Chapter 413: Wasteland

Novel:Author:Update Time: 2019101322:01:18Source Website:

Xia Naiming's expression froze instantly, his face turning as black as a pot. This was clearly a forum dedicated to learning, a place where people would work so hard they'd go bald and their hairlines would recede. Yet, these bizarre users weren't studying at all; they were engaging in rampant, sophisticated flirting, far more skilled than before. He was dumbfounded, almost believing the world had gone mad.

The surrounding people instantly found this amusing.

Is he silent because he's questioning his existence now?

"What an incredible move! It's unearthed hidden masters. This is a game-changer, so impressive it makes your scalp tingle."

"Coach, I want to learn how to be a clown!"

"Hiss! This troll's skill is profound, reaching mastery. They must have practiced for countless years—it's terrifying! Never provoke them!"

While many were merely making a fuss – peripheral online users with nothing better to do – those who could genuinely help were already taking action.

The various research institutes were the quickest to respond. Their immediate priority was to ensure the player's survival in the apocalyptic wasteland. Following that, they wanted the player to find mechanical suits, disassemble them, and provide screenshots for their study. While this might not yield much knowledge, given that these are magic-powered machines, even a small technological component within them would be enough to pique their interest. Moreover, the ideal scenario was to find survivors in the wasteland who were mechanical engineering scientists, and then extract the principles from their memories.

"Begin analyzing the released species images and data! We need to find magical beasts whose bloodlines can be fused to create genetic fusion potions!"

Under the stark white lights, countless people moved with purpose, ready for action.

Meanwhile, the matter of cultivation remained on the agenda. It was a long-term goal that couldn't be achieved quickly, and Xia Naiming was still quite weak, currently relying on Du Xue for support.

Inside a crashed mechanical spaceship, largely collapsed and embedded in the mud, dozens of survivors had established a temporary camp.

Du Xue reviewed a report, stating, "Within the camp, the current professional distribution includes: one medic, one full-system mech pilot, one master of all mechanical combat, and one full-system spellcaster."

While "skills" can be transmitted, individual brain capacity is finite. It's impossible to infuse too many professions into one person; the optimal approach is for each individual to specialize in a single profession, fostering efficient division of labor.

Brain capacity also varies from person to person. Most individuals are third-class citizens, whose pineal glands were activated only after three specific neural modifications. Their processing power is lower, and their innate brain capacity can only accommodate mastery of a single profession.

While it might sound like a person's brain can only learn one profession, suggesting limited human brain capacity, this isn't true. Professional mastery represents the pinnacle of a field, demanding an immense volume of knowledge that would typically take at least a century of dedicated study to acquire. For instance, "Medical Mastery" is equivalent to being a top medical specialist among the Ishdal, encompassing fields like surgery, internal medicine, and orthopedics. Each field, when mastered to its extreme, contains an enormous amount of data that could metaphorically overload your brain. Furthermore, your brain cannot be entirely filled with knowledge; doing so would trigger a "computer memory insufficient" warning. By law, at least 80% of the brain's memory space must be reserved.

In contrast, second-class and first-class citizens possess superior innate "hardware"—faster processing and higher memory—allowing them to pursue multiple professions simultaneously. Du Xue, for example, is a first-class citizen.

"As Little Cat would say, it's like playing an RPG wasteland management game. Each 'character' has specific aptitudes: first-class citizens have three skill slots, second-class citizens have two, and third-class citizens have one. Since each team member possesses different natural abilities, it's up to you to decide which skills to 'assign points' for them to learn."

She assessed the professional distribution within her team. "The newcomer, Mizahl, shows decent medical talent; perhaps he could learn 'Medical Mastery'... Finding a truly skilled survivor is incredibly difficult!"

Professional skills aren't universally applicable or easily transferred to anyone. For instance, if someone possesses a natural talent for medicine but you attempt to implant "Mech Piloting Mastery" knowledge into their brain, the results will be extremely poor, and they won't be able to utilize it effectively.

In truth, she was more interested in finding a mechanic who could repair mechs. She hoped to acquire "Mechanical Specialization" knowledge from them, which could then be copied and learned by other camp members, thereby adding the mechanic profession to their roster.

"If our camp had mechanics who could repair mechs, things would be much easier," she mused, pressing her forehead with a growing sense of leadership. "Other nearby survivor camps haven't found such skilled individuals either. The network is down now; we used to be able to download anything we needed, and no one ever worried about this kind of resource scarcity."

Too many survivors congregating would attract zombie hordes, making it impossible for them to live together. Consequently, the city of Norny is home to seventeen survivor teams of various sizes.

She also kept secret that she possessed a dynamic key, granting her the highest authority and allowing her to operate outside the law.

She lowered her gaze, contemplating the knowledge within her brain: three skill sets encompassing combat and magic. "Little Cat told me to develop the ability of Resolve (Awakening), which I can freely activate and deactivate."

She closed her eyes, feeling an escalating difficulty, as if barely clinging to survival in a dire situation. "I heard that not only are Lickers a deepening disaster, but Tyrants have also emerged from the depths, monstrously large and having reverted to ape-like forms. Furthermore, it seems there's a hidden hand behind the recent zombie hordes, actively herding them."

A hidden mastermind?

What kind of entity can control zombies? Is it a special type of zombie, or something entirely different?

The world's catastrophe continued to spread.

At this very moment, in another section of ruins outside the camp...

A balloon floated in the sky, scouting, observing the roaring zombie horde below. "Youngsters," a voice mused, "unless you're sixth-tier, you can't fly. And your intelligence isn't high enough to operate an aircraft."

As for encountering a sixth-tier zombie, he didn't believe his luck would be that bad.

As he flew, he observed his team covertly approaching a black Licker at a fountain plaza. The creature was covered in oozing decay and had a long, slender tongue. He picked up an old, vintage walkie-talkie to issue commands:

"Alright, this is a fourth-tier Licker. Approach it stealthily from behind—its rear is its biggest weakness!"

The group moved in stealth, closing in silently, and the mech suddenly slammed down.

"Hey, we got it! It's struggling hard! Damn it! It broke free!"

"Quick! Follow it, and hold its aggro! Yes! Don't get licked! You, mechanical tank, taunt it! These things have no intelligence!"

"Mage, follow up! Use Mud Spells to hinder its movement! Fall back! Fall back! Do you understand kiting?"

"Male mage nearby, hold your position. You don't need to engage; your role is to mask our combat aura to avoid attracting a zombie horde or pulling too many monsters. We can't handle any more; we'll all die here."

After several minutes of fierce fighting, they successfully eliminated the target without incurring any losses.

Victory!No treats for the Licker.

Xia Naiming was extremely satisfied.

"Team fights? Playing a game?"

"This is pure professionalism."

Suddenly, a call came through on Xia Naiming's walkie-talkie from the camp. His voice immediately softened. "Darling, is everything alright?"

But the next second, his face gradually stiffened. The walkie-talkie's range shouldn't extend this far; they were already beyond 800 meters. So, who was nearby, secretly contacting him?

Walkie-talkies require frequency matching. How could the other party possibly...

A hoarse voice crackled from the other end:

"Mysterious creature, we should talk."

It was a zombie!

Xia Naiming's mind went blank. He spun his head to scan the surrounding streets and buildings.