This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 616: The Price of Getting Stronger

Chapter 616: Chapter 616: The Price of Getting Stronger

The coldest January had passed, and the February sun already carried hints of warmth, no longer as icy as when winter first arrived, as if one were being dipped in cold water.

In the entire winter, Brocade River City had hardly seen a few snowflakes, so there likely wouldn’t be any issues with flooding from melting snow. However, Hammer still felt some unease in his heart, given that going forward, they wouldn’t have the blessings of Nago.

If there were any aches and pains, the Church wouldn’t be there to take care of them anymore.

One thing to be thankful for was that the gray-green fog had finally cleared completely, and the iron monsters floating in the sky had left as well.

Hammer couldn’t help but wonder, could that moldy-smelling fog have been brought by that thing?

Otherwise, it was difficult to explain why the fog had appeared just as that thing had arrived.

And when that thing left, the fog disappeared too...

At that moment, the sound of the clock chiming punctually from outside the window was followed by a long crowing, reminiscent of a rooster’s call.

"Assemble—!"

That was the call of the team leader.

A burly man came out carrying drums and gongs, striking them while also shouting at the top of his voice.

As the man shouted, the women, the elderly, and the children who were neither too old nor too young joined in the clamor.

Though what they shouted was different, their tones were equally hurried.

Hearing the clanging of the clock and the noisy commotion outside, Hammer didn’t hesitate to leave his wife and children, hastily getting dressed and rushing out the door to line up at the team leader’s urging and scolding.

Since the arrival of the new lord of the city, new rules had been brought to this settlement.

He had turned Singular Point City into assorted "blocks," with ten persons to a group, ten groups to a team, and ten teams to a district, with men, women, children, and the elderly all having their respective organizations and work, including agriculture, building, resource gathering, handicraft, as well as education, among others.

In short, each district had its own production tasks, which were delegated level by level, each more specific than the last. From a vague overall construction area, it came down to a specific window or door of a particular building; from a piece of farmland, it came down to what to plant in a specific acre.

The assessment of outcomes was the same, with the town master reviewing the district leaders, district leaders reviewing team leaders, team leaders checking on group leaders, and group leaders managing the other nine persons in the group.

If a district failed to meet its production target, the material allocation for the entire district would be downgraded, and the living standards for everyone in that district would collectively decline. Then the district leader would review the responsibilities of each team within the district, assigning blame and punishment level by level, pinpointing the specific team where the problem arose, and then reducing the living standards for that team by one level.

And so on and so forth.

Although the town master had set only three living standards, in reality, there were actually 3*3*3 levels of distinction.

In a sense, it was a form of collective punishment.

If one person slacked off, ten would be punished together, and consequently, nine would begrudge that one slacker, with no one wanting to become the unfortunate soul hated by others.

However, while Singular Point City’s myriad of rules were unusual, the selection of managerial personnel was ridiculously arbitrary.

Hammer still remembered when everyone was being numbered, everyone was still trying to figure out what the new rules meant, the new town master suddenly announced that those who wished to be managerial staff should step forward, and then Hammer saw the former overseers from the farm stand up immediately.

Those who stood up first became the group leaders.

And then through some unknown method to Hammer, they chose the team leaders and district leaders from among these people.

Every time he thought about that moment, he couldn’t help but regret, why didn’t he have the courage to step forward at that time? Seeing those overseers stepping out, he retracted the foot he had almost extended.

If only he had stepped forward a little bit faster, maybe he would have become a group leader too?

Then it would be him calling out to others to wake up.

...

At six o’clock, the bell rang, and all the houses in Singular Point City were emptied.

Households immediately disbanded and assembled into teams amidst the shouts, and under the leadership of the group leaders, they trickled toward team gatherings.

Apart from the eight hours set aside for sleep, the rest of the day’s work or rest time was spent within this organizational structure.

Although this management mode fragmented family units, due to the unified schedule and timetable, it wasn’t particularly chaotic to manage.

There was also no need to worry about anyone not cooperating.

The allocation of supplies was not distributed on a family basis, but was entirely managed and allocated by the organization, making it impossible to take rations home to help one’s family.

Giving the distributed clothes to family members to wear at home was not a problem, but that was as far as it went.

After all, once someone stepped outside their home, they were sure to be seen by others in the group who would report them, and both the giver and the receiver would be punished.

The informer would receive an additional reward.

Reporting rule violations was not difficult, there was no need to go through a group leader, one could simply report directly to the patrolling drones.

At six twenty, all group members assembled and began to jog slowly in circles to warm up, finishing just in time for breakfast.

Breakfast was usually a bowl of hot porridge, and after finishing, it was seven o’clock, time to start the day’s work.

Some people, carrying axes and saws, cut down the Nago-planted Cam trees outside the enclosing wall and used flamethrowers to clear the land, preparing for the upcoming spring planting.

Others were busy back and forth on the construction site, building public facilities and new dormitories.

No one slacked off.

On one hand, people wanted to make a good impression on their new masters, and on the other hand, no one was willing to live on just two pieces of horned-potato and a protein paste the size of a middle finger length every day.

Even though the living standard of the middle tier was also quite monotonous, the horned potato would be replaced with potatoes or rice, the menu would include an additional dish of boiled greens, and the middle finger length of protein paste would be replaced with one hundred to three hundred grams of meat.

Yes.

There was actually meat!

Leaving aside the residents of Hope Town who had always had it fairly good, the liberated serfs had been working with all their might.

Kong Lingkai, on the other hand, had a face full of woes and complained incessantly at the construction site.

How had he, who had lived in luxury all his life, ever done such physical labor?

He was already regretting coming here with the residents of Hope Town, constantly cursing Ma Hechang, the person who had deceived him into coming here.

Unfortunately for him, leaving was no longer an option.

In order to gain protection and new power from the Alliance, he had willingly handed over his servants and property to the new city master, only to find out that all he got in return was a dilapidated room with a number.

Not even a single silver coin.

Later, he found it hilariously ridiculous when he heard from the on-duty soldiers that this was just Singular Point City, not the Alliance, so naturally, they had no intention of compensating him according to the laws of the Alliance.

The soldier told him that he was free to leave anytime, but where could he possibly go?

Outside was the Wasteland!

He couldn’t even handle the more significant tasks, and going to the Wasteland, he might not even leave bones behind!

Ma Hechang, also from Hope Town, had the same worried and pained expression, struggling with the bricks and gasping for breath, his shoulders and arms aching as if they were stripped of sinew.

He thought his earnest actions had been enough to earn the trust of the Alliance, but it turned out they didn’t care at all, not to mention any privileges, they didn’t even offer him slightly better treatment.

Furthermore, those people even looked down on his managerial skills, preferring those who were faster rather than paying attention to him, who had once managed a town of a thousand households!

Truly, it was a warm face to a cold backside!

Full of resentment, Ma Hechang cursed in his heart, yet he was powerless to do anything.

After all, the power was in others’ hands, and now that he was here, he had to endure it...

Looking at the bustling, spirited settlement before her, Yinyin, standing at the gate of the manor, had a face full of surprise.

Having lived on the farm for so long, she had never seen everyone working with such enthusiasm.

"Are we in the wrong place..." she murmured softly to herself.

Standing next to her, holding her small hand, Solar Eclipse had the same look of surprise on his face.

But the reason for his surprise was completely different.

Instead of saying this was a settlement, it seemed more like a prison.

It now knew what Mr. Kang Le was worried about...

This guy had indeed been observing every habitation of the Alliance and was seriously conducting sociological research, looking for a suitable management model for the Waste Land Wanderers.

But it was highly likely that it considered the Alliance’s POW camps as some sort of special gathering place for observation as well...

"Ah, Solar Eclipse, you’re finally back!" Noticing the Tiger Whale Transport Aircraft parked at the entrance of the settlement, Frost, dressed in a maid’s outfit, approached with a smile.

Her smile shimmered with satisfaction, especially when her gaze landed on Yinyin next to Solar Eclipse.

"How is it? Are you satisfied with your new body?"

Yinyin nodded and softly said,

"Thank you."

She had followed Solar Eclipse to Ideal City not long ago, where she underwent a transplant surgery at a hospital under the Kang Mao Group banner, implanting her consciousness-storing bionic chip into a new body tailor-made for her.

Although she had become a bionic human, it seemed there was no difference from before.

In fact, it was more convenient.

After a few days of adaptation, she not only slowly mastered her new body, but also gradually discovered her newfound abilities—

She could sense the presence of other chips, perceive the thoughts of others like her who had implanted bionic chips, and through their thoughts, form a broader space by way of resonance.

That space was even vaster than the pure white room she had previously been in.

It seemed to be the place where Luo Gan had stayed before.

Though she didn’t know why he did this, he seemed to have given it all to her.

Yinyin had already told Chen Yutong about this matter; though its utility was unclear at the moment, perhaps it would be useful in the future.

"No need for politeness, rather, I should be the one thanking you," Frost said as she crouched in front of Yinyin, taking her right hand and speaking with a beaming smile, "Believe me, this is just the beginning—the future Singular Point City will be even better!"

Yinyin blushed and nodded.

She didn’t understand those complicated matters; her gaze was fixed on the dress that Frost was wearing.

Unable to curb her curiosity, she asked quietly,

"What kind of dress is that?"

"Ah, this?" Frost let go of her hand, stood, spun in place, and, with a smile, lifted the hem of the dress that reached her ankles. "This is a work of art designed by Vine Cottage, and it’s very popular in City of Dawn! Isn’t it impressive?"

Of course, it wasn’t just this one that was popular—there were many varieties and styles to choose from.

It was just that, according to her meticulous observations, the dress had the highest turnaround when she wore it.

Looking at the beautiful pleats, Yinyin nodded with admiration in her eyes.

"So impressive..."

Frost’s lips curled with pride.

"The creative potential of humans is boundless; assigning them to repetitive tasks is simply wasting their creativity. One day, I will liberate them from burdensome obligations to pursue more meaningful endeavors."

Yinyin looked confused; however, the affection and envy in her eyes were genuine.

Appreciating beautiful things was human nature, and if possible, she too wished to try on a dress.

It was just that she didn’t know if there was one that would fit her size.

"...Can I try it on too?"

Frost smiled and nodded.

"Of course you can, it’s just a pity that I only have this one. But no matter, difficulties are temporary; one day we’ll make it possible for everyone here to wear one!"

Everyone would wear one?

Yinyin paused, feeling that something was amiss, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, so she unconsciously tilted her little head.

Solar Eclipse rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then suddenly spoke up.

"So, you keep talking about creativity...what exactly is it?"

Frost replied immediately with a smile.

"Of course, it’s the human pursuit of beautiful things! Since the subject is human, it’s a capacity that androids lack, and it’s a capacity only humans can possess."

Solar Eclipse’s expression grew even more puzzled.

"But I’ve seen the work schedules you’ve set up for them; you’ve arranged all their time for them. Do they have any time left to pursue that kind of thing?"

Confidence and charm radiated from Frost’s face.

"These are minor issues! ’The pursuit of beautiful things’ is also part of the plan. When the time is right, I’ll prompt them to pursue it!"

Solar Eclipse stared at it, dazed.

Not only Yinyin was tilting her head this time, but it too found itself involuntarily doing the same.

It suddenly felt that it was not just humans that were hard to understand, but its own kind as well...

...

"Survivor’s Daily · Page Seven"

[...After a period of adjustment, the survivors in Singular Point City have finally settled into a well-ordered life under the oversight of the androids. The influence of Nago, plague, and religious powers is slowly being eradicated from this land.

The acting Mayor of Singular Point City welcomes all Commercial Teams to trade there, providing an unlimited supply of high-quality rubber and cotton while urgently needing fertilizer, high-yield Seeds, agriculture-related machinery, and various industrial consumer goods.

Our paper will continue to follow up on the situation in Singular Point City.

——Reporter, Dolly]

Giant Stone City, Pirate Bay Tavern – although it was 8 a.m., the place was already bustling.

A man with a goatee flipped through the newspaper in his hands, smacking his lips with a grin.

"Isn’t that nice, they get everything without doing anything. Food, housing, clothing, even androids to take care of their daily needs, and a railway to boot."

Hearing his sarcastically tinged complaint, a drunk at the next table, laughing, said,

"How can you say that? Everything in this world has a price, and they’ve surely paid the most expensive one."

The goateed man curled his lip.

"Price? I don’t see any."

The drunk let out a long burp and pointed to the beer mug on the table.

"The price—this, the right to drink at eight in the morning, the right to sleep whenever you want."

Those around them were first startled, then burst into laughter.

Especially the man with the goatee, who laughed the hardest, spilling beer foam onto his beard.

"We ought to send this sot in there! He’d be sure to kick this drinking habit!"

Listening to the jest, the drunk hugged his beer mug tightly, shouting out.

"Dream on, you can kill me, but don’t think you can make me give it up!"

The crowd roared with laughter again.

"I’ll vouch for it! This guy definitely sticks to his word!"

"After all, that’s how he scared off his wife!"

"Ha ha ha!"

They were all workers who had just finished the night shift.

Lately, business in the industrial zone was booming, factory orders were increasing by the day, and consequently, business at the tavern and beer sales were better than ever.

Giant Stone City currently enforces the laws of the Alliance, and the city’s lord is also the president of the Workers’ Association. The eight-hour workday is strictly enforced, forcing those factory owners to hire more workers in order to keep the assembly line running 24 hours a day.

Originally, an adult and a child could rotate shifts to keep an assembly line running nonstop for 24 hours, but now those owners have to pay the salaries of three adults.

At first, these rules terrified them to the extent that they wanted to give up their factories. However, eventually, they all came sniffing back, lured by the scent of silver coins.

It turned out that forgoing a couple of bottles of red wine wouldn’t actually kill those owners, and now all the residents of Giant Stone City could afford the beer with its wheaty aroma.

Watching the raucous burly men, a gently-featured citizen shook his head while reading the newspaper and sighed.

"...You are all too unaware of the crisis at hand. Think carefully about what month it is now."

A drunken worker looked at him and laughed.

"February! I’m not that drunk, so what about it?"

"The Tide! You’ve all forgotten about the Tide!" The citizen muttered in complaint, "I really hope Lovett remembers we still have this big problem and doesn’t just focus on that rail order worth hundreds of millions of silver coins."

The Workers’ Association did indeed do some good recently, but he always worried that some of them were being too radical.

He wasn’t opposed to moving closer to the Alliance; it was good for the economy of Giant Stone City, but were these people overly concerned about others’ interests?

At least now was a special time, and he felt it would be better to be more conservative.

The bearded man actually shared his thoughts, but he didn’t agree with his timidity.

"The Tide? What’s there to worry about? The Tide comes every year, and we’ve always made it through."

The gently-featured citizen glanced at him.

"This year is different from the others. We’ve dismantled the Inner City, and now we must rely on ourselves."

The bearded man laughed heartily.

"Friend, you really are a joker. When haven’t we relied on ourselves? Those cowards, apart from getting their power armors dusty in the warehouse, when have they ever rushed ahead of us?"

Another worker from the canning factory chimed in as well.

"That’s right, and we have united. The survivors from the entire southern River Valley Province have come together; there will be fewer deaths this year, no matter what!"

Looking at it this way, drawing closer to the Alliance does have its benefits.

Crises abound in the Wasteland; wherever you are is dangerous, whether you’re a resident of Giant Stone City or Singular Point City, everyone on this wasteland is suffering; the more that unite, the safer it becomes. Looking down on one another only pleases the lurking jackals.

Looking at the newspaper in hand, the bearded man suddenly felt relieved once more.

It’s not a bad thing, after all, to be proactive about matters in the South.

Looking at these folks wholly without a sense of crisis, the gently-featured citizen sighed.

"But this year is different from the past! It’s been a warm winter! Don’t you feel anything? Look at the weather outside the window, the snow in Giant Stone City has never stopped this early before."

This remark hit the nail on the head.

Indeed, they were more united than before, but the difficulties they would face this year were also unprecedented.

The patrons in the bar looked at each other, unsure of what to say, and the atmosphere turned slightly silent.

At that moment, a voice floated over from the direction of the bar, breaking the silence.

"The Iron Heart has returned from the South, I think you all don’t need to worry so much."

Looking at the slightly cooled atmosphere of the tavern, the bartender, who had been silently wiping glasses behind the bar, continued in a joking tone.

"I heard that our esteemed Manager killed a ten-meter-tall giant with just a hammer. Have any of you seen a Variant taller than that?"

There actually were ten-meter-tall mucosal entities, and not a few of them, but the people present had never been to the city center, naturally, they wouldn’t have seen any.

The crowd gasped in astonishment.

"A ten-meter-tall giant?!"

"Is that true...?"

"That would mean... even more powerful than Pol!"

"Wait, I think I’ve heard about this... Survivor’s Daily seems to have published that issue! The guy even had wings, reportedly a Variant improved by Torch, flew onto the Steel Heart with over ten thousand of his descendants, only to be glared at by the Manager and knelt on the deck right there and then."

"Hissss..."

"Bluffing, right?! Are there really Mutants like that?"

"I’ll ask Spielberg later, he has seen the Manager!"

Watching those noisy drunks, White Shark’s mouth curled into a pleased smile.

It was entertaining to watch those thoughtless folks spread rumors.

Especially since he was moonlighting as an intelligence trafficker and an informant for the Guards Corps.

Rumors brought business to his door.

Lately, Waste Land Wanderers from the north had been gathering intelligence about the Manager, especially news of the Manager’s activities in the south.

Bugra Free State seemed to be increasingly intrigued by their neighbor, the Alliance.

Some were journalists from over there, some were spies from the Firestone Group.

He usually got paid from both ends.

On one side, with the tacit consent of the Guards Corps, he provided some "watered-down" insider information to those prying folks using his connections, and on the other, he fed the active leads of those prying folks to the Guards Corps.

The bar came alive again, but the topic shifted from the south and the Tide to the Manager and Mutants.

Most people here idolized strength more than a sharp and useful mind.

So, unbeknownst to Chu Guang, and in a time and place he was unaware of, his popularity had increased yet again...

The man sitting at the bar spoke not a word, oblivious to the bustling atmosphere around him, glancing at his watch now and then.

His attire, compared to the other patrons, was conspicuously more polished – his watch an imported good from the Camel Hump Kingdom with blood diamonds on its face, and his shoes made from the leather of the Claw of Death.

Clearly, he was a merchant and a well-off one at that.

Pulling his attention away from the lively tavern, White Shark glanced at him and spoke softly.

"Don’t worry, your daughter is fine... I’ve found out through my channels."

Missions undertaken by personnel from Shelter No. 404 seldom failed.

Their commitment to their missions often exceeded their own lives, especially the ones they ideologically believed in.

For instance, rescuing an innocent girl from the clutches of an evil lord.

Other mercenaries might weigh the difficulty and payoff of a task and sell out their employers and their families, but those Blue Jacket folks mostly wouldn’t do so.

"Thank you."

Yang Shu took a deep breath, sipped his chilled lemon water, and after a moment of silence said, "I may... just be unsure how to face her."

"She is your own flesh and blood, what’s there to be afraid of?" White Shark murmured gently.

Yang Shu gave a wry smile.

It was precisely because she was his own flesh and blood that he felt guilty; he had burdened her with too much that she shouldn’t have had to bear, all for his own ambitions.

He was acutely aware that she was born to put Zhao Tiangan’s mind at ease, and he had even prepared for the possibility of a "broken family and lost lives" before she was born.

However, the moment she was born, when he truly became a father, the ice that had been coursing through his veins melted involuntarily...

She ended up as his Achilles’ heel, which was also the most painful part for him.

100,000 Silver Coins was the stake he placed on the gambling table, and he was prepared for the outcome regardless of win or lose.

Now he had won the gamble, Little Lamb was still alive.

Yet there was no excitement or joy in his heart, just profound guilt and fear.

At this moment, the sound of wind chimes came from the entrance.

He subconsciously turned his head and saw the person standing at the door, his pupils betraying a hint of excitement.

Little Lamb looked at her father, but seemed somewhat shy and hid behind Falling Feather.

Falling Feather gently patted her hand and looked towards the employer sitting at the bar, forcing a relaxed smile.

"I’ve brought your daughter back for you, and boy, we sure went through a lot. It nearly killed me."

"Thank you..."

Yang Shu looked at Falling Feather, who was now alone, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

He had many things he wanted to say and had specifically arranged to meet this benefactor, but when the time came, words failed him.

Watching Yang Shu struggle to speak, Falling Feather didn’t know he was mourning for Little Lamb’s spore entities; if he had known, he would have assured him that those things were like mushrooms—they’d regrow in a few days.

Falling Feather felt the gratitude and let out a hearty laugh.

"Don’t mention it, I took on the job as a mercenary; getting paid to do the work is only natural. Besides, your daughter actually helped us out a bit."

He had heard that the Alliance’s Biological Research Institute had used the antigens in her blood to develop a drug that could suppress the growth of that mycelium.

This would help the survivors around Brocade River City to get rid of Nago’s influence more quickly.

Falling Feather was very pleased with this outcome.

Originally, Frost had planned to retain a Nago plantation to help the locals wean off slowly to avoid mass illness, but with the new substitute drug, there was no longer any need to keep the plantation.

Yang Shu glanced awkwardly at White Shark, who nodded with a smile.

"As soon as this mercenary gentleman walked through the door, the final payment was made to him. Or were you thinking of offering him a drink?"

Yang Shu looked at Falling Feather and sincerely said,

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Falling Feather quickly waved his hand and said with a smile,

"No need, no need, what’s with drinking so early in the morning? I have another mission soon. Besides, you and your daughter are having a reunion, I shouldn’t intrude. The air isn’t great here; you should take her outside for a bit."

Yang Shu nodded in gratitude.

"Thank you..."

Falling Feather, feeling a bit helpless, scratched the back of his head.

"I already said, no thanks needed."

But thinking about how his efforts had brought a family together, he felt quite a sense of achievement inside.

As for the rest...

That was for the two of them to deal with themselves.

...

On the official Forum.

A new post was updated on the homepage.

["Fire Extinguishing Operation" has successfully concluded, and event rewards have been distributed to player accounts. Please check your account to claim them.]

[A new threat is emerging. The Tide in Qingquan City is already showing signs. The aftershock of the three-year War has never ended; this is the continuation of a conflict from two centuries ago——]

[The new event will officially start in spring. For more details, please stay tuned to the official announcements. Looking forward to it!]

Without a doubt, the most outstanding performers in the entire event were the burly men of the Jungle Corps, followed by the Chimera Armored Cars of the Skeleton Corps.

That war machine, with its brutal aesthetic, hit just the right spot in the taste of the players and Backseat Drivers.

Everyone began to look forward to the new spring event, the annual Tide.

It seems only the optimistic little players from Shelter No. 404 were unfazed by the upcoming post-warm winter Tide, even wishing for it to be more intense.

The departing mother entity didn’t know that in the eyes of some wearing Blue Jackets, she had become a beast that exploded with Gold Coins during the festival season.

The Forum was abuzz with cheer and excitement.

Apart from boasting about the rewards from the past event and predicting the content of the next, the focus of attention was, without a doubt, on Night Ten.

Night Ten sadly realized that every time he showed up on the Forum, no matter what he said, the topic would get derailed.

Makabazi: "Hahaha, isn’t that Night Ten? Bro, where’s your brother?"

Tail: "Could it be that he’s too embarrassed? Tail thinks you should drop a hint.

Elena: "How terrifying, to think Miss Teng Teng would have such an offhand formidable power. (slight_smile)"

Teng Teng: "?"

Debt Giant Eye: "You all are wronging Brother Night Ten. Maybe he just couldn’t find it? (slight_smile)"

Night Ten: "Piss off! MMP! I’m going to reroll! （｀Δ´）!"

Roller Washing Machine: "Don’t do it, bro. Your gear is so badass, it’ll be a pity to reroll. (slight_smile)"

That indeed was the crucial point.

Rerolling wasn’t a big deal, especially for veteran players who do it often.

The hard part was letting go.

Though he lost a tool for doing the job, that electrifying ability was just too damn strong!

Without exaggeration, it was even stronger than brother Springs’ Squirtle Suit with a shield.

His hands were not just for stunning people; with any conductor, he could shoot them as a railgun.

Yes.

Even Silver Coins could do.

If he took out all the Silver Coins in his VM, he could even kill someone with money.

And the electrical arc released directly through the energy capacitor theoretically could even penetrate a Deflection Shield!

What’s more outrageous is that even though most parts of his body had been replaced, his Perception hadn’t weakened and his experience gains were not too affected.

Fang Chang’s conjecture was that Perception Attributes, unlike Agility, did not enhance optic nerves or olfactory nerves - it actually improved the brain’s processing capacity for received signals.

In other words, like the Intelligence System, as long as the brain itself isn’t modified, or only modest modifications are made, experience gains won’t be greatly affected.

Due to its ridiculous strength, Wild Wind even wanted to swap heads with him.

Without a second’s hesitation, Night Ten refused outright.

Mole on the Run: "According to the general RPG pattern, hidden features need a certain level of favor to unlock. Why not improve the tycoon lady’s favor and see? Maybe she’ll install it for you voluntarily? (slight_smile)"

Night Ten: "Holy shit, really?!"

Mole on the Run: "How the hell would I know, try it yourself. (slight_smile)"

In fact, more diverse and fancy bionic parts are available for purchase in Ideal City.

The only uncertainty is whether they would be compatible with the prosthetics manufactured by the Academy.

But he felt these were minor issues.

In Wasteland OL, you get a new life every three days; worrying about this seemed rather small-minded.

If he was in a real hurry to use it.

Not just installing one, he could do a few more—if necessary.