Chapter 81: Good News from the Authorities
Clang— Clang— Clang…
Morning arrived.
The bells of Seed City rang out.
Marking the start of a brand-new day.
In the residential wards, people dragged themselves out of bed in a daze, hungrily counting their hoarded crystals to see if they had scraped together enough to exchange for a ration brick in the plaza.
Treating every single day as your last was the norm here.
Fear bred numbness, and numbness bore no hope.
Only day after day of waiting.
Waiting for what?
No one could say.
The sole remaining objective was simply to stay alive.
Peace was hard to come by within the city. Factions large and small constantly vied for territory, recruiting muscle and clashing in bloody skirmishes every few days.
Landed with the derogatory label of “toxic strays,” ordinary scavengers had to steer clear of the streets to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. The once-formidable Scarface had fallen, leaving Mad Dog to reign supreme, turning the eastern perimeter into their private hunting ground.
That left scavengers no choice but to head north.
Yet the northern wastes were far more lethal.
Mutants cropped up in relentless succession. One careless step meant a venomous bite, and the unluckier souls never even made it back to the gates alive.
People wondered if the administration had abandoned them entirely. With mutant activity spiking so violently outside the walls, high command still hadn’t deployed anyone to cleanse the perimeter… Yet resentment was kept strictly under wraps; no one had the nerve to march up and challenge the city guards.
Lately, there had been quite a stir out by the West Wall, with large crowds gathering in that direction.
No one knew what they were up to.
Nothing good, surely.
Probably some new gang recruiting cannon fodder, or another brainwashing cult like the Rebirth Zealots from a few years back.
To survive the apocalypse without getting dragged down by outside messes, you had to keep your curiosity on a tight leash.
Scraping by each day was grueling enough; nobody wanted to borrow trouble.
And so, this new day looked no different from yesterday, the day before, or the day before that.
Monotonous and bleakly repetitive.
Survivors clutching handfuls of crystals gathered in the plaza before the clock tower.
Waiting for the guards to organize the queues for crystal collection and ration distribution.
Scarcely anyone spoke.
There was nothing to talk about anyway.
…Hm?
Through the morning fog, the silhouettes of city guards materialized.
Today’s scene looked distinctly unusual.
Under normal circumstances, the plaza exchange was overseen by six guards: two on perimeter watch, two collecting crystals for coin, and two trading coin for ration bricks.
Why were there so many guards today?
A quick glance revealed over a dozen men in uniform.
The officer leading them stepped onto the raised platform, holding a megaphone identical to the one used to announce the Black Fields conscription lottery.
“What’s this about?”
Noticing the shift in routine, murmurs finally rippled through the crowd.
“They’re not… announcing another draft lottery tonight, are they?”
“It’s only been a few days! Have they lost their minds…?”
“I just want to buy my ration! I saved for three days just to come today… Please, don’t let anything happen.”
Skrrrrt—
A sharp shriek of static crackled as the megaphone was switched on, plucking at the raw nerves of the crowd below.
Having been up all night, the guard surveyed the citizens of Seed City gathered before him.
Their faces were etched with numbness, bewilderment, and terror.
As if bracing for an executioner’s verdict.
The guard knew the sight all too well; every time he climbed this platform, countless faces like these stared back at him.
The Black Fields draft, the closure of the South Wall, curfew pushed earlier, daily ration quotas reduced…
Always bad news.
Not this time, though.
He cleared his throat, watching his comrades set up the freshly painted wooden signboard.
He raised the megaphone.
“Citizens of Seed City. Before today’s exchange commences, there is an official announcement.”
“An establishment named the Chinese Restaurant has opened beyond the West Wall. It offers a variety of foods, including roasted potatoes and roasted sweet potatoes, at prices lower than official city rations.”
The moment the words left his mouth, a dead silence fell over the plaza.
The few remaining whispers were snuffed out entirely.
“The signboard displays a portion of the Chinese Restaurant’s pricing for your reference. The establishment accepts crystals, metals, corrupted produce, mutated flora and fauna, and handcrafted goods in exchange for City Coins, which can then be used to purchase food.”
“Official crystal and ration exchanges will continue as usual within the city. In addition, an escort detail of city guards will blaze a secured corridor to lead citizens directly to the Chinese Restaurant.”
“The prices, status effects, and coordinates for select items from the Chinese Restaurant are detailed on this signboard. You may inspect it freely.”
“The time is currently 8:10 AM. At 9:00 AM sharp, all parties wishing to travel to the Chinese Restaurant will muster here in the plaza. The guard detachment will depart on schedule.”
The announcement finished, yet the crowd remained frozen in silence.
Nearby, the standard exchange tables and lockboxes were already positioned.
Scarcely a soul moved to queue up.
It was as if their minds simply couldn’t process the sheer volume of information dropped on them.
Until someone slowly edged forward, squinting at the wooden board:
[Chinese Restaurant]
Located roughly 2.3 kilometers south of the West Wall.
Food Offerings: Roasted Potato — 4 City Coins (1% Toxicity Purge)
Roasted Sweet Potato — 6 City Coins (2% Toxicity Purge)
…
Eligible Exchange Items for City Coins: Crystals, metals, and valuables accepted within the city; foodstuffs (including corrupted and mutated flora and fauna); non-edible mutated flora and fauna; handicrafts.
Notice: The Chinese Restaurant is non-governmental. Operational hours: 8:00 AM – 6:00 PM. City guards will patrol the transit corridor during operational hours. Standard gate curfew regulations remain in effect.
Provisions from the Chinese Restaurant are permitted past the city gates.
Wait a minute… 4 City Coins?
And it purges poison?!
This was an official board put up by the administration, right?!
Not some trap laid by a deranged cult to lure them in?
“Officer, is this… real?”
“Four City Coins… You really mean four?!”
“Roasted potatoes—is that the kind of roasted potato I’m thinking of?!”
“Officer, please…”
The plaza erupted into life.
Questions pelted the guards like a relentless tidal wave.
Just like the frantic grilling the Commander had endured from his own officers during last night’s briefing.
Though their meeting had gone a bit smoother than this; after all, actual roasted potatoes had been resting on the table before them—seeing was believing.
The Commander had cautioned them beforehand that the populace would find it nearly impossible to believe, instructing them to remain patient and mentally prepared.
Clearly, they hadn’t prepared enough… He couldn’t even distinguish individual questions through the deafening wall of voices shouting over one another.
The guard lost count of how many times he had to repeat, “It’s real.”
The square only grew louder and more frantic.
Having received repeated confirmations, several survivors bolted toward the residential wards to summon their families and neighbors.
The crowd swarming the plaza swelled by the minute, their voices rising to an ecstatic roar.
A strange sensation washed over the guard.
Seed City… felt like it was finally coming back to life.
The raucous din from the plaza echoed against the walls of the clock tower.
Yves peered down through the window before sliding the sash shut.
Silence reclaimed the office.
He turned to face the woman standing before his desk.
“How is the South Wall?”
“Lower-tier mutants have been largely neutralized; higher-tier threats were repelled,” Mori reported crisply. “Perimeter defense secured. Zero casualties last night.”
She was still clad in her hazard suit, looking road-weary and splattered with varying shades of green sludge that resembled toxic blood.
Her eyes, however, burned with fierce clarity.
“However, Team Leader Beverly instructed us to salvage as many mutant carcasses as possible. I brought a sample batch for your inspection, sir. The toxicity on these things is…”
Mori’s expression turned deeply conflicted as she pointed toward the rank, foul-smelling sacks beside the door, hesitating mid-sentence.
She genuinely couldn’t fathom why the Commander wanted them hauling back raw mutant carcasses.
“I will explain the reasoning shortly.”
“Understood, sir. Though the high-tier mutants were repelled for now, our long-term prospects remain grim.”
Mori’s face hardened. “Standard suppressive fire barely dents that particular high-tier mutant. We only held the South Wall by leveraging the ramparts and the fact that marsh predators shun daylight. But the mutant ecosystem beyond the South Wall is volatile; if it continues to evolve unchecked…”
“That is precisely why I summoned you,” Yves cut in, sliding a dossier across the desk toward her.
“Relying solely on weapons rationed from central command leaves us far too vulnerable,” the Commander stated flatly.
Mori looked down at the file pushed into her hands.
—[South Wall Special Strike Team: Accelerated Awakening Protocol].
