Half an hour passed quickly, and the alarm rang.
Wang Zhong's narrowed eyes snapped open. Supporting his sore back, he slowly shuffled over to the computer.
He clicked the black icon, and the login screen appeared again.
[Welcome back to Era 40k: Mecha, Starry Sea. The frontier awaits your exploration.]
"Explore my ass. I'm here to be a miner." Wang Zhong grumbled as he clicked confirm.
His consciousness plummeted.
When he opened his eyes again, the refinery's eternally dim light and pungent smell of sulfur washed over him.
His body was still leaning against the corner where he'd logged out, and his legs had gone a little numb.
The other players around him woke up one after another, and the regional channel instantly flooded with messages:
[Soul of Cadia]: "Damn, I'm back again! This smell... It's worse than the garbage dump downstairs from my place!"
[Did White Scars speed today]: "Thinking about stealing ore again today has me weirdly excited. Is there something wrong with me?"
[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "After eighteen hours of rest in real time, physical fatigue has recovered by approximately 67%, and psychological adjustment has improved to... Never mind. Anyway, get ready to be wage slaves again."
Just as the players were stretching their limbs, preparing to face another day of whippings, someone suddenly shouted in the channel:
[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "Holy shit! Guys, look what I found! There's a new option in the UI settings!"
[Pain Perception Adjustment: Current 100% (Default) Adjustable range: 30%-100%]
[Note: To improve the gaming experience, the system has added this feature. However, please be aware that excessively low pain feedback may affect your judgment of the severity of injuries and lead to unnecessary loss of your carrier. The minimum setting is 30%.]
The channel fell silent for two seconds.
Then it exploded.
[The Emperor's tax must be paid even if the world ends]: "The damn devs have a heart after all? They actually added pain adjustment?"
[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "I'll give it a try... Set it to 30%... Done!"
"Wait, why is 30% the minimum? Can't I set it to one percent?"
[Schrodinger's Loyalist]: "Take what you can get, bro."
"Those two brothers who got shot yesterday went through it with pain at 100%. I can still remember their screams."
[Slaanesh Chosen Reserve]: "30% is great too! At least the whippings won't hurt as much! I still have whip marks on my ass from yesterday!"
[Nurgle Loving Father Loves All]: "Pain is a blessing... But less of it is fine too."
Wang Zhong also lowered his pain setting to 30%. The world instantly seemed a lot better. The refinery was still a living hell, but at least getting beaten no longer made him want to die.
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Listen up, everyone. We start work in five minutes. Follow my instructions."
"First, has everyone paid today's tax? Hurry up if you haven't. Don't get punished by the system."
"Second, when picking up ore today, try to stand close together and push the NPC workers toward the corners. That'll give the guys in front room to steal ore, and block the overseer's view too."
"Third, efficiency comes first. If you spot an opportunity, put it straight in your inventory. Don't hesitate."
"Fourth... and most importantly," Wang Zhong paused. "Now that we've logged off, that unease we felt when we realized this was the Warhammer World should have mostly faded, right?"
The channel filled with messages: "Been gone for ages," "It's just a game, what's there to be afraid of?" and "I only care about making money now."
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Good! Remember, no matter how brutal the game's story gets, it's still just a game."
"We're weak right now, but that doesn't mean we'll always be weak. Today's goal is to milk the Alru Group for all it's worth!"
"OK!" the channel answered in unison.
The players really did feel much more relaxed now.
The sunlight, takeout food, and soft beds of the real world had reminded them during their break that this was only a game.
Sure, the game was absurdly realistic, and dying would hurt, but... they could respawn! What was there to fear?
Besides, so what if it was the Warhammer World?
They were the Fourth Calamity! Give them a miner's pick, and they'd dig you a future!
An ear-piercing whistle sounded right on time.
The One-Eyed Overseer strode into the rest area with a Power Whip in hand. The savage scar across his face looked even more vicious in the dim light.
"Get up, you scum! A new day, a new round of misery! Get your asses to your stations!"
The players were herded toward the sorting area.
When they passed the meal window, everyone stopped in surprise. It was closed.
[Want Silent King's Crown but cannot afford]: "Wait, where's the nutrient paste? What about the water?"
An overseer cracked his whip at the ground by his feet, electricity sparking. "You don't get that until noon! Finish your morning shift first, then you get food! Got a problem with that?"
The players watched as the status indicators in their panels gradually shifted from [Mild Hunger] to [Moderate Hunger], and their stamina began to slowly drain. They cursed the Alru Group and the ancestors of everyone in it to the eighteenth generation.
"Goddamn capitalism... No, goddamn Hive City slavery!" Tax Brother muttered.
"Worse than working nine to nine, six days a week. At least that comes with lunch."
Xue Brother sighed.
"Labor rights in the Warhammer World?"
Wang Zhong sneered. "We're lucky just to be alive."
"Get to work. The sooner we finish, the sooner we eat, even if the food's crap."
The players took their places in front of the ore piles again.
But today, they looked different.
If yesterday they'd been bewildered and frightened newcomers, today they were full of plans and purpose.
Following Wang Zhong's instructions, the players arranged themselves into a loose formation of their own accord.
The taller players formed the outer layer, like a human wall, keeping the NPC workers outside. The nimble Mine Rats stood inside, tasked specifically with stealing ore.
Whenever the One-Eyed Overseer made his rounds, the players on the outside passed along signals with a cough, a shuffle of the feet, or other small movements.
The moment the overseer turned away, the inner players quickly bent down and slipped the high-purity Promethium Waste Ore they'd picked out into their inventories.
The whole operation flowed smoothly, their coordination so seamless it was as if they'd rehearsed it countless times.
[Regional Channel]
[Soul of Cadia]: "Overseer turning at three o'clock! Ten seconds!"
[Did White Scars speed today]: "Copy! Stole three already! Good purity, too!"
[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "West side's clear. I... just pocketed five chunks."
[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "Record: the average amount each person steals per round has increased by 37.2% compared to yesterday. The likelihood of the overseer noticing has dropped below 12%."
[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "I didn't stuff the ore in my mouth this time! Progress!"
Of course, things didn't go perfectly every time.
One player with the ID [Handicapped Party Please Spare Me] was so nervous that his hand shook while stealing ore. A fist-sized rock clattered to the ground and rolled right to the overseer's feet.
Time seemed to freeze.
The One-Eyed Overseer looked down at the ore, then up at the player's deathly pale face. A vicious grin slowly spread across his own.
"Well, well. Slipped, did you?"
He walked over slowly, dragging the Power Whip behind him as it crackled with electricity against the ground.
"I-I-I-I didn't mean to..."
[Handicapped Party Please Spare Me] was trembling all over.
"Didn't mean to?"
The overseer sneered. "So you did it on purpose, then?"
The whip rose.
Just as all the players thought blood was about to be spilled, an NPC worker nearby suddenly coughed and said hoarsely:
"My lord, that pile of ore was unstable to begin with. I nearly knocked a piece off myself just now."
The One-Eyed Overseer paused. He turned and stared at the old worker for several seconds, then looked at the rock on the ground. Finally, he snorted and lashed the ore pile beside him instead.
"Watch yourselves! If another piece falls, the whole team goes without food today!"
He walked off, grumbling.
The players stared at him, dumbfounded.
[Handicapped Party Please Spare Me] was practically crying in the channel:
"Thank you! Thank you, sir!"
[Loyal to the Emperor Forever]: "Remember this favor."
"Looks like there are good people among the NPCs... Or maybe people who can't stand the overseer."
The incident made the players more cautious, but the ore-stealing continued.
At noon, when the piercing end-of-shift whistle sounded, the players made their way to the food window, exhausted but excited.
Today's lunch was still a tube of grayish nutrient paste and a small pouch of recycled water. But after going hungry all morning, the players devoured it, even though it tasted as awful as ever.
"Damn, if this stuff were in the real world, even dogs wouldn't eat it," Tax Brother cursed as he chewed.
"In the Warhammer World, if a dog ate it, it might mutate into a Chaos Spawn," Xue Brother added.
As the players squatted in a corner to eat, an argument suddenly broke out in the distance.
Several people in different-colored uniforms came out of the refinery's core area. At their head was a middle-aged Bald Man with a grim expression.
He walked straight up to the One-Eyed Overseer and slapped a Dataslate against his chest.
"Old One-Eye! The batch of waste ore you turned in this morning yielded 15% less Promethium than usual! What's going on?"
The One-Eyed Overseer froze, took the Dataslate, and looked it over. His face darkened too.
"15% less? Impossible! We're sorting it the same way we always do!"
"The same way?"
The Bald Man sneered. "Then why is the yield down? Did you let those scum under you stash some away?"
"Bullshit!" the One-Eyed Overseer snapped. "My people get whipped every day. What guts would they have to stash anything?"
He spun around, his scarlet One-Eye sweeping over the players as they ate.
The players tensed, but all of them put on innocent, bewildered expressions. They'd stored all their ore in their inventories and were clean, so there was nothing to find if they were searched.
The One-Eyed Overseer strode over and grabbed the nearest player, [Handicapped Party Please Spare Me], by the collar.
He ran his hand over the player's rough work clothes but found nothing. Still clearly furious, he raised his hand and lashed out!
"Crack!"
Before you continue