Chapter 106: Wasteland Crew Rover – 4

A Li’s Moxel connected to a distant figure, the true captain of the Wasteland Crew Rover swept through his telepathic link, letting his gaze land briefly on Yang Zicang, etching the young man’s image deep into his mind.

{Come back now. The river runs often—splash without wet shoes? This time, you’ve crossed paths with someone you shouldn’t have.}

Suddenly, the eyes of the man in the vision sharpened.

{Watch out… No, Second-in-Command, fare you well.}

–What!–

Kaboom!

A burst of flames erupted, smoke and dust billowing across the darkened land. Several men behind A Li were instantly engulfed by the fiery blaze, screaming as they rolled on the ground.

Yang Zicang’s silhouette vanished in the wind—reappearing before A Li.

–Secret Technique? Someone like you here? Why are you here!–

His Moxel unfolded.

From this man’s body, countless shards of glass erupted like an explosion, hurtling toward Yang Zicang ahead.

Clang and crash!

Glass poured out like it cost nothing, instantly filling the space before Yang Zicang with layer upon layer of tempered and ordinary sheets—thin, thick, frosted, emerald green, or tea-tinted glass fragments.

Boom! Glass, charged with Chronos, exploded into a myriad of gleaming particles, shooting and swirling wildly.

[Dispatch!]

[Position Manifestation, Ones, Tens, Hundreds!]

[999th Level.]

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!

The train lunged forward, enveloping Yang Zicang within it, instantly dissolving into wind and vanishing from the spot.

The moment he was swallowed into the train’s belly, countless glass shards crashed inward, clattering noisily against the carriage interior.

[I neutralized 1238N.]

–So that’s real glass. Your ability is to contain them?–

Yang Zicang appeared behind the burst of scattered glass shards.

–Heh, compared to a certain friend of mine, your glass might only qualify you as a building material supplier.–

Ali trembled in fear—his tons of projected glass had neutralized a mere 1,238 Chronos.

Countless times before, disguised as a strongman, he had ambushed who knew how many people with this trick. Yet today, his opponent showed no fear of his tons of Chronos glass debris.

A soothing voice echoed in his mind.

{Second-in-command, I’ll ask the Shadowflame to avenge you.}

Ali first simmered with rage, then a look of defeat spread across his face.

–Spare me the nonsense. If you’re going to kill or mutilate me, just do it. I’ve long expected this day.–

He knew full well he could never gain the Investiture of the Wilderness Carriage’s master, and death was imminent. Shouting these words, he gripped his hammer with both hands and smashed it viciously toward his opponent.

Paleshade Wyrm appeared the next day; with a single charge, Ari’s translucent psychic body was yanked out of his chest like a puppet on strings. The man’s body crashed heavily to the ground. Yang ZiCang’s figure flickered, and with a kick he snapped the arms gripping the weapon. The weapon, driven by an invisible force, arced through the air in a bizarre trajectory and landed steadily in the youth’s hand.

[I have obtained a new Chronos Weapon.]

After sensing it, this is a Chronos Weapon dealing 45N per strike.

–What is the Wasteland Chariot?–

Yang ZiCang turned to look at the suspended psychic body; it still maintained a sliver of consciousness—its mental fortitude was impressive.

{I, don’t know. You will die… The one who kills me… Death to your entire family.}

–Where is your headquarters?–

{Your whole family…}

Yang ZiCang wanted to extract more information from this man, but the latter was brimming with fury, ignoring all subsequent questions and merely hurling curses at him.

–Such heavy resentment. Forget it. Goodbye.–

With a wave of his hand, Paleshade Wyrm soared joyfully into the sky before plunging straight down, devouring the psychic body, then charging toward the others scrambling in panic.

Yang ZiCang looked to the other end of the battlefield. Shiu Siuchuan and Zuo Feixian were like hounds charging into a chicken coop, chasing after the chaotic fleeing crowd. He wondered if they had captured any ChronosInvest.

As for Robin Lo, he brandished a golden long sword glowing with red light, rapidly pursuing those scrambling to flee on all sides.

Each of Robin Lo’s strikes appeared ordinary, yet every thrust was lethal. On the surface, he seemed to shout and carry on, but in truth, his moves were ruthless, efficient, and far more precise than the combat instincts Yang Zicang had honed through his life-and-death battles with wild beasts. Yang Zicang was certain—this guy was no ordinary officer in a cap.

–Ah, die!–

A deputy-level figure, driven mad from the relentless pursuit and knowing he couldn’t shake this tail, spun around with a roar, activating his Moxel as he charged at Robin Lo.

–Hmph!–

Robin Lo crouched low and drove his shoulder forward with a jolt. The onrushing man was sent flying backward from the impact, his shoulder thrown wide. Robin Lo turned and planted a heavy foot on the man’s abdomen.

He pinned the man down with one knee, then swept his blade sideways across the man’s throat.

–Pretty meaty—enough to offset over sixty hundred years of my Chronos enhancement. Still, what a waste.–

Robbing Lo rose to his feet; the shadows around him had thinned.

He looked toward a vacant stretch at the far end, where a young man stood silently in the dark, his casual posture fixed on him.

–Heh heh.– Robbing Lo inched his head toward that direction, showing a sheepish grin.

After one last round of pursuit, The Huāngchē Cargo Crew was utterly routed. A crowd of forty to fifty people gathered in front of the youth, their leader—Song Zilin—standing at the front.

With a thud, he dropped to one knee, lifting two low-grade Chronos weapons high and saying, –Thank you, our benefactor.–

Seeing this gesture, Yang Zicang was startled: –What are you doing? This isn’t ancient times—get up now.–

Paleshade Wyrm vanished into the distance, then instantly emerged half its body from behind Yang Zicang’s shadow, craning forward to look ahead.

Here, no one could afford to be careless.

Song Penglord, in shabby clothes and thin but spirited, stood up and cupped his fists, bellowing: –Brother, if it weren’t for you today, we’d be dead for sure.–

Another man behind him also shouted: –We’re all just worthless lives with nothing to thank you with—this is our respect.–

With that, the man tossed out a low-grade Chronos war-tool he had seized.

–From now on, whatever you command, I don’t care about the others—I, Old Meng, will never say a single word of refusal.–

–And me, Zhang Minhua.–

–Me too, Li Haixuan!–

The crowd roared into a chorus.

Song Penglord said: –Brother, get ready because I’m about to return the Chronos to you. You can step back and clear it.–

–Just give me back the five thousand.–

–You must clear the Chronos—I’m returning more than just five thousand to you.–

Robin Lo walked over, standing beside Yang Zicang.

–This is everyone’s goodwill—just take it,– he urged on behalf of the group of men.

Meeting the eager gazes of the crowd, Yang Zicang nodded: –Fine.–

[Song Zilin repaid my 5,000N financing and sent back a bonus of 4,500N. A pretty good Investment, but a shame there’s no daily summary here.]

Popori on the Sync-Link channel leaped up.

{We’re rolling in it tonight again!}

{Haha, Popori is happy as long as he makes an extra day’s worth.}

Morris teased with a laugh.

Yang Zicang chuckled inwardly—though each secret tome could sell for tens of thousands of Chronos, for Popori, every one sold meant one fewer in hand.

The rarer the treasure, the more it felt like gouging his own flesh.

Earning extra Chronos elsewhere brought him greater joy, even if it came from someone else’s gains.

Meanwhile, Morris and Popori were both stunned to their core—the carnage on the Shibin Wastes had been nothing short of bloody.

Only now did Popori truly grasp just how –formidable– the –formidable master– Morris had mentioned actually was.

With no need to spare a single Chronos in the melee, the Paleshade Wyrm held absolute dominance—before encountering other Nen users, it was the unchallenged master of the battlefield.

Zuo, Xu, and Professor Chen made their way through the corpses strewn everywhere. –Haha, we finally rid everyone of that pest tonight.–

–How terrifying! Master, for once your judgment was actually spot on—you’ve truly found a big shot.–

Behind them, Xiao Liu tugged at his mentor’s sleeve, pointing at Yang Zicang’s silhouette as he spoke with feigned fear.

Professor Chen cast a speechless glance at his student. –Take your paw off, you’re embarrassing yourself.–

Several weary figures emerged from the surroundings.

–Our saviors.–

–So many have died this time.–

Yang Zicang looked over and saw Ning Yang and his four companions standing hesitantly in the distance.

Song Peng and the others watched them warily. Though the light was dim, they had noticed these people earlier within the ranks of the Deserted Cars Cargo Crew.

–Brother Jiazi… and Master Zuo… you… sob sob sob…–

Ning Yang had intended to maintain some composure, but the moment he spoke, he burst into sorrowful sobs, growing louder with each cry.

–I thought I’d never see you again… sob sob sob…–

Yang Zicang shrugged helplessly.

–You bunch of fools!–

Shiu Siuchuan went straight to scolding them harshly.

After listening for a while, the dozens across from them realized with astonishment that Jiazi and the others had come to rescue them—that, in fact, they owed their lives to these very people.

After this reprimand ended, a startled Song Penglord slowly walked over, handing his weapon to Zuo Feixian, who stood beside Yang Zicang. The fellow joyfully clutched it in his arms.

–Friends, stay here tonight. We’ll sort through these goods later, and tomorrow, Brother Jiazi, wherever you say to deliver them, we’ll take them there.–

–You take half of these goods, and we’ll take the other half.–

The dozens of people knew Yang Zicang wasn’t speaking insincerely. After all, someone who would even come to rescue those wrongly accused of stealing—they had complete trust in the man before them.

They had already learned the whole story from Ning Yang and the others’ apologies, and harbored no doubt at all toward Yang Zicang.

Song Zilin thought for two seconds, gritted his teeth, and said, –Friend, I don’t know if you have your own Peng Zone. If you’re willing, I can give you mine, and let you become a Penglord.–

This was the best plan he could think of for surviving in this place.

The strength of the man before him was clearly enough to guard one, or even two, large Peng Zones and serve as a pillar there.

If someone like this joined, even if he himself were only a Vice Penglord, the future development of the Peng Zone would be incomparable to the present.

The gaze of dozens of people suddenly fell upon Yang Zicang.

They thought, if this man were to become Penglord, their fate out in the wasteland would truly be well protected.

–Sorry, but we already have our own settlement, and we also have our own Cargo Crew.–

Zuo Feixian refused without a second thought on Yang Zicang’s behalf.

–If your development prospects aren’t so bright in the future, you’re welcome to come our way, even for trading goods. Of course, that’s a matter for later, so let’s not dwell on it now.–

Yang Zicang nodded in agreement. Lao Zuo might seem unserious, but when it came to making a crucial decision, his head wasn’t confused at all.

Wait—development prospects not so bright?

Yang Zicang spun around and drove a knee into Zuo Feixian’s backside, knocking him two or three steps forward.

–Song Penglord, our apologies, we didn’t mean it that way.–

–No, no offense, what this brother said is the truth.– Song Penglord wiped the cold sweat off his forehead.

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