Although the –Hunter Faction Headquarters– is an organization jointly established by many influential figures on Earth,
Becoming one of its leaders requires true capability. Past fame only makes it easier to gain others’ trust.
In the sensory link, Chen Yu sighed and said：
{It’s confirmed. The deceased is Zhou Heng.}
As expected of the Xiong Ying Group, they ultimately killed Zhou Heng. This time, the headquarters has indeed suffered a heavy loss.
Though I have little attachment to the so-called headquarters, the ordinary Zhou Heng, through his knowledge and methods alone, made a crucial contribution to its development.
–Can the other two still recover? They are severely injured.–
{It was originally quite tricky, but coincidentally, we found someone who can grant wishes, which made it much simpler.}
–Grant wishes? Is that a Wish Talisman?–
{You’re aware of Wish Talismans too?}
This truly made Chen Yu admire Yang Zicang.
The headquarters only learned about such things long afterward. Its existence is a secret to most people, yet this newcomer, who has been here only a few days, seems to know everything about these matters.
……
After taking Liang Xi to Luo Xin’s place, the three of them went to Chu Chiang’s to pick up Liu Ming and Chang Yang, who had come in at the same time. The five of them returned together to the theater’s alternate dimension.
–Impressive, you’ve got your own fancy villa now.–
A voice echoed hollowly as Chang Yang gazed around with envy.
–From now on, if there’s nothing urgent, don’t go out. Better safe than sorry.– Yang Zicang looked toward the dilapidated theater; only this place could give him any sense of security.
Lyu Bu’s satellite had become a sword of Damocles hanging over everyone’s heads.
After tidying up, Yang Zicang made a show of packing his luggage.
Mu Xiaoyu walked over, handed him a cracker, and said:
–Heading out again? Just rest today, okay?–
–That subway only moves at night. I’ll get some sleep during the day.–
……
Under the deep twilight gloom.
Even at night, the Workpen Settlement occasionally buzzed with sounds.
In the dead of night, Wang Chong, now in slightly finer clothes, received a message from Moxel, got up from his bed, and yawned as he walked out into the dark. From the bed across the small room, Shiu Siuchuan, seeing him leave, quickly grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around himself, rubbed his hands together, and walked beside him.
–Was it that Yang Zicang who contacted you? Oh, it’s so cold. The nights in this godforsaken place are freezing.–
–You should be thankful you’re not frozen to death,– Wang Chong said.
–Summer’s almost over, and winter is coming—I’ve no idea what to do then.–
Right after the two walked out, inside another room of this cluster of dozens of wooden shacks varying in height and size—some towering, some squat.
Fan Xiuyun and Lyu Zhi, the latter still lost in a daze of yearning, lay on the lower bunks of their respective twin-tiered wooden beds. One snored like thunder, while the other brooded in silent envy over the Nightmare Train they had glimpsed that afternoon.
Suddenly, Lyu Zhi heard a faint groan from the bunk above his.
Lyu Zhi whispered, –Chin Mong, what’s wrong—caught one of your episodes again?–
–I… I’m fine…– Chin Mong on the upper bunk gritted his teeth, suppressing the sudden, piercing pain jolting through his chest cavity. –It’s nothing. You know, same old chronic problem. Just get some rest.–
The sturdy Lyu Zhi sat up, casting a concerned glance at the frail Chin Mong, and after seeing no major issue, he lay back down on the bed strewn with withered grass and faint red crystal fragments.
After taking a few deep breaths, Chin Mong heard a voice echoing from the depths of his soul—
{Weren’t you planning to leave yesterday? So why haven’t you made a move yet? Hah.}
[I… can suppress you for a little while longer.]
{Relying on the extra fifty years of life you gained today? Hmph, I suggest you start now and find a desolate land far from humans to wait for death… That way, when I break free, those worthless friends of yours will have a few more days to live.}
Although it was a foreign language, it was naturally comprehensible to Chin Mong.
In the darkness, this voice audible only to himself seemed like the taunts of a demon.
Chin Mong’s heart was full of hatred, but he dared not show it, lest his newfound friends, who had finally accepted him, notice anything amiss.
After a long silence, Chin Mong held back a retort in his heart:
[You won’t succeed. I believe good will triumph over evil.]
{Hahaha, nothing but a weakling through and through, haha.}
{That so-called Council actually thought they could rely on a bunch of worthless lot like you to face the world’s crisis… What a doomed decision. Fortunately, I can still change the course…}
The voice slowly faded, and the extra fifty years of life gained earlier that afternoon had already dwindled to just forty-two.
……
After moving far away from the dozens of wooden sheds nestled against the mountain, Wang Chong and Shiu Siuchuan headed to a small sheltered mound behind.
Shiu Siuchuan, having just cracked a joke, shot a helpless glance at Wang Chong, who had fallen asleep instantly beside him.
Suddenly, an illusion twisted out of the air behind Wang Chong’s back.
Hazy energy rapidly expanded, forming a subway platform that occupied over ten meters of space.
–Whoa.–
Shiu Siuchuan’s jaw dropped. By the time Wang Chong jolted awake from his doze, the train car had already parked silently beside him.
Wang Chong scratched his medium-length hair and murmured drowsily, –Ah, Brother Yang, sorry, I just dozed off.–
What an honest kid, Yang ZiCang thought to himself. It almost made him awkward to explain further.
–These are clothes for you. I’ll bring you more later.–
Yang ZiCang opened a large suitcase.
–Whoa!–
Their eyes lit up at the clothes inside. Yang ZiCang knew the nights here were cold, so he had packed autumn and winter wear.
–Can I really take one?– Wang Chong eagerly grabbed a jacket, gazing at it with fond admiration.
Yang ZiCang nodded, letting them pick two pieces first.
–Brother Yang, there must be something you came for tonight, right? Anything I can help with?–
Shiu Siuchuan interjected, shameless as always.
–I want to buy some triangular Shitsutsu Moxels.–
In the dim light, the two exchanged glances. Wang Chong said, –I actually found one yesterday, but I already handed it in for my ground fee.–
To live in Workpen Settlement, one must pay one triangular Amnesia Moxel each month.
Upon hearing the pair’s explanation of the settlement, Yang Zicang’s heart stirred: –If I were to establish a Workpen Settlement here, could I collect rent just like your Penglord does?–
The two could only feel like thunderclouds were rolling over them—they were utterly dumbfounded.
Shiu Siuchuan sighed in admiration inwardly. On his first go, he was already hatching an idea that never crossed either of their minds; their thought processes simply didn’t operate on the same frequency.
Wang Chong stammered out, –Theoretically, it’s possible.–
–But, Brother Yang, managing a Workpen Settlement isn’t that easy. Besides dealing with the monsters that cross into here with each new Frequency Loss intersection, you also need to plan the residents’ living facilities and handle conflicts among them. Especially given that there are very few women here—if anyone has family members, it’s bound to cause trouble.–
Shiu Siuchuan added, –And Peng Zone isn’t something you can build just because you feel like it. First, you’d need a water well.–
–That’s right. It’s only from the rare new Frequency Loss intersections that occasionally appear, and only when a well is present inside them, that we sometimes find one or two wells to turn into Shin Engines.–
–Sounds really tough,– Yang Zicang sighed.
–It’s not so bad. If there’s suitable terrain, someone will first dig a well there, then move it out after water appears, and finally place an engine to activate it.–
Yang Zicang felt as though thunderbolts were crashing through his mind.
He had once heard a cross-talk performance where the wind blew a well away.
He never expected to witness a similar effect here—
Carve a well in a newly emerged scenic realm, then turn it into an engine to move it out.
–A quality well-making Shin Engine is very expensive—only a few mid-to-large sized Penglords possess their formulas.–
Fortunately, terrain-based engines don’t require cooperation from Hubville’s merchants; otherwise, almost no one could survive in the Shibin Wastes.
–Our Penglord wanted to craft water well engines; after nearly half a year of trials, reportedly wasting twenty to thirty portions of Forgotten-thought Moxel, they only managed two engines that barely yield murky water. The rest were either dry wells or wells filled with harmful substances or odd tastes that shorten one’s life upon drinking.–
–Oh, so the poison trade here must be thriving then.–
–Naturally, but what use is it? One sip tells you how many days you’ve lost off your life.–
–That’s true.–
Having shared a similar experience, Yang Zicang nodded deeply in agreement.
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