Dark Ruins Dawn

Chapter 27 Survival
The assembly line at night has no end.

The cans poured in from one end of the conveyor belt, making a monotonous clanging sound.

Zhuang Fan and Hua Sheng stood side by side, picking up cans of food from the conveyor belt, labeling them, and putting them back.

The body is like a pre-programmed machine. Without thinking, it repeats movements tens of thousands of times, and the muscles form memory.

The adhesive had a pungent chemical smell, but after standing there for several hours, Zhuang Fan could no longer smell it.

When the end-of-work bell rang, the people around them froze for a moment, as if all their strength had been drained, and slowly moved their bodies.

"It's finally over, I'm exhausted."

Hua Sheng wiped the sweat from his forehead. The ventilation in the workshop was intermittent, making it very stuffy and hot.

Zhuang Fan stopped what he was doing and looked at the end of the conveyor belt, where canned goods were still being produced continuously, all reserved for the night shift workers.

The 15-hour workday is over.

He was also nearly paralyzed.

As the two walked back to their hideout, the night breeze carried no coolness, but rather a metallic smell.

The hourly wage was credited to the account immediately, but the collar around the neck offered no indication of payment; the sinners had to calculate everything themselves.

Zhuang Fan silently calculated in his mind.

Earn 7 credits per hour, work 15 hours a day, and earn 105 credits.
With an average of 30 working days per month, the total income is 3150 points. After deducting 50% labor tax, the net income is 1575 points.
Two protein bars a day, 15 points each, totaling 900 points in food expenses per month;
Air purification fee: 100 points per month;
The ointment for treating external injuries costs 10 points per tube, and at least 10 tubes are needed per month, costing 100 points.
The redemption fee for the "Friendly Collar" is 3000 points, and the principal must be paid in full at once. The annual interest rate is 30%, which is equivalent to 75 points of interest per month.
Fog lights are counted as two lights per month, totaling 300 points.

All fixed expenses amount to 1475 points.

Monthly surplus, 100 points.

It would take a full 30 months to pay off the 3000-point collar fee in one lump sum, without considering any additional expenses.

That's incredibly heartless.
Zhuang Fan felt increasingly uneasy. Their hideout only had four fog lights, which were shared by a hundred people.

But everyone had to pay for two lamps separately, the accounts were clear, and the exploitation was also clear.

"hiss……"

Watson grinned; he had several fresh bruises on his arms and legs, all from being hit on the front lines.

"I'm going to buy some ointment, do you want some?"

"I don't need it anymore."

Watson stopped in front of the vending machine, stretched his neck forward, paid 20 credits with his collar, bought two tubes of ointment, and then handed one to Zhuang Fan.

"We can't skimp on this money."

Watson's voice was a little hoarse. "If the wounds accumulate, it will be very dangerous to go to the front line again."

Zhuang Fan took the ointment; the metal tube was cold.

"Thank you."

He didn't say he didn't need it; it was someone else's kind gesture.

After all, the defense of nano-skin is sufficient to withstand most external injuries.

As for the dull pain left inside the body due to the impact, a mere wisp of eerie mist is enough to soothe the hidden injuries.

He stuffed the ointment into his pocket.

Back at the hive, before even entering, Zhuang Fan sensed something was off.

A dozen or so criminals gathered together, surrounding a burly man.

The man was shirtless, with a flame tattooed on his chest, and had a fierce look in his eyes; he was known as Brother Bao.

His men saw Zhuang Fan and his companion and immediately walked over to block their path.

"The newcomer has come to pay his respects."

The man pointed at Brother Bao, "From now on, you'll have to pay a tribute of 30 credits every month, which is equivalent to two protein bars."

Criminals cannot freely trade credits; they usually resort to barter.

Watson's expression changed slightly as he quickly performed mental calculations.

Nissen's high-interest loans have already reduced his monthly surplus to less than 50 credits. If he were to contribute two protein bars, he would basically be unable to save a single penny.

"too expensive."

Watson didn't want to cause trouble. "How about I give you one first, and then give you two more when I have more money in a few months?"

Brother Bao noticed the commotion over there.

He walked over and glanced at Zhuang Fan and Hua Sheng.

"You two have offended Lord Nissen."

Brother Bao sneered: "Others pay 30 points as tribute, but you two have to double that, and get four protein bars, not one less."

Watson's face turned completely pale.

This means they have no savings each month and have to go hungry for several meals.

Zhuang Fan looked at Bao Ge and uttered only two words.

Forget it.

Bao Ge's face darkened.

One of his henchmen rushed up from behind and punched Zhuang Fan in the face.

Zhuang Fan didn't move.

Just as the fist was about to touch him, he slightly shifted his body, and his right hand shot out like lightning, poking the underling in the ribs.

The movement was so light that it was almost invisible.

"Uh--"

The man's body instantly hunched over, his face turned a deep liver color, and he knelt on the ground, dry heaving.

"you"

Brother Bao took a slight step back, looking surprised and uncertain.

Zhuang Fan ignored him and walked straight to his bunk, then stopped.

The wooden planks, which were once relatively clean, were now piled with food scraps and dirty rags, emitting a sour smell.

Seeing this, Watson tugged at his clothes and whispered, "Let me pack, don't go with them..."

Before he could finish speaking, a tall, thin man next to him stuck out his foot and tripped him to the ground.

"Is this your trash? You dare to accept it?"

Seeing this, Zhuang Fan also stretched out his foot, causing the tall, thin man to fall to the ground.

"What are you saying, you piece of trash, babbling on and on?"

After helping Watson up, he walked to his bunk, grabbed the edge of the bed, and exerted force.

"Wow--"

The entire bed board, covered in trash, was pulled out and thrown heavily onto the concrete floor with a loud thud.

Everyone around was stunned.

The thugs burst into laughter: "What, you want to sleep on the concrete floor?"

Zhuang Fan ignored him.

He turned around, his gaze sweeping across the hundred bunks, finally settling on Brother Bao's bed.
He walked over, pulled out the clean bed board, and put it back on his bunk, fitting it perfectly.

His movements were fluid, his expression calm, as if he were doing something perfectly natural.

"You're looking for death!"

Brother Bao was completely enraged, and he gave a wink to his subordinates.

The group immediately took off their coats and used them to completely cover the four surveillance cameras in the hideout.

"Beat me to death!"

A dozen or so criminals rushed forward.

"boom!"

Zhuang Fan kicked a criminal's knee so hard it bent backwards, making a crisp cracking sound.

He screamed and fell to the ground.

The other person's elbow was blocked by Zhuang Fan, and then twisted in the opposite direction, dislocating the joint.

Before the man could even scream, he was struck in the abdomen by a heavy elbow, and he curled up and fell to the ground.

Zhuang Fan's movements were all direct and effective, consisting only of blocking, grappling, and counter-attacks, aiming to inflict maximum damage.

Less than a minute.

More than a dozen criminals lay on the ground, groaning incessantly.

When the last henchman fell, Brother Bao finally realized what was happening. He tried to back away, but his neck was already being choked.

His feet were lifted off the ground, and he was abruptly lifted up, a feeling of suffocation washing over him.

He looked at Zhuang Fan in horror, only to find that the other man's eyes had no whites; his entire eye sockets were swallowed by darkness.

Those aren't human eyes!

“Remember this,” Zhuang Fan said softly, “If there’s even a little bit of dirt on our bed, we’ll smash it to pieces.”

Brother Bao was so terrified by those dark eyes that he wanted to nod but couldn't move, and could only squeeze out a "hoarse" sound from his throat.

Zhuang Fan released his hand.

Brother Bao collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

He blinked again, and Zhuang Fan's eyes had returned to normal; everything that had just happened seemed like an illusion.

"Bang!"

The door to the hideout was kicked open, and several guards wielding stun batons rushed in.

"Who the hell covered up the security camera footage?!"

Brother Bao jumped up in a flash, scrambling to his feet, a fawning smile plastered on his face.

"Sir, it's all a misunderstanding! The clothes got caught on it by accident!"

He turned around and roared at his men, "What the hell are you all doing lying on the ground! Playing dead! Get up!"

The criminals lying on the ground, enduring excruciating pain, struggled to their feet one by one, pretending that nothing had happened.

The guard snorted and didn't pursue the matter further.

Brother Bao walked to one of his underlings' beds, pulled out the bed board, and laid it on his bare bed frame.

Zhuang Fan didn't look at them again. He walked to his bunk, crawled in, and lay down.

"What are you standing there for? Aren't you going to sleep?"

Watson finally came to his senses. "Ah, I'm going to sleep!"

Zhuang Fan closed his eyes, fatigue washing over him like a tidal wave; he was indeed too sleepy.

The first day of my military service has ended.

But a new beginning has arrived.

Zhuang Fan quickly realized that this was a never-ending hell of labor, and he had been trapped in it.

Every day, he was sent to the front lines to move corpses, rescue the wounded, and clear trenches.

Severed limbs and fragments of internal organs became his most common sight; he had become numb to life and death.

The zombie horde is unpredictable; sometimes it comes in the middle of the night, sometimes at noon, and sometimes it can last all day.

Every night when he closes his eyes, he hears auditory hallucinations, such as the roar of a horde of zombies, the roar of gunfire, and the screams of the wounded.

These things tormented him in turn, almost causing him to suffer from insomnia.

If a zombie horde doesn't come one day, he'll have to go to mine coal or go deeper into the mine to dig for crystals.

In the mine, Zhuang Fan noticed that some miners had vacant eyes and mechanical movements, and could work 18 hours a day.

It was later learned that these were "mining mules," failed clones in the city that, after having their frontal lobes removed, would work tirelessly until their bodies collapsed.

The overseers sell a potion called "Pain Relief" and even rent out mechanical exoskeletons, draining every criminal's credits.

Zhuang Fan also saw a lot of child laborers.

Children's biggest advantage is their small size, which allows them to squeeze into narrow mine tunnels and ventilation shafts.

Coal dust clung to the child like an indelible layer of skin, making his cough sound both childish and worn, like an old bellows.

Occasionally, a few androids can be seen on the assembly line and in the mine; they are extremely efficient and tireless.

"If androids are so useful, why haven't we seen many?" Zhuang Fan once asked an old criminal.

"Androids are very expensive."

The old criminal spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. "We are a never-ending supply. If we get worn out, we can just arrest another batch."

Well, it makes sense.

Sometimes, he and Watson were also assigned to clean bloodied shinbones, then sort them and pack them into containers.

It is said that there is a creature called the bone marrow worm in the slums that can burrow into a person's shinbone and eat the bone marrow.

It doesn't damage bone structure, but it causes excruciating pain, and over time, all the bones in your body will ache.

The only solution is for the doctor to cooperate in sawing off the bone, and then for the security team to "destroy it for free".

"I heard that these bone marrow worms were introduced by people from Charlie's sugar factory."

Watson told him privately.

Looking at the mountain of shinbones before him, Zhuang Fan felt that it was all too absurd.

Even 700 years from now, they still need to use bones to remove color.

Every night when he returned to his room, he was completely exhausted and didn't want to move anymore.

Bao Ge and his gang became much more obedient. They did a lot of work, and after returning, they basically went straight to sleep, snoring louder and louder than the next person.

In the camp, the few dark corners that could absorb the eerie fog have all been equipped with fog lights in the past few days.

He found it more difficult to replenish the eerie fog.

The remaining eerie mist each day is used to repair hidden physical injuries or to maintain mental stability and prevent collapse.

More importantly, he still hasn't found a way to break the collar.

An alarm will be triggered even with the slightest touch, and it will also be triggered if you move away from a specific area or go offline or disconnect from the internet.

Zhuang Fan felt that things were getting serious.

Over the past two months, the nuclear soldiers have been conducting increasingly frequent inspections, and the camp has been ransacked several times, making him hesitant to make any rash moves.

On one occasion, he even saw Harry's group, and Grey Goose was among them; it seemed that all the mercenary groups had been mobilized.

I heard from a newcomer that the people who came here with nuclear weapons have gone completely mad. They've razed many forests to the ground and blown open caves, and nobody knows what they're looking for.

"Of course you should come to me." Zhuang Fan dared not utter a word.

He had a bad feeling that if the nuclear people couldn't find him, they might eventually target the criminal camp, for example, by investigating the recent criminals.

We have to think of a solution.

Nissen didn't cause him and Watson any more trouble, but he would always assign them the most tiring tasks.

He repeatedly hinted that if Zhuang Fan was willing to bow down and beg for mercy and submit to him, he could give Zhuang Fan an easier job.

Zhuang Fan ignored him completely.

February, March.

Time passed during service.

Zhuang Fan painstakingly saved up 200 credits.

Watson had even less, because he still had to pay Nissen's loan interest, and only saved 100 points in total.

By the end of March, due to a shortage of manpower at the incineration plant, Zhuang Fan and Hua Sheng were transferred there to be responsible for moving garbage.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of burning plastic.

These mountains of garbage, all infected by the decaying fog, have lost their recycling value and can only be burned.

Of course, some criminals also try to scavenge for scraps, hoping to find some electronic waste that hasn't rotted.

Some experienced people use the color of the decaying fog to assess the recycling value of items.
Light brown indicates that the item can still be salvaged.
Dark brown, unless it has high value, it can be burned;
It's dark brown, mostly empty shells and powder, and doesn't even have the chance to end up in a landfill.

Although the decaying fog does not harm the human body, the landfill is still covered with fog lights to suppress the overflowing decaying fog.

Otherwise, the clothes of all the sinners will be ruined.

After pushing a large pile of pollutants onto the conveyor belt, Zhuang Fan noticed something and picked up an object.

A basic version of the Wasteland Traveler, once infected by the Dark Fog, is now filled with a dark brown, decaying mist.

It will become completely brittle in three days at most, rot within ten days, and then become unusable.

Watson glanced at it and said, "If it's light brown, it might still be salvageable, but dark brown is definitely beyond saving."

Zhuang Fan seemed to be deep in thought. He had always absorbed the strange mist before, and it seemed that he had never absorbed the decaying mist.

Seeing that no one was paying attention, he tried to pull away from the layer of decaying mist.

Soon, the decaying mist was extracted from the object, but unlike the eerie mist, it was not absorbed by Zhuang Fan. Instead, it dissipated into the air after leaving the object.

The decaying mist dissipates immediately after leaving the object; this is a pattern that Zhuang Fan has initially summarized.

Moreover, the process of extracting the decaying mist requires almost no mental effort and is much easier than controlling the strange mist.

In just one minute, the Wasteland Traveler in his hands was restored to its original state.

Apart from the screen and casing being slightly damaged, the overall functions are intact, and it can even be turned on and run.

A foreman happened to walk over, took the Wasteland Traveler, examined it carefully, and a satisfied look appeared on his face.

"Kid, not bad."

He patted Zhuang Fan on the shoulder and said to the crowd:
"If you find any more high-value items in the future, hand them over. I will register them and reward you with credit points."

Zhuang Fan stood there, stunned.

He suddenly realized that a brand new door had opened for him.

Once he leaves the camp, he might be able to make a fortune by scavenging for garbage.

(End of this chapter)