Heard of a Change

Dong Ge was not afraid of death. Back when he was still skinny and scrawny, he had made such a name for himself precisely because he dared to fight and kill.

But faced with the black muzzle of a gun, he finally realized with sorrow that he had grown old.

His senses were extremely keen, and he knew the other man would fire without the slightest hesitation.

So he answered quickly, "Someone said you were asking about Old Cripple."

So it was that bastard... Qu Jianlei was not surprised by the answer. This was the Wasteland.

The concession he had given that man had been negligible to begin with.

He asked in return, "Is Old Cripple not to be asked about?"

Dong Ge answered quickly, "Old Cripple's death involved important people... I'm feeling dizzy. Can I bandage myself first?"

Expressionless, Qu Jianlei tipped up his chin, then put away the Gauss Gun and drew his short dagger.

At such close range, the High-Frequency Oscillating Short Dagger was faster than the Gauss Gun.

Dong Ge truly had lost too much blood, but there was another purpose behind his question: Could I possibly survive? For Survivors wandering the wilds, even a first aid kit was exceedingly precious.

Seeing that the other party had agreed, Dong Ge took out a packet of First Aid Powder from his waist and sprinkled it over his shoulder.

Then he pulled out a roll of bandages, bit one end between his teeth, and wrapped it around himself several times with one hand, bandaging the wound on his left shoulder.

He then tied a knot one-handed, his movements quite practiced.

After that, he glanced at Qu Jianlei and asked softly, "Can I have some water first?"

Qu Jianlei did not move a muscle, his indifferent gaze fixed on Dong Ge's neck.

Dong Ge sighed and slowly said, "I still have a batch of supplies at the camp."

Qu Jianlei said calmly, "Answer my question first... I won't say it a second time."

Dong Ge pursed his lips and said, "Old Cripple was killed by people from the Main Settlement."

"The cause of it was that the Main Settlement killed a group of Scavengers at the Garbage Dump. It seemed someone among them was connected to Old Cripple..."

Qu Jianlei was speechless. Mr. Sai and his people truly did not treat Survivors as human beings.

But he found it strange. Had Mr. Sai killed so many people just to search for news of him? Surely not. Who could be certain that, without an antidote, he could struggle on and survive?

Was it really necessary to make such a Great Fanfare over someone who was dying, or perhaps already dead? After a long silence, he asked again, "Why did they kill the Scavengers?"

Dong Ge shook his head with a bitter smile. "How could someone like me be worthy of knowing something like that?"

Qu Jianlei said darkly, "I'll allow you to reconsider your wording."

How could he know nothing at all? Tu Zuo Fu had killed Scavengers at Hong Si Settlement, and no one knew how many people had witnessed it! Sure enough, Dong Ge hesitated before answering, "It seemed the Main Settlement had the Scavengers help search for something..."

He knew quite a lot. He even knew that the Scavengers had been poisoned, and that they regularly collected antidotes.

On the night before they were due to collect the third batch of antidotes, Collins had suddenly turned ruthless and ambushed five Scavengers.

The reason he gave Tu Zuo Fu was that those five had not been diligent in gathering information, so they had dealt with them internally.

He had not expected Silly Qu to fail to appear either, so Tu Zuo Fu only needed to provide fourteen doses of antidote.

Tu Zuo Fu had been somewhat surprised by this result as well: When you people turn ruthless, you even kill your own?

He had not made an issue of it. After all, their stated reason had been "eliminating Scavengers who were not working diligently."

So he directly handed out fourteen doses of antidote and informed them that there would only be twelve doses next time.

Yet another day later, people from the Main Settlement arrived. Upon hearing the news, they immediately led people to the Garbage Dump.

It was said that the leader had been extremely displeased: how the Scavengers were to be dealt with was not for them to decide internally.

That was probably why they massacred four or five hundred Scavengers.

However, among the fourteen people involved, it was said that someone had not been present due to other business and had thus escaped by chance.

As for who had escaped by chance, Dong Ge said he did not know either.

"I only know that Collins is dead... Since he could kill others, he should naturally have been prepared to be killed himself."

As he spoke, a faint trace of mockery actually appeared at the corner of his mouth.

It was normal for Survivors to scheme against one another, and normal to kill others to avert disaster. But to avert disaster one moment and be killed the next was simply absurd.

That person may not have escaped by chance at all! Qu Jianlei asked, "What exactly was the important person looking for?"

"I wouldn't dare ask about that." Dong Ge shook his head expressionlessly. "People die over such things."

"You're going to die anyway!" Qu Jianlei's body flickered, and his short dagger sliced open the artery on the side of the other man's neck.

"You..." Dong Ge stared at him in astonishment. He wanted to reach out and cover his neck, but his entire body was weak and limp.

He had lost far too much blood earlier.

Still seated, he slumped limply to the ground, unable to stop himself from asking, "You let me bandage myself, so why kill me?"

Qu Jianlei could not be bothered to answer him. Allowing him to bandage himself and sparing his life... were those the same thing? He then killed the last rider and began erasing the traces.

He tied the two motorcycles to either side of the rear wheel of his own motorcycle—the kind where the front wheel was lifted off the ground.

He did not leave the bodies behind either. He tied them to the motorcycle and carried them away, finding a place more than fifty kilometers away to bury them.

This haul was substantial. Other than Nutrient Solution, it had everything.

There were the two motorcycles, of course, as well as a Gauss Machine Gun, a Laser Assault Rifle, a Gauss Automatic Rifle, and two Laser Pistols.

The other noteworthy items were a considerable amount of ammunition and even an Energy Block.

There were also eight Silver Coins, directly resolving Qu Jianlei's current financial shortage.

He had struck it rich this time. He rode at full speed without any particular destination, going wherever the road took him.

He traveled during the day and rested and meditated at night, while his stock of Nutrient Solution dwindled rapidly.

He traveled for a full seven days. Just as all three fuel tanks were about to run dry, he found a Survivor camp.

This camp was not small, at least much larger than the Luan Shi Camp where he had stayed.

He rode into the camp on his motorcycle, towing two more behind it. It was impossible not to stand out.

Some people were displeased, but when they saw the Gauss Machine Gun mounted on the motorcycle and the Laser Assault Rifle on his body, they decisively chose not to provoke him.

Anyone who dared to roam alone while bringing three motorcycles along was definitely no easy target.

And these motorcycles had most likely been seized through murder and robbery.

Qu Jianlei found a general store and traded a Gauss Automatic Rifle and a long blade for food and water, then added some fuel.

He did not use Silver Coins, because here, bartering was more useful than Silver Coins and less likely to arouse suspicion.

The general store also saw that he was not someone to be trifled with, so the prices it offered were surprisingly fair.

After the trade, Qu Jianlei asked, "Do you buy motorcycles?"

The general store certainly bought motorcycles, but taking in such large items with Nutrient Solution would strain its resources.

"Then trade for meat and grain," Qu Jianlei said. He did not want to keep eating Nutrient Solution.

The general store said it did not have much meat or grain itself and would need two days to procure them.

There was no helping it. Small places were like that. In an outlying camp, how many people could afford meat and grain?

Qu Jianlei was not surprised. He could use the opportunity to repair the motorcycles.

The two motorcycles he had seized had crashed while in motion. Though sturdy and durable, they had sustained some minor malfunctions.

Qu Jianlei also wanted to modify his own motorcycle to make it easier to handle.

There was a privately owned repair shop in the camp that also took on side businesses, but the owner said he did not know how to repair motorcycles.

Qu Jianlei's response was: he did not need the man's help with repairs, only to borrow the tools.

He called it borrowing, but it was actually renting, and the shop also provided some raw materials.

Two days later, all three motorcycles had been repaired. Qu Jianlei's own motorcycle had undergone the greatest changes.

Most importantly, its output had increased. Under equal conditions, it could go two or three percent faster, and more crucially, it accelerated much faster from a standstill.

What Qu Jianlei sought was certainly not any so-called "push-back feeling"—these things did not even have seats with backrests.

Faster acceleration meant it was easier to flee, which concerned his odds of survival. No amount of importance placed on it could be excessive.

By then, the shop owner's eyes were filled with admiration. "Your mechanical skills are impressive, and your practical skills are even stronger!"

Qu Jianlei could not help feeling a little proud. Back on Blue Star, he had personally built a motorcycle from scratch.

The remnants of technology on the Wasteland were quite advanced, and the fuel was not gasoline or diesel, but a kind of mixed energy fluid.

Under such circumstances, being able to modify his own vehicle truly gave him a sense of accomplishment.

Of course, he had transferred some of the better parts from the two stolen motorcycles onto his own.

The performance of those two motorcycles had not diminished much, but his own motorcycle had become better.

Over those two days, the owner of the general store had also been gathering various supplies, but meat and grain truly were scarce.

In the end, he managed to obtain a large quantity of Nutrient Solution, fuel, and ammunition, barely enough to trade for two motorcycles.

To him, this was a major deal he might not encounter even once a year.

Qu Jianlei was somewhat stunned when he heard that. "Two motorcycles? I only intended to sell one."

The shop owner grew a little anxious. "Brother, the price I'm offering is very fair."

"Then take both," Qu Jianlei said indifferently. His own motorcycle had become stronger, and that was what mattered most.

His defensive capabilities had improved. As long as he had enough supplies, lying low and cultivating would be quite good.

However, he was indeed carrying a bit too many supplies, so he had no choice but to assemble another two-wheeled cart and hitch it to his motorcycle.

He stayed at this camp for a full five days. What was rare was that no one actually came looking for trouble.

This showed that once one's presence was powerful enough, it could effectively deter others even in the Wasteland.

When he leisurely left on his motorcycle, towing the cart behind him, everyone merely watched in silence.

Only after he had completely vanished into the distance did the general store owner go find the repair shop owner.

"Who exactly is this man? Did you find out anything?"

"He's not someone our camp can afford to think about." The repair shop owner shook his head, his face full of envy.

"He's definitely not some wanderer from the wilds. Just judging by his motorcycle repair skills, there probably aren't many even in Hong Liu Settlement who can compare to him."