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Constructing Outpost Base required tools.
And the required quantity was not small.
For example, fire tongs and hammers for forging, axes for chopping trees, saws for breaking down the wood, and other small tools such as screwdrivers, screws, nails, wrenches, and so on.
Without tools, many tasks were either difficult to initiate or, even if they were initiated, the efficiency was extremely low.
For instance, the plastering knives used by players at Outpost Base to repair the walls were makeshift versions made of wood.
Actually, if it was the first few years of the Wasteland Era, these tools could have been easily found in hardware stores, department stores, repair shops, and the like.
Thanks to the advanced material technology before the war, these items were usually of very good quality.
However, two hundred years had passed by now, and the easily lootable places had long been picked clean. Places rich in resources like department supermarkets and repair shops were even, in the early years, simply the lairs of the survivors; it was impossible for much to be left.
But nothing is absolute.
Just like how scavengers could still find a tiny bit of pitiable materials on the Wasteland 211 years later today, there would always be some good things left behind by careless people.
These items were usually sold by scavengers to nearby survivor settlements, laid out on shelves as garbage for the passing commercial teams to select from.
Chu Guang's idea was very straightforward.
He planned to pull two players dressed as a commercial team and head to the nearby Brown Farm for a trade, exchanging the materials needed by the Outpost.
Before leaving, they changed into casual clothes they had picked up.
Chu Guang, with Night Ten and Fang Chang, set out from the southern gate of Wetland Park, avoided Street No.76, and, following the broken road, moved toward the southeast.
The distance to Bet Street and Brown Farm was almost the same from here, about three kilometers straight-line distance on the map, the only difference being that one was due south while the other was in the southeast direction.
The reasons for choosing Brown Farm were simple.
One was that no one there knew him or his background. Another was that the route to Brown Farm was a bit easier to travel; there would be relatively fewer ruins to traverse.
But even so, traveling on foot across the Wasteland in reality meant covering a distance far greater than just three kilometers.
The group of people walked and stopped along the way, avoiding impassable ruins, and had to be wary of Variants as well as survivors with bad intentions.
Finally, before nine in the morning, the group arrived near their destination.
At the end of the muddy road stood a spacious iron gate, flanked by enclosing walls constructed from concrete stones.
The enclosing wall was not high, just under three meters, with rows of aluminum canopy and steel bars on top, seeming to have been raised externally with industrial waste.
The dense bullet holes on the wall, and the gallows with skeletons hanging outside the wall, unmistakably declared that the people here were not to be trifled with.
From the road signs by the highway, it could be seen that before the war, this was a farm-style agritainment.
Various signs indicated that at the beginning of the collapse of order, survivors fleeing from the urban areas occupied this place.
Unlike Bet Street.
The owner of Brown Farm, Mr. Brown, was a real landlord, and unlike Bet Street, there were not many free citizens here.
Those living here had only two identities: either they were the farm owner's henchmen or serfs.
However, Chu Guang was not too worried about the other party harboring malicious intent — any force with two pieces of land to farm seldom initiated attacks on outsiders; after all, those wearing shoes always had to weigh whether it was worth bothering the barefooted.
They stopped about ten meters away from the iron gate.
Chu Guang raised his right fist, signaling the two players behind him to stop.
At the same time the group stopped, a dark barrel of a gun also protruded from between the aluminum plates on the enclosing wall.
Showing weapons meant there was no hostility.
It seemed this contact was successful, and Chu Guang slightly relaxed.
The man standing on the wall shouted in a fierce tone.
"Hey, hey, hey, stop! Who are you? What are you doing here?"
"We mean no harm. We just want to trade some things with you," Chu Guang signaled the players behind him not to be nervous as he calmly looked at the man in front of him.
"Trade some things?"
The man quickly glanced at the handcart behind the three of them without moving his trigger finger away, still looking at Chu Guang with a suspicious gaze.
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"I haven't seen you before, where are you from?"
Chu Guang brought out the story he had prepared in advance.
"We come from the Wasteland, we've recently migrated to this area."
The man hesitated as he asked,
"Nomads?"
Chu Guang shrugged, giving him an ambiguous answer.
"Depends on how you understand it."
Nomads were not uncommon in the Wasteland, particularly in the suburban regions; in fact, they could be considered quite common.
These people usually wouldn't enter urban areas, mainly roaming the wilderness between cities.
They did not engage in agriculture, living off herding and hunting instead, chase the tracks of Variants and beast swarms, relocating from one region to another. Occasionally, they would also trade like merchants, bartering hunted game and picked-up garbage for daily necessities.
Of course, they sometimes engaged in looting and plundering as well.
On the Wasteland, there were no absolute good or evil people; in certain environments and under specific conditions, anyone could become a Looter.
The man didn't immediately trust the three people at his door, but the guns in their hands made him reluctant to act rashly,
especially without knowing how many more were in their "tribe."
"What goods do you have, and what do you want to trade for?"
"50 kilograms of smoked meat, 20 kilograms of smoked fish, and 10 skins of mutated hyenas... we need hardware tools and grain grown from the fields. I promise we'll leave immediately after the trade is done, not staying a second longer."
Finally believing that these people were here to trade, the man slowly withdrew the gun barrel that was sticking out of the cover and warned,
"Wait here, I'll go back and ask for instructions."
"Please do."
After finishing his words, Chu Guang quietly stood in place waiting.
And the two players behind him were whispering to each other,
"This Survivor Settlement is pretty impressive... I'm talking about the architectural style; it's got that post-apocalyptic flair."
"Indeed, seems like there's quite a bit of new content in this update."
"Is that the new NPC?"
"Must be, just no idea what he's jabbering about."
"Who knows, all I know is that expression looks like it deserves a beating..."
"I think so too."
Nobody likes having a gun pointed at them.
Neither did Chu Guang.
But since he couldn't respawn, he still had to exercise some restraint while out and about.
He didn't have to wait too long as the iron gate soon opened.
A wooden cart driven by a serf in shackles came out, watched by two Gunmen, from within the Enclosing wall.
The cart was loaded with sacks full of grain and toolboxes crammed into wooden frames.
The man who had yelled at Chu Guang from the Enclosing wall also came out of the gate, his gaze sharp upon him.
"Liu Zhengyue."
"Chu Guang."
The two briefly shook hands and 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 smoked meat is all mutated hyena, and the smoked fish includes catfish and carp; you can check it yourself," Chu Guang said calmly.
He knew what the man was worried about.
Liu Zhengyue walk up without any idle talk and lifted the plastic tarp on the cart, leaning in to meticulously inspect the goods.
The smoked meats were an especially key focus of inspection.
He took a small blade from his waist, casually selected a decent-looking piece of dried meat, cut off a thumb-sized piece, and threw it to the serf pulling the cart.
"Eat it."
The serf didn't dare resist, hastily stuffing the dried meat into his mouth, fearing that any delay would result in a beating. After chewing for a moment, he hastily said,
"It's mutated hyena meat, no salt, just air-dried."
The absence of salt taste was normal; after all, this was inland. Liu Zhengyue said nothing more and quietly waited with his eyes half-closed.
About ten minutes passed.
Seeing that the serf showed no abnormal reaction, his eyebrows relaxed slightly as he turned back to Chu Guang, gesturing with his hands as he spoke numbers.
"1 kilogram of smoked meat or fish for 2 kilograms of green wheat, or 2 kilograms of goat horn potatoes. Fur for tools, one for one."
Goat horn potatoes are a kind of tuber crop, somewhat similar in taste to potatoes with a shape that resembles a goat's horn.
Rich in carbohydrates and convenient for both storage and cultivation, they are a major staple, much like green wheat, for the survivors in the vicinity.
Previously on Bet Street, Chu Guang had seen survivors planting this stuff right outside their homes, like the Yu Family across from him.
Chu Guang had also tried planting them before but had soon given up.
It wasn't that he couldn't grow them, but because he had to go scavenging every day and there was no one to watch the house, the first sprouts barely emerged before they were pilfered by someone…
It might be a good idea to buy some goat horn potatoes to plant back at the Outpost Base.
"1 kilogram of smoked meat should at least be exchanged for five kilograms of food, half green wheat and half goat horn potatoes. Also, these furs are top-quality. One should get three tools at least," Chu Guang shook his head, "I've been to Bet Street. Don't think I don't know the prices."
He quoted this price only as a starting point for negotiation.
However, to Chu Guang's surprise, after hearing his offer, Liu Zhengyue didn't haggle but watched him with a dumbfounded look.
Did he quote too high?
Just as Chu Guang pondered whether to concede a bit, the man in front of him finally snapped back to reality, oddly looking at Chu Guang and nodding slowly.
"… Deal."
These people don't bargain when trading?
Chu Guang was initially stunned, but his previous sales experience made him understand the situation almost instantly, and he mentally burst into curses.
Damn it!
That damned town Chief!
He even dares to mess with the food prices!
The two players nearby were confused throughout the entire process; since they couldn't understand the language, they also couldn't comprehend the exchange between the Manager and this "native."
But seeing him nod...
The deal must have been struck?
They just didn't know why the Manager's expression was not very good.
50 kilograms of dried smoked meat and 20 kilograms of smoked fish were exchanged for a total of 350 kilograms of green wheat and goat horn potatoes, filling up more than a dozen sacks.
The remaining ten pieces of fur were exchanged for thirty pieces of tools.
When selecting tools, Chu Guang chose those of better quality, preferably old alloy products produced before the war.
Don't be fooled by their age; they date back two hundred years.
In terms of quality, they were leagues beyond the imitation items forged from iron or pure steel by the indigenous people of the Wasteland.
Liu Zhengyue said nothing, indifferent to Chu Guang's selective process.
Clearly, the farm had a pile of these tools, most likely sold there by nearby scavengers who pick up trash, with the leftovers picked over by passing merchants.
The grain was weighed and loaded onto the cart.
Liu Zhengyue and Chu Guang shook hands, and on that tense face, due to distrust, finally emerged a slight, stiff smile.
"Welcome to come again."
"I will."
"We also grow some mutated tobacco leaves here; do you need any?" Liu Zhengyue pulled out a small handful of dried tobacco leaves from his pocket and offered them to Chu Guang, "They can relieve fatigue, and when wrapped in food, they can enhance flavor, very useful."
"Maybe next time, we have nothing left to trade."
If possible, Chu Guang would have liked to buy one or two slaves to command, but as he said, he had nothing left to trade.
Maybe next time?
"No, no, no, my friend, this pack is a gift, on the house."
With a smile on his face, Liu Zhengyue stuffed it into Chu Guang's hand, this time his smile much more practiced than before.
Hearing it was a gift, Chu Guang no longer declined and decisively accepted it.
Even though he didn't smoke the stuff, he thought it should still be good for trading in for a chip or two.
Smoke it himself?
No way.
The deal was finally complete.
Chu Guang instructed Fang Chang to head out with the cart, shook hands with Liu Zhengyue one last time, then turned and followed Night Ten.
On the return journey, Chu Guang was in a very good mood.
The trade could be described as bountiful.
The two players who came with him felt good too, and were excitedly discussing right now.
"Is this place called Brown Farm?"
Fang Chang: "Hmm, I remember that name too... If I'm not mistaken, today's test should be about the trading system, along with a new neutral faction base! It's just my guess, but there should be a new update coming with a fresh merchant gameplay, do you remember what the Dog Planner told us before? Wasteland OL's economic system will be designed according to a completely realistic supply and demand system, and exchange of goods with other survivor settlements is essential! I estimate this content will be updated within the next two versions!"
Night Ten: "Damn, now that you mention it, I'm really looking forward to the official release!"
Fang Chang: "The official release is probably still a ways off, this game company is ambitious and I guess there's a lot more content to test. However, I feel like even before the official release, the content in beta should already be very rich!"
Night Ten: "That said... are you sure Brother Guang can't hear us talking about the Dog Planner here?"
Fang Chang gasped in alarm.
"Shit... now you mention it, I'm getting anxious. Brother Guang, I'm sorry, you're the boss!"
Chu Guang: "..."
Forget it.
Let's pretend he didn't hear it.
As a diligent and responsible NPC, Chu Guang did not participate in the players' discussion but cast his gaze casually around, seemingly wandering without care, but in fact scrutinizing every shadow where danger might lurk.
It was around ten in the morning, a relatively safe time.
But one should never be too careless.
Anything could happen in the Wasteland.
"Did you guys hear anything?" Night Ten, who had been chatting with Fang Chang, suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked around with a frown.
"Sounds?"
Fang Chang paused, didn't hear anything but stopped anyway.
Chu Guang's brows furrowed as he glanced around alertly, his index finger unconsciously flicking off the safety on his gun.
He heard it too...
The breathing of Variants!
Chu Guang's head snapped up, looking toward the vine-covered buildings on the right front, where a repulsive creature was crawling on the wall, its grayish-black skin almost blending into the wall, with scarlet eyes staring motionlessly at them.
It had no legs, replaced by four long, powerful arms; its desiccated fingers, like hooks, were firmly secured on the concrete wall.
The muscles on its chest rose and fell gently, its bloody mouth clutching a human leg bone, its hissing breath betraying a craving for flesh.
Chu Guang's pupils shrunk to a pinpoint.
A Crawler!