This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 582.1: This Is Necessary Sacrifice
When the Viper dropship returned again, it was already 2:00 in the morning.
Alongside the flight, arriving with Gale, Peepo, and their group of 12, was also an active researcher of the Scientific Expedition Team, Chen Yutong.
Seeing Chen Yutong jump down from the cabin, Old White’s face showed a flicker of surprise. He stepped forward and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Didn’t the Spirit Interference Device here break down? The administrator asked me to come restore it..."
Glancing around at the blood-soaked carnage, Chen Yutong felt her stomach churn violently. She pulled her gaze away from the heaps of corpses and looked back at Old White, scanning him with concern. "You’re not hurt, are you?"
Old White chuckled helplessly. "What could happen to me? Just 20 or so enemies..."
The Executioner squad’s gear had been impressive, but their combat strength wasn’t remarkable. They relied too much on equipment. Dropping loot was only natural.
What Old White didn’t know was that it wasn’t that the Executioners were weak, it was that his team’s power was far beyond the norm. Gaining the acknowledgment of the Wislanders wasn’t something raw strength alone could accomplish.
That squad, in a direct fight, might not beat the Army’s main force, but infiltration, sabotage, subversion, and assassination were their bread and butter. Taking out a settlement leader was child’s play.
The Torch Church had conquered such vast territory and turned countless settlements into puppets. At least half the credit lay with the Judgment Panel.
But the Executioners themselves hadn’t expected their optical camouflage to fail. That was why, later in the battle, they gave up on using it entirely.
By the end, they likely suspected the New Alliance had some kind of technology to pierce their stealth, otherwise how were they supposed to explain two ambushes foiled in a row?
Chen Yutong studied Old White with suspicion, then, realizing he truly was unharmed, let out a relieved sigh and smiled faintly. "If you’re fine, then I can rest easy."
Old White sighed, "I’m fine, but you may not be. This is a warzone, not a game."
Chen Yutong blinked playfully. "You’ll protect me, right?"
Old White froze, then nodded. "Of course. I’ll do my best..."
Seeing she had no intention of leaving, he couldn’t help but ask, "Aren’t you researching Na Fruit? I thought your specialty was biology."
Chen Yutong smiled. "That’s right, but I’ve studied neural interference too. Did you forget? I asked you to accompany me to the eastern suburbs of Clearspring City."
"I thought you just wanted a tour..."
"At the time, yes. But afterward I grew interested and learned more using resources from the Scientific Expedition Team." Her lips curved with pride as she spoke.
For her, that was no difficult field.
Her ability to learn was strong, especially in her expertise. She was at the golden age for research. If the Academy weren’t so overcrowded, she wouldn’t still be a mere low-ranked E-Class Researcher.
"Just a bit of simple study..."
Hearing this, Old White felt a pang of shame. Poor learning had been his lifelong regret, and one he had never had the chance to change.
Seeing him still standing there blankly, Chen Yutong urged, "Enough wasting time. It’s too late to send anyone else. Take me there."
Old White sighed and nodded. "Follow me."
Through the stairwell, they reached the underground level of the side hall.
Passing the collapsed doorway, Chen Yutong noticed a girl tied up tightly like a dumpling, and another girl keeping watch by her.
When Chen Yutong looked at Yang Xiaoyang, Yang Xiaoyang peeked at her shyly in return.
Chen Yutong stopped, bent down with hands on her knees, and asked, "Is this sister your friend?"
Yang Xiaoyang nodded, speaking softly. "... She’s Sister Yinyin. She’s two years older than me."
"Yinyin, a good name," Chen Yutong said with a smile, patting her head. "And you?"
Yang Xiaoyang whispered timidly. "I... I’m Yang Xiaoyang."
Yang Xiaoyang.
The wasteland’s most common names were rivers and mountains, seasons, trees, bugs, birds, or household items. Farming settlements often used cattle or horses, but sheep wasn’t used often.[1]
Chen Yutong was quiet for a moment, then said gently, "Your friend will get better."
At those words, Yang Xiaoyang’s taut face eased, joy flashing slightly.
She didn’t know why, but she instinctively trusted this strange older sister. She seemed like someone who knew many things, like a doctor.
"And... the others outside?"
"They’ll get better too."
Well, not that they will return to who they were before.
The memories of brainwashing wouldn’t vanish, nor would the dead rise. Even brief madness left scars that remained when awake.
The survivors in the settlement would spend long years in fear and regret.
After all, those who died under New Alliance guns were likely less than half their numbers.
Watching Yang Xiaoyang’s smile and Yinyin struggling in her bound state, Chen Yutong sighed inwardly and followed Old White into the lab.
Seeing the equipment in a side chamber, she stopped. She turned to look at the equipment in shock. "... This is..."
Old White asked curiously, "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing..."
As a lab, the equipment was comprehensive. There were incubators, biosafety cabinets, protein detectors, cell synthesizers, DNA sequencers, EEG monitors, and everything else.
These weren’t high-tech in the Prosperity Era. One could find them in ruins of labs and pharmaceutical plants.
However, a few pieces weren’t pre-war relics at all. They were post-apocalyptic builds.
She knew because, those models were the standard issue of the Academy’s Biological Research Institution.
She knew them too well...
... 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖
He Anshui was the owner of the Green Pine Inn.
His inn stood by the gate of Pinecone Ranch. It was easy to find and easy to remember because it was the only inn for miles.
His work was hosting merchants and mercenaries, while also collecting intel for his master, Lord Zhao.
No settlement could live richly just by farming. They always needed to trade with other settlements.
Lord Zhao knew Pinecone Ranch needed merchants, but he distrusted them. Though empty houses were everywhere, he never let outsiders stay unless he personally invited them over.
Thanks to that monopoly, He Anshui’s inn had made him wealthy.
Most of the profits went to Zhao Tiangan, but he still saved plenty.
He didn’t need to wander like Yang He, nor give up family as hostages in the side hall. Zhao Tiangan trusted him, he lived right by the gate. The only thing was, both his family and wealth were under watch.
He Anshui was unambitious. He just wanted a stable life. Running the inn, he had seen too many wastelanders missing limbs.
They had no masters, but also nothing in their pockets. No one would give a damn if they died. Compared to their lives, he preferred safe comfort.
Perhaps that was why his father named him that way. It signified he could be as steady as water in a well.
Wu Wenzhou, his old friend, had returned with news from the north. He mentioned that wastelanders there, harassed too long by marauders, had finally united.
Seeing Wu Wenzhou so animated about the New Alliance, He Anshui guessed he planned to leave.
He scoffed and became unconcerned with the man after that.
There was only danger out there. As for paying 0.9 silver coins per kilogram of corn, so what?
Could meat elsewhere be so cheap?
Here, a coin bought a basket of food. Other slaves might live poorly, but he lived well enough. He ate and drank whenever he want, even growing fat.
Pinecone Ranch was the most comfortable place in the wasteland.
He didn’t know how long had passed when the buzzing faded. His vision cleared. He shook his head, slapped his face.
Squish.
The sticky feeling unsettled him.
No matter how seldom he washed, he wasn’t that greasy. His mouth tasted of rust, his throat clogged.
"Did I fall asleep..." He muttered, opening his mouth. Something dropped out, splattering crimson on the floor.
Tomato... sauce?
Staring at the red pool by his knees, his gaze lifted slowly.
There, in the blood, lay a mangled thing. It was surrounded by faces he knew well. The inn’s cook, servants, nearby slaves... 30 or so people were crammed into the room.
All knelt blankly before that ruined thing.
His memory stirred.
He knew the room, it was his old friend Wu Wenzhou’s chamber.
Just at noon, he’d wondered why Wu Wenzhou didn’t go home, but instead came here to drink with the mercenaries.
Now he knew who the mutilated body was.
He remembered.
"Old... Old Wu..."
His lips trembled, face drained white. He jolted back like shocked, collapsing, scrambling with his legs until he hit the wall.
His soaked trousers dragged a red streak across the floor.
What had he done?
No...
Why?
His gut churned like acid. He vomited violently, curling in blood and bile, shuddering in spasms.
"Ahh... Blreghhh!"
No words came, but whatever he ate before emerged from his lips.
He wanted to ask why, why it had come to this!
Why everything was fine one moment, and the next...
He had endless questions, with no one to ask.
The others kneeling by the mutilated Wu Wenzhou were the same. They too awoke, then sank into horror and despair. Puke, tears, and everything that could come out of them came spilling out.
They knelt in repentance. Some were wailing, smashing heads against walls to wake from the nightmare, numbing themselves with pain, while others were still puking.
Once again, Pinecone Ranch filled with cries and sobs.
This time, it was even more miserable than before.
...
1. Yang = sheep in Mandarin ☜
