Chapter 16: This Is How You Play Open-World Games!
In the Linghu Wetland Park, piles of wood of varied sizes lay outside the nursing home.
“I heard that recently cut wood will crack and deform if it’s not processed..." Old White muttered as he held up his axe and looked at the logs piled up along the walls.
Ample Time asked, "How do you usually process it?"
Thinking for a moment, he replied, "We could dry out the wood, or paint the wood on both ends and let it dry naturally. We can also throw them in water, but it will be more difficult to get them back out. I hope it won’t rain in the next few days…"
Combined with the results of their work the day before, if they cut all those logs down to three or four meters stakes before sharpening the ends and shoving them into the ground, they should have enough to repair both the North and West walls of the nursing home. The only problem they had was that the logs were unprocessed and it was difficult to ensure the sturdiness. They might just rot after enduring a few rainy days.
He discussed it with Ample Time and decided to switch up their methods and use cement as a building material instead.
There was a lot of concrete waste on the wasteland, even in the nursing home. After years of weathering, thermal expansion, and contraction, wind, and rain, most of those concrete blocks had peeled off from their steel bars and turned into slag. There was no need to try reusing them directly. If they could mix the slag with fresh cement and pour them around steel bars removed from the ruins, simple concrete fortifications would be easy enough to build.
Although it was a tofu-dreg project, it would be much better than wood. It wasn’t like they were planning on building a skyscraper!
If that was what they really planned to do, they first needed to come up with a way to produce cement. To make cement, they needed enough coal and a kiln that could withstand high temperatures of one thousand four hundred and fifty degrees celsius.
Gale and Night Ten returned, and Ample Time noticed that the plastic bucket Gale was carrying was full of some sort of mud that had a smooth texture.
"There is a river to the east. On the map, there wasn’t a river, so it had to have formed in the past two hundred years. We explored the shoreline all the way down south and marked out several areas where mutants are active. We also noted down the locations of suspected nests." Gale signaled for Night Ten to retrieve the map which they had marked with charcoal. With the map, it would make fetching water much safer. However, Ample Time’s attention was on the bucket he was holding.
"What's in there?"
"I found it by the river," Gale continued, placing the bucket on the ground, "I thought we could use it as building material, and I brought it back.”
"That can't be used as building material. It would easily be washed away by water." Crouching on the ground, Old White stretched out his hand to pick up some mud while rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. A look of excitement gradually appeared on his face. "But it’s not a total loss! We have material to build our kiln now."
"Kiln?" Night Ten was dazed.
"I’ve discussed it with Old White, and we plan to make cement." Ample Time said.
Gale looked at him in surprise, "Are you sure that you can do that in this game?"
"What's wrong? Isn't this an open-world game?" Old White stood up and said excitedly, "Pour the mud here, and you two can bring several more buckets back. Ample Time can go pick up some branches. Let’s move!”
"Okay." Ample Time agreed and left eagerly.
Gale and Night Ten stared at each other and slowly walked away with dazed expressions. They were still trying to process what just happened.
...
The river wasn’t deep, but there was a lot of silt on its banks. It wasn’t far from the nursing home either. It didn’t take much effort for them to bring several bucketfuls back.
Old White poured out an initial outline of a circle for the kiln before digging two holes around it as an air inlet. He placed some coal and dead leaves into the circle and lit them with the match the Administrator left behind.
The fire rose quickly, and the surrounding silt slowly dried. Old White dug more of it with his hands before plastering them around the dried-up walls of the kiln after it was dry. The process repeated and when it was finally as tall as his thighs, he pushed a stick as thick as his thumb into it.
"What’s this?" Ample Time stared curiously at what he was doing. Although he had played survival games before, he had never done such meticulous work.
"We’re burning charcoal! Without coal, we can only use charcoal. If we want to make cement, we can't burn wood. We have to start with the most basic form of fuel..."
"How do you know all this?"
"This was how I spent my time in my hometown when I was young…” Old White mumbled.
"..." Who the fuck built kilns to play when they were young?!
Standing up, Old White clapped his hands before sealing the top of the kiln. That was after he set fire to some wood he placed inside earlier. This step was critical. Before the wood was lit, he needed to leave a hole at the top until the temperature in the kiln was high enough. Then he would seal all the holes with mud and let the wood inside char for a day. After that, he would be able to harvest a full kiln of charcoal.
"If you fill all the holes, won’t the fire go out?"
"It won't go out right away, and that’s what we need." Old White wiped his sweat and patted Ample Time on the shoulder, "Don't just stand there. Let's build a few more kilns."
"Okay…"
Ample Time wasn’t the only one who joined Old White’s construction team. Even Gale and Night Ten were called in after they brought enough silt back.
All four players worked together to build four kilns to make charcoal. There was also a slightly larger one made with aluminosilicate clay dug near the river.
With what they achieved, Old White figured they could try to make some cement the next day.
What he intended to make was plant ash cement. The cement produced by this primitive method had no technical difficulties and was stronger than wood, but it wasn’t too reliable. With plant ash cement, they could try to build a cement kiln that could withstand higher temperatures. Old White had decided that he would look up the information on the internet when he went offline.
"God damn it... I finally understand why the administrator asked us to find a way to build a bathhouse." Smelling the stench of sweat, Night Ten, who had a little mysophobia, felt like he was going to die. The game was just too hardcore.
"Why don't we go to the lake and take a bath before going offline?" Old White suggested.
"Sure... But what about the administrator? It's almost time to go, why hasn't he returned yet?" Gale asked.
"Maybe he has something else to do."
"How do we let him know the results of our labor today?" Night Ten asked quickly.
Ample Time glanced at the nursing home behind him. "Don't worry about it. I already talked to Little Seven. It said it had recorded our results and would report the situation to the administrator when he returns."
Night Ten felt a lot more relieved after hearing what he said.
...
Just as the players went offline, took off their helmets, and got ready for a new day, Chu Guang, who was still on Baker Street, carefully removed the plastic bucket from under the water purifier. Baker Street had a public water well, and every household had its own water tank. Chu Guang was no exception. Except for the Glowing Rain which contained radioactive dust, or when the clouds were obviously abnormal, the rain on the wasteland was normally very safe. It was even safer than the rain in the pre-war era. After all, it had been two hundred years since the fall of civilization. Acid rain and smog were things of the past.
Of course, drinking rainwater itself wasn’t a great idea.
After cutting the plastic water bottle through the middle, Chu Guang placed a layer of dried pine needles and moss under the mouth of the bottle. Topping it with crushed charcoal ash, he made a simple water filter.
Chu Guang didn’t know whether graphite could absorb radiation, but in the outer suburbs far away from the nuclear crater, diarrhea and dehydration were greater threats to survival than radiation.
He recalled the first month of him being in the wasteland. He had diarrhea every other day and he almost shit himself to death instead of dying at the hands of mutants.
"Less than ten liters… A drop in the bucket." Looking at the bottles and cans in the room, Chu Guang sighed. The players had only been there a few days, but they nearly used up the supplies he saved. He had to do something about it.
Hearing a knock on his door, Chu Guang got up. He pulled the latch to open the door.
He was greeted with the sight of Xiaoyu with her hands behind her back. She stood silently in place and she didn’t say anything. She simply stared at him with her big smoky eyes.
Chu Guang, who had just wanted to say hello, suddenly recalled what her brother said. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.
Even if there was no Shelter 404, no system, no players, and he was helpless with the only option left being to try and integrate into the society here, he still couldn’t bring himself to do anything to her. She was too skinny. At the very least, he would have to wait for another two years.
"How can I help?" Chu Guang said calmly.
Yu Xiaoyu stretched out her arms she had hidden behind her back. Chu Guang saw that she was holding a small piece of black cake in her hand. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was made from green wheat.
"My second brother asked me to give this to you, and he told me to tell you that I made it for you." She said each word slowly.
It took Chu Guang a long time before he figured out what she was saying.
As it turned out, Yu Hu asked her to give him the cake.
"Thanks?"
"No need."
Putting the cake into Chu Guang's hands, Xiaoyu turned around and ran away, leaving Chu Guang at a loss as the dry wind buffered against him.
...
The modern world, Jinling.
Taking off his helmet, Yan Feng rubbed the bridge of his nose. He reached out his hand, fumbled for a while on his bedside table, and found his glasses. After sitting on the side of the bed and thinking for a while, he got up and went to the bathroom.
It was half past five. Except for graduate students, few people came to the cafeteria that early. The hall was empty, with only a few open service windows near the door. The aunt who manned the cafeteria, who was busy behind a window, recognized her regular customer at a glance and greeted him with a big smile.
"Professor Yan, you’re so early today."
"Mhm, I went to bed early yesterday. Can I have two buns, please?" Yan Feng asked politely.
"The buns are steaming, you’ll have to wait a while."
"No rush."
Yan Feng took out his meal card and swiped it on the card reader.
The mist from the steamer was very fragrant and Yan Feng loved it. It gave off a comfortable feeling, but it wasn’t very friendly to people who wore glasses like himself.
Taking off his glasses and wiping the fogged lenses, Yan Feng couldn't help but think of his role in Wasteland Online.
Although he was weaker than the others in the virtual world, he was still a lot stronger than what he would be back in real life. More importantly, he wasn’t short-sighted in the game!
The next second, he felt someone patting his shoulders. Yan Feng put his glasses on and turned around only to be greeted by the sight of Wang Haiyang.
"You have classes this early?" Wang Haiyang asked with a raised eyebrow.
Yan Feng smiled in response, "Nope, I just got up early."
"I thought those who study physics stay up really late…"
"That’s not true. I rarely take my work home." Pushing up his glasses, Yan Feng suddenly thought of something. He looked at him and said, "By the way, I want to consult with you about something."
Professor Wang Haiyang raised his eyebrows, "Is it about the discussion we had yesterday?"
Yan Feng nodded. "Mhm."
"Wait a minute, let me ask before you continue… Is the novel you’re talking about going to be one you’re writing yourself?" Professor Wang Haiyang asked with a smile, "It's good for a novel to be realistic, but it will be very boring if it’s exactly the same as reality."
After thinking for a moment, Yan Feng sighed, "Actually, it's not a novel. It's… a game."
"Game?"
"Mhm," Taking the buns from the aunt, Yan Feng pushed them out of the plastic bag and took a bite. "It’s a post-apocalyptic game."
Professor Wang Haiyang’s interest was piqued and asked, "Can you be a little bit more specific?"
"I don't know the specifics. The game is still in alpha testing." Yan Feng paused for a while before he continued, "Say, how developed does a society need to be to make cars without power?"
"No power supply?" Professor Wang Haiyang was stunned. After thinking for some time, he wondered out loud, "Are you saying that they’re using a remote power supply technology instead of a fixed power supply?"
"Is it difficult?" Yan Feng asked.
"I don’t know if it’s difficult, but from my professional point of view... Wireless power supply technology isn’t the hard part. The difficulty lies in how we obtain cheap and clean energy. Even if the energy loss reaches 90% or more, the cost is still acceptable."
He paused for a moment and he continued jokingly, “Apart from the controlled nuclear fission depicted in science fiction, I can't think of a better solution.”
Was it nuclear fission?
Yan Feng revealed a pensive thought and mumbled, "I see..."
It seemed that the plot for Wasteland Online was bigger than he imagined. There would be many things worth digging into.
"When is your novel going to be published? Can you show it to me?" Professor Wang Haiyang joked, "Maybe I can give you some advice…”
Yan Feng glanced at him and grumbled softly, "I said it's not a novel."
"Alright, alright, if you say it isn’t, it isn’t!”
Grabbing his own breakfast, Wang Haiyang smiled and patted the shoulder of his colleague. "I still have a class to teach, so I’ll leave first. Good luck!"
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