This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 590.2: The Soil That Destroys Life

"... That’s ridiculous."

Ample Time smiled again.

"It doesn’t matter. Think of it another way. Back when Singularity City still stood, would you have wanted to venture into the wasteland?"

Though unsure why Ample Time asked, Night Ten tried to follow.

Going into the wasteland...

Without a second life, he probably wouldn’t have dared.

But Ample Time didn’t wait for him to finish, continuing right as he opened his mouth.

"Most Singularity City citizens lived well under the Post-War Reconstruction Committee. But those were its final years, and supplies grew scarce. The authorities promised if ordinary rations were cut, those who established the city would receive support."

"You’re a young idealist. You think it’s better to risk roaming the wasteland than starve. So you go, braving death, digging your first well in frozen earth, clearing your first field, building your first house. Next year, you trade your surplus grain for seeds, fertilizer, cattle and sheep..."

"Life goes well, until one day, a band of wasteland drifters begs to settle near you."

"Out of pity or pragmatism, you let them. After all, you can’t farm all the fertile land yourself, and more people means more safety. You know the wasteland worsens every day, and you’re still just one man, with two hands, no more than three guns."

"Later, Singularity City broke out in crisis. Mutant Humans replaced the old humans as the new masters, and more refugees poured in to you. Though you wanted to help them, you couldn’t simply hand out your hard-earned grain, so you came up with a compromise. You lent them food, seeds, and tools. In return, they had to repay you with the next year’s harvest or newly cleared land. That way, both sides benefited."

Night Ten scratched his head. "And what’s wrong with that?"

Seeing Night Ten utterly puzzled, Ample Time smiled. "There’s nothing wrong with it. Plantation economies were actually relatively progressive in the early Wasteland Era. They encouraged settlements to expand outward. Back in the Post-War Reconstruction Committee’s time, most settlements didn’t want the trouble, they had the Production Department, that almighty black box."

"Small plantations, though technically immature, absorbed surplus survivors whom big settlements couldn’t take in, and to some degree curbed the rise of marauders."

"If not for those plantations, after Singularity City’s collapse, this place would have become a kingdom of marauders. Not just Mutant Humans would be eating people, it would have been worse than now."

Then Ample Time’s tone changed. "But the problem is, a century and a half has passed, and the locals are still running society as if it were a farm."

"The farm master clutched his bit of power carefully, trying with mortal wisdom to do what even gods couldn’t, managing every detail, like his ancestors. His greatest dream? To annex nearby settlements. As for industry? That wasn’t in his mind, or in any noble’s mind, unless, like Boulder Town, he had a pack of nobles to feed."

Night Ten frowned. "But there are lots of officers here... like Luo Feihui, the one who tried to use us to climb up. Doesn’t he count as nobility?"

Ample Time shook his head. "He, like Yang He who escaped from this farm, only borrowed part of the master’s authority. At the end of the day, they were just powerful servants."

He paused, then went on. "But this isn’t only the master’s fault. You can see the survivors here are very careful never to take one ounce more responsibility than necessary."

"They think the less trouble, the better. Whatever happens, they just bow their heads, bury them in the dirt for someone taller to take the blows, while their asses stick up in the air waiting to snatch a seat when dawn breaks."

"Mutants call them two-legged livestock, baring their fangs to eat them. The Torch Church doesn’t see them as people either. Tens of thousands killed as if it were nothing. Maybe you secretly look down on them too, even if you sympathize with their suffering from a modern stance. But who really denies they’re people? Not just the Torch Church or the mutants, it’s themselves."

"Don’t you see? This is a two-way pact. Nobody even needs to put a rope around their necks. Unlike Boulder Town, here it isn’t necessary. So don’t expect a few words to make them remember they’re human. This off-road vehicle doesn’t even have a gas pedal. Better to teach them literacy first, then hand them a copy of ‘Boulder Town Chronicles’. If nothing else, they’ll at least shout a few slogans."

Falling Feather interjected, "Wasn’t it called ‘Bore the Awakener: A Slum Boy Who Found a Vial of Awakening Elixir and Took Down an Exoframe in the Final Battle’?"

Ample Time coughed. "I forgot..."

Well, that was awkward. His girlfriend was the editor of that book. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

Night Ten stared blankly at Ample Time, his throat bobbing, words dying before they left his mouth.

He thought of Yang Xiaoyang.

That girl, in the final moment, hadn’t thought of saving herself. She was even willing to be eaten by the young lady.

She never once thought whether her sacrifice was really good for Yinyin.

Eating a person...

Even if one didn’t go mad, it would scar the mind for life.

Even someone like Irene, who would eat anything and laugh it off as it being just a game, had never dared to taste human flesh.

Let alone a friend’s flesh...

From beginning to end, Yang Xiaoyang had never seen herself as human. Even though she was sharp and clever, far beyond a child.

For a moment, Night Ten felt that, extreme as the Torch Church’s methods were, they weren’t completely without cause.

Those people weren’t insane because of Na Fruit.

They were never normal.

The absurd thing was, the farm was one of the more normal settlements in the wasteland. There were countless others far more deranged.

"No wonder the Enlightenment Society wants to end the world..." Night Ten muttered.

Old White clapped his shoulder. "Enough. Don’t listen to Ample Time’s nonsense. If this guy were alive back in the Prosperity Era, he’d probably have been an Enlightenment Society shareholder. Don’t let him drag you off-track."

Ample Time protested, "That’s slander! I would never do something so extreme!"

"Hard to say. With brains like yours, who knows what you plot all day," Old White chuckled, patting Night Ten’s shoulder. "Go talk to Yinyin. Convince her to cooperate with us."

"Huh?" Night Ten blinked. "She’s just a kid, what can she do?"

Falling Feather smirked, waggling his brows. "Can’t you teach her? Don’t you like them young?"

Night Ten jumped like a scalded rabbit, glaring at him. "Screw you! I-I like them a little older!"

Gale stroked his chin. "Got it. Makes sense now..."

Night Ten turned beet red. "Sense your ass!"

Laughter filled the room, washing away the heaviness from before.

Ample Time coughed, looking at the flustered Night Ten. "Seriously, Old White’s right. If we don’t help that girl, she’ll be forced into being the farm owner."

That was what the officers thought too.

Aside from the dead Luo Feihui, the rest preferred propping up the little girl as master rather than taking the responsibility themselves.

That way they controlled the farm indirectly, without risk or blame, and without fighting to the death over a thankless role.

The situation was unstable. The Torch Church and the New Alliance had only just gone to war, anything could happen.

Night Ten muttered, "You’re worrying too much. Inheriting such wealth, maybe she’s secretly thrilled."

Ample Time shot him a glance. "Until she ruins everything, and they cut her down as a scapegoat?"

Night Ten protested, "But she’s just a child! What can she do? Didn’t you yourself say they’re already hopeless?"

Ample Time shook his head. "I never said they’re hopeless. The Torch Church did. I only said that they wouldn’t wake up to reality out of nowhere. It isn’t one person’s burden, but everyone’s responsibility."

"That child too. She can accept the power thrust into her hands, and become a puppet. Farm owners aren’t easy jobs, she doesn’t have her father’s ruthlessness. Or, she can choose differently, return the power her father stole from everyone here. Step down willingly, for a dignified ending. She would still keep some wealth that way."

Old White frowned. "Isn’t that too heavy for her? Elisa is nearly grown, but she’s only eight."

Ample Time shrugged. "It’s the easiest path. She only needs to nod, say the right words, and she gets a respectable ending. If she refuses, what comes next will be much heavier."

Night Ten frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This is a war against the Torch Church. The battlefield isn’t just where eyes can see. I just realized, the Sanctuary isn’t as invincible as it seems. It can hide in some minds, but not all. The majority of people here, that’s where the real battlefield is. If you were the administrator, what would you do?"

Ample Time’s question made Night Ten pause. He almost said he didn’t know, but then it clicked. He thought of Na Fruit, and blurted out, "You just make it lose its foundation to survive..."

Na Fruit didn’t kill anyone, but it poisoned the foundation against humanity.

That was the root of the Torch Church’s plan, like the Enlightenment Society’s neutron purge.

The Torch Church could work here only because the foundations that had been set let its filth grow.

So... All they had to do was to make it unlivable for any of them.

The New Alliance let survivors decide their own fate, as long as they didn’t drag others down.

However, this time, it wasn’t just local.

The Heart of Steel floating above was proof enough.

Seeing Night Ten finally catch on, Ample Time nodded in approval. "Exactly. If you unite the majority, the Torch Church and their Na Fruit lose their foundation. And to do that, the administrator will almost certainly split the farmland among the slaves and rewrite the rules here."

"After last night’s disaster, every settlement here faces a single question."

"Will they choose the Torch Church, or the New Alliance."

The war had already begun.