"So this is the so-called Survivor Camp? It looks alright... much better than the temporary mining area in Belobog."
March stood on her tiptoes, her gaze sweeping across the surroundings.
Here in the Scrapyard, these "survivors" had carved out a patch of land from the garbage heap, a place where one could actually see the ground. Using local materials, they had built nurous small huts of varying sizes but uniform style.
In short, "junk houses." The materials for these mismatched buildings were all sourced from the "relatively safe" tal scrap found in the Scrapyard. Perhaps there were even so people with architectural knowledge among the survivors; amidst the pile of "junk houses," there were so two- and three-story buildings constructed purely from trash. March even saw a three-story inn called "The Survivor" standing tall among a cluster of junk houses... she just wondered if the furniture inside... was also junk?
The people here couldn't be described as emaciated, but they certainly weren't whole. After all, in this wasteland, able-bodied people were either hackers, Pathstriders, or "at" being raised by certain individuals...
In the Scrapyard, the number of cybernetics you had didn't an everything, but having none was absolutely not an option.
Even the junkiest cybernetic arm could cause your opponent to die of tetanus!
Thus, here you could see people of all shapes and sizes, equipped with a wide variety of cybernetics, gathered in a massive crowd at the main square by the Survivor Base's entrance, as if welcoming soone.
However, judging by the wary expressions of the residents and the greedy glint in so of their eyes, it was clear the person they were welcoming was not them.
"Everyone, we've arrived. This is the Survivor Camp. I... I'll be going now!"
The mont the hacker stepped into the Survivor Camp, he let out a sigh of imnse relief. He turned to the group, shot a fearful glance at Wende, and seeing him just standing there with a smile and not replying, he bolted like a frightened black rat, disappearing into the cluster of junk houses in an instant.
"Uh, is it really okay to just let him go like that?"
Stelle tugged on Wende's arm, an intriguing light flashing in her golden eyes as she watched the direction the man had fled.
"Don't be so aggressive. If it weren't for him, we'd still be clueless about the Scrapyard. This can be considered atonent for his arrogant and reckless habit of ramming people with cars."
Wende gently stroked Stelle's soft gray hair, smoothing a few strands at her temple as he smiled at her.
"Okay..."
Stelle unconsciously nuzzled against Wende's broad and warm palm and nodded obediently. Since Wende had spoken, she'd let the man who had already learned his lesson go... though she had wanted to interrogate him about the locations of nearby treasure chests...
"Look, all the residents are gathered over there. It looks so lively."
March pointed at the bustling square up ahead and turned to the others.
"Could our luck be that good? Did we arrive just in ti for so kind of local festival?"
March stroked her chin, a thoughtful look on her face.
"I doubt it. If it were a festival, that guy would have definitely told us. From the looks of it, he wouldn't dare hide anything, at least not in front of Wende," Hiko said, shaking her head.
"It seems soone important has arrived."
Dan Heng, who had been quiet, was now gazing at the crowd, his eyes piercing through the layers of people to finally land on a person wearing a mask.
"Hmm... a person wearing a mask..."
Dan Heng's brow furrowed slightly, as if he had thought of sothing unpleasant.
"What? A masked person... being welcod by so many people... It couldn't be that scrap rchant that guy ntioned, could it?"
Recalling the various stories the hacker had told them on the way, March's train of thought arrived at this conclusion with unusual clarity.
"It most likely is, but... wearing a mask..."
Hiko glanced at Dan Heng, whose expression had turned sowhat grave. In this universe, the ntion of a mask inevitably brought to mind a certain Aeon with a wicked sense of humor... and His followers, known as the [Masked Fools].
Under normal circumstances, the appearance of a Masked Fool on Punklorde might be understandable. But in this special period, his presence was sothing that required careful consideration.
"Let's go. We'll go have a look."
Hiko tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear and led the group toward the crowd.
The people of the Survivor Base were all surprised to see the Trailblazing team. After all, here, people without obvious signs of cybernetics, who were clean, and whose clothes were clearly not rags... and most importantly, whose entire deanor scread that they were not people who belonged in the Scrapyard, were a rare sight!
So who were engaged in illicit business on the side had their eyes light up upon seeing the group of handso n and beautiful won. But their little sches were quickly extinguished by the sight of the person-sized lance in Stelle's hand and the sharp glint of Cloud-Piercer in Dan Heng's.
However, it was clear that there were still plenty of people whose brains had gone haywire from too many cybernetic implants.
Before the group could even get close to the rchant who was suspected to be a Masked Fool, a gang of unfriendly-looking individuals, equipped with weaponized cybernetics or holding weapons, surrounded them.
"Yo, yo, yo? What's this? How co we're seeing fancy big shots from the city in our little dump? Did the [Big Bang] blow up your hos? Got nowhere else to go, so you've co to fight us for territory?"
The leader, who looked like a punk, held a tal pipe. His exposed tal arm was covered in oil stains, and a clump of yellowed weeds was stuck to his exposed tal scalp, as if attempting to replicate a hairstyle called a "mohawk."
"Sigh... we run into clueless people like this everywhere we go, don't we?"
March sighed softly as she watched more and more people close in around them. She then summoned her longbow, ready for a fight.
"You get used to it. I just wonder what their weaknesses are," said Stelle, shouldering her lance as she thoughtfully stared at the man's head.
"Gentlen, I believe there may be a misunderstanding between you. On my account, please refrain from this, won't you?"
A low voice suddenly ca from behind the punk leader.
"Give you face? Who the f—"
Hearing this, the punk's face instantly soured. He spun around arrogantly, ready to unleash a torrent of curses at the speaker, only to find himself staring at a bizarre mask. Behind the mask was what seed to be a pitch-black abyss, devoid of a single speck of light...
"Y-Your... Your Excellency... I... I..."
The punk, who had been so arrogant and domineering just a mont ago, instantly deflated. He waved his hands frantically at the masked rchant, and the weapon in his hand was dropped to the side the mont he saw him. Even when it landed on one of his underling's feet, the underling didn't dare cry out in pain. He could only stare in terror at the soul-sucking darkness behind the mask...
"We'll leave right now! Your Excellency is magnanimous! We really didn't know you knew these people!" the punk leader shouted in a panic, then fled as if his life depended on it.
Seeing this, his underlings also dropped their weapons and scrambled to push their way through the onlookers, running for their lives.
Gazing at the fleeing n, the masked rchant shook his head slightly. He then turned his attention to the [Naless] and offered Hiko, who was at the front, a standard gentleman's bow.
"Lady Hiko, I have long heard of your na. For you and your esteed companions to receive such discourteous treatnt upon arriving in my domain, the fault is truly mine..."
The mask was smiling, and yet not smiling, as it looked at Hiko.
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