Chapter 79: The Shed Group

Although the “Hunter Monster Alliance Headquarters” was an organization jointly established by many influential people from Earth,
to become one of its leaders depended on real ability. Past reputation only made it easier to gain others’ trust.
In the sensory link, Chen Yu sighed:
{It’s been confirmed. The deceased is Zhou Heng.}
As expected of the Heroic Group; in the end, they still killed Zhou Heng. The headquarters has truly suffered a heavy loss this time.
Although he had no particular affection for the so-called headquarters, the ordinarily unremarkable Zhou Heng, relying solely on his knowledge and resourcefulness, made crucial contributions to the organization’s development.
“Can the other two recover? Their injuries are severe.”
{It would have been tricky, but we happened to find someone who can grant wishes. That simplifies everything.}
“Wish? You mean the Wish Talisman?”
{You know about the Wish Talisman already?}
This time, Chen Yu truly admired Yang Zicang.
The headquarters only learned of such items a long time afterward; their existence is a secret to most people. Yet this newcomer, here just a few days, seemed to know everything about them inside out.
……
After leaving Luo Xin’s place and taking Liang Xi with them, the trio went to Chu Qiang’s to pick up Liu Ming and Zhang Yang, who had entered at the same time. The five returned together to the Theater Dimension.
“Impressive. You’ve even got your own fancy villa now.”
As the sound echoed hollowly, Zhang Yang looked around with envy.
“From now on, don’t go out unless necessary. Caution will keep you safe for a long time.” Yang Zicang glanced at the dilapidated theater. Only this place brought him a measure of peace.
Lu Bu’s satellite had become the Sword of Damocles hanging over everyone’s heads.
After tidying up, Yang Zicang made it look like he was packing his things.
Mu Xiaoyu walked over and handed him a piece of cookie, saying,
“Going out again? Why don’t you skip it today and get some proper rest?”
“That subway can only move at night, so I’ll just rest during the day.”
……
Under the deepening twilight.
Sounds still occasionally echoed from the makeshift shed gathering at night.
In the dead of night, Wang Chong, slightly better dressed, received a message from the model, got up from his bed, and walked into the night with a yawn. On the bed across the small room, Xu Xiuchuan, who noticed his departure, quickly grabbed a blanket, wrapped himself up, and rubbed his hands together as he accompanied him.
“Did that Yang Zicang contact you? Oh, it’s so cold—this godforsaken place is freezing at night.”
“It’s a miracle you haven’t frozen to death yet,” Wang Chong said.
“It’s like this in summer; I have no idea what to do in winter this year.”
At the same time the two left, inside another room in the cluster of dozens of wooden sheds—varying in height and size—Fan Xiuyun and Lyu Zhi, who still felt a bit wistful, were lying on the lower bunks of their respective double-deck wooden beds. One snored thunderously, while the other silently envied as he thought back to the evil nightmare train he had seen that afternoon.
Suddenly, Lyu Zhi heard a faint groan from the upper bunk above his bed.
Lyu Zhi whispered, “Qin Meng, what’s wrong? Are you having another episode?”
“I… I’m fine…” Qin Meng on the upper bunk gritted his teeth, suppressing the sudden, agonizing cramps rising from his chest. “It’s nothing, you know, just an old problem. Get some rest.”
Get some rest.
Lyu Zhi, a stout young man, got up and gave a concerned glance at Qin Meng, who was thin and frail. Finding no major issue, he continued lying down on the bed full of withered grass and reddish crystal gravel.
After taking a few deep breaths, Qin Meng heard a voice deep within his heart—
{Weren’t you going to leave yesterday? Why aren’t you acting now? Hah.}
[I… can suppress you for a while longer.]
{Relying on that extra fifty years of life you got today? Hmph, I’d advise you to set off soon and find some desolate land away from humans to die… So when I come out, these sycophantic friends of yours might live a bit longer.}
Clearly spoken in a foreign language, yet Qin Meng could naturally understand it.
In the darkness, this sound audible only to himself seemed like taunting from the devil.
Qin Meng was filled with resentment, but he dared not show it, lest the friends who had finally accepted him notice anything unusual.
After a long while, Qin Meng muttered silently in his heart:
[You won’t succeed. I believe evil will never triumph over good.]
{Hahaha, you pathetic weakling through and through, haha.}
{That council actually thought such trash could handle the world’s crisis by using guys like you… What a failed decision… Luckily, I can still turn things around a bit…}
The voice faded away slowly, and the extra fifty years of life gained that afternoon were already down to forty-two.
……
Leaving behind the dozens of wooden sheds clustered against the mountain, Wang Chong and Xu Xiuchuan walked toward a sheltered hillock behind a small mound.
Xu Xiuchuan, who had just cracked a joke, cast a helpless glance at Wang Chong beside him, who had fallen asleep in an instant.
Suddenly, an illusion twisted out of the air behind Wang Chong’s back.
A hazy energy rapidly expanded, forming a subway platform that occupied a space of over ten meters.
“Wow.”
Xu Xiuchuan’s mouth fell wide open. By the time Wang Chong jolted awake from his doze, the train was already hovering beside them.
Wang Chong ran his hand through his medium-length hair, mumbling drowsily, “Ah, Brother Yang, I’m sorry. I just dozed off.”
What an honest kid. Yang Zicang thought to himself, now feeling a bit awkward about explaining things.
“These are clothes for you. I’ll bring more later.”
Yang Zicang opened a large suitcase.
“Whoa!”
The two stared excitedly at the garments inside. Yang Zicang knew the nights were cold around here, so all the items were autumn and winter wear.
“Can I really take it?” Wang Chong couldn’t wait to pick up a jacket and held it in his hands, admiring it with fondness.
Xu Xiuchuan nodded, letting the two of them pick out two pieces first.
“Brother Yang, you must have come for something tonight, right? Is there anything I can help with?”
Xu Xiuchuan shamelessly chimed in from the side.
“I want to buy some triangular lost-consciousness models.”
In the dim light, the two exchanged glances, and Wang Chong said, “I did find one yesterday, but I already handed it in as the site fee.”
To live in a shack settlement, you have to pay a triangular lost-consciousness model every month.
Upon hearing their explanation of the settlement area, Yang Zicang’s heart stirred: “If I set up a shantytown settlement here, could I collect rent like your shed leader does?”
The two of them felt utterly dumbfounded, as if struck by thunder.
Xu Xiuchuan was full of silent admiration. Here was a man who, upon arrival, conjured up an idea they’d never even considered—their minds simply weren´t on the same frequency.
Wang Chong stammered as he spoke, “Theoretically, yes, it´s possible.”
“But, Brother Yang, managing a shantytown settlement isn´t that easy. Besides having to deal with monsters that crisscross in and out of the shifting lost-frequency zones, you also need to plan the livable infrastructure and resolve conflicts among the people. In particular, there are very few women here; if someone has a family, it easily leads to trouble.”
Xu Xiuchuan added, “What´s more, you can´t just build a settlement anywhere you want. First, you need a well.”
“That´s right. Only when a newly emerging lost-frequency conflicting land contains a well do we occasionally find one or two wells to turn into lInert-Mind Engines.”
“Sounds tough just hearing it,” Yang Zicang remarked with a sigh.
“Not really. If the terrain is suitable, someone will first dig a well there, then, once water flows, move the well out and install the engine to activate it.”
Yang Zicang was thunderstruck, reeling from disbelief.
He once heard a crosstalk skit about a wind that swept away a well.
He never expected to, here, achieve something quite like that—
Digging a well in a newly emerging scenescape, then turning it into an engine and moving it out.
“Good well Disorientation Engines are very expensive; only a few medium-to-large shed masters possess their formulas.”
Fortunately, terrain-type engines don’t require the cooperation of the merchants in Hub Town; otherwise, almost no one in the Lost Frequency Zone would survive.
“Our shed master wanted to build a well engine. He experimented for almost half a year—allegedly wasting about twenty to thirty disorientation models—and barely managed to produce two engines that yield murky water. The rest were either dry wells or contained harmful substances or strange odors that could shorten your life if drunk.”
“Oh, then your local poison-pharma industry must be pretty advanced.”
“Of course it is, but it’s damn well useless. If there’s a problem, one sip will tell you how many days of life you’ve lost.”
“That’s true.”
Yang Zicang, having had similar experiences, nodded thoughtfully in deep agreement.