Dark Ruins Dawn

Chapter 41 Elvis
Based on the old man's memory, he determined that there was a hidden underground shelter nearby, disguised as an abandoned house, and empty inside.

Instead of approaching directly, Zhuang Fan went around to another abandoned house at the back and, through several walls, tried to sense it up close.

He could clearly sense that there was a medium-sized shelter space beneath the house.

The eerie fog in the space was very thin, indicating that a fog-dispelling device had been operating for a long time.

What's unusual is that the eerie fog there isn't pure; it's a mixture of different components, indicating that someone has been inside before, and more than once.

A chill ran through him; Xu Renyi's secret hideout had likely already been exposed.

He abandoned the shelter and headed straight for the outer city exit.

The checkpoint lights were stark white. Zhuang Fan stood in line, adjusting his breathing to steady his heartbeat.

He mimicked Sain's posture, leaning slightly forward, with a hint of barely perceptible fatigue.

It was his turn.

"The ring." The guard's voice was devoid of emotion.

Zhuang Fan extended his right hand and brought the ring close to the scanner.

Sain's avatar and basic information pop up on the screen.

"fingerprint."

He pressed his index finger against the glass plate.

The match was successful.

"Iris."

He looked up and stared directly at the scanning probe.

"drop--"

With a soft click, the green light turned on.

"pass."

Zhuang Fan withdrew his gaze and took a step.

He had rehearsed several escape methods, but the security check process for third-class citizens leaving the city was so simple it was almost perfunctory.

He walked through the last gate without looking back, leaving the steel city behind.

After leaving the city, he came to the crevice in the rock where he had hidden his suitcase. The crevice was covered by rubble and vines due to the earthquake.

He dug the box out with great effort; the outer shell remained hard, and the embedded crystals inside ensured that the contents were intact.

The box was opened successfully, and the system began identification and verification.

A few minutes later, a hunchbacked, very old man, leaning on a steel bar, walked out with faltering steps.

His face was covered in wrinkles, and his eyes were cloudy, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

He was going to the nearby refugee market.

Outside Linhai City, refugees swarmed like flies over the ruins washed away by the tide of corpses.

They built shacks using scrap metal, plastic sheeting, and wooden planks, crammed together and completely stuffy.

The market was built in an abandoned parking lot, and the stalls were made of tattered canvas and sheet metal.

Vendors hawked all sorts of goods of dubious origin: rusty parts, mutated jerky, bizarre potions, and old clothes stripped from corpses.

Crowded, noisy, chaotic and disorderly.

Zhuang Fan, with his back hunched, mingled in the crowd and walked into a shop with a sign that read "Everything Recycling".

The stall owner was a one-eyed man, and he was sharpening a machete with a grinding wheel.

Zhuang Fan placed a sealed bag on the table, inside which was "Sain's" complete set of identification documents.

He would only use Sain's identity once, so he chose to sell it to recoup some funds.

“This is 25 grams of gold,” he said in an aged voice.

The one-eyed man stopped what he was doing, picked up the smart ring, and inserted it into the terminal.

“Selling information about third-class citizens carries a great risk; we’ll deduct five thousand gold coins from your account first.”

One-Eyed Dragon continued to haggle: "In addition, the memory fibers of this human skin mask are not permanent. I'll deduct another five thousand, making it fifteen thousand gold coins in total. That's my final offer."

Zhuang Fan did not haggle, and said in a deep voice, "I don't want gold notes, give me gold."

"As you wish, 15 grams of gold."

The one-eyed man weighed the gold bar in his hand, looked the unassuming old man up and down, and handed it over.

Transaction complete.

He walked out of the shop and turned into a narrow alley.

Two figures followed him in, blocking his retreat.

"Old man, hand over the gold."

Zhuang Fan turned around, his hunched back straightening instantly.

The pistol, fitted with a simple silencer, made a soft "thud" sound.

The man on the left had a small hole between his eyebrows, and his body slumped down.

The man on the right was stunned; he hadn't even seen how the other man drew his gun.

"Pfft." Another soft sound.

Zhuang Fan didn't look at the corpse on the ground anymore. He squeezed out through the gap in the other container and disappeared into the crowd.

He returned to his secluded corner, adopted a new, younger identity, and named himself "Wuya".

He began searching for Hua Xin.

Hua Sheng had created a virtual representation of his sister's appearance. According to him, Hua Xin would weave some marks with her unique hemp rope in inconspicuous places outside the city.

Sure enough, Zhuang Fan found the first mark at the bottom of an abandoned utility pole.

The knotting technique is unique.

When he reached out to touch it, the seemingly intact knot turned into a handful of grayish-brown powder.

The corrosive effect of "decaying fog" on man-made objects is far greater than on natural objects; the less processed the object, the less susceptible it is to corrosion.

Various types of rocks and soils, as well as rammed earth, clay, and even concrete built upon them, exhibit strong resistance to decay fog.

This is Zhuang Fan's observation.

He continued his search along the route, but many of the knots had been corroded to the point of being empty shells, and eventually, there were no more markers at all.

He walked through most of the refugee area, saw countless faces, and had a photographic memory, but he still couldn't find Hua Xin.

The clue is broken.

Zhuang Fan had no choice but to give up for the time being. He would first sell parts in the garbage dumps outside the city to earn some money, and then try to find a way to rescue Hua Sheng.

During this time, he met a small caravan of merchants.

The leader was called "King Maoshan".

Zhuang Fan was slightly taken aback when he first heard the name.

His first impression of Mao Shanwang was that he was fat.

It's not just ordinary fat; it's a visually striking, spherical fat.

His ears stood up straight, his face was round, and he looked adorable, like a tall, chubby lucky cat.

With its short, blue-gray fur, the color of its belly gradually turns pure white, somewhat resembling a British Shorthair cat, giving Zhuang Fan a strange sense of déjà vu.

His mount was a giant mutated house crab, a hermit crab that had mutated from a human. It was three meters long and wide, two meters high, and weighed a ton.

The crab shell was transformed into a habitable mobile home, with a rapid-fire machine gun mounted on top and several boxes of grenades piled up next to it.

Zhuang Fan was certain that this was a cat-person.

In the wasteland, the cat people faced exceptionally difficult survival, and their numbers were once on the verge of extinction.

Both male and female cats are highly sought-after on the slave list because of their delicate and elegant appearance.

Even worse, their meat is delicious and non-toxic, and has become one of the staple foods of other races.

The Maoshan King before them was clearly too big for a cat-man, which reduced the likelihood of him being coveted.

Mao Shanwang's second impression on Zhuang Fan was that he was a cunning businessman who was extremely ruthless in driving down prices.

He found a repaired energy storage module and wanted to ask for 1,500 gold coins.

Mao Shanwang only extended three fat fingers.

"three hundred."

Zhuang Fan remained silent.

Mao Shanwang remained silent.

This isn't haggling; it's cutting off the seller's legs.

"The goods from Mori-saka are not cracked, which is high-risk and has a long turnover time. Other stores will give you 500, but they will report you if you resell them. You can try it if you don't believe me."

Zhuang Fanzhen tried it and found that the situation was indeed as described. In order to avoid being hunted down, he had to change his identity.

"I wasn't lying to you, was I?" Mao Shanwang recognized him at a glance, a simple, honest smile on his face.

"."

Zhuang Fan was not satisfied: "Let's raise the price a bit more."

"Three hundred and twenty."

"alright."

Over the next few days, his blood pressure spiked from the slashing, and he wanted to beat the fat cat to a pulp several times.

But gradually, Maoshanwang's advantages became apparent.

He never cheats or steals; his transactions are always honest and reliable.
They have extremely wide sales channels and can accept all of Zhuang Fan's goods without asking where they come from;

More importantly, it can evade the notice of large corporations, ensuring full security.

In three days, Zhuang Fan was able to earn 3000 gold coins in the resource-scarce wilderness, which wasn't slow.

Without Watson's help, his treasure hunting efficiency dropped significantly, and he also had to be wary of other wastelanders coveting his treasure.

Zhuang Fan realized the problem.

To quickly earn your first pot of gold, going it alone is definitely not an option; building a large team is the key.

(End of this chapter)