Can't communicate?
Can't understand each other?
For Light Chu, it wasn't a problem at all.
As an NPC, all he needed to do was to master a few simple phrases to fulfill gamers' demands for game functions.
For example, the simplest ones like buying and selling, which didn't require complex vocabulary to learn.
And what if gamers spoke in slang that he couldn't understand?
Ignore it.
After all, even in a fully immersive virtual reality game, not every NPC could possess complete realistic intelligence.
It was reasonable.
Therefore, Light Chu didn't expect Summer Salt to learn Mandarin. He only required her to grasp a few basic words and fixed sentence patterns.
However, to his surprise, he had already set his expectations quite low, but her performance still fell short.
"...When a customer comes to the shop, you should say, 'Hello, I'm Summer Salt, the owner of the armory. How can I assist you?' When you hear 'I want to buy something,' point to the menu and answer, 'See for yourself.' When you hear 'I need to maintain my firearms,' extend your hand and reply, 'Bring it here'?"
What on earth was that?
Clutching the piece of paper in her hand, Summer Salt wore a distressed expression and sought help, looking at Light Chu, who was sitting on the chair.
Although each word was marked with pronunciation, she still couldn't adapt to these strange pronunciations.
Even though they sounded like human language.
Noticing Summer Salt looking at him, Light Chu shifted his gaze away from the computer screen, turned his head, and looked at her.
"Have you learned it?"
Summer: "Not yet..."
Light Chu: "Then why are you staring at me? Keep practicing."
Summer: "..."
For a moment, she suddenly felt that bearing a child might be easier, but for some reason, this person showed no interest in her at all.
Am I that ugly?
Not really.
Feeling frustrated, Summer Salt pinched her red hair tips. She was quite confident in her looks. For example, the captain had pursued her for a while.
But she didn't choose him.
Life as cannon fodder was too harsh, facing the threat of death every day. Her dream was to marry into the inner city of Boulder City and live the life of a wealthy woman.
Actually, it wasn't impossible.
What if one day she received a mission to escort a VIP, and the plot of a novel unfolded where the beautiful woman saved the hero?
But unfortunately, forget about escorting VIPs, their marginal team couldn't even handle tasks near the Highway Ring No.2. They could only be sent to desolate areas like this for "blind box" operations.
And now...
Her dream life was even more out of reach.
Who would want a cripple?
Especially a cripple who had been captured by barbarians...
Just as Summer Salt felt desolate about her uncertain fate, she heard a light cough from beside her.
"Try to control your expression a bit."
"Huh?"
Summer Salt looked puzzled.
So, I was zoning out, huh?
Seeing her subconscious reaction, Light Chu, sitting on the chair, couldn't help but feel speechless.
Letting out a sigh, he paused for a moment and said expressionlessly, "I'll give you two hours from now. I'll test you then."
"If there's still no progress, perhaps the neighboring Brown's farm would be more suitable for you. They happen to need serfs."
"Perfect. I can make some extra income too."
...
It is currently winter, and Brown's farm doesn't need any serfs. Instead, they will dispose of a group of old folks who can't work or defective ones with missing limbs by the end of the month.
No one would want a crippled mercenary for free.
As for beauty, that's even more ridiculous. Even the local tycoons on Bette Street can afford to buy clones with exquisite features that would make even celebrities jealous. How much can a soul that is strong on the outside but uncouth and barbaric be worth?
This is the Wasteland after all.
Selling this guy was just a casual remark from Light Chu's side.
Just scaring her a bit to give her some motivation.
Even if this gurl is really dumb enough to not even memorize these few pages of lines, he wouldn't go as far as selling her as a slave.
At most, he would just kick her out.
In fact, during the time he spent interacting with her, Light Chu found her quite interesting. Talking nicely to her was useless, but a couple of threats made her back down instantly, obediently memorizing the lines.
What a waste.
Shaking his head, Light Chu continued browsing the internet. He just realized that his Steam account was still active, so it was a good way to pass the time.
The next morning, Light Chu woke up and opened the gamer list. He unlocked the login permissions for the gamers in bulk and led them to the surface.
"Respected Governor, where is the lady from yesterday?" Standing next to the governor, Tomorrow respectfully asked.
"Are you talking about Summer Salt? Her injuries were quite serious, so she needs a few days of rest. I talked to her last night, and she agreed to join our cause. Once she recovers, she will be in charge of the weapons and equipment preparation at the outpost."
Of course, Light Chu didn't mention that he ended up carrying her to the adjacent room after she struggled to memorize the lines until two or three in the morning. Most likely, she was still sound asleep.
After hearing the governor's reply, Tomorrow's eyes instantly lit up.
New information!
The new NPC's name is Summer Salt!
She should be the owner of an armory or have a similar profession!
Silently noting these two pieces of information, Tomorrow planned to update all this information in his post once he logged off today.
Light Chu could naturally guess what he was thinking; otherwise, he wouldn't have provided such detailed information.
Continuing his role as an NPC, Light Chu brought the gamers to the open space of the sanatorium and gave a brief motivational speech before announcing the disbandment.
After two days of getting accustomed to the game's pace, the newly joined gamers had already adapted well and didn't need his commands anymore.
Looking at the rising flames and black smoke outside the construction site, as well as the gamers climbing up and down the scaffolding, he suddenly felt like an old farmer raising ducks.
Every day, his job was to drive the ducks out of the cage and let them roam freely outside on their own. When it got dark, he would gather them back into the cage, then tally up the day's harvest and how much weight the ducks had gained. And if possible, he would pluck a few feathers from them according to a plan.
Of course, that's not entirely accurate to say.
After all, most of the tools for their work were provided by himself, and the dried meat they ate was mostly obtained by his hunting.
When he thought about it this way, he realized he had put in quite a bit of effort.
Maybe?
As he stood in front of the construction site, pondering what to do today, Nighten, Eleven, proactively approached him.
"Respected Governor!" He saluted respectfully and looked eager to try. Very skillfully, he took the initiative to speak, "Are we going hunting today? When are we leaving?"
Light Chu was slightly taken aback but nodded.
"...Now."
Well then.
These gamers have become quite proactive. They've already learned to assign tasks to me?
But Light Chu didn't say anything.
After all, he had actually planned to go out for a stroll and bring back some game to smoke.
With Nighten, Light Chu returned to the sanctuary and put on the tactical belt he had taken from that dead mercenary. He inserted the handgun he had picked up into it and then stuffed two 5mm pistol magazines as spare ammunition.
His main weapon was still his 9mm iron pipe rifle, along with the Excalibur of Physics - a steel pipe that could pry doors and hammer people.
Although there were now submachine guns and shotguns, which were considered "melee weapons," their significance in hunting was not significant. Buckshots would damage the fur, and there were no slugs in Nighten's spare ammunition.
Compared to using melee firepower to suppress game, Light Chu preferred to use his high-quality 9mm steel pipe rifle with rifling to take down the game with a single shot at medium range. Or at least incapacitate it, then move closer and finish it off with the steel pipe.
This way, not only would he save precious ammunition, but he could also preserve the fur of the prey more intact.
After handing a pistol and a crossbow to Nighten, along with a quiver containing fifteen crossbow bolts, Light Chu said, "Take these with you."
"Can I use that shotgun?" Nighten looked at the handgun, then glanced at the shotgun leaning against the wall corner, and pitifully looked at Light Chu.
However, Light Chu had no intention of conceding anything and said expressionlessly, "We're going hunting, not fighting mutants. Familiarize yourself with these two weapons first, then we'll talk about other things."
...
Light Chu set out for hunting with Nighten.
Gamers at the outpost were diligently working just like yesterday, carrying bricks, mixing cement, plastering walls—none of them were idle.
Thanks to the thirty tools the governor had exchanged from Brown Farm, the players' work efficiency had greatly improved.
Especially gamers building the wall.
The construction of the outpost's perimeter wall was progressing visibly fast.
It wasn't just the construction site.
Tomorrow and White, who were figuring out a way to smelt steel using primitive methods, made new progress after obtaining tongs and a blacksmith's hammer.
They dismantled the rusted car frames, engine covers, suspensions, and even the engine casings from the cars in the parking lot—these scraps that had become iron slag after two hundred years of exposure to the elements were natural open-pit mines for them.
They smashed the brittle rusted iron into pieces and threw them into the furnace. They still used charcoal as a reducing agent and manually operated the bellows. This time, they successfully smelted these scraps into molten iron.
"Awesome!"
"We did it!"
White and Tomorrow clenched their fists in excitement.
They had been waiting for this moment for three days!
After cooling, the molten iron became high-carbon pig iron. By repeatedly heating and cooling it, they could reduce the carbon content to between 2% and 1.5%, obtaining the most basic steel.
As for adding metals like chromium and nickel to make alloys, it was still too difficult for them. Proper steelmaking required professional equipment, at least an electric furnace.
In fact, let alone steelmaking, being able to smelt molten iron from industrial waste was already quite remarkable for them, considering their rudimentary production facilities!
"What should we forge?" White looked at Tomorrow excitedly and asked, "An axe? Blades? Or something else?"
Equally delighted, Tomorrow pondered for a few seconds and said, "Let's make a large pot first!"
"We eat stews every day, and I'm sick of it!"
Although the mashed potatoes from yesterday were not bad, according to Tomato Bro, soy sauce was running out, so today it would probably be pine nuts and fresh fish soup again.
That stuff wasn't fresh at all; it tasted like catfish mucus in every bite.
"Haha, great idea! With an iron pot, we can cook stir-fried dishes!" The two quickly reached a consensus and started using the remaining yellow clay from making bricks to figure out how to make a clay tool for firing the iron pot.
Meanwhile, in front of the carpenter's hut...
Mosquito Bro, sitting on a small stool at the door, was engrossed in his handicraft.
He was holding a trash can he had picked up from somewhere and had sealed it with wooden boards, then drilled a stainless steel pipe into it, creating a simple structure spray bottle.
But he wasn't satisfied with a tilted sprinkler.
Mosquito used pine resin to seal the connection. He attached a wooden handle that could be carried to the outer shell of the trash can and made a pressurizer similar to a spray bottle using a plastic bottle. He folded a hose into an S shape and connected it to the rear of the trash can.
"Perfect!"
Mosquito looked at the tool in his hand, a joyful expression on his face.
It was a manually pressurized flamethrower!
As long as he poured wood tar into the can and inserted a cotton strip for ignition on the front pipe, theoretically, within a five-meter radius, this thing could become anyone or any mutant's nightmare—
Of course, the premise was not to accidentally set himself on fire.
From a high emotional intelligence perspective, the design concept of this tool was somewhat cyberpunk, but Mosquito didn't think it was a big problem. He could improve it in the future.
Let's call it "Hellfire 0.1" for now!
As he pondered whether to try it somewhere, Mosquito suddenly looked up and saw Hurricane approaching with a plastic bucket in hand.
This guy went fishing early in the morning, and usually, you could only see him near the sanatorium in the afternoon. It was surprising that he came back so early today, before ten o'clock.
"Oh, so early today?" Mosquito looked at the approaching Hurricane and jokingly said, "Did the traps malfunction again?"
"It's not related to the traps," Hurricane threw the plastic bucket he was carrying on the ground, "Guess what I found?"
"What did you f—" Seeing what was inside the bucket, Mosquito froze.
There were some white stones mixed with yellow and light brown impurities.
His stiff expression instantly turned into ecstasy.
"Struvite!?"