"What the hell, it actually hurts! It’s so damn real! Hahaha!"
Wildman, carrying a huge hammer, smashing from house to house, whether it’s a wall or a door, anything he set his eyes on is doomed.
"Damn, these destruction effects, I could play this for a hundred years and never get tired of it, way better than Rainbow Six’s wall destruction, right?"
If someone came to the hill town, they’d see two maniacs: one swinging a hammer everywhere, the other wielding a chainsaw, wanting to cut through everything—cars, doors, arcade machines, even lampposts weren’t spared—and their faces bore wild smiles, satisfied by their urge to destroy.
Clearly, anyone sane could diagnose them with cyberpsychosis at a glance.
Potato, responsible for collecting materials to recycle, glanced at these two letting loose, shaking his head.
"Damn, no wonder they’re IQ 3 idiots, even happy to do backbreaking labor."
"That’s different, this isn’t real." Brother Ni used a ruler and a marker to draw the shape he needed on a pressed composite board, then started cutting with a small hand saw. He had some crafting skills in real life, often taking game cosplay prop orders. Regardless of quality, at least they looked the part.
"Low intelligence doesn’t necessarily mean bad things; since there are attribute differences, perhaps in the future there will be class divisions. Different attributes might represent different career paths. Since completing tasks isn’t a way to level up, maybe the way they train now could be a method to increase physical attributes?"
"Makes sense, brother. No wonder you’re the man with slightly higher attributes than us, definitely different."
With Brother Ni’s suggestion, Potato sped up delivering and cutting waste materials.
Meanwhile, Lin Miao encountered something a bit different.
It was human, and an enemy.
Two Night Wanderers parked their car by the roadside smoking and peeing. The paint on their car was so recognizable. Lin Miao hid in the weeds on the other side of the road; his car was hidden in the mountain nook.
The Night Wanderer gang’s numbers were unknown, and they were similar to the Cleaners—a chaotic gang refusing any order, second-rate scum, they enjoy modifying vehicles and racing, often raiding Wanderer tribes in the wilderness, not trustworthy. Even if someone hired them to transport people or goods, it rarely ends well, usually killing the employer and stealing the goods along with the payment... This is basically all Lin Miao found out.
Their style is quite avant-garde: shirtless, sleeveless vests, Mohawks—like those who ride motorbikes, swing chains around Lin Miao while sticking their tongues out laughing, and if Lin Miao were to rip his clothes off to the ’One Bowl of Prawns’ BGM, revealing his scarred, robust upper body with the Big Dipper scars, and use the North Star Hundred Crack Fist to beat them all to death, it wouldn’t seem out of place.
But Lin Miao didn’t know the North Star Hundred Crack Fist, and although he’s robust, he definitely couldn’t beat Night Wanderers equipped with implants.
A mere body trained through exercise can’t compare to steel, can it? (Serious face)
The distance between both parties wasn’t far. Lin Miao crouched among the dry grass could vaguely hear their casual conversation. He held his breath, trying hard to distinguish their talk.
A red-haired Mohawk lying on the hood said, "Damn it, been running this road dozens of times daily for a week, haven’t seen a damn thing, it’s suffocating."
Next to him, the bald Night Wanderer leaning against the car door took a smoke, impatiently snubbing out the cigarette and flicking it away, "Who the hell made you nearly lose the boss’s goods last month, causing trouble for me too? We watched as Chris and those bastards got the fat job; that’s a whole convoy of Chun Er, a deal worth hundreds of thousands, if it’d gone through, even freeloading a bit would let me live lavishly for months."
"Okay, okay, what’s the point of complaining here, acting like it’s all my fault. If your shooting was just a bit accurate, taking out those chasing idiots, would I have crashed the car into a pole? Bullets were flying right at my face!"
The red-haired Mohawk also looked annoyed, turned over from the hood, patted his companion’s shoulder.
Pointing to the small uphill road behind them, he said, "Heard there’s a town up there, used to be Adcardo’s. Now everyone’s gone, let’s go see if there’s anything valuable."
His companion glared at him, "If you manage to find anything, those people must be blind."
"Wanna go? What’s there to be afraid of, better than looking for some damn fat sheep on this road. Let me pee, then we’ll drive up." Saying this, the Mohawk Night Wanderer started taking off his pants by the road.
Listening to the two’s conversation across the road, Lin Miao’s gaze towards them turned cold. He originally didn’t plan to make a move, but now that these guys wanted to go up the mountain, that couldn’t happen.
With their brain chips, they could call their boss anytime; Lin Miao couldn’t possibly let them go up the mountain.
After confirming there was no one else around, he cautiously took Ajax from his back, unlocking the safety, moving with utmost care, fearing any sound might alert the two, and he definitely didn’t dare scan, who knows what implants they had. If Sianweistan suddenly popped out, even a low-level one, if they reacted, it would become very troublesome.
Lin Miao didn’t shoot immediately, instead, he took out a grenade from his waist, pulled out the pin, quietly reached out from the grass, placed the grenade on the road, then gently pushed it. The handle popped, and the cylindrical grenade rolled towards the opposite side of the road.