Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Wasteland Era 6

The room is a bit dirty.

Everything here looks like second-hand goods, and some items seem like they’ve been scavenged from a garbage heap, given a wash, and put on display. On the table by the wall, there’s some cheap liquor, marked with prices on a playing card. Food isn’t very scarce in this era, but the crops grown from the ground still carry radiation pollution.

The label on the liquor bottle is handwritten with the word ’Whiskey,’ which inexplicably makes one want to laugh.

“Buddy. If you want some fun tonight, we’ve got some safety measures here,” the waiter smirked lewdly, opening a drawer to reveal a row of low-quality condoms, and patted Su Ziyu on the shoulder, saying, “Safety first.”

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

The waiter winked lewdly at Su Ziyu before turning around and leaving.

“Is this place alright?” Pasha leaned against the door, lifting her fallen long hair, her eyes fixed on Su Ziyu as she asked.

“It’s okay.” Su Ziyu nodded and placed his backpack on the bed.

Pasha’s gaze shifted slightly, then she said, “I’ll head back first. We suffered a significant loss this time, and we’ll probably be busy for a while. I’ll come to find you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Alright.” Su Ziyu nodded.

Pasha turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and said softly, “Don’t wander off unnecessarily. Don’t accept their cigarettes, and don’t buy the ones from the shop.”

“If you want to smoke, I’ll bring you some clean ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Su Ziyu smiled and nodded.

Other than socializing, he basically doesn’t smoke and doesn’t have much of a smoking addiction, maybe just a couple of cigarettes when stressed. However, people in this era have a significant smoking habit; at least half of the people he sees, regardless of gender, smoke, and seem to smoke something laced. He doesn’t know how it is in other places, but the situation is indeed severe in the Western countries.

Pasha flashed a smile and left.

Su Ziyu stood by the bed, scrutinizing the utterly foreign surroundings. Civilization had truly drifted away from this era. In his eyes, the people on the streets all seemed like numb walking corpses. Nearby, two drunken men were fighting; the one knocked down was dragged into an alley by a few people, and they emerged holding something, laughing. Although Pasha mentioned that Freelancers are resistance fighters attempting to rebuild a civilized society, Su Ziyu didn’t observe many signs of civilization here. The law and order around here are poor, except for those gates guarded by armed defenders.

Inside should be the Freelancer’s main base, while the people outside likely exist as Scavengers reliant on them.

The best food offered by the inn is potato beef stew. For some reason, Pasha left behind a mechanical watch before leaving. After Su Ziyu finished eating, he glanced at it; the radiation pollution index had risen by about 0.02%. If one usually eats relatively clean food, the need for anti-radiation drugs would significantly reduce. On the counter were various goods, mainly tobacco and liquor, among which the most expensive was the purified water. They were in relatively exquisite bottles, priced thirty times higher than the same volume of alcohol, without any fancy advertisements, just a line of bold text declaring — ’Purified Water, Multi-layer Purification, No Radiation Pollution.’

This is a highly expensive luxury of the current era!

The clothes the inn provided looked a bit old, but they were quite clean. Su Ziyu changed into a set of ordinary long clothes and pants, which were very cheap, costing only fifteen bucks. The money acquired from the Plunderers amounted to around five or six thousand, which seemed decent in this era’s purchasing power. After placing the gun from his bag under the bed, Su Ziyu was ready to head out and take a look.

The sky gradually darkened.

There seemed to be more people outside, emerging from somewhere he couldn’t discern. Three to five black men stood on the street by the inn, looking at Su Ziyu with unwelcome eyes, examining him from head to toe.

“Get lost!” A rough voice came from behind. The innkeeper wielded a modified rifle, angrily cursing at those black men, “Get off this street! This is my territory! You filthy, lazy, shameless black bastards!”

Upon hearing the innkeeper’s anger, nearby shop doors swung open, and several armed men stepped outside, looking mostly white.

The black men put their hands on their waists, disdainfully leaving with a sense of hatred.

Cough! Spit!!!

The innkeeper coughed, followed by a loud spit, spewing a glob of phlegm onto the street side. Turning to face Su Ziyu, he donned a more friendly smile, saying, “All good now. Be careful with those black bastards around here; they’re a bunch of lazy, shameless robbers and thieves.”

“If you need anything, you can find me, Old Bob!”

After saying this, he chuckled and added, “If you’re looking for some fun with a girl, I can arrange it for you. Don’t mess with those black women; they all carry diseases.”

Patting Su Ziyu’s shoulder, his demeanor shifted seriously as he walked toward others, lowering his voice to a white man, “Have Jack come see me tonight. More and more black bastards are being sheltered in the camp lately. They’re daring to enter our territory, and I feel something’s brewing.”

At this moment.

Su Ziyu finally noticed that the street Pasha had brought him to seemed mainly white-dominated. Whether it was Old Bob or the black men, they all differed from the Scavengers Su Ziyu encountered during the day; they appeared more like gang members.

He ultimately decided to venture out and take a look.

Su Ziyu wanted to see what the world would become after experiencing a post-apocalyptic catastrophe.

After leaving Old Bob’s street, everything around him turned chaotic and noisy, with large metal barrels placed along the sides. Initially, he didn’t know their purpose, thinking they were trash cans, but at this moment, many barrels had fires lit inside them, with several either white or black figures standing around, warming up, smoking, and drinking. When noticing him, they’d cast cloudy gazes his way, occasionally whispering among themselves.

Those Indian people were still there, selling roasted rats at their stalls, though the people operating them had changed to look like sturdier adult men. A robust-looking middle-aged Indian man sat on the side drinking, revealing a metallic gun stock under his chair. As if noticing Su Ziyu’s gaze, that middle-aged man smiled at him, pointed to the roasted rat stand, and raised a thumb.

Meaning probably that it’s delicious?

Su Ziyu quickly averted his gaze as if nothing was amiss, the camp during the day and night seemed to change entirely, and those guards had returned behind the gate. Inside the outer circle of a tin wall, there was another thick wall, with the situation inside imperceptible, but it wasn’t as noisy as outside. That should be the Freelancer base.

The night guards had also been replaced.

Su Ziyu saw a man completely enveloped in metal, standing atop a watchtower, looking coldly at others, prohibiting anyone from approaching.

This should be the Exoskeleton Armor that Pasha mentioned, equipped with a mini nuclear battery at the back.

The night here was very noisy.

The dim lights could only illuminate the street edges, while the alleys were shrouded in pitch-black darkness, occasionally allowing faint human moans to be heard, not only from women but also from men.

As Su Ziyu walked, he suddenly furrowed his brow.

Three Black men emerged from the alley up ahead, giving him a malicious glare before each sauntered off smoking. From the alley came a man groaning in pain; Su Ziyu thoughtfully frowned before cautiously walking in. He saw another Black man, head bloodied, who looked somewhat familiar—upon closer inspection, he realized it was the Black man from the car earlier that day asking if he wanted a smoke.

“Are you alright?” Su Ziyu walked over and helped him up.

“Thanks, man.” The Black man struggled to stand, cursing, “Those damned Black bastards! Damn racists!…”

As he spoke.

He suddenly started fumbling around himself, then shakily pulled out a blood-stained cigarette, attempting several unsuccessful attempts at lighting it, his expression anxious and irritable, continuously cursing those Black men. Upon finally lighting it, he inhaled deeply, relaxed his tense demeanor, and muddledly said: “It’s you?…”

His appearance looked familiar to those addicts Su Ziyu had seen before; Su Ziyu felt slightly disgusted and quietly withdrew a step.

“Why did they beat you?” Su Ziyu asked.

The hand holding the cigarette trembled, he gave a bitter smile and shook his head: “They think I’m a traitor!…”

“Damn it!”

“It’s the end of the world!”

“Following them, you never know when you’ll face a black gun aimed at you from behind! … At least with Old Bill, I don’t fear someone stabbing me in the back!…”

Old Bill should be the German man from earlier in the day, who seems quite reputable among the Scavengers.

After a few drags of the cigarette, the Black man’s face showed less pain; he wiped the blood from his face and patted Su Ziyu’s shoulder, saying: “Thanks, man.”

“Be careful of those Black bastards around here.”

“They even prey on their own!”

Su Ziyu looked with some dislike at the blood stain on his shoulder; the other continued smoking obliviously, leaning against the wall and walking towards a nearby bar.

“Want to grab a drink? It’s on me! Old Bill’s also there!” This Black man seemed slightly dazed, turning with blood-stained teeth, reaching into his rear pocket only to suddenly erupt with anger, cursing: “Damn it! FUCK! Those shameless robbers and thieves!…”

His expression was now more enraged than when he was initially beaten.

“I’ll buy it. I happen to have some questions too.” Su Ziyu said, frowning at the blood stain on his shoulder.

The two walked along the street.

Just then, they heard a faint whisper, deeply unsettling yet audible with careful listening. Deep in the alley, a shadow resembling a person seemed sprawled on the cold ground, motionless, yet the voice came from afar.

He kept repeating the same words, the voice deep and hoarse, with words:

“hungry!… meat!…”

“hungry!… meat!…”

“hungry!… meat!…”

Hungry…

Meat…

The Black guy beside Su Ziyu trembled involuntarily, not saying anything as he pulled Su Ziyu away, oblivious to his fallen cigarette.

………

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