, besides the commissions paid to the Mercenary Guild, there is also an additional guarantee fund paid by the employer."

The man frowned and asked,

"What’s that?"

White Shark replied casually,

"It’s kind of like insurance, but not quite like the deceptive stuff Giant Stone Bank used to manage. For example, if you become disabled, someone will help you with prosthetics, and when you reach retirement age, you’ll get a pension. In Bugra, I remember it was an optional service, but here it’s mandatory."

The man curled the corner of his mouth,

"Heh, tying those people down with money?"

White Shark chuckled,

"You could say that. The pension is linked to the mercenary level, so if you don’t want your pension to go down the drain, it’s better not to get involved in unregistered ’black work’. Deductions are a minor issue, losing your qualification is major."

Indeed, it was a clever idea.

The reason these mercenaries were insubordinate was largely because they were unbridled.

Most of them had no concept of savings, living as if they were drunk today, because tomorrow, a small mistake could end their lives.

One could hardly expect a person who never planned to live past the age of 35 to think about things many years ahead.

Now, through the Mercenary Guild, the Alliance was forcing them to save for later life and using that money to control them.

If a mercenary normally took on work, they were likely to get assignments within their capabilities, ensuring their present and future livelihoods were secure.

However, if they took on unregistered and illegal ’black work’ and were discovered, they would face not only law enforcement penalties but also sanctions from the Mercenary Guild.

If their professional qualification—i.e., mercenary level—was downgraded, they wouldn’t just miss out on jobs; their future financial security would be affected as well.

On the other hand, by having the Mercenary Guild register the contract details, it also constrained both the employers and employees, reducing the trust cost between them and preventing potential social harm from the contracts.

Although both were called Mercenary Guilds, the Alliance’s intention and nature in establishing theirs were entirely different from those of Bugra Free State.

The latter was to benefit corporate efficiencies through "labor outsourcing," while the Alliance’s approach was a compromising solution to existing societal problems.

This arrangement was beneficial for everyone.

"...It’s not realistic to expect a bunch of desperadoes to change professions on the spot; the Wasteland needs them too much, and they wouldn’t take on other work or adapt to routine jobs. But leaving them be is not an option either, as Giant Stone City has a bunch of these guys. So, the Alliance made a compromise. Private armaments are necessary in the Wasteland, but they must be regulated."

The man furrowed his brow and said,

"But if you have to register, wouldn’t that mean many contracts couldn’t be done?"

Like some that involved killing.

"Heh, if you want to find someone to do the dirty work, it’s still possible, but I’m afraid I can’t help you with that... The Alliance has been keeping a close eye on me, and I don’t want to make money that could cost me my life. You wouldn’t want to get shot, right?"

Seeing the man remain silent, White Shark smiled lightly and continued in a hushed tone,

"But if it’s clean work, like exploring relics, running errands, exterminating Looters, etc... I could even help you get more professional experts."

The man raised his eyebrows,

"More professional?"

White Shark nodded slightly,

"Yes, many Residents of the refuge have also registered as mercenaries, many of whom are old soldiers who came back from Luo Xia Province. They are much better equipped and experienced than those loose soldiers. If you need to deal with a group of Mutants, no one is more suited than them."

Upon hearing this, the man held his breath,

Old soldiers from Luo Xia Province!

If he could hire some of the Alliance’s Blue Jackets, his old home might actually be saved!

"How can I hire those people?"

A pleasant smile appeared on White Shark’s face, as he tapped the tablet in his hand,

"I’ve already told you the method. Simply register properly, record the details, and then pay a deposit and advance some of the reward."

"Within 24 hours, someone will arrange it for you."

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