Chereads / Apocalypse: Possessing the Space Ring / Chapter 77 - The Value of Zone Broadcasts  

Chapter 77 - The Value of Zone Broadcasts  

Inside the off-road vehicle, Clifford was excited, grinning from ear to ear, trying to build good relations with the people in the car, having abandoned his earlier courage. He didn't know why Clark had suddenly agreed to let him join, but it didn't dampen his enthusiastic mood.

 

Great, he was finally safe.

 

However, as he was about to approach the others, he immediately noticed Arnold's severed left hand and couldn't help but shrink back. A bald, burly man with a fierce expression and missing a hand didn't seem like an approachable character. So, he decided to try with someone else.

 

"Little friend, what's your name?" He attempted to engage Sandra in a childlike manner, but she turned her head to look at him with an icy, indifferent expression. Sandra, with her petite stature, could easily pass for a child, and her silent gaze was chilling.

 

Realizing he was getting nowhere, Clifford awkwardly chuckled.

 

Why were all the people in this group acting like this, except Clark, who seemed somewhat normal? His thoughts were jumbled, and he soon fell into a deep sleep, clutching a car pillow.

 

Inside the team voice chat:

 

"Clark, is this guy really useful?"

 

Arnold looked puzzled. This skinny guy could be crushed by Arnold's one hand alone. A grown man who lacked the courage even to step outside – Arnold couldn't understand why Clark would let him in the car.

 

Arnold had a strong sense of justice and was willing to help others, but it was limited to assisting the weak. The elderly, the infirm, the disabled – in this doomsday, he would help them, as they couldn't survive on their own. But Clifford?

 

In his eyes, an adult man should display a degree of masculinity, not beg for the pity of others. Clark shook his head slightly. He had just examined Clifford's player profile and confirmed that he was indeed the chief architect of "Hope City" from the previous world.

 

Clark was puzzled. He wondered why he had let Arnold bring Clifford back just now.

 

Clark realized that this famous designer from the previous world would probably become a feast for the zombies if left on his own. If zombies could speak, they would probably say, "Thank you, oh benevolent heavens."

 

The man's display of courage in facing the zombies just now seemed no different from the actions of a fool in Clark's eyes. He thought it was foolish to confront zombies because there was no benefit to be gained from fighting them. Who would do such a thing unless they were foolish?

 

Clark thought it didn't matter. For him, all that mattered was to assign this guy to logistics. Just with his architectural skills, he was worth recruiting. A builder of this caliber had value comparable to that of a Tier 3 Awakened individual for the entire safe zone. In the previous world, talents like this were fought over by major factions, and Clark couldn't believe he had just walked right into his hands, almost being fed to zombies. This incident reminded him of one important thing.

 

In the early stages of the game, many players, despite knowing that it was just a game, were not aware of how to survive, due to the fear of death and disbelief. The group of ordinary players accounted for 99% of the total survivor population, while Awakened individuals accounted for only 1%.

 

Unlike Awakened individuals who immediately had the ability to protect themselves, many ordinary players had auxiliary-type skills that could not be turned into combat power. They were supposed to showcase their value and seek protection from safe zones or stronger individuals. However, players like Clifford probably didn't even know what the term "spiritual energy" meant within their skills. Subconsciously, they believed they had no value or use.

 

Not only were they not accepted by others, but they also felt like they were worthless. This situation didn't start to change until a year later when everyone had come to accept the concept of spiritual energy. Therefore, Clark could capitalize on the information gap.

 

These players with superpowered auxiliary skills might be seen as burdens by others, but in Clark's eyes, they were different. They were like walking treasures! Buffs and enhancements would be invaluable assets to his safe zone.

 

If he were to recruit players from the previous world who had skills like Master Blacksmith, Master Alchemist, Defensive Fortification Commander, and Monster Keeper, the potential of the safe zone he was building was beyond imagination. In the coming year, the value of these people, who were mobile sources of enhanced buffs, would become as common as cabbage – as long as they had food to eat, they would be willing to go with you.

 

With his current strength, coupled with being the first to establish a safe zone ahead of all other players, recruiting these people is almost like capturing them effortlessly. 

 

The biggest challenge now is how to find these individuals. As long as we can locate them, the safe zone we establish next will be rock-solid, and it may even become the strongest base in the entire Chinese battle zone. Find them? In an instant, Clark suddenly realized the true purpose of the second mission reward: the broadcast authority in the battle zone!

 

...

 

Suddenly, Dirk slammed on the brakes, leaving a long black skid mark on the road, and the car shook violently before coming to a stop.

 

"Clark, there's someone lying in the middle of the road!"

 

Under the sudden brake, everyone in the car, except Clark and Arnold, who had strong physical qualities, screamed and collided with the front seats.

 

His contemplation was interrupted, and Clark's powerful spirit instantly spread out. In his perception, a young woman with disheveled hair lay in front of the car with her eyes tightly closed, her life hanging in the balance. She was dressed in thin clothing, exposing a stark whiteness that stood out on the highway.

 

"Clark, should we go down and check?"

 

Arnold, after taking a look outside and assessing the situation, sought Clark's opinion.

 

Unlike the others who instinctively wanted to save or avoid the person, Clark instinctively activated his skill.

 

"Eye of Judgment!"

 

A light blue mist rose, and stars revolved. A crescent-shaped colorless spiritual force expanded outward like water.

 

In just 0.01 seconds, the information from the Eye of Judgment instantly transmitted to everyone within a hundred meters.

 

After quickly scanning the information, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Clark's mouth, and a hint of coldness flashed in his eyes, then disappeared in an instant.

 

"Clark, I'll go down first."

 

Dirk, who was driving, had already unfastened his seatbelt in a hurry, wanting to investigate.

 

"Arnold, go with Dirk and make sure to protect him."

 

After giving orders to his team members via voice communication, Clark closed his eyes to rest, as if the coldness that flashed in his eyes just now was nothing more than an illusion.

 

Protection? There are no zombies around here either. It's desolate, with the only sign of civilization being a gas station not far away.

 

Arnold was slightly taken aback, feeling that Clark's tone had a hint of killing intent.

 

"Snap out of it, are you okay?"

 

Dirk, in a deep voice, shook the girl lying at his feet. Although he was sure that the training he had undergone in his unit should prevent him from colliding with people like this, the girl was covered in blood. Arnold was behind him, and after Clark's warning, he looked a bit more alert.

 

"Water... water..."

 

The young girl on the ground had a hoarse voice and slowly opened her eyes. Dirk quickly took out his water bottle from his waist and handed it to her. It seemed like she hadn't had water in a long time, so she took the bottle and drank eagerly.

 

"How are you feeling? Can you move?"

 

Dirk instinctively expressed concern for the girl on the ground, not out of any lustful intentions, but because he had a kind-hearted nature, having a military background. In a way, he was similar to Arnold, considering helping others as his duty.

 

The girl remained silent, and a trace of reluctance flashed imperceptibly in her eyes as she pulled up her legs hidden beneath her skirt. Dirk caught a glimpse of it, and his pupils suddenly contracted. The girl's knees were pierced through by iron nails, with transparent fishing lines wound around them. Due to their military instincts for danger, he instantly realized what the problem was.

 

With such injuries, the girl couldn't have crawled onto the highway by herself. She must have been deliberately maimed and left here!

 

Bullets were chambered, and a group of people suddenly sprang out from under the highway guardrail, aiming their guns at him.

 

"Hands on your heads, everyone out of the car! Otherwise, I'll shoot him!"

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