About sixty to seventy miles southwest of the mountain region, the Deputy Penglord of the Kongshan Peng Zone emerged from an urgent meeting, deep in thought as he stepped through the door.
A young man with a somber expression hurried over and whispered in his ear:
–The Big Client’s Cargo Crew seems to have been founded by the same people who took down the Desert Truck Cargo Crew a while ago.–
–What!–
The Deputy Penglord let out a low exclamation. Glancing at a Peng Zone supervisor passing nearby, he lowered his voice and said to the composed young man:
–When the Penglord asked just now during the meeting, why didn’t you speak up?–
The man chuckled and replied, –Captain Yuan Kun has been gaining the Penglord’s trust more and more lately. Deputy Peng, back when you were managing the Cargo Crew construction, do you think you have any say in it now? It’s hardly a good thing to be too idle here.–
A flicker of unease crossed the Deputy Penglord’s face.
He pulled the young man aside as they walked on. –Chang Ao, it’s best to refrain from words that might harm brotherly harmony. Still, your criticism of Yuan Kun is quite correct—that man is too arrogant. Monopolizing the Cargo Crew’s authority is hardly appropriate. Tell me, how do we make him aware of his mistake?–
Chang Ao glanced around, confirming that nearby passersby weren’t paying attention to their conversation, and then said briefly:
–Jiazi Term leaked news of the sale ahead of time, yet they’ve set the official launch for next Tuesday. In the days between, they’ve clearly left us Big Peng Zone types room to negotiate.–
–Exactly, that’s how it works.–
–Given Yuan Kun’s nature, he’ll definitely leverage the situation to apply pressure. But from what I know of Major Jia’s leader, this guy isn’t just strong in capability—he’s pretty tolerant by nature. I figure, if we can’t bring ourselves to discipline our own kid, letting someone else give him a wake-up slap to teach him a lesson wouldn’t be so bad.–
Upon hearing this, the Vice Penglord was momentarily stunned, then studied Chang Ao’s calm expression, a hint of a grin slowly spreading across his lips.
–Master Zhang has a point. That punk really could use a lesson.–
……
The sky was gradually shifting.
Right now, Aya was completely dizzy, with countless mental links reaching out to her, while Ning Yang watched from the side, cold sweat pouring down his face.
–Y-Yang, this person’s offered four hundred years and wants to buy us out entirely. He can be here by tonight.–
–Don’t worry about him.–
–Oh.– Aya severed the link, and instantly, countless gossamer threads shot toward her; the dense net of threads on her chest had already formed into a small cone of light.
–Two-hundred fifty? No sale!– Aya decisively cut off a random mental connection she’d stumbled across.
Just a few minutes in, and Aya’s criteria had already soared sky-high.
Before making her –declaration,– she was still wondering why anyone would buy the incense pellets set by Yang ZiCang at a price as high as two hundred years of Chronos. To her, gifting even a day or two of lifespan, let alone a year or two, was a difficult task.
But now, the densely packed purchase inquiries left this girl—who had endured much yet remained young at heart—utterly stunned. Too many people were vying to pay high prices; for those with means, their only regret was that Yang ZiCang had set the price too low, with several even clamoring to buy out the entire stock.
At this moment, Maya’s mind seemed to resound with the voices of countless people, yet oddly, each inner thought presented itself clearly, and they did not interfere with her reflections. She suddenly wondered if the towering statues in the temple before, up on their pedestals, also endured a similar experience.
The woman lifted her face, overflowing with confidence, her previous defeated expression swept away and replaced by a radiant, vibrant glow.
–Brother Yang, someone else has bid eight hundred years, saying they’ll take however many we have, but at the very least, please reserve fifteen portions for them.–
Yang ZiCar shook his head. –Not selling.–
That person offered eight hundred years without even knowing what the Qing Shen incense pellets were; they were either a liar or someone with overwhelming power. Having too many major players coming in would instead interfere with his plans.
All he wanted was to find someone to probe the strength of the Phantom Shadow, not to hand over the treasures inside willingly.
Though he was indeed playing with fire, a single misstep could leave him with nothing. But on the other hand, he couldn’t afford to pass upこのChronos.
The Chronos from selling Morris’s skill book, given to him by others for his free use, was ultimately someone else’s. If he could earn Chronos on his own this time, whether he used them himself, gave them away, or invested in Hubville assets, he could spend them with a clear conscience.
For no reason, he lifted his head and gazed into the distance… Zorro.
–Brother Yang, this guy says he wants seven copies over four hundred years.–
Aya’s voice interrupted Yang Zicang’s train of thought. He nodded and said:
–We can consider that.–
–I’ll note it for now and see if there are any better offers,– Aya offered voluntarily.
Professor Chen crouched nearby, swallowing hard.
His mind was constantly calculating—just from the Chronos income Aya had rattled off so far, if all were agreed upon, it already amounted to at least thirty to forty thousand!
He felt a bit dizzy; this was way quicker than going out working his bones off for fossilized artifacts and gear.
Shiu Siuchuan and the others were equally dazed.
They could hardly imagine how much Chronos they could earn if they started selling right now—by the time they returned to Earth, they would easily be worshipped as gods for bestowing centuries of longevity on an entire city’s population.
As for Xiao Liu and the others, they had long been ecstatic, beside themselves with joy.
–Even finding that kind of thing in a decade or two is rare. Big Brother Jia comes in? Ha, forget it.–
Zuo Feixian sighed, –A man as brilliant and mighty as me naturally finds a kindred spirit in Old Yang.–
–Brother Jiazi Term, your surname is Yang?–
Song Penglord, utterly impressed and overhearing the nearby chatter, asked out of curiosity.
Robin Lo sauntered over, grinning, –Old Zuo’s talking through his hat. My surname is Yang, given name Dacang—he’s my so-called ‘kindred thing.’–
–Da, Dacang … like large intestine?– Song Penglord was stunned.
Zuo Feixian swung in with a kick, but Robin Lo was quicker—lifting his leg to beat him to it, –Take this crown move!–
–OW—wooooo!–
Zuo Feixian extended both arms downward and collapsed entirely backward.
Song Penglord’s teeth clenched with sourness; without a word, he turned and went back to work—there were still several wooden cabins not yet finished.
Not far away, several women from Peng Zone were preparing meals for everyone, and a group of more than twenty people of the Cargo Crew crowded together noisily, eating from a shared pot, a scene bustling and lively.
–At first I thought these supplies we brought might be too many, impossible to sell off—but seeing things now, I think we won’t have to worry about that at all.–
–Yeah, that’s the vision of our Cargo Crew Chief for you.–
In the two sheds nearby, there were mountains of clothes and shoes, alongside writing brushes, ink, paper, and even items like water kettles, iron pots, and chests.
Chief among these were tools, such as mining picks, logging machetes, and shovels—essentials for both production and daily life.
These were all items obtained from the Wasteland Wagon’s Cargo Crew last time.
Some handcrafted ones had been used to make engines, but most of the goods sourced from Hubville were themselves replicas of engines and thus could no longer serve as engine-making materials.
Niuwa held a steaming bowl of rice: –Brother Ning, and Brother Jiazi, it’s been ages since we’ve had such joy and liveliness. I wish it could stay this way forever.–
–Shut up, don’t jinx it!– Zuo Feixian leaped up from his stool.
He waved his chopsticks: –Today’s a day of fortune, folks. We’re all gonna live a hundred years, no—cheers to eternal life! More good food and feast to come, right, Captain Jia?–
A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, yet his words resonated with everyone’s hearts.
Even with life –easily– gained, if every day felt like living in hell, the endless years would only be a form of punishment.
The meals they held now—ordinary food back on Earth—were delicacies in this world that only the great Penglords could enjoy daily.
If they could live each day like this, they truly believed that dwelling here for millennia would indeed make them gods among mortals.
……
The next morning, just as dawn was barely breaking, a rumbling sound approached from afar. A car, grotesquely modified by Nightmare energy, kicked up dust as it sped closer, its body already twisted into a monstrous and bizarre form.
–Hey everyone! Haha, good morning!– A figure leaped from the vehicle a few dozen meters away and strided toward the camp.
Song Penglord led his men forward to meet him, their greetings tinged with vigilance. With his –Quad– ability, though his strength wasn’t top-tier, he held a natural oppressive force over low-level Moxel.
–Are you here to check on the goods?–
–Yeah, yeah! We’re the Wasteland Boys, oh yeah!– One of the men in the car swung an electric guitar and plucked a string, producing a jarring screech.
Laughing heartily, he tossed the guitar back into the vehicle and jumped out to land on his feet.
Before Song Penglord could finish his inquiry, the sound of hooves echoed from the other side. Several tall horses galloped into view, carrying dark silhouettes.
Yang ZiCang quietly observed the arrivals.
These men wore straw hats, their waists adorned with firearms that were clearly Nightmare-spawned, making them look like a band of eccentric western cowboys. Anyone wielding gun-type Nightmares in the city either had an extraordinary background or had personally forged and tamed them to obtain their weapons.
Regardless of which, these individuals were certainly no pushovers.
The man at the front reined in his horse and cupped his hands in salute, saying, –A’jia Cargo Crew? Pleased to meet you. We’re the Kongshan Cargo Crew. I’m Yuan Kun.–
–Welcome.–
That ferocious Nightmare sedan slowly drew closer, and the horse team also halted nearby, with seven or eight people gathering around.
–It’s a good thing we happened to be scouting this A-class interweave zone, or we’d have missed the chance.– Yuan Kun said.
The man strumming the guitar stepped forward and asked, –May I ask what treasures you’re selling? Can they truly guarantee our safe passage into the mountains?–
Just then, someone with sharp eyes spotted the words on the wooden boards inside the tent beside them.
–Clarity Incense Pills?–
–Indeed. This is precisely what can ensure your safe entry into the mountains.–
Zuo Feixian couldn’t wait to pick up a pill and leaned in. Before he even got close, a faint, refreshing fragrance wafted over, instantly clearing the minds of those nearby.
The person beside Yuan Kun closed his eyes and took a deep breath, praising, –A subtle scent fills heart and lungs, the soul freely follows. What a wonderful aroma.–
–As expected of a learned scholar, haha. Our Cargo Crew man of culture has indeed been captivated by these incense pills.–
After a hearty laugh, Yuan Kun tightened the reins and said coldly,
–But we still don’t know if these pills will actually work.–
His gaze swept across the twenty-odd people stationed there. Except for a few, most exuded the shabby and destitute air unique to the Little Peng Zone.
With just one glance, Yuan Kun felt he had seen through these people’s true colors.
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