This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 700: The Soil Breeding Chaos

Chapter 700: Chapter 700: The Soil Breeding Chaos

Jin Galun Harbor.

The slum near the Governor’s Mansion.

The open space, originally used by the poor to dry clothes, was now packed with a dense crowd of people.

Although it was called a drying area, the ropes were mostly hung with rag-like scraps that barely covered one’s privacy.

Due to low education rates and the absence of contraception or other means of entertainment, the locals liked to procreate whenever they had the chance, which resulted in there being more people than clothes.

Some of the most disadvantaged survivors even shared a single robe among family members, worn by whoever needed to go out.

Thus, when Ah Xin stood in the middle of the crowd, his clean striped shirt and coarse canvas pants made him stand starkly out of place both in demeanor and appearance compared to those around him in old clothes or even wrapped in sheets.

Eventually, in a bout of shoving, an old man with a face full of wrinkles and sallow skin was pushed forward.

His name was Jia Yi. He was from the Rat Clan, not yet sixty but looking like he was of grave age.

However, in the slums of Jin Galun Harbor, living to sixty was indeed considered old age. Most people did not make it past their forties.

The locals on the street unanimously believed that since he was a child of the Rat Clan, it was most appropriate for an elder of the Rat Clan to address him.

They needed to clarify three things.

First, what exactly those "Iron Man" had told him that day, and second, where he got the money for the clothes he was wearing.

As for the third and most important matter—

What did they mean by asking them to move?

The old man, pushed to the front, had a look of helplessness but also knew that it was most suitable for him to handle the situation.

Clearing his throat, he looked at the young man in front of him with a stern expression.

"Ah Xin, you are a good kid. I watched you grow up. I even held you when you were no bigger than a coconut shell."

Ah Xin nodded.

"I remember, Grandpa Jia Yi."

A relieved smile appeared on the old man’s face, but the deep wrinkles soon tightened again.

"We all know you are a decent and honest boy, and your family are good people on this street, so you are with us, right?"

"Of course."

Ah Xin nodded again, glanced at Grandpa Jia Yi, looked at the neighbors around him, and continued slowly,

"I can swear to my God that I want everyone here to live a better life more than anyone else."

His words had just finished when an indignant shout erupted from beside him.

"So, what do you mean by asking us to move?"

The shout instantly ignited the emotions of the people around, and a successive barrage of accusations drowned out the two standing amid the crowd.

"That’s right! What do you mean by that!"

"This is our home! We are not going anywhere!"

"How many benefits did those people give you!"

"Right! Now I understand where your clothes came from!"

"Pah! A backstabber!"

"I knew there was nothing good about this bunch of rats!"

"Quiet, let’s be quiet... let me talk to this child," Jia Yi’s voice was pleading as he raised his hand trying to calm everyone down, but all he got in return was a shower of spittle.

No one cared to listen to him.

After all, the Rat Clan was nothing more than a bunch of despicable creatures.

Although they looked human, their hearts were like rats from the gutters, and the people here despised them deep down.

Just as the Wolf Tribe produced the bravest, most valiant warriors, these people mainly produced prostitutes, pickpockets, thieves, and swindlers.

This group of scoundrels, barely a notch above the Moon Clan, who had been stripped of all their property, power, and even their personal freedom.

The people here had no doubt, the next race to be reduced to slavery would definitely be these detestable rats.

Allowing these inferior beings to live in the glory days of the Empire was simply a disgrace!

Without them, everything would be better!

As he bathed in the curses of the crowd, Ah Xin looked expressionlessly at the indignant faces and suddenly felt a bit like laughing.

His status was indeed lowly.

But what about these people? They weren’t much better.

Even noble as the Wolves, living in this forsaken place was nothing more than a scavenging dog. Even the meek as sheep could give birth to ruthless criminals and bandits.

It was his father, despised by everyone on the street, who had lived an honest and diligent life, never offending anyone, and taught him and his siblings to be good, honest people, so that they would reincarnate as superior beings in their next life.

In all honesty, he had lived an honest life for the past seventeen years and had even planned to endure through this lifetime.

Until yesterday, when these people treated him like a sewer rat, pushed him out of the crowd, only to test what exactly the "Iron Man" was and their attitude towards them...

At that moment, standing alone on the street, he suddenly despised his pathetic self, as well as the people who had made him pathetic for seventeen years.

So much so that when those people handed him the gun, he had wished to drag out those who had pushed him out and execute them on the spot.

But he hadn’t done so.

Not because of mercy.

But because he was well aware of who had given him the gun—or rather, the power of life and death.

Since the master had put the gun in his hands, he could just as easily take it away.

To retain this power, he had to do everything to ingratiate himself with them.

When it was time to kill, he wouldn’t be soft-hearted.

But now.

He had to handle this beautifully, achieving his goal with minimal cost—before he used up the twelve bullets in the revolver.

Holding the cold metal in his pocket, he tried to overcome the fear in his heart and the instincts that had been carved into his humanity over the past seventeen years.

Then, like an obedient child, he nodded his head for the third and final time.

"Yes, I did take the money, and it was a huge sum, an amount you poor souls couldn’t imagine in your lifetimes."

The surroundings instantly quieted down.

He could feel that the eyes looking at him, beyond simple anger, also carried a hint of greed and longing.

Like hyenas spotting a hare.

They only hated that it wasn’t themselves who had taken the gun from the Alliance’s hands, they wished they could grab all the money in his pocket.

Without pause, Ah Xin, mustering all his strength to remain calm, spoke the words he had thought out all night.

"A total of 40,000. I not only bought myself a new set of clothes, clothes worthy of the name, but also bought sets for my brothers, my sisters, and my parents. Afterwards, we still plan to buy three pigs, and some other things to supplement the household, to make everyone’s lives more comfortable."

A slightly stockier man stepped forward, his eyes locked tightly on him.

"Why did they give you the money? Those Iron Men."

Ah Xin recognized this guy.

His name was Vikram, a member of the Wolf Tribe, purportedly a former soldier, but whether he truly was only he knew.

He only knew that this guy was a well-known bully on the street, often bullying his brothers and his honest father.

Ah Xin was acutely aware that the man had refrained from robbing him not because he feared Ah Xin, but because he feared the "Iron Men" supposedly backing him.

Thus...

He couldn’t afford to lose the support of those adults.

"I sold my house to them," Ah Xin said emotionlessly, imagining a group of Iron Men standing behind him, and continued slowly, "Now the house is theirs. Whether they blow it up or use it as a target and shoot it down, it’s up to them."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, including Vikram standing in front of him, as faces everywhere showed surprise and shock.

"You can’t do this!"

"That’s not just your house! It’s also the house on this street!"

"That’s right!"

At least—

This large sum should have parts belonging to me!

Vikram narrowed his eyes, his tone tainted with a hint of threat.

"Kid, I live right down your street! If artillery hits here—"

"Then go and negotiate with them! With those Iron Men!" Watching the incessant murmuring of the crowd, Ah Xin suddenly exploded, a shout interrupting everyone’s speech.

No one expected this ordinarily meek and low-profile young man to lash out with such fury, and the surroundings fell silent in an instant.

Even the notorious bully of this street—Vikram—stared at him dumbfounded, as if looking at a freak who had taken the wrong medication.

Nevertheless, Vikram did nothing more than look.

Ah Xin knew that this guy would not dare to touch him.

He was now utterly calm and utterly sober.

He knew that the more reckless he appeared, the more these people would think that he must have a strong backer, the more wary they would be of what had given him the audacity.

Moreover, they weren’t wrong.

He indeed had that thing.

And it was right in his hand!

Surveying the astonished faces around him, Ah Xin continued without diminishing his momentum.

"...Go on, band together, negotiate with those Iron Men, make them fight the Empire somewhere else! Or send another cowardly fellow to negotiate with the Emperor, and have him hand over the harbor and Governor’s Mansion to the Iron Men!"

Watching those speechless fellows, he smiled coldly.

"...You don’t dare to do it. You only dare to bully someone who seems easy to push around, someone you’re very familiar with but not too familiar with, someone who would labor and take abuse without fighting back, someone like me standing here."

"Is it me driving you away from here? Then come, kill me, and watch as your house goes ’boom’ and then ’snap’ turns into rubble! The Empire’s soldiers will use it as cover, those Iron Men from the Governor’s Mansion will use it for target practice. After they’re done and gone, all you’ll have left is a pile of sand and dirt! Come on, have you no hands?"

No one made a move.

There wasn’t even someone speaking.

Ah Xin breathed faintly.

He had never spoken this much in his life, especially not in front of so many people.

But here he stood, like a rat cornered by a feral cat.

All he could do was bluff.

If he showed fear, these people might truly kill him.

Clamping down on his trembling shoulders, Ah Xin struggled to recall the words he had prepared the night before, continuing word by word.

"It’s me, whom you destitute scoundrels looked down upon, an even poorer wretch, who has now negotiated a reasonable price for you, turning your worthless shacks into at least four fat pigs that you would never have touched in your lifetimes!"

"Forty thousand, forty thousand West Winds coins! If you’re willing to demolish it yourself, they’ll give you twenty thousand more—this is the benefit I’ve secured for you! It was me!"

He roared until his voice was hoarse and people around, upon hearing it, fizzed like hot oil in a pan.

40000!

If he dismantled his house, he’d pay an additional 20000!

As for those dilapidated clay houses, forget 40000 Xilan coins, nobody would even buy them for 20000! And even if they were worth that much, no one would buy them.

Many people were already tempted.

As that young man named Ah Xin had said, this amount of money was astronomical for most people living here.

With this money, they could not only build a more spacious little house in the countryside but also buy three or four fat pigs.

And with pigs, they would be considered property-owning farmers, which was far better than squeezing in these slums and picking up inconsistent odd jobs.

Seeing that people were tempted, Vikram panicked.

He usually made a living through protection fees, extortion, and petty theft, all of which were divided into territories.

If he lost this block, he’d be like a stray dog without a home, forced to vie for food on other dogs’ turf.

He would be viciously mauled by those wilder dogs!

He had no objection to selling his shabby home for a good price.

But it had to be enough money to ensure he could live the rest of his life worry-free!

He wanted to become a true member of the Wolf clan and not be mixed up with these poor bastards like a stray dog!

"Wait, why only 40000—" Vikram stepped forward, his expression ferocious, yet fearful inside.

If he took a few people to negotiate with the Iron Men, perhaps he could ask for more—

However, before he could speak, a sudden gunshot cut him off.

With a bullet hole on his forehead, Vikram, wide-eyed with shock, looked at the young man whose arm was still shaking. Moments later, he collapsed heavily to the ground, blood and brain matter scattering everywhere.

He didn’t know.

Someone had been aiming at his head for a long time.

Hearing the gunshot, the crowd burst into chaos, much like monkeys splashed with scalding oil, but instead of moving forward, they recoiled in fear.

Jia Yi, unable to believe what he was seeing, stared at the Rat clan young man who had pulled out the gun as if witnessing something utterly blasphemous, his voice trembling.

"You killed a man..."

"Yes, may I be born a beast in my next life."

Struggling to hide the tremor in his index finger and arm, Ah Xin slipped the gun back into his pocket and coldly dropped that line before looking around at the others.

"What about you? Are you taking the money and scramming from here, or do you want to end up like him?"

As he had anticipated.

No one cared about the body.

People died here every now and then, whether from starvation or disease, and nobody really cared.

Even if the Governor’s Mansion was just nearby.

They were more concerned about the gun in his hand, the weapon granted by the Iron Men, symbolizing authority, even though it now only contained 11 bullets.

Besides that—

They cared about themselves.

Or rather, the money.

As for Vikram.

That guy was already dead.

He wasn’t much liked when he was alive, let alone after he lay on the ground, the Wild burial mound was his final resting place.

The man standing behind Vikram swallowed hard, suppressing the panic on his face, and called out to the young man standing amongst the crowd.

"Can you guarantee us the money?"

Arno replied without hesitation.

"I promise."

The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded and stepped forward.

Arno stared at him intently, his heart fluttering, but it didn’t show on his numb face, bloodied from the encounter.

One step.

Two steps...

When he was three meters away, the man suddenly stopped walking and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for everything you’ve done for us all."

He cleared his throat and continued.

"Just like you said... this place will soon be ruins, and whether we take the money or not, nothing will change."

The surroundings quieted for several seconds.

People seemed surprised by his agreement.

But soon, sporadic voices began to rise.

"Really..."

"The price is already good enough."

"The Emperor wouldn’t give this to us."

"My house has been leaking for a while, and I was planning to rebuild it anyway."

With someone leading the way, everything became much easier.

Although those insincere words were tinged with hesitation and doubt, the meaning they conveyed was no surprise; they were mostly affirmations and praises for Arno.

Watching the compliant crowd, Arno relaxed a little but did not thank the man, just looked at him indifferently.

"Your name."

The man replied with respectful tone.

"Kunal... Dog Tribe Person."

Arno nodded.

"From now on, you work for me."

The man’s face lit up with joy.

Just then, as if from nowhere, clouds filled the sky and fine raindrops began to fall, one by one landing on the blood-stained mud.

Noticing it was raining, people rushed like dogs hearing the dinner bell, scrambling toward the clothes and sheets hanging on the ropes to dry, grabbing them into their arms, fearful they’d get wet or that someone else might steal them in the chaos.

But Arno just squatted down, picked up a shell casing from the ground, and with a trembling thumb, vigorously wiped away the mud and water clinging to it.

"Go bury him," he managed to say without a hint of cowardice.

Standing in the rain, Kunal bowed respectfully, like a loyal servant.

"Yes!"

It wasn’t just Kunal.

Several other men also grabbed Vikram’s limbs as he lay on the ground and carried him to the outskirts of the square.

From this moment on, they were all his underlings.

No need to say it explicitly.

Ah Xin, squatting in the rain, had not stood up, but was quietly staring at the patch of blood not yet washed away by the rain, his eyes looking transfixed.

This was the first time he had killed someone.

He discovered that as long as he didn’t see people as humans, but as beasts, it was much easier than he had imagined.

Although his arms were now sore and numb, his palms throbbing in pain, and his legs too weak to stand...

"Damn, it’s raining."

"Let’s find a place to take shelter quickly."

Near Lowell Camp, close to Blackwater Street’s civilian slums.

Four players patrolling the alley suddenly noticed the rain falling from the sky, which seemed to worsen, so they moved under the eaves of a nearby house.

Unfortunately, the eaves were too narrow, and the wind outside forced the rain onto their armor regardless of how close they pressed against the wall.

The "Type Five" exoskeleton performance against water was decent, but water getting into the gaps of the bulletproof plates was troublesome, and some moving parts also needed re-oiling and maintenance.

The more complex the machine, the pickier it is about the working environment, the only truly durable ones were probably those produced by Goblin Technology’s LD-47.

Perhaps...

They should hire some NPCs to do the job.

Mountain River Entering Dreams thought to himself, but then he saw through the semi-open window a few pairs of shiny eyes staring at them.

He looked towards Zero Rush, the Perception specialist, who shook his head.

"No intent to kill."

Mountain River Entering Dreams walked up to the door and knocked.

The door opened quickly, a wrinkled face peeking through the gap, the eyes filled with apprehension.

"Sir?"

"We’re just taking shelter from the rain."

After saying this, Mountain River Entering Dreams pulled out a 100 West Winds currency bill, handing it to the incredulous old man.

"Thank... thank you," the old man gratefully stammered, stepping back to open the door wider.

The room was dimly lit, but visibility was adequate.

In a room less than ten square meters, a table was placed, on which pots and pans were set, and those shiny eyes were hidden behind the table.

They were children around eleven or twelve years old, their skin waxen and faces dirty, both boys and girls, each wearing a patchy linen sheet, seemingly torn from a whole curtain or bedsheet.

Looking at the shiny exoskeletons and rifles hanging on their chests, the children’s faces showed both timidity and curiosity.

They had never seen these armored "Iron Men" before and found them seemingly even more impressive than the soldiers carrying rifles.

Two slightly older girls, faces filled with fear and anxiety, quietly climbed up the ladder to the upper floor at their mother’s urging.

Mountain River Entering Dreams’s eyes carried a hint of pity, but he said nothing, just stood with his three teammates at the door under the shelter, trying their best not to disturb these people’s lives.

The two parties silently faced each other, only the pattering rain outside breaking the silence.

After a while, perhaps feeling these "Iron Men" were not so frightening after all, and unable to see their eyes through the visors, the adults and children in the room gradually stopped concerning themselves with their presence.

Except for the three women who had gone upstairs, the others gathered around the table, using their hands to shape handfuls of brown-red mud from an iron basin into cakes on the table.

The old man mutteringly chanted something, his muddy hands grabbing some crushed wild vegetable leaves, pepper powder, and cardamom powder from a basket nearby and sprinkling them on the mud cakes.

The players at the door exchanged looks, involuntarily swallowing their saliva while quietly communicating via their comms channel.

"Is this... soil?"

"Most likely."

"My goodness..."

"Seeing this, nutrient paste actually tastes better."

"But they even have spices."

Mountain River Entering Dreams didn’t speak.

He remembered seeing on Si Si’s post that to the north of Jin Galun Harbor lay a vast expanse of red soil.

This red soil was completely different in both color and composition from the "Guanyin Soil" they usually understood. It seemed to be artificially improved; although nothing could be grown on it, boiling it to filter out sand and stones, and then draining it, made it directly edible.

The local poor would mix in some plant fibers and spices to make it less difficult to swallow.

Of course, although eating this artificially improved mud wasn’t as dangerous as eating kaolin, it was impossible to eat it seven days a week.

The majority at the bottom of Jin Galun Harbor mainly ate black beans and a type of chickpea-like legume but larger, supplemented by various berries and wild vegetables. As for the main source of protein, it was primarily some insects and freshwater snails.

As for "mud cakes," they were just a supplement when funds were low.

Nevertheless, located at the junction of tropical and subtropical regions and on the Shock Plain along the Everflow River, the food sources in this area were relatively abundant.

It was precisely because of this that the settlement could accommodate so many people—far exceeding the carrying capability of the land.

However, the survivors living here were merely surviving and had even less dignity than the cattle in the pens.

At least only foreigners could eat them.

After a while, the man finished his seasoning ritual, and the mud cakes on the table turned into a semi-dry state.

He picked up some cakes, put them into palm-sized bowls, and handed them to an older child nearby, whispering instructions to take them upstairs to their mother and sisters.

Then he rubbed his hands together and waved to his family members, who were already salivating, to start eating.

Standing at the door, Zero Rush couldn’t watch anymore. He took out compressed biscuits stuffed in his backpack, ignored the team captain’s obstructive look, and went forward. Amid the startled gazes of the family, he handed it to the child closest to him and said in a low voice in United Human language,

"Eat this."

He knew very well that doing this was meaningless, just like stuffing gold coins into the home of destitute NPCs—it wouldn’t change anything.

But he did it anyway.

There was no special reason; isn’t playing the game all about following one’s impulses?

Mountain River Entering Dreams shook his head but said nothing. Beside him, Two Ounces of Moonlight quietly gave a thumbs-up.

The little girl, tall up to his exoskeleton’s breastplate, widened her big, limpid eyes. She peered at him through her disheveled hair, then looked at her father, and seeing no objection from him, she bit into the plastic packaging.

Seeing her mouth hurt by the serrated plastic, Zero Rush quickly gestured with his hands,

"You need to tear it open, like this."

The little girl hesitated for a moment, clumsily imitated his movements and tore the plastic packaging, and hesitantly bit into it again.

In an instant, her eyes widened, those limpid eyes shimmering as if a layer of color had been painted on them, creating a misty glow.

It was a taste she had never experienced before.

She stuffed the food into her mouth ravenously, and Zero Rush looked around left and right, didn’t see any container for water, bit his lip, took out a bottled water from his backpack, unscrewed it, and handed it over,

"Don’t choke."

The little girl indeed choked, coughed vigorously for a while, took the water bottle, and drank most of it before she calmed down.

Having removed his helmet’s face mask, Zero Rush squatted down, smiled, reached out to touch her messy hair, and asked gently,

"What’s your name?"

"Arno."

Why does this name sound like a boy’s?

Never mind.

Zero Rush didn’t care and continued with a smile.

"I’m Zero Rush. If you see bad guys wielding those long-sticked guns, you come to us."

As he spoke, he pointed in the direction of Lowell Camp, which served as the station for their company of a hundred people, and also for those rebels.

Arno, his mouth full of crumbled cookies, nodded vigorously, licking his fingers without no particular intention.

The other children around stared this way, swallowing their saliva, losing interest in their sticky muddy pies in an instant.

Thinking that since he had already given some away, one more didn’t matter, Zero Rush simply pulled out the last few compressed cookies from his backpack and distributed them to everyone present, including their father—the old man with a wrinkled face.

Watching the children wolfing down the cookies, Zero Rush felt a wave of satisfaction and wore a content smile on his face.

A few compressed cookies didn’t cost much, especially since these were unwanted by anyone and were only carried as emergency supplies just in case.

The slightly older boy took his brother upstairs, seemingly planning to share the "Iron Man’s" delicacies with their sister and mother.

The old man stared at the cookie in his hand in silence, his face full of worry, seeming to be contemplating something.

Finally, as if he had made up his mind, he looked at Zero Rush with pleading eyes.

"Arno is too young... please, choose someone else."

Zero Rush’s smile instantly froze on his face.

"What?!"

Two Ounces of Moonlight couldn’t help but laugh out loud, leaning on the mud wall nearby with his hand on his stomach. Mountain River Entering Dreams had a face full of black lines looking at that guy, feeling embarrassed, and turned his gaze away.

Firstborn, who had been silent all this time, suddenly seemed to come to his senses, shrugged his shoulders and said,

"In Poluo Province, only elders and husbands can touch a woman’s head, and if she is an unmarried woman, touching the head signifies a proposal... I just looked it up in Old Si’s post when I went offline."

"What the fuck!?"

Mountain River Entering Dreams sighed.

"Drag him out and shoot him."

Even Two Ounces of Moonlight, who had just shown a thumbs-up a second ago, also nodded deeply in agreement.

"+1, that’s too rookie."

Firstborn: "...?"

"Wait, I fucking didn’t know! It doesn’t count!"

Scrambling to his feet from the ground, Zero Rush tried to explain with a mix of tears and laughter, but his three teammates looked at him with disdain.

The girl named Arno kept licking her fingers, indifferent to the noises around and not understanding why her father sighed.

Her round eyes were fixed intently on the backpack filled with delicacies, thinking only about one thing.

If only she could have another piece.

Unnoticed, the rain outside the house had stopped.

Just as Mountain River Entering Dreams was considering leaving with his three teammates as soon as possible, a gunshot from outside the window suddenly shattered the post-rain tranquility.

That was the sound of a Ripper Rifle!

The four instantly became alert.

Without saying goodbye to the family, Mountain River Entering Dreams pushed open the door and rushed out onto the street, followed quickly by his three heavily armed teammates.

Enhanced by their exoskeletons, their movements were as fast as lightning. In just the span of a breath, they moved into formation towards the direction of the gunshot, setting up their rifles behind cover.

However, to their surprise, the group holding guns on the opposite street was not their enemy.

But their own people...

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