This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 88: Negotiating with a Tiger for Its Skin (Seeking Subscriptions)

Chapter 88: Chapter 88: Negotiating with a Tiger for Its Skin (Seeking Subscriptions)

The snow had begun to fall ceaselessly.

The northern wind howled, and the forest rustled with its passage. The woods outside the Outpost Base were pitch-dark; behind every tree seemed to lurk a figure, and each blade of grass appeared to be breathing.

The guards on the wall were all on edge, afraid they’d become another casualty of the plot, just like the fisherman whose nest was disrupted.

The official website OB was torturous.

It wasn’t just the players on duty who were tense—Chu Guang was as well.

He had already dealt with two groups from the Blood Hand Clan. Logically, the enemy wouldn’t just let him be; even if it meant suffering heavy injuries, they would need to reclaim their standing.

However, there was no movement from the Looters to the north, and that left Chu Guang feeling unsettled. Wearing his exoskeleton, he sat upstairs for half the night until well after one in the morning, not getting out of bed until eight or nine the next day.

The players, on the other hand, were all brimming with energy, taking shifts to log in. Despite the heavy snowfall, they seemed oblivious and went about their work without any hindrance.

How enviable.

After all, the body wasn’t theirs, and with heightened pain thresholds turned off, they couldn’t feel even if their hands and feet were frozen numb. A bit of meat and carbs, few hours in the cultivation chamber, and they’d be good as new.

Of course, this was just the start of winter; the coldest days were yet to come.

Don’t talk about minus ten degrees not being cold—try experiencing a magical attack in the south. No need for sub-zero temperatures, just a gust of wind could cost one half a life.

"Should add a heating tube to this exoskeleton."

"Forget it, let’s wait till they’ve made the armor lining."

Watching carts of bricks being transported from the warehouse to the industrial zone, Chu Guang’s face broke into a satisfied smile as he nodded approvingly.

Not bad.

These players were very understanding.

Equipped with a budget from Brother Ciso and Brother Levin, they got tough with spending. The very next day they logged on, they immediately used Chu Guang’s budget to buy 5,000 bricks and 500 kilograms of cement from the warehouse, and in front of envious players, they hauled it off to the industrial zone.

Since the silver coins used were from the corporate account, all it took was a ledger entry to handle the transaction. Old Luka could now smoothly handle this process, without Chu Guang needing to worry at all.

As for the sand needed for plastering, there wasn’t much stockpiled in the warehouse since it was nearly used up during the wall construction.

But that was no issue; spend a few silver coins to rent a cart and hire two men to haul from the abandoned construction site to the direct north. 1 Silver Coin per cart, calculating five carts to a cubic meter, hauling about nine carts should suffice for the time being.

After all, it was just a little over 2 kilometers round trip on flat ground, easy to walk, and there were plenty of people eager for the job.

Piles and piles of sand and gravel were there, intended for constructing hundred-meter skyscrapers. Although it was unclear what type they were, it was assumed that pre-war materials were of good quality.

Even though part of this sand had been washed into the foundations by rain, the portion buried just on the surface was more than enough for many years to come.

Building an 18 cm thick wall required 96 bricks per square meter, 10 kilograms of cement, and over 50 kilograms of sand and gravel.

To fully enclose a 20X10 steel mill would need around thirty to forty thousand bricks and about four to five tons of cement—amounts the warehouse couldn’t provide even if emptied.

But it didn’t matter.

On the Wasteland, there was no need to be so particular—if need be, they could crudely plaster the northern wall first, then scavenge some old metal and plastic sheds to build a semi-open "T"-shaped factory. That would save more than half the materials.

The Wasteland, after all, should have the vibe of a wasteland. Chu Guang’s old shack on Bet Street hadn’t used a kilo of cement, yet it was still fit for living.

That’s called post-apocalyptic style.

At least the two factory leaders, Brother Ciso and Brother Levin, didn’t care.

The pressing issue was to get the steel-melting converter built, then melt and cast old metal into two rolling mills, and finally forge an impressive set of armor for the mighty Manager!

That was their foremost task at the moment.

Besides hiring two men to transport sand, they also employed three players experienced in construction work to assist with the wall and lay the foundation for the converter.

Everything was proceeding orderly.

However, compared to the smooth going of the "81" steel factory, progress for the Bull Horse Brick Factory was less smooth.

Old White, Fang Chang, and the others arrived at the warehouse a step too late, and instantly their hearts sank.

Damn it, where had all the building materials gone?

There had been such a tall pile yesterday—how could it all be sold out upon login?!

"Damn!"

"How could they move so fast?!"

"Tsk, miscalculation."

"Bossman is a professional... forget it, brothers, don’t panic. Let’s survey the terrain and find a solution."

After selecting from the warehouse, they bought a wooden cart, shovels, axes, and machetes for clearing land, then set out into the heavy snow with four people’s worth of provisions.

It wasn’t that they wanted to save money for the shelter.

It was simply that they had money but nowhere to spend it...

Incidentally, since the corporate account could only be used in the warehouse, it was also not possible to use it to buy guns at the weapon shop.

To verify this, Fang Chang even made a special trip to try, but the owner of the weapon shop was too lazy to entertain him, so he could only give up reluctantly.

Outside the Outpost Base, the snow was heavy, and the northern wind blew fiercely.

Night Ten gritted his teeth as he held his pipe rifle, momentarily freeing an arm to wipe the snow from his bangs and eyebrows, and complained in a low voice.

"This wind is way too damn strong for the end of September, isn’t it?"

Old White was actually pretty optimistic, chuckling as he said,

"I guess it’s to test whether the weather system is stable, huh? Whether it snows or not in the Game World is just a matter of the planners’ say-so. I wouldn’t even be surprised if it snowed in summer."

Fang Chang glanced at the only Perception Type in their team and gave a reminder,

"You guys better stay alert. We’re currently at war with the Blood Hand Clan. Although this river is in Wetland Park, it’s not far from the north gate. If the Looters launch a sneak attack, we’re likely to be the first to confront the enemy."

Night Ten smirked,

"Scared of what? In the forest, this is our home turf! Let the Looters come, I’ll go up and—hisss, something’s not right, there seems to be someone ahead."

"Holy shit! For real?!"

Although Night Ten wasn’t the most reliable person, his Perception was currently the highest among all the players.

Alerted by Night Ten, the other three players didn’t dare to hesitate; they hurriedly dropped the handcart and grabbed their weapons to scatter and take cover nearby.

This wasn’t their first time hunting as a team.

Nor was it their first time facing Looters.

Night Ten leaned against a tree, and his usually playful and smiling expression was gone, replaced by seriousness and vigilance.

He carefully peeked out, scanning the snowy forest in a circle; his gaze suddenly locked onto a certain spot.

Signaling a rough direction with his hand, Night Ten gave the other three teammates an affirmative look.

"Flank around."

"Got it."

Old White, on the outer edge, moved first, and the four of them advanced in turn with tacit understanding, spreading out in a quadrilateral to surround the target.

Ten meters.

Fifteen meters.

Twenty meters!

Finally, in the midst of the swirling snow, a sneaky figure emerged.

The person was dressed in a gray coat, with a thick felt hat on his head and an iron pipe rifle on his back. While pressing down his hat brim that the wind kept blowing, he was heading toward the direction of Outpost Base.

He definitely wasn’t up to any good!

Fang Chang immediately made a judgment. Taking advantage of the fact that they hadn’t been discovered yet, he quickly drew his bow, placed an arrow, aimed at the person’s right arm, and released the string with a snap.

A sound of an arrow piercing the air whistled through.

The person didn’t have time to react before he was struck by an arrow in the thigh, letting out a pained scream and collapsing to the ground.

"Don’t move if you don’t want to die!"

Old White rushed forward first, kicked away the gun in the man’s hand, and menacingly pointed the spear at his head.

The man looked terrified, babbling something unintelligibly.

Fang Chang suggested,

"We need to spare someone to take him back."

"I’ll do it."

Wild Wind lifted his Crossbow a bit.

Even though he was an Intelligence Type, a crossbow didn’t require much attribute enhancement.

The other three had full confidence in Wild Wind’s meticulousness and had no objections.

Old White returned to the side of the handcart, found some rope to tie up the man, and poked his back with a spear as a threat.

"If you even think about running away, we’ll take off your other leg!"

After that, without a care if the man understood or not, Old White handed him over to Wild Wind and watched as Wild Wind escorted the limping prisoner away in the direction of Outpost Base.

...

After watching the Bull Horse Squad leave Outpost Base, Chu Guang saw it was getting late and went to the warehouse to chop off a crab leg, then found a room in the former sanatorium to bake and eat it.

With the heavy snowfall, food was not so easy to rot, and this crab leg would last two or three days without problems.

This thing was high-quality protein, essential for muscle building.

Chu Guang spent his days with nothing much to do, either walking around with his exoskeleton powered off or doing push-ups and bench presses with the Nitrogen-Powered Hammer to build arm strength.

After each workout, he would head to the bathroom for a shower, dry his clothes, and prepare his own food by mealtime. His life was much more comfortable than when he was back on Bet Street.

Although the training results weren’t very obvious and the Attribute Panel showed no changes due to the exercise, he could still clearly feel that his strength and muscle coordination had slightly improved.

Chu Guang speculated that the body scan and summary data from the health check equipment mainly measured the body’s "basic hardware," and that exercising might provide efficiency boosts to the hardware in the form of BUFFs.

For example, "Strength +3%" or "Strength +5%" or something like that.

The higher the base value of the attributes, the more noticeable the effects of exercising would be.

For players with Strength Type Gene Sequences, exercising could also accumulate progress in gene sequence development, pushing beyond the limits of hardware.

At the moment, Chu Guang’s Strength Attribute was 10, roughly a 200% of a normal adult male’s baseline (benchmark value of 5).

Even without any skill, and only partial muscle coordination, he could easily overpower an opponent of the same weight class with his attributes alone.

If he encountered a Crawler again, even without an exoskeleton or Nitrogen-Powered Hammer, Chu Guang didn’t say it would be an easy win, but at least he wouldn’t be as embarrassingly disheveled as before.

However,

this supposition was unlikely to stand.

After all, it’s not like he travelled outside; even within Outpost Base, whether he had work or not, he habitually wore his exoskeleton beneath his deerskin coat.

He just usually kept it turned off, considering it part of his weight-bearing training.

Five pounds of crab legs contained two and a half pounds of shell, but the remaining two and a half pounds of crabmeat were pretty solid. After finishing his meal, Chu Guang clapped his hands and extinguished the fire.

Right at that moment, a player, escorting a local in a large coat, walked in from the outside.

He brought the captive into the main building of the medical center and Wild Wind stood at attention with a serious face, reporting to the Manager.

"Respected Manager... we’ve caught a Looter scout!"

"A captive?"

Chu Guang wiped his mouth and squinted at the man in front of him.

The man was covered in snow, mud, and withered leaves, with a broken arrow lodged in his thigh. The dark red blood had stained half of his trousers, leaving him in quite a sorry state.

He gritted his teeth and said,

"Is this how you treat your guests?"

"Courtesy is reserved for guests."

Chu Guang didn’t think he looked like a Looter, but he did not seem like a local Scavenger either, and so he continued with an interrogative tone,

"Who are you? Why have you entered our territory? Each entrance to Wetland Park has a sign clearly stating that entry is forbidden to unrelated individuals. Even if you can’t read, surely you can recognize the skull symbol."

"I’m here to mediate!"

"Mediate?" Chu Guang narrowed his eyes, his tone turning unfriendly, "Are you from the Blood Hand Clan?"

"No! I don’t belong to anyone!"

Sensing the hostility in Chu Guang’s voice, the man quickly clarified his position, but the pain from his wound was so excruciating that his emotions flared, and he winced in pain.

After what felt like an eternity, he managed to regain his composure and pushed out a breathy response through clenched teeth.

"... Can you treat my wound first? If we wait any longer, I might be a goner."

Goner, huh?

Seeing how calm you are, I thought the injury wasn’t serious.

Chu Guang chuckled at the turn of events but didn’t trouble him further.

He tossed five silver coins into Wild Wind’s hand, sending the little player away, and then pulled out a roll of bandage from a Blind Box from his pocket and tossed it to the man.

He had never tested the hemostatic effect of this thing.

Might as well use him for an experiment.

The man clearly knew how to use the bandage and efficiently unwrapped it, snapped off the shaft of the arrow, and used the tools within the package to dig out the arrowhead painfully.

Blood gushed out like a faucet, soaking his trouser leg.

Chu Guang averted his gaze, clicking his tongue at the sight, but the man seemed unaffected, sighing in relief after tightly bandaging the wound.

"Feeling any better?"

"Yes, better," the man nodded, took a deep breath, and continued the prior conversation, "My name is Hain, a merchant from Red River Town."

"Why would a merchant from Red River Town be mingling with Looters?" Chu Guang studied him with interest and went on, "Besides, isn’t Red River Town at least fifty or sixty kilometers from here?"

"Fifty or sixty kilometers? Ha, that’s the straight-line distance. To circumvent the urban cluster, it’s a journey of at least one hundred thirty kilometers! Of course, to be safer and avoid the highway bridges... it’s about one hundred fifty kilometers or so."

"So what?" Chu Guang tilted his head, encouraging him to continue, "You haven’t answered my question. Why would you be mingling with Looters?"

"Cough, it’s not exactly mingling, it’s just... we have some business dealings."

Hain shifted his gaze uneasily and after a moment of awkwardness resumed,

"Alright, let me be frank. I’m an employee... or rather, a merchant from the Horseshoe Iron Trading Company in Red River Town. Due to my boss’s connections, we sometimes do business with some trustworthy Looter Tribes in the Southern River Valley Province, mainly concerning people. Don’t look at me like that—if it weren’t for us, those captives wouldn’t survive winter. At least we give them a chance to start over!"

"So you’re in the slave trade?" Chu Guang rubbed his chin with apparent curiosity but kept his face expressionless.

"That’s right!" Hain nodded before adding, "This time, I was sent by my boss to Qingquan City to buy some slaves from them. But by the time I arrived, I heard you guys were at war?"

Chu Guang smiled amicably, saying,

"Yes, and your trading partners’ enemies are currently considering something. Suppose your boss doesn’t know you came here—"

Hain swallowed nervously, cutting off Chu Guang’s sentence,

"I know what you’re going to say, but it’s pointless. People die on the Wasteland every day; my death would be of little concern to my boss."

"Is that so?"

"Instead of deciding how to deal with me, wouldn’t you rather hear my proposal first?"

"Go ahead."

Hain rattled off his pitch quickly.

"The Blood Hand Clan wants to cease-fire with you. They’re willing to pay twenty chips in ransom for each captive... of course, for the ones missing limbs, they’re only willing to pay half."

"Oh, and where’s their contract?"

"My contract? What contract—"

"Cut it out," said Chu Guang, visibly impatient with Hain’s feigned ignorance. "Do you think you can fool me? You just said people are dying every day in the Wasteland. Would anyone risk their life for nothing in return? Or could it be that the cease-fire actually benefits you?"

Hain offered a sheepish smile in response.

"I didn’t mean to hide anything... It’s just that there’s really no formal contract between me and them. Alright, I’ll tell the truth. Their leader promised me that if I could bring their people back, they would ’deal’ with their wounded for me at a low cost. But this is beneficial for you as well, isn’t it?"

"No one wants to fight in a snowstorm, and your neighbors are as troubled by this damn weather as anyone. It would be better for all of us to sit down and have a proper talk. There’s no irreconcilable conflict here, and I’m sure we can resolve any misunderstandings."

"I’ll return with the captives as proof of my work, you’ll receive war reparations, and you’ll make peace with your neighbors... It’s a win-win-win situation for all parties!"

Chu Guang couldn’t help but smile.

However, the arc of his lips was cold.

Misunderstandings?

Resolution?

Ha, ha, ha.

He had never heard such a laughable joke.

If it weren’t for meeting him and coincidentally these players, had it been any other Survivor Base, not to speak of what would have happened to the men and women, they’d have been stripped clean to the bone long ago.

Peace talks?

These people were just biding their time.

Waiting for an opportunity like the end of the snowstorm.

"Mr. Hain, you seem to be joking with me. A reconciliation with the Looters? Do you actually believe what you’re saying?"

Hain looked somewhat embarrassed.

Actually, before entering Outpost Base, he had a premonition that these people were different from any other Survivor Base he had visited.

Enclosing walls, trenches, duty sentries, hunting guards...

Not one of them was a professional soldier, but each seemed capable of holding their own in a fight, and more importantly, they had the guts to fight.

They wore Blue Jackets, but they harbored no illusions about the kindness of this world.

These negotiations were likely doomed...

"I get it, you have your reasons. If there’s no room for discussion, I won’t insist... Can I leave? I promise to keep what I’ve seen here a secret." Within a second, Hain made a decision to cut his losses.

However, Chu Guang didn’t say a word, just stared unblinkingly into his eyes, keeping his gaze steady for a long while.

Feeling like prey under a Crawler’s gaze, Hain began to sweat through his back, feeling unbearable pressure until his lips quivered and he spoke.

"Even if you killed me, it would bring you no benefit... Why bother? I have no grudges with you, sir. You can continue your fight, and I promise not to interfere anymore."

"But it would also cause us no harm."

There was a moment when Hain felt as though his heart had stopped.

Yet, the next words out of Chu Guang’s mouth reignited his hope for life.

"You said... you deal in slaves?"

"Yes, yes!" Grasping at what seemed like a lifeline, Hain nodded frantically. "You need slaves? I can serve you! We do more than import slaves; we handle exports too, and we even offer home delivery—if you’re interested—"

"Come with me."

Watching the man walk out, Hain was forced to hold his tongue. He swallowed hard and followed with heavy, dragging feet.

Outside, the snow fell harder, cutting against the face like knives, particularly stinging on wounds. Hain felt as if his blood were freezing.

Thankfully, it wasn’t far.

The man led him to a shabby hut, exchanged a few words with the old man on duty at the door, and then watched as the old man nodded, went inside, and brought out a wooden box.

Chu Guang weighed the box in his hands before passing it to Hain.

Taking the box, Hain’s hands sank under the weight, and he looked puzzled at the man who handed it to him.

"...What’s this?"

"Open it and see."

A bad premonition settled in his heart, but Hain still freed up one hand to open it.

When he saw the jewelry made of finger bones inside the box, his blood seemed to freeze, draining the color from his face.

Familiar with the handiwork of Looters, he recognized these items.

The Looters would take their prey’s index fingers as trophies, dry and clean them to make into jewelry to wear, treasuring them like dear life.

This blue-coated devil!

Not a single one was spared...

"Winter is coming, and I don’t have that many cells here. The captives you want will have to be picked from here."

Watching the soul-shocked Hain, Chu Guang smiled carelessly.

"Let’s make a deal."

"I assure you, you’ll get a large batch of captives—very large. You can show off big time in front of your boss, and rocket to the pinnacle of your career. If you’re lucky, you might even say goodbye to a life with your head on your belt."

"And me? I’d be rid of the trouble from the north once and for all."