Chapter 74: “What Do You Need?”
Ling Jing washed her hands and stepped out of the kitchen.
With Caicai following close behind, she walked to the front entrance.
Before she could lift a finger, Caicai took the initiative with remarkable tact, opening the door for her.
It even switched on the lights across the dining area in the same breath.
The “crowd of customers” paying a late-night visit was laid bare before her eyes.
Nine people in total.
They were clearly a far cry from the patrons who frequented the shop during the day.
All nine wore crisp black uniforms, black leather boots, and black tactical gloves.
The four standing in the rear row each carried a sizable metallic case.
Unlike ordinary scavengers who wrapped their faces in simple cloths, these visitors in black uniforms wore full-head coverings… helmets?
The visor section over the eyes was transparent, allowing them an unobstructed view of their surroundings.
Ling Jing’s gaze subtly drifted past their waists.
Holsters secured at the hip.
These people were packing firearms.
Their gear was undeniably top-tier.
And they were exceptionally well-trained.
Even on their very first visit to her restaurant, none of them gave in to overt rubbernecking.
The nine stood in two disciplined ranks. The moment she pulled the door open, they turned their eyes toward her in perfect unison.
A single man stood at the very front of the formation. When he caught sight of Ling Jing, he turned toward the perimeter and called out, “Commander.”
Ling Jing followed his line of sight, spotting another figure standing before the Item Exchange Box.
Ah. It wasn’t nine people after all.
It was ten.
And one was the “Commander.”
These must be the authorities mentioned in the system notification.
She thought to herself.
They ought to have deep pockets.
…
When Keith called out to him, Yves was standing before the Item Exchange Box, reading the instructional plaque mounted on its side.
The more he read, the deeper the chill settled in his chest.
—When he led his detachment out here, prepared as he was mentally, Yves still found the reality before him nothing short of miraculous.
Erecting a private structure beyond the city walls was not an impossible feat, but this dome of white protective light… bore an uncanny resemblance to the “Canopy” that hovered over Qiweng City, one of the Three Great Cities.
In fact, its capacity to repel the emerald mist seemed even more formidable.
Yves knew a fair bit about how the “Canopy” had been forged—it had taken the combined might of countless Awakeners to raise, sustained at the cost of astronomical resources.
Yet this warm, lantern-lit restaurant possessed an even stronger barrier.
What kind of power was behind this?
The more one understood the truth of the world, the more terrifying this spectacle became.
Flanked by Keith and two squads of city guards, Yves had approached the storefront with measured caution.
The lights inside appeared to be off, but the two lanterns flanking the entrance bathed the clearing in a soft, gentle glow.
It was an architectural style he had never encountered before.
Stunning, yet utterly alien.
Yves took in the row of benches outside, his attention swiftly drawn to the metallic box positioned near the doors.
There were no benches before it, but the packed earth at its base showed that dozens of people lingered in front of this container every single day.
Ordering his men to hold their positions, Yves stepped forward alone, using the lantern light to inspect the instructional plaque fixed beside the hopper.
[City Coin Exchange. Eligible Items: Energy crystals, metals, and valuables accepted for trade within the city; foodstuffs (including corrupted and mutated flora and fauna); non-edible mutated flora; non-edible mutated fauna; handicrafts.]
?!
It wasn’t as if Yves had never received surveillance reports regarding the West Wall.
Over the past week, the volume of foot traffic passing through the West Gate had climbed steadily.
Concurrently, the daily tally of crystals exchanged at the central plaza each morning had plummeted.
According to yesterday’s logs, the daily average of crystals redeemed this week had dropped by a fifth compared to the week prior.
The dip had been subtle during the first few days, but the steep drop-off over the past forty-eight hours had dragged the overall average down hard.
A deficit in crystals was naturally something Yves could not overlook.
Every quarter, the frontier outposts were mandated to deliver a designated quota of energy crystals and iron black wheat to the Three Great Cities in exchange for essential food supplies.
Drops in crystal intake and anomalous behavioral shifts among the populace had occurred several times in the past.
A prominent incident had flared up right when he first assumed command of Seed City—the “Rebirth Cult Uprising.”
Their doctrine claimed that the cataclysm was divine retribution, and that by absorbing enough “purification” from the emerald mist, one could attain transcendent powers and an invincible physique, thereby executing divine judgment upon the unenlightened masses.
Naturally, the Rebirth Cult had been crushed without mercy.
On the morning their “Divine Retribution Operation” was set to launch, the zealots attempting to butcher common citizens inside the walls were apprehended on the spot.
There were no transcendent powers, and certainly no invincibility.
Under the cold fire of the city guards’ rifles, those brandishing weapons were gunned down where they stood, while conspirators were marched straight to the penal blocks.
The lightly indoctrinated followers were rounded up and sent back to their residential quarters.
Their leader, the self-proclaimed “Child of Light,” was executed by firing squad in the central plaza as a public warning to all.
Moreover…
Seed City harbored numerous factions, large and small. With violence strictly prohibited inside the walls, gang warfare played out exclusively in the wastes.
Fighting for turf, bleeding for scrap.
Skirmishes between minor gangs ended swiftly, while clashes between larger syndicates could drag on for days, resulting in a single merged powerhouse marching back through the gates when the dust settled.
During the first half of the month, traffic through the East Gate had spiked anomalously for several days in a row.
Once the numbers stabilized, the name “Scarface” had vanished from Seed City’s rosters for good.
This current anomaly, however, was fundamentally different from anything that had come before.
Barely noticeable at first, the crowd had swelled exponentially by the day, all while logging zero casualties.
Yet this had landed right in the middle of Seed City’s worst internal and external crises.
Internally, they faced the increasingly volatile mutations of the iron black wheat within the Black Fields; externally, the South Wall was besieged by a looming high-tier monstrosity.
Coupled with the fact that the pollution index at the West Wall had never tripped the red line, Yves simply hadn’t possessed the bandwidth to investigate.
Until today.
Just as Seed City teetered on the brink of collapse, they had stumbled upon this establishment outside the West Wall.
It felt like an uncanny twist of fate.
Arriving at the precise moment their backs were against the wall.
…
Yves read the instructional plaque three times over, word for word.
Only then did he begin to piece together why the survivors of Seed City suddenly had the coin to purchase meals here.
This machine exchanged goods for City Coins.
Much like what the city guards did every morning on the plaza before the clock tower.
Except it wasn’t just crystals.
It took mutated flora, mutated fauna, and even handcrafted goods made by the common folk.
City Coins were the standardized currency issued by the Three Great Cities after the cataclysm, minted from specialized composite materials.
How could a lone diner hold enough capital reserves to disburse payouts to nearly two hundred scavengers a day?
Furthermore…
Yves could plainly see the overwhelming advantage of trading here.
—Crystals were grueling to unearth; a scavenger combing the wastes from dawn till dusk might only turn up a handful of scraps.
Beyond the walls, however—especially outside the West Wall—corrupted produce blanketed the abandoned agricultural tracts for miles.
Tack on “non-edible mutated flora, non-edible mutated fauna, and handicrafts,” and the picture was clear.
As long as the people of Seed City wished to earn coin, they had avenues and resources in endless supply.
Formidable power, an inscrutable agenda, an unknown origin, and a revenue stream thrown wide open to the public.
Yves’s eyes darkened with a turbulent swirl of emotions.
It was at that exact moment that Keith’s voice cut through the silence.
“Commander.”
Yves lifted his head to see the entrance of the Chinese Restaurant swing open.
The lights inside flared to life, casting a silhouette from behind the figure standing in the doorway.
It was a woman bearing not a single trace of emerald corruption.
Her attire was simple, her expression unruffled and calm.
Her gaze met his across the threshold.
“Welcome. The restaurant is currently closed outside of standard operating hours; all food prices are doubled.”
A faint, professional customer-service smile touched the woman’s lips as she addressed Yves: “What do you need?”
