Player Reload

Li Cheng raised an eyebrow; the writing on the paper was in strong penmanship, full of power and strength.

"My name is Zhu Youdong. You may have heard of me, the one who arrogantly claims to find a way out of the Broken Land and lead everyone back to reality, the madman."

"For twenty years, I have explored countless corners of the Broken Land: the Death Inn, the Paper and Pen Train, the Mysterious Pool, the Dolphin Hotel..."

"No matter who is reading this letter, you may have already read my guides submitted to the Execution Committee."

"But now, I am too tired, utterly exhausted. During my exploration of the recent earthquake’s epicenter at the behest of the Execution Committee, I contracted several curses such as those from the Death Inn and Crimson Cinema, for which there is no cure, nor do I have the strength to reach the next settlement for help."

"I have placed all my weapons, equipment, notes, and assets in the backpack at the entrance of the safe house, feel free to use them. If possible, please deliver the notes to any outpost of the Execution Committee, and have them handed to Lady Hilda at the headquarters. There will be a great reward."

"PS1: I have been cursed, and after death, my body might transform into a monster, so please do not attempt to open the room."

"PS2: If the Execution Committee plans to hold a public funeral for me, please ensure all computer hard drives in my personal room at the Mysterious Pool settlement are formatted first."

The note abruptly ended. Li Cheng glanced at the door, where a large, dusty canvas backpack lay on the ground, with a capacity of about 90L.

The left mesh pocket held a transparent water bottle, still half-filled with drinking water. The right mesh pocket contained a uniquely styled flintlock handgun sealed in a waterproof bag.

At this moment, the rest of the group also emerged from the room, peering down the corridor.

The building layout resembled that of an old employee dormitory. The terrazzo floors had faded from years of neglect.

The neighboring doors were left wide open, and within lay abandoned desks and chairs, covered in cobwebs.

"Check it out, everyone."

Li Cheng passed the note around. The group exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions full of surprise.

"So this place is called the Broken Land, home to a local organization called the Execution Committee, leading survivors to live on while exploring many unusual sites."

Don Juan hesitated, puzzled, "I understand all that, but why is the text in Chinese?"

According to the Skull Reconstruction Technique, the deceased should be a Caucasian with deep-set eyes and a high nose bridge.

"Maybe this saga’s sponsor is a Chinese company."

Li Cheng casually remarked, "In Sun Island animations, otherworldly characters also speak Japanese. In Hollywood films, aliens must speak English. It’s normal to have home-field advantage.

Comparatively, the name ’Zhu Youdong’ is more crucial."

"Why?" Don Juan asked, confused.

"There are plenty of people with the last name Zhu, it’s nothing. But the addition of ’Youdong’ is quite peculiar."

Gouchen pondered, "The founding Emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang, composed a five-character verse (twenty generational characters) for each of his sons’ (a total of 26 vassal king branches) branches, strictly following this sequence for generation naming.

For example, the generational poem of King Yan Zhu Di’s branch is ’High Aware Qi Jian You, Generous Support Often From, Kind Harmony Pleases Brothers, Simple Peace Guides First Plan’.

At the same time, the last character of each branch member’s name must also follow the five elements’ radicals,

Fire, Earth, Gold, Water, Wood, cycling endlessly.

The name Zhu Youdong perfectly aligns with the royal naming rules, being the twentieth-generation descendant of King Yan Zhu Di."

Seeing Maxwell deep in thought, Don Juan was still puzzled,

Gouchen explained, "How outrageous is this? To put it simply, it’s like a foreign student from Clawed Frog Island in Europe,

giving himself a name like [Gaius Julius Publius Cicero Augustus], with personal name + clan name + father name + tribal name + alias. Quite proper.

Or something like [Louis XIX], [Benedict XVII]. With a family emblem pinned on his clothes."

"I don’t know if there are students from Clawed Frog Island, but that general from Cao County did study in Switzerland for nine years early on and could indeed call himself [Jin San]."

Li Cheng casually chatted, picking up the backpack (after checking inside with Information Integration Glasses to ensure there were no bombs), and unzipped it.

As stated in the will, the backpack contained a lot of exploration equipment.

Including energy bars, ropes, climbing bolts, a softshell jacket and down coat, a thermal blanket sleeping bag moisture-proof mat, a first aid kit, and a civilian camera drone.

Maybe it was affected by radiation, many electronic components inside the drone were burnt out, making data retrieval difficult.

But this was no problem for Li Cheng. He took out the epic-quality Crown of All Machines, in the shape of a circuit board, and put it on,

then brought out a laptop equipped with a Prometheus multifunctional mechanical arm, connecting it to the drone with a data cable.

He cleared his throat and instructed the laptop, "Try to repair and read the video records from the drone.

Retrieve as much as possible."

"..."

The laptop’s mouse right-clicked a few times, and the mechanical arm came to life, first removing the drone’s casing, revealing the onboard eMMC storage.

The mechanical arm blew hot air, slowly rising to 200℃, melting the bottom solder ball array of the eMMC,

then carefully picked up the chip, cleaned residual solder, and put it into a PC-3000 Flash reader to read the raw NAND.

Rebuilding page order, stripping ECC, stitching back logical blocks, exporting the file system image, finally piecing countless fragment files together according to firmware syntax, into incomplete video clips.

"I am Zhu Youdong, and I’m here to show you how to survive in some of the most dangerous places in the Broken Land..."

Uh... The blonde-haired man on screen spoke seriously to the camera as if hosting a wilderness survival program,

even speaking in a Beijing accent.

Maxwell’s pupils widened slightly, unsure whether to be shocked at the Crown of All Machines or Zhu Youdong’s Beijing accent.

"Cut! Rewind!"

He suddenly raised his hand, signaling a replay of the video.

In an instantaneous frame, the corner revealed a giant rhinoceros over four meters tall at the shoulder.

A glowing crystal grew from its forehead, exactly like the stars embedded in players’ bracelets.

"The native creatures of the Broken Land can actually provide stars..."

Mei Wenyi’s eyes glistened, implying that players do not need to fight each other to progress.

"You brought your guild’s communication devices, right? How about sharing this information with others?"

Li Cheng tilted his head slightly; the rest temporarily showed an embarrassed expression before honestly pulling out various styles of high-powered radios/telephones/walkie-talkies/communication scrolls from their backpacks.

Although the Slum Committee routinely sends letters during such events, urging players to unite against external forces, avoiding in-fighting since every high-level player is a shared human asset,

If feasible, even if you defeat your opponent, don’t take their life,

As compensation, you can claim a bounty from the Slum Committee post-event using the defeat footage.

But... every guild has its interests and naturally hopes more of its members advance.

Therefore, each mid-to-high-level player carries communication equipment, hoping to Call Friends and Companions early, gaining a numerical advantage to suppress other groups or be a Lone Wolf.

"Hello, this is Don Juan, can you hear me?"

"CQ, this is Maxwell, CQ."

They fiddled for a while, but only static noises came from the communication devices.

"How can this be..."

Mei Wenyi furrowed his brows; the radio stations of major guilds used extraordinary technology capable of penetrating rock layers, theoretically transmitting signals from one end of Earth to the other.

But now, they couldn’t contact their companions or even receive signals from the main station.

"Don’t bother trying."

Li Cheng’s voice spoke with a complex tone. He had already walked to the end of the corridor, opened the security door, and saw the scene outside.

The red and black color scheme, shaped like demon horns, signified the headquarters of the Evil Science Alliance;

The carved beams and painted pillars, with flying eaves and interlocking brackets, marked the East Sea Hotel;

Pasted with blue glass, exuding a style reminiscent of the late 20th century, stood the headquarters building of the Special Affairs Bureau;

Even mixed among various shops was the Star-casting Anvil with a vending machine at its door.

This was indeed the slum.

An empty slum.