Day 3: The Scars of the Wasteland
A black, armored RV cut across the scarred remains of the highway. According to the system's logs, this region was known as the Zombie Wasteland. It felt like a frozen, desolate no-man's land—dry, bitter, and hollow.
The horizon stretched on forever. Along the way, Lin Hui spotted several other Lv.2 vehicles: taxis, vans, buses, and even a helicopter thrumming overhead. By the third day, those still drawing breath usually possessed decent transportation. Those with bicycles, scooters, or wheelchairs had either perished or tethered themselves to stronger players like parasites.
[Region C-996 Survivor Count: 3,001,314]
In just two days, 70% of the population had been wiped out. The Grey Mist continued its relentless crawl from behind, a silent shepherd driving the survivors forward. No one could afford to stop.
Lin Hui checked his terminal.
[Time Remaining Until Grey Mist Arrival: 14:35:20]
[Mist Speed: 30 km/h]
[Current Vehicle Speed: 80 km/h]
Lin Hui sat back, one hand on the wheel and the other holding an ice-cold cola. He took a crisp, satisfying sip. With [Indestructible] tires and an [Infinite Fuel] engine, the road conditions were irrelevant to him. Whether it was a belt of shattered glass or a bed of caltrops, he plowed through them all. The chassis barely vibrated; instead, the obstacles were ground into dust beneath his wheels.
"But this isn't enough," he muttered.
The RV needed to evolve. The news of a player reaching Lv.3 had planted a seed of urgency in his gut. He exhaled and pulled up his personal status.
Personal Status
Name: Lin Hui
Race: Human
Condition: Healthy
Sanity (San): 100/100 (Note: Below 30 triggers suicidal ideation; below 10 is total madness)
Spirit: 5 (Average adult; dictates Sanity resistance and recovery)
Physique: 5 (Combined Strength, Speed, and Defense)
Yesterday's hunt had been productive—over two hundred zombies slain. While Universal Fuel was the most common drop, followed by food, medicine remained incredibly rare. Currently, his medical stash consisted of:
Antibiotics (2 bottles)
Fever Medicine (1 bottle)
Stomach Medicine (1 bottle)
His RV was becoming cluttered with supplies. He wouldn't be able to fit much more if he kept hunting at this rate. With that in mind, he pulled out the Lv.3 Vehicle Upgrade Blueprint. The system presented two paths:
Upgrade Options (Lv.2 → Lv.3)FeatureOption A (Common)Option B (Perfect)Cost70 Steel, 10 Precision Elements100 Armor Steel, 10 Precision Elements, 1 Fire Control ChipWeaponry7.62mm Machine Gun25mm Heavy Chain AutocannonSpace+20% VolumeIncrease to 20 Cubic MetersDefense+10% ArmorIncrease Defense to 200WeightStandardIncrease to 20 Tons
Lin Hui didn't hesitate for a second: Option B. A 7.62mm gun was fine for players, but it took a burst to down a zombie. A 25mm Autocannon? That was a god-slayer. One shell would turn a zombie's head into mist; two would punch through an armored car.
He already had the Precision Elements and the Fire Control Chip from the helicopter crash. However, he was missing 90 units of Aviation Armor Steel.
Lin Hui frowned. This grade of steel only came from dismantling military vehicles, armored bank trucks, or aircraft. Most player vehicles simply didn't yield it.
"Time to check the Regional Channel."
The Rise of the Guilds
The Regional Channel was no longer a chaotic mess of screams. A hierarchy had formed. Speaking was now monetized: ten free messages a day, after which each post cost 1 unit of Universal Fuel. For those wanting to grab attention, "Special Effects" (Bold/Red text) cost 20 units, while a "Global Sticky" cost a staggering 50 units.
At the top of the screen, several bold recruitment ads rolled by:
[Batian Alliance] (Leader: Zhao Tianba): "The #1 Guild is recruiting! I'm Lv.3 with Autopilot unlocked. Seeking players with heavy trucks, tanks, or helis. Members get fuel and 'servants.' Only elites; trash need not apply!"
[Rose Society]: "Female players only. Sisters, men can't be trusted. Armed and independent. The only sanctuary in the wasteland."
[Iron-Blood Heavy Industries]: "Buying all blueprints and specialty parts at high prices. We have the best mechanics and gunsmiths. Join us, and your ride never dies."
[Evil Wolf Guild]: "Only the weak huddle together. The strong are predators. Recruiting outlaws for high-stakes raiding. Bounty offered for coordinates of 'Fat Sheep' players."
The "Four Great Guilds" had effectively carved up the social landscape. Lin Hui watched the ads with a pensive look. Zhao Tianba's Autopilot was a massive threat, but he had no intention of joining anyone.
According to Survival Rule #2, the owner is the absolute sovereign inside their vehicle. Items cannot be stolen unless the owner dies. This meant he could hire "employees" with zero risk to his sovereignty.
He posted his own trade request multiple times:
[WANTED: Aviation Armor Steel. Will trade items. Private message for price.]
An hour passed. He managed to buy only 20 units, costing him 5 units of Universal Fuel. The seller gave him a heads-up: Iron-Blood and Batian Alliance were aggressively cornering the market on high-end materials.
The giants were monopolizing the top-tier steel to ensure they stayed ahead. This was why Zhao Tianba hit Lv.3 so fast—the power of a crowd.
"Fine. If I can't get the steel yet, I'll get ammo."
His Axe-Pistol was down to its final round. The lack of security was gnawing at him. He posted again:
[WANTED: Axe-Pistol Specialized Ammo. Permanent buy.]
Within ten seconds, a notification pinged. A private message from a female player.
[Su Qingqian]: "Do you have antibiotics? If so, I'll trade nine specialized Axe-Pistol rounds for them."