At the same time that Tianhong was killed in the chaotic army by the commander of the Desert Army, Morton, who had been transformed into a bionic man on the other side of the battlefield, also fell under the stray bullets of the Death Legion.

His legs were blown off, one arm was broken, and there was not a single intact part left on his body. The damage report on the main control program kept sounding.

Yet, even so, he did not stop fighting. Instead, using his remaining left hand, he drew his sidearm, attempting to aim at the charging Claw of Death.

"Bang——!"

The bullet flew out of the chamber but narrowly missed the target.

"Roar!!!"

The Claw of Death let out a furious roar and in an instant reached close, biting off Morton's remaining arm, tearing it brutally from his shoulder.

Sparks of electricity scattered everywhere, and a thick smoke rose from Morton's shoulder.

The Claw of Death stomped on his chest, threw away the half arm in its mouth, and again opened its fierce, bloody maw.

Morton looked at it expressionlessly, calmly awaiting death, but saw its open mouth being restrained.

Perhaps worried that its mount might eat something bad, a cavalryman clad in exoskeleton jumped off the lizard's back, casually taking the engineer shovel hanging beside the lizard.

The shovel had a sharpened edge on the side, usable as a bayonet or a demolition axe.

As he watched the man walking toward him, Morton, who had been silent, suddenly spoke.

"I don't understand..."

Looking at the bionic man waiting to die on the ground, Edge Shoveling raised his eyebrows while holding the engineer shovel.

"Don't understand what?"

Morton stared into his eyes, speaking in intermittent electronic sounds.

"How... did you do it? We... have at least... four active United Human officers. We predicted we might withstand it... but not to... the Wasteland Wanderers, not this quickly."

According to the calculated deduction, the three lines of defense deployed around Shelter No.13 should at least hold for half a month, no way they couldn't last even one night.

However, the result of this war was beyond his expectations.

The mechanical soldiers that were supposed to hold out longer succumbed to a systemic collapse in a way he hadn't anticipated, while these organic beings held out longer than he expected...

"Active officers are still alright..."

Looking at the confused hunk of iron, Edge Shoveling grinned and teased.

"Your war lasted three years, ours lasted two centuries. What makes you think you're more professional? Just because there's a United Human rubber stamp on your rank?"

The electronic eyes embedded in the lump of iron flickered slightly, then dimmed.

"I see..."

They had lived in the glory of the past for too long.

Whether it was celestial beings.

Or themselves before becoming celestial beings...

Morton didn't speak, seemingly finally understanding everything, silently accepting this failed outcome.

The gunfire in the distance continued.

Although the commander was dead, the mechanical soldiers unaware of death did not stop but continued to execute the previous orders.

Even though they had lost the reason to continue fighting.

In some sense, they and their celestial creators might be similar people.

Their era had ended.

Still living 200 years ago, not only did they not become the building blocks for rebuilding the world, but they became the obstacles to people's journey to the New Epoch...

The burning steel filled the wasteland beneath the old space elevator, the clash of blood and fire lasted the entire night until the dawn hung at the misty horizon.

With the scrapping of the last humanoid combat armor, this slaughter finally ended with the Alliance's victory.

As for the cost.

Though not devastating, neither was it light.

Even after the orbital gun's first-strike strategic strike wiped out the Enlightenment Society's surface combatants and mutant Cannon Fodder, the celestial's robot army still caused significant casualties to the players.

In just one battle, the total casualties of over a dozen participating legions reached twenty thousand.

Among them, the Death Legion suffered the most severe casualties, with 11,000 members perishing.

Of course, their numbers were the largest in the worldwide community, long maintaining around 30,000.

As for the Skeleton Corps, primarily made of armored units, the casualties were surprisingly not as heavy.

Blood dyed the reddish-brown sand even redder, resembling a glowing sea of blood in the morning light.

The only consolation was that players who died in battle wouldn't truly die.

Three days later, they would awaken from the cultivation chamber and once again see the sun shining over the earth...

...

The official website of Wasteland OL was bustling with activity.

The Backseat Drivers were busy stirring up arguments, debating the strengths of the celestial beings and the Enlightenment Society compared to other forces in the Wasteland, while players who prematurely logged off waited for the latest battle updates from their recently deceased brothers.

Soon after, the victory reports from the frontlines came in, and the official website's reward announcement simultaneously flooded the screens.

"Tarlan Raider" wasn't the only one earning rewards and a limited title from the Worldwide Announcement.

Including Edge Shoveling, including Brother Mole, almost everyone unlocked their achievements and proudly entered the website's Hall of Fame.

After waiting for months, they finally had a satisfying decisive battle, and almost all participating players thoroughly enjoyed it.

Plus, with the generous activity points and rewards, the three-day resurrection CD and withdrawal symptoms seemed not so hard to endure.

Perhaps.

Edge Shoveling: "Thrilling! Hahaha! Haven't felt this thrilled in a while! (Grinning)"

Drum Washing Machine: "Just a bit lonely and cold, didn't expect the Enlightenment Society to be so fragile, got taken down with just one map cannon shot. (Sigh)"

Debt Giant Eye: "Speaking of which, since the Enlightenment Society is down, is it time for the Eastern Empire next? (Smirk)"

Elena: "Salen: Don't come over here guys!! (Funny)"

Gnome King Riches: "Doesn't feel like it, can't just take down everything we see that's different from us. (Funny)"

Mole on the Run in the Valley: "Unless a new expansion pack comes out. (Funny)"

Leftover Old Man: "But they're still in slavery now, a rational analysis isn't impossible."

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Though that may be, they've already started changing. For instance, New West Port is actually a good beginning. Although the power of the people there is currently still small, they will eventually grow and become a political force driving change in the Eastern Empire. If we intervene recklessly, it may backfire, and possibly create another mishmash."

The previous army was indeed a mishmash, and after disbandment, it actually became normal.

The Eastern Empire is not the Eastern Empire because they have a king named Salen, but because of the deep-seated common hope within all who live on that land.

The latter is the reason, while the former is just the result.

In this regard, the Vellante people from Welch Governorate and Bartoya Province have essential differences.

The former already possessed constitutional traditions during Julius's era, otherwise, even if the Leader shouted until his throat was hoarse, it wouldn't change anything.

While the Southern Legion, although briefly embarked on a militaristic path, society's main bodies were citizens, officers, and industrialists, differing fundamentally from the Eastern Legion where landlords and military aristocrats served as the main societal roles.

Whether the Vellante of the Eastern Empire admit it or not, the ecological niche of the usurper is objectively existent, including the tens of thousands of Slave Owners dependent on the usurper.

Once the tangible emperor falls, the intangible emperor will emerge to fill the vacant ecological niche.

This is not just the Eastern Empire's issue but a shared issue of all forms of feudal coexistence.

In fact, relatively speaking, the Eastern Empire is considerably more advanced in its feudal system.

At least, whether it's their emperor or the tens of thousands of military aristocrats themselves, there's an ingrained desire for progress in their brains.

I Max Black: "Tsk, why does your tone increasingly resemble Fang Chang's."

Kakarot: "Reasonably suspect, probably because of some affair with an NPC. (Smirk)"

Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "??? "

Falling Feather: "I'm only curious about one thing now, what will the next expansion be. (Looking at the sky)"

Feng Qing: "Maybe another planet?"

Pick up trash 99 level: "Come on, wouldn't that be a bit too much of a jump? (Stunned)"

Mole on the Run in the Valley: "You guys are really hard to please, you were shouting about flying while you hadn't even stepped out of Qingquan City, and now you're hesitant when it seems you might actually fly? (Funny)"

Laplace: "Wait, does that mean Wasteland OL is just the prequel to the official game background setting?! (Surprised)"

Lady, you wouldn't want: "Though it feels problematic everywhere, there's something oddly reasonable about it. (Cry-laughing)"

Pick up trash 99 level: "Awesome! Using the prequel as a test version is invincible."

Tail: "Oh oh oh! 'Starry Sky OL', activating! (puts on sunglasses)"

Difficult for the strong: "Crying, can I delete my character and reroll? (crying)"

Outlaw Maniac: "Speaking of which, why didn't we see Old White showing off this time? Doesn't add up."

Spring Water Commander: "Their battlefield isn't on the ground; it's at the Lagrange point. I remember their attack time is about the same as ours, so it probably hasn't ended yet."

Thunder Law King Professor Yang: "Good guy, they've already started playing 'Starry Sky OL'?"

Dinosaur Warrior: "It's doable, already got installed. (cries)"

Escape Mole from the Canyon: "(absurd)"

...

The war on the ground has ended.

The NPC army of the Alliance's First Legion started to move in, and after a brief rest, players began to clean up the battlefield.

The Enlightenment Society left quite a few good things behind.

Especially the exoskeletons and power armor scattered across the battlefield, which were nearly ninety percent new and just needed a wash to be ready for use, making the players who'd never seen such things delighted.

Even though these pieces of equipment aren't automatically owned by whoever picks them up and must be exchanged according to battlefield points, there's no problem "trying them on" before handing them over.

The NPCs in 'Wasteland OL' aren't as rigid as those in other games and won't excessively investigate the origins of the items on players; only during "register binding" will there be relatively strict audit procedures.

Aside from the equipment and remnants left on the battlefield, the most valuable are undoubtedly the black boxes the Enlightenment Society collected and the production facilities restored through these boxes.

These black boxes were stolen by the Enlightenment Society from other shelters and have now become the treasures of the Alliance.

The heavy trucks of the First Legion drove in waves into the production facilities of the Enlightenment Society and then drove toward the Lavanka Industrial Zone.

These treasures will be packed into containers and shipped to the ports of Death Coast, where their destination will be decided based on their usage, either transported to the Dawn City Industrial Zone or kept at Death Coast to support local construction.

Just as players were scavenging enthusiastically on the battlefield, a group of people approached from the direction of the Lavanka Industrial Zone.

Evidently, the scent of blood in the air didn't only attract the vultures but also the nearby scavengers.

When the Enlightenment Society and mutant mercenaries were active in this area, almost no one dared to approach this region, but now the situation is different.

Seeing trucks heading to the Lavanka Industrial Zone, even the dullest people realized who won the great battle last night.

Following the tire tracks on the ground, scavengers along the way came here one after another.

Seeing more and more scavengers gathering, the player on duty at the checkpoint stepped forward and shouted to the noisy crowd.

"The battlefield is still being cleaned up; it's not safe here. I suggest you come over after it's secured."

The scavengers made a ruckus.

A woman with brown skin and hair tied into dreadlocks stepped forward, shouting at the player in front of the checkpoint.

"Sir, we're here to do this work. What's left for us if we wait for it to be safe?"

Her muddy pupils carried a hint of respect and cunning, the rest being vigilance.

Even though the Alliance's reputation is good, nobody can be sure the rumors are true.

But regardless, she was willing to try her luck here.

After all, no other place offering trash could compare to this treasure trove beneath the space elevator.

Before the player could respond, several scavengers at the front of the crowd shouted.

"Sir, we can help clean the battlefield... at a fair price."

"We have no other intentions; we just want to earn a living."

The two players exchanged glances, then one of them stepped forward and said to the scavengers at the front.

"We understand your situation; I don't see any problem with it, but I can't decide. I need to consult with our superior."

"Thank you."

The female scavenger winked at him.

Though her unique style was rather "wasteland punk," it didn't interest the young player, instead making him a bit embarrassed.

His bashful manner sparked laughter around him, livening the atmosphere at the checkpoint significantly.

The local wasteland wanderers were more enthusiastic and exuberant compared to those in the River Valley Province, though their appearance left much to be desired.

The information passed through the ranks and was quickly reported to the staff headquarters of the First Legion.

After discussion, the highest commander, "Wrench," swiftly approved the scavengers' application.

Although unexploded stray bullets and leftover war machines might pose safety risks, they had more than just safety to consider while stationed here—they also needed to establish a reliable order locally.

Assigning these scavengers jobs is part of establishing order.

Rather than letting them risk capture and death sneaking into the battlefield to steal spoils, it was better to enlist most of them at a fair price and then deal with the reckless desperados using iron fist tactics, increasing the risk and cost for the latter.

Ultimately, when the battlefield is cleaned up, they'll give this junkyard back to the scavengers and buy valuable disassembled items from them at a fair price, thus transitioning from wartime order to peacetime order.

The Manager plans to build a new settlement here.

Besides settling nearby scavengers, the gentleman also wishes for the residents of Shelter No. 13 to participate in the construction of this settlement, allowing them to once again bear the responsibilities and duties they once abandoned...

...

The entrance to Shelter No. 13, the alloy door slowly opened.

Led by the Watchers, people hurriedly passed through the long corridor, leaving behind the cradle that sheltered them for over a century.

Ahead is the wasteland.

It's also their new home going forward.

The morning sunshine reflected on faces with diverse expressions as people gazed at the desolate ruins and battlefield, their faces full of confusion and hesitation.

Until yesterday, they'd been listening to Director Feng's sweet talk, believing that as long as they joined forces with the Enlightenment Society and celestial beings, their future would be infinitely bright and full of promise.

However, reality said otherwise—

What they saw were ruins filled with scars and scattered death.

"Ahead is the wasteland..."

Gazing at the road before them, the Medical Miracle said to Director Feng and his dedicated secretary beside him.

"You've been living comfortably for 200 years; it's time you faced reality."

Feng Zhiheng looked into his eyes, his pale face from blood loss showing little expression, taking a long time to squeeze a sentence out of his mouth.

"Actually, you've seen... most people really aren't prepared."

The Medical Miracle laughed and said.

"So what?"

Looking at this unsympathetic guy, Feng Zhiheng's mouth slightly twitched, speaking in a low voice.

"Because of your plan, they were hastily driven out... is this fair to us?"

Before the Medical Miracle could respond, Zhuang Lan, who had been walking beside them carrying the Enlightenment Society's president by the neck, answered first.

"I should be asking you that when Shelter No. 68 opened its doors to explore the method of rebuilding a civilized world, you people at Shelter No. 13 were already living a Prosperity Epoch life—was that fair to us?"

Feng Zhiheng's gaze darted evasively but ultimately couldn't avoid that sharp look and pushed the question aside.

"So?"

"You've proved those beggars weren't worth saving; they were the root of all problems—"

"Anyone can discuss this issue, but not you," Zhuang Lan said word by word while looking into his eyes, "including me."

And why is that? Because the shelters weren't built to protect anyone; they were built to protect everyone.

This is the legitimacy that allows them to sacrifice some people's lives to gather strength for others to survive first.

From the start, it existed to preserve the seeds of civilization, even if the process might have some twists.

If this most basic responsibility could be shirked, then the police could refuse to enforce the law because the victims weren't perfect, and firefighters could refuse to rush into fires because the victims were also arsonists.

But clearly, that can't happen.

Whether it's worth it is for later generations to judge, but saving those who survive is the Blue Jacket's duty right now.

Seeing Director Feng, who was speechless, Zhuang Lan suddenly curled her lips in a teasing manner.

"No wonder they didn't call you Manager, and you never called yourself that either."

Looking at the confused face, she said in a half-joking tone.

"At least you do have some self-awareness."

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