Chapter 692.2: Many Thanks For The Ancestor's Gift?
Half an hour earlier.
On the beachhead position northwest of French Fry Harbor, darkness and silence reigned.
Without getting close and looking carefully, one would never spot the helmets hidden behind sandbags and earthworks, nor the gun barrels concealed beneath camouflage nets.
At first, 50 people manned the position. After several shifts, only about 30 remained by nightfall.
Lying beside a fixed Whirlwind grenade launcher, a player in an exoskeleton couldn’t help yawning and muttered softly, “Damn it, did those Mutant Humans swim to the South Pole or something?”
“Why haven’t they shown up yet?”
It was already past 8:00 at night in the wasteland. In their real life, it would be time to wake up and have breakfast.
Another player squatting nearby pulled a helpless face. “Who knows, there’s no guarantee it’s even Mutant Humans coming ashore. Might just be a few crabs.”
Hearing something about crabs, the guy who had been yawning instantly perked up, swallowed, and said,
“That wouldn’t be bad. Perfect chance to add an extra dish to dinner!”
“Pff...”
A player who’d stayed silent nearby almost burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking.
Seeing the rookies’ discipline slipping by the second, the squad leader, who had been watching the beach the whole time, finally had enough. He reached out and smacked the giggling doofus on the back of the head. “Keep your damn voices down! Laughing like a bunch of idiots... Are you afraid people won’t know we’re here?”
If those guys heard there were people here and decided not to come up this beach, what then? How was he supposed to farm kills?!
The player who had taken the helmet slap grinned sheepishly. The others also felt embarrassed and reined it in, turning their attention back to their respective watch points.
Just then, a head topped with a clump of grass poked up from a nearby foxhole. Vaguely hearing someone call his name, that player looked over in confusion. “Squad leader, you calling me?”
“...”
This time it wasn’t just the guy who had been laughing earlier, every rookie buried their heads and started shaking with suppressed laughter.
The worst offender went even further, bonking his head against a sandbag and logging off entirely just to laugh.
Staring at the idiot peeking out of the grass, the squad leader was about to chew him out when a serious voice came over their communication channel. “Position Four, what’s your status over there?”
Hearing inquiry, the squad leader straightened up, shot a vicious glare at the grass clump as it shrank back, and quickly lowered his voice to report. “Reporting, no activity at the moment!”
Peepo’s reply soon returned. “... Copy that. Stay alert. We’ll be rotating shifts in a few minutes, hang in there, brothers.”
The squad leader replied awkwardly, “Yes.”
There weren’t many veteran players at French Fry Harbor, mostly players between LV10 and LV20. There were also some fresh LV10 newcomers who had come to try their luck. Acting a little clueless now and then was normal.
Wasteland Online had always had a decent atmosphere. Most veteran players were pretty tolerant of newbies. After all, everyone had been there once.
Silence returned to the position, a stark contrast to the surging tide just beyond.
...
Staring at the calm, peaceful waves through binoculars, Ample Time couldn’t help frowning, his face full of worry. It had already been two hours since nightfall.
Were they really going to wait until noon the next day?
Or had the supposed attack just been his overthinking?
“... Don’t tell me they’re not coming.”
Just as doubt crept into Ample Time’s mind, a voice suddenly rang in his ears.
Sesame Paste reported, “... This is the recon team. We heard gunshots from the sea to our southwest.”
“Gunshots?” Ample Time’s heart lurched. Without hesitation, he pulled up the map on his VM.
But when he saw the blinking green dot west of the camp, he froze slightly.
Further west?
How far off was that?
In the brief second of his hesitation, another communication request popped up on his VM screen, this time from Chen Jianhong, captain of the Dolphin.
Telling Sesame Paste to stand by nearby, Ample Time immediately accepted the call.
“... Our sensors detected two consecutive explosions in the waters near you. I’m not sure if you noticed. Did you run into some kind of trouble?”
Ample Time frowned. “Explosions? We didn’t see anything here. Someone heard gunshots, though. Can you determine the approximate location of the blasts?”
Chen Jianhong replied, “To our east, so... about five kilometers west of you, I think. I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“Copy that. Maintain radio silence and don’t contact us unless necessary.”
“Understood.”
After hanging up, Ample Time switched back to the VM map and quickly saw the synchronized coordinates from the Dolphin.
They even included an estimated blast radius.
Two flashing question marks sat about five kilometers west of French Fry Harbor, almost right up against the northern shore of the strait. Ample Time couldn’t help but pause.
Hot damn.
Were these Mutant Humans trying to play distraction tactics with him?
But going around from the west wouldn’t help much...
The Burning Corps and Jungle Corps were stationed on the high ground northwest of the camp, with wide-open sightlines. With agility type and perception type players spotting and calling targets, a few machine guns and mortars would pin those beasts dead on the beach. If anything, coming straight up from the southern docks would’ve given them a slightly better fighting chance.
Only slightly.
Just then, Peepo, who had just finished rotating positions with friendly forces, walked over. Before he could speak, Ample Time looked at him and said, “Peepo, take a team and check the west.”
Peepo froze for a moment, swallowed all the questions about whether the Mutant Humans were coming at all, and asked in confusion, “The west? Where exactly?”
“About five kilometers west, there were two explosions in the water. I’ve updated the approximate coordinates on your map. Just follow the coastline and head west.” As he spoke, Ample Time tapped the screen, already finishing the mission route.
Seeing Ample Time’s serious expression, Peepo instantly perked up, all boredom wiped from his face.
“Roger!” He answered and immediately sprinted off, gathering the 30-odd teammates who’d just dispersed and reforming the squad. “Brothers, we’ve got action! Follow your daddy west, I’ll take you out to see the world!”
Hearing there was action, the group that had looked half-dead a second ago lit up instantly. Grabbing their gear, they followed the LV30+ veteran, chattering as they moved out.
“Boss! Who’s the enemy?”
“Mutant Humans?”
“Heard they’re blue skinned!”
“Are the drops valuable?”
Seeing how green these rookies were, Peepo chuckled. Coincidentally, he hadn’t seen them either. But that was fine, he was about to. “Enough questions. Two explosions happened five kilometers west of our position. Whatever’s coming, we’ll make those idiots regret picking a fight with us!”
After hustling along the jungle’s edge, the group finally reached the coordinates and immediately spotted the miserable figures crawling ashore on the beach.
Seeing those soaking-wet people in the distance, Peepo didn’t even need to ask. He had already pieced together what had happened.
These guys were probably just passing through the strait and, by sheer bad luck, ran into Mutant Humans looking for trouble.
What absolutely insane luck.
His conscience won out, and Peepo resisted laughing. He shouted toward the beach, “Hey there, friends up ahead! Get away from the shoreline, we’re here to rescue you!”
Having just crawled ashore in a sorry state, Dilrang instantly tensed when he heard the shout from the forest. He snapped his gaze toward the nearby jungle and raised his rifle. “Who’s there?!”
Peepo shouted back, “We’re with the New Alliance!”
The New Alliance?!
Hearing the name, Dilrang’s expression changed drastically. He roared and flipped off the rifle safety.
“It’s the New Alliance!”
“Prepare for battle!”
The guard beside him reacted even faster, raising his rifle and firing a shot into the pitch-black forest, then dragging his superior toward cover.
Startled by the bang and seeing the bullet fly his way, Peepo thought they had an accidental discharge and yelled, “Holy shit, we’re humans! The ones screwing you are Mutant Humans, not us! Look carefully and put your safeties back on...”
But they didn’t listen. Before he could finish, another shot rang out, this time tracking his voice and slamming into the tree beside him.
As if that were a signal, gunfire erupted across the beach in rapid succession.
The 40 or 50 men who had reached shore fired as they spread out, some dropping prone to dig shallow foxholes, others rolling behind rocks for cover. Ignoring their bedraggled state, they assumed firing positions and laid down suppressive fire toward the players in the forest.
The chaotic gunfire included shots from Eviscerator rifles, Army-standard Blade assault rifles, and PU-9 submachine guns.
Now Peepo understood, it wasn’t an accident. Those guys were deliberately picking a fight.
More and more soldiers swam ashore or landed in escape boats, charging in like a beach assault. They didn’t even bother brushing mud off their pants, no matter what was biting at their heels, they just opened fire toward the land.
Peepo, who had been ready to lend a hand, snapped. He no longer cared about misunderstandings. Every one of those guys was armed with ammo packs on their backs and entrenching tools hanging from their waists. Calling them innocent passersby was a stretch.
They were clearly there to cause trouble.
Seeing the number of people on shore climbing rapidly into the hundreds, Peepo roared at the guys behind him.
“Damn it!”
“These idiots don’t just refuse our help, they’re shooting at us!”
“Beat the living shit out of them!”
