Chapter 783.3: Daddy Scammer Back At It Again

At the edge of the crowd, several engineers from North Island Heavy Industry were also watching through binoculars, occasionally laughing and exchanging comments.

“That giant crab is from Shelter 70?”

“Strictly speaking, it’s an improved version of a design from Shelter 100.”

“Tch. Those old-timers really had plenty of treasures hidden away.”

“The landing ships still need improvement... Would lowering landing craft from both sides be faster than deploying them through the center?”

“It’s probably too late to change the production plan now. The New Alliance landing forces already have six ships in service, and another two are due for delivery by the end of the month.”

“Fuck, having more resources than you can use feels amazing.”

“What about improving the existing design? For example, installing a row of elevators along the sides?”

“You have to consider how changing equipment affects the soldiers’ training...”

This exercise involved more equipment than any previous one. Several Cloudfly ornithopters even skimmed low above the sea, while Lightning and Thunderbolt aircraft cruised high above the clouds.

Their opponent was only a group of Mutant Humans, at most armed with some weapons Chalas had provided. Using so much high-tech equipment against them felt somewhat like firing a cannon at a mosquito.

As their jets swept low overhead through bursts of white mist, the spectators on the shore repeatedly broke into cheers and applause. Almost no one doubted the final victory that was about to come.

Watching the landing force complete its deployment, Old White stood near the shore, glanced at the time on his VM, and grinned before calling over the communications channel, “Exercise complete! Good work, everyone! Remember to clean up your trash before you leave. Rewards will be settled shortly.”

When training NPCs, he was usually a little stricter. However, there was no need to treat players the same way. At worst, if they died, it was only three days till they came back. The fact that these guys could take an exercise seriously, refrain from screwing around, and avoid dropping the ball was already worth encouraging.

Without exaggeration, exercises like that were something only the Burning Corps and Storm Corps could really pull off. Otherwise, they had to rely on NPC units.

The moment the commander’s voice came through, the communications channel erupted in cheers of dismissal.

“Pack it up!”

“Shaved ice! I want shaved ice!”

“Fuck, I lost one of my shoes while running just now. Who’s coming back with me to look for it...”

“Hahahaha! Dumbass! Are you trying to kill me laughing?”

“My dick is laughing!”

“Idiots...”

As the exercise ended, the distant landing ships turned toward the harbor on the southern side of the island, while the players made their way ashore in groups of three or five. Seeing Old White standing near the edge of the training area, Coincidence hurried over with an excited expression and asked, “Boss! How was it this time?”

Old White laughed. “Not bad!”

No Family snapped, “Fuck! Just ‘not bad’?!”

“Can’t let you get cocky.” Old White patted the brother on the shoulder and smiled. “Whatever it is, this result was already pretty good.”

At a beach restaurant not far from the exercise zone and military base, Mosquito lounged in a deck chair, drinking coconut juice and slacking off while admiring the occasional beautiful woman walking past. Every so often, he glanced at the copy of Survivors’ Daily in his hand, which was mostly there as a prop.

Goblin Technology counted as one of North Island Heavy Industry’s major partners. The 37mm turret and autoloading system on the Alligator had both been redesigned by him. To avoid missing landing day, Mosquito had specially rushed from the Northern Front to the Southern Front, leaving the card-dueling tournament in Gwent Town to one of his Rat Clan underlings.

That Rat Clan youngster really was a genius. He had imitated Mosquito’s duck-like voice and managed the tournament brilliantly, successfully provoking the Wislanders and the useless fools from Ideal City into competing with each other.

Cards that cost less than 0.01 Silver to produce had not only sold like crazy among NPCs, but even some clueless new players had started collecting them as easter eggs.

Of course, all of that was merely a side episode during wartime. No matter how expensive a card became, it could never match the profit margin of arms dealing.

Seeing someone familiar lounging in the deck chair, Ample Time tossed his helmet aside, casually sat down in the chair next to him, and joked, “You’re not going up there for a couple of laps?”

“Come on, flying skills are already engraved into my genetic sequence. I designed that thing myself. Training or not makes no difference.”

“You’re still the best at bragging.” Ample Time laughed and cursed at him, then turned toward the waitress in a maid outfit, smiled, and nodded. Taking the menu she handed him, he ordered himself a mojito.

Recently, North Island had gained many things that previously could only be found in Dawn City. Although the main purpose was to earn money from the players, it also helped spread the artistic achievements of Teng Teng’s Hut.

The local residents weren’t particularly resistant to these foreign cultural imports, whether refined or vulgar. Compared with the oppressive life under Chalas, every day after the civil war felt like living in a dream.

With an acquaintance now sitting beside him, Mosquito felt a little embarrassed to openly flirt with the NPC girl. In the end he lowered his head and pretended to seriously read the newspaper he had nearly crumpled to pieces.

He hadn’t realized anything at first. But the moment he finally read what the headline actually said, he jumped in shock. “Holy shit... that’s some serious money!”

The Xilande Empire had spent a billion Silver ordering a 100,000 ton battleship from North Island Heavy Industry!

Good lord.

Even the New Alliance didn’t have anything this outrageous, yet the ancient geezer in the Poro Province was going to get one?!

Of course, the New Alliance’s lack of such a ship was mostly because it genuinely didn’t need one. For one thing, during its battles against the Army, the New Alliance had already developed several more economical and effective tactics.

There were phase cannons capable of disabling shields and anti-gravity systems with a single shot, guided weapons that slowed during terminal approach, boarding actions, and so on... Even something as low-tech as balloons could disable an airship’s propellers under the right circumstances.

The Southern Sea New Alliance had built a strange monster like the Ocean Edge Battleship purely because it treated the Army as a hypothetical enemy without ever having actually fought them.

Objectively speaking, the thing was certainly powerful. It just wasn’t economical. It was like a sword with diamonds embedded in the hilt.

Perhaps it really did improve their chances of winning. For example, by distracting their opponent. However, the price of a single piece of equipment there could buy equipment for an entire knightly order!

Ample Time glanced at the newspaper in Mosquito’s hand and laughed. “You only found out today? I knew the day before yesterday.”

Mosquito coughed and made an excuse. “Ahem... Business has been busy lately, so I haven’t really been following NPC news. But speaking of which, why hasn’t anyone been discussing this thing on the forum?”

Ample Time casually replied, “The argument over battleship effectiveness was already settled before the final battle for North Island. The facts proved that the thing can take a few more torpedoes than a destroyer, and its sinking CG is definitely spectacular... Other than that, what is there to discuss? Higher-thrust plasma engines are our real priority for research and development. Once the outer-space map opens in the future, we’ll be able to use them there too. It’s not like you don’t know that.”

Ignoring him, Mosquito kept reading the newspaper, his eyes growing more excited the longer he looked. “A billion Silver, 50,000,000 paid upfront and 10,000,000 to be paid every month... and the reconstruction loan the authorities received from the Xilande Empire has increased to 30,000,000,000! Damn, how is this Xilande Empire so rich? Seriously, are you sure you don’t want to go in a little deeper?”

“Why does it sound so fucking obscene when you say it?!” Seeing Mosquito staring at him eagerly, Ample Time rolled his eyes. He continued after some time, “And where do you think the Xilande Empire got all those Silver?”

Mosquito grinned and took a sip of coconut juice. “That’s not hard to guess. You guys gave it to them, right?”

Ample Time smiled faintly. “If you already know, why ask?”

Back when they had first fought their way into Port Gallon, that slave-trading harbor had only handled a few hundred million Dinars in total imports and exports per year. But after they turned the livestock there into people, Port Gallon’s monthly trade volume alone exceeded that amount.

Even a useless fool like Wutuo Xilande could now lie around doing nothing and collect tens of millions of Silver in tariffs.

Simply occupying a few pieces of land was meaningless. If they wanted to earn more Silver from NPCs, they had to turn more NPCs from livestock into people.

In fact, that was precisely Wasteland Online’s hidden reward mechanic. Anyone who spent a little time understanding the game rules designed by Light could easily notice it.

Ample Time’s Baiyue Strait Development Company had been doing exactly that for a long time, and so far, it had been doing quite well.

It wasn’t only Port Gallon. The survivors of Tiger State and Panther State were gradually beginning to live a little more like human beings as well. They still couldn’t compare with survivors in Dawn City, but at least they were living somewhat more decently than before.

“That said, I still feel like your plan to change them by making them richer might just be wishful thinking. I’ve never been to the Poro Province, but I did meet a few people from there while I was in the Guardian Manor Plains.” Looking out at the sunlit beach, Mosquito sighed while drinking his coconut juice. He thought for a long while but still couldn’t figure out how to describe the Rat Clan follower he had taken in.

After all, what he was doing was basically a raising sim.

Most players treated NPCs pretty well. Teng Teng practically raised Hua Hua like a daughter, even though she was much taller.

As for Falling Feather, that went without saying. Little Feather wasn’t even human.

Mosquito himself wasn’t much different. He had always treated his followers well and had given the Rat Clan youngster plenty of financial support.

But no matter how much money that guy saved, how many books he read, or how much he learned, there was always something strange about him. He didn’t feel like a normal person.

“It’s like... when the programmers were editing that guy’s code, they maliciously deleted two critical lines. Little Feather and Yinyin both think of themselves as human, but that guy doesn’t think of himself as a person at all. So his personality isn’t exactly unusual, but he just never quite fits in with everyone around him. Of course, I mean outside of work.”

Ample Time laughed. “You’re not his dad. Why do you care how he lives?”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not. I’m just here for fun. Wherever something entertaining happens, that’s where I go.” Mosquito grinned and tossed the newspaper with its sensational headline toward Ample Time. “What about you? Are you planning to become their godfather?”

“Right. Maybe you should take a guess. Did they buy this broken toy because they plan to use it against the Wislanders... Or do you think they’re planning to use it against you?” Mosquito grinned.

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