Brown Farm! A New NPC Outpost!

The outpost's construction required tools.

And quite a lot of them.

For example, tongs and hammers for forging, axes for chopping trees, saws for breaking down lumber, as well as smaller tools like screwdrivers, screws, nails, and wrenches.

Without tools, many tasks would either be difficult to carry out or terribly inefficient even if they could be.

For example, the plastering trowels the players at the outpost were currently using to repair the walls were all wooden substitutes made by Damn, There Really Are Mosquitoes.

In fact, during the first few years of the Wasteland Era, such tools could easily be found in hardware stores, department stores, repair shops, and similar places.

Thanks to the advanced materials technology from before the war, the quality of these things was usually damn good.

However, two hundred years had now passed. Easily looted places had long since been picked clean, and resource-rich locations like department stores and repair shops had even become survivors' strongholds in the early years. There was no way much would have been left behind.

Still, nothing was absolute.

Just as scavengers could still find tiny amounts of pitiful supplies in the wasteland even two hundred and eleven years later, there would always be good things left behind by careless people.

Scavengers would usually sell these things to nearby survivor settlements, where they would be displayed on shelves as junk for passing caravans to pick through.

Chu Guang's plan was simple.

He intended to take two players and disguise themselves as a caravan, then head to the nearby Brown Farm to trade for the supplies the outpost needed.

Before setting out, they changed into the casual clothes they had picked up.

Chu Guang led Ye Shi and Fang Chang out through the south gate of Wetland Park. Avoiding 76th Street, they followed a battered little road southeast.

Bette Street and Brown Farm were about the same distance away. Their straight-line distance on the map was roughly three kilometers; the only difference was that one lay directly south, while the other was southeast.

As for why he had chosen Brown Farm, the reasons were simple.

First, no one there knew him or his background. Second, the road to Brown Farm was slightly easier to travel, with fewer ruins to cross.

Even so, walking through the wasteland meant the actual distance they had to cover was far more than just three kilometers.

The group stopped and started along the way, detouring around impassable ruins. They had to watch out not only for mutants, but also for ill-intentioned survivors keeping an eye on them.

At last, before nine in the morning, they arrived near their destination.

At the end of the muddy road stood a wide iron gate, flanked by walls built from piled concrete blocks.

The walls were not very high, less than three meters or so. A row of aluminum awnings and steel bars had been fitted along the top, apparently using industrial scrap to add extra height.

The dense bullet holes in the walls and the gallows outside hung with skeletons both made it clear that the people here were not to be trifled with.

A road sign by the highway showed that this place had once been a rustic farm resort before the war.

All signs indicated that survivors fleeing the city had occupied it during the early days of the collapse of order.

Unlike Bette Street.

Brown Farm's owner, Mr. Brown, was a landlord in the truest sense of the word, and unlike Bette Street, this place did not have a large population of free people.

The people living here had only two possible identities: they were either the farm owner's thugs or serfs.

But Chu Guang was not too worried that they would harbor malicious intentions. Any faction with a few fields to tend rarely attacked outsiders unprovoked. After all, those with shoes had to consider whether it was worth bullying the barefoot.

They stopped about ten meters from the iron gate.

Chu Guang raised his right fist, signaling for the two players behind him to stop.

And just as the group came to a halt, a pitch-black gun barrel extended from between the aluminum panels atop the wall.

Displaying a weapon meant they had no hostile intent.

It seemed this first contact had gone fairly smoothly. Chu Guang relaxed slightly.

The man standing atop the wall shouted aggressively.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop! Who are you people? What are you doing here?"

"We mean no harm. We just want to trade for a few things." Chu Guang signaled for the players behind him not to be nervous and calmly looked at the man before him.

"Trade for some things?"

The man quickly glanced at the handcart behind the three of them. His finger did not leave the trigger, and he continued to stare at Chu Guang with suspicion in his eyes.

"I haven't seen you before. Where are you from?"

Chu Guang gave the explanation he had prepared beforehand.

"From the wilderness. We recently migrated to this area."

The man hesitated before asking.

"Nomads?"

Chu Guang shrugged and gave him an ambiguous answer.

"Depends on how you look at it."

Nomads were not uncommon in the wasteland, especially in the suburbs, where they could even be considered fairly common.

These people generally did not enter the city. They mainly roamed the wilderness between cities.

They did not farm, living instead by herding and hunting. Following the trails of mutants and animal herds, they migrated from one region to another. Occasionally, they also did business like merchants, trading hunted prey and scavenged junk for daily necessities.

Of course, they occasionally did the business of robbery and looting as well.

There were no absolute good guys or bad guys in the wasteland. Under certain circumstances and conditions, anyone could become a raider.

The man did not immediately trust the three people at the gate, but the guns in their hands also kept him from making any rash moves.

Especially since he had no idea how many people there were in their "tribe."

"What goods do you have, and what do you plan to trade for?"

"Fifty kilograms of smoked jerky, twenty kilograms of smoked fish, and ten mutated hyena pelts... We need hardware tools and food grown in the fields. I guarantee that once the trade is complete, we'll leave and won't stay here a second longer."

Finally convinced that this group had come to trade, the man slowly withdrew the barrel of his gun from behind the barricade and spoke in a warning tone.

"Wait here. I'll go back and ask for instructions."

"Please do."

After saying that, Chu Guang quietly stood where he was and waited.

The two players behind him, meanwhile, whispered among themselves.

"This survivor settlement is pretty damn badass... I mean the architectural style. It's got that post-apocalyptic vibe."

"Yeah, looks like this update added quite a lot of content."

"By the way, is that the new NPC?"

"Probably. No clue what the hell he's babbling about, though."

"Who knows? I just know that expression of his looks pretty damn punchable..."

"I think so too."

Nobody liked having guns pointed at them.

Chu Guang did not like it either.

But he could not respawn, after all, so he had to exercise a little restraint when roaming outside.

He did not have to wait long before the iron gate ahead soon opened.

A wooden cart, pulled by a serf wearing ankle shackles, emerged from within the walls under the watch of two gunmen.

The cart was piled with sacks full of grain and wooden crates stuffed with tools.

The man who had shouted to Chu Guang from atop the wall earlier also walked out through the gate, his sharp gaze fixed on him.

"Liu Zhengyue."

"Chu Guang."

The two shook hands briefly, then quickly let go.

Looking at Chu Guang, Liu Zhengyue continued.

"I need to know what kind of meat you have loaded on your cart."

"The jerky is all mutated hyena meat. The smoked fish is catfish and crucian carp. You can inspect it however you like," Chu Guang said calmly.

He knew what the man was worried about.

Liu Zhengyue did not waste words. He stepped forward, lifted the plastic sheet covering the flatbed cart, and leaned in to inspect everything carefully.

The jerky, in particular, received special scrutiny.

He pulled a small knife from his waist, casually picked out a decent-looking strip of dried meat, cut off a thumb-sized piece, and tossed it to the serf pulling the cart.

"Eat it."

The serf did not dare resist. He hurriedly stuffed the jerky into his mouth, afraid that any delay would earn him a beating. After chewing for a while, he quickly said, "It's mutated hyena meat. No salt, just air-dried."

The lack of saltiness was normal. This was inland, after all. Liu Zhengyue said nothing more and waited quietly with his eyes half-closed.

About ten minutes passed.

When he saw that the serf showed no abnormal reaction, his brows relaxed slightly. He turned back to Chu Guang and held up his hands to indicate the numbers.

"One kilogram of jerky or smoked fish for two kilograms of green wheat, or two kilograms of goat-horn potatoes. Pelts for tools, one pelt for one tool."

Goat-horn potatoes were a type of root crop. They tasted somewhat like potatoes and were shaped like goat horns.

Because they were rich in carbohydrates and easy to store and cultivate, they were, along with green wheat, the staple food of survivors in the surrounding area.

Back on Bette Street, Chu Guang had seen survivors growing them outside their homes. The Yu family across from him, for example, had some.

Chu Guang had tried growing them before as well, but quickly gave up.

It was not that he could not grow them. It was just that he had to go scavenging every day, and with no one watching the place, the first crop had barely sprouted before some unknown family made off with it...

Buying some goat-horn potatoes to grow at the outpost might be a good idea.

"One kilogram of jerky should trade for at least five kilograms of food, half green wheat and half goat-horn potatoes. And these pelts are all top-quality. Each one should get at least three tools," Chu Guang said, shaking his head. "I've been to Bette Street. Don't think I don't know the market rates."

He had named that price only to haggle.

However, to Chu Guang's surprise, after hearing his offer, Liu Zhengyue did not haggle at all. Instead, he stared at him with a stunned expression.

Could he have named too high a price?

Just as Chu Guang was wondering whether he should take the initiative to compromise, the man before him finally came back to his senses. He looked at Chu Guang with a strange expression, then slowly nodded.

"...Deal."

Did these people never haggle when doing business?

Chu Guang was stunned at first, but his past experience in sales immediately made him realize what had happened, and he cursed furiously inside.

Damn it!

That bastard mayor!

He even dared to mess with food prices!

The two players beside him were completely bewildered throughout. Since they couldn't understand the language, they had no idea what the Administrator and this "native" were talking about.

But judging by that man's nod...

The deal had probably gone through?

They just didn't know why Lord Administrator looked so displeased.

Fifty kilograms of smoked jerky and twenty kilograms of smoked fish were exchanged for a total of three hundred and fifty kilograms of green wheat and horned potatoes, enough to fill more than a dozen burlap sacks.

The remaining ten pieces of fur were exchanged for thirty tools.

When selecting the tools, Chu Guang chose the better-quality ones, preferably alloy products made before the war.

They might have been antiques from two hundred years ago.

But in terms of quality, they were leagues ahead of the imitations forged from iron or plain steel by the Wasteland's native inhabitants.

Liu Zhengyue said nothing and did not care about Chu Guang picking through them.

Clearly, Brown Farm had plenty more of these tools. Most had probably been sold here by nearby scavengers, after being discarded by passing merchants.

Once the food had been weighed, it was all loaded onto the flatbed cart.

Liu Zhengyue shook Chu Guang's hand. A stiff smile finally appeared on his face, which had been tense with distrust.

"Welcome back anytime."

"I will."

"We also grow some mutated tobacco leaves here. Would you be interested?" Liu Zhengyue took a small pinch of dried tobacco from his pocket and tried to sell it to Chu Guang. "It relieves fatigue, and wrapping it around food can improve the flavor. Very useful stuff."

"Maybe next time. We don't have anything left to trade."

If he could, Chu Guang had originally wanted to buy one or two slaves to put to work, but just as he said, he had nothing left to trade.

Maybe next time?

"No, no, my friend. This one is free. Consider it a gift."

Smiling, Liu Zhengyue pressed it into Chu Guang's hand. This time, his smile was much more practiced than before.

Hearing that it was free, Chu Guang stopped refusing and accepted it decisively.

He did not smoke the stuff, but he could probably still sell it for one or two chips.

Smoke it himself?

Not a chance.

The trade was finally complete.

Chu Guang instructed Fang Chang to pull the flatbed cart and get moving. After one last handshake with Liu Zhengyue, he turned and followed along with Ye Shi.

On the way back, Chu Guang was in an excellent mood.

This trade could practically be called a bumper harvest.

The two players who had come with him were in equally good spirits, and they were currently chatting excitedly.

"So this place is called Brown Farm?"

Fang Chang: "Yeah, I remember that being the name too... If nothing unexpected happens, today's test should be for the trading system and a new neutral faction outpost! Just my guess, but they'll probably add a whole new merchant gameplay system next. Remember what the damn planners told us before? Wasteland OL's economy would be designed around a completely realistic supply-and-demand system, and exchanging supplies with other survivor settlements would be essential! I'm guessing this content will be added within the next two versions!"

Ye Shi: "Damn, now I'm really looking forward to the open beta!"

Fang Chang: "The open beta is probably still a long way off. This game company has big ambitions, so there's probably still a lot more content to test. But I think the game will already be packed with content by the closed beta stage, even before open beta!"

Ye Shi: "But speaking of which... are you sure Brother Guang can't hear you calling them the damn planners right here?"

Fang Chang sucked in a breath.

"Hiss... Fuck, now that you mention it, I'm scared. Brother Guang, I was wrong. You're my dad!"

Chu Guang: "..."

Forget it.

He would just pretend he had not heard that.

As a diligent and responsible NPC, Chu Guang did not join the two players' discussion. His gaze drifted naturally over the surrounding area, seemingly absentminded, but in truth he was watching every shadow that might conceal danger.

It was around ten in the morning, generally a relatively safe time.

But they still couldn't afford to let their guard down.

On the wasteland, anything could happen.

"Did you hear something?" Ye Shi, who had been shooting the breeze with Fang Chang, suddenly stopped walking and frowned as he looked around.

"A sound?"

Fang Chang froze for a moment. Though he hadn't heard anything, he stopped as well.

Chu Guang frowned and cautiously scanned the surroundings, his index finger unconsciously clicking off the safety on his gun.

He had heard it too...

The breathing of a mutant!

Chu Guang abruptly looked up toward the vine-covered building on the street ahead to the right. A hideous monster was crouched against the wall, its gray-black skin almost blending into the concrete. Its scarlet eyes were fixed motionlessly on them.

It had no legs. In their place were four long, explosive-looking arms. Its withered fingers were like hooks, anchoring its body firmly to the concrete wall.

The muscles in its chest rose and fell softly. A human leg bone hung from the corner of its blood-soaked mouth, and its hissing breaths carried a craving for flesh and blood.

Chu Guang's pupils suddenly constricted to pinpoints.

Crawler!

Honestly, the word count for two updates was already pretty generous. It wasn't short at all, okay!