prynovel Chapter 94 The Warrior Tribe's Blacksmith Shop
Chapter 94 The Warrior Tribe's Blacksmith Shop
The resurrection point for the abandoned city is located in a basement outside the sewer entrance, a surprisingly spacious area.
Da Niu lazily opened his eyes, climbed up from the cold stone slab, and reached out to touch his neck. The phantom pain from being completely melted by the strong acid had disappeared, but the unforgettable sense of fear still lingered in his nerves.
Immediately afterwards, he felt so heartbroken that he almost cried.
"A full forty-eight hours!" Da Niu slammed his fist on the stone wall beside him. "How much money and credit points did we lose? How much goodwill did we miss out on?"
Beside him, Wangliang and several other aspiring warrior players also got up one after another, each one covered in dust and complaining about missing out on a hundred million.
Before they could finish venting their emotions, the creaking sound of wooden wheels came from the entrance of the passage.
The little snail, pushing a simple wooden wheelbarrow, stopped in front of the group. Behind him were four hired native laborers, each pushing a similar handcart filled with sacks.
"Stop howling."
The little snail patted the handlebars, looking at the group of laborers who had just been released from prison, "Big job's here. The GM's issued a quest: go to Warrior's Tribe to run a trade route. While you're at it, get your aspiring warriors' class change papers sorted out."
Upon hearing the words "job change," Da Niu and Wang Liang's eyes immediately lit up like 200-watt light bulbs.
Let's rewind to one day ago.
During the cooldown period when the suicide squad was in the dark room, Lynn was not idle. He summoned Little Snail to the base alone and directly transferred a huge sum of one thousand Maple Leaf Coins from the system funds that hadn't even warmed up yet.
This is a venture capital investment that Lynn has carefully considered.
On Treasure Island, a thousand Maple Leaf Coins would be an enormous fortune.
However, he had a clear understanding of the situation. Money in hand was just a pile of metal; only by exchanging it for a solid industrial foundation could the entire territory be put into operation.
The little snail took the money and didn't waste a moment.
He went directly to Pearl Harbor, spent fifty Maple Leaf Coins, and had a local carpenter work overnight to make five wheelbarrows with excellent load-bearing capacity.
Next, he contacted several indigenous people who were boiling seawater using the same method as geese. This group was boiling seawater on the beach using traditional methods, and the purification efficiency was quite impressive.
With a wave of its hand, the little snail bought out all the crude sea salt they had stockpiled for a high price of two hundred maple leaf coins.
He then purchased 300 jin of wheat and dry food from local farmers in Mingzhu Port, and also filled several large buckets with clean fresh water.
After deducting expenses, the little snail carefully kept the remaining money close to its body as working capital for this trip north.
Now, everyone is here.
"One person, one wheelbarrow, let's get going. No horses, no carts, we'll rely on our own two legs." The little snail pointed to the wheelbarrows on the ground.
Without saying a word, Da Niu went up and grabbed the handlebars. The weight in the truck bed made his arm sink down; this game really did perfectly recreate the feeling of physical weight.
The group pushed their heavy wheelbarrows out of the abandoned city and headed towards the northern Gobi Desert.
The terrain in the northern part of Treasure Island is extremely treacherous.
The higher you go, the less vegetation there is, and the drier the air becomes. The sand and dust hitting your face feel rough and stinging.
After less than two hours of pushing, the players' stamina bars started to deplete, and the sound of panting filled the air.
"This road is so hard to walk on." Wangliang wiped the sweat from his forehead and handed the water bottle to the newbie next to him who was almost exhausted.
There's no auto-pathfinding, no teleportation array. Every step forward brings an incredibly real, tingling sensation in your feet.
But none of them gave up. The thought that the truck was carrying materials that could be used to make high-end weapons gave these internet-addicted teenagers the strength to climb the hill, even more than an armored pig.
As evening approached, the earthen-yellow rock buildings finally came into view at the edge of the horizon.
We've arrived at the Warriors' Village.
The little snail had the group stop and rest at the entrance, while he himself carefully observed the indigenous guards standing on both sides.
When he first came here to explore, he was only amazed by the exaggerated muscles of the native NPCs and didn't look into it much. But now that he's here with a caravan, his perspective has completely changed.
Although the guards were physically strong and carried solid steel machetes, they were visibly listless.
Their actions appeared somewhat slow.
More importantly, the little snail noticed that several of the natives had dry, cracked, and pale lips, and their exposed skin had an unnatural, ashen appearance.
This is not a special skin color at all.
Based on Xiaodaibi's analysis on the forum, Xiaowoniu is certain of one fact: this is a serious electrolyte imbalance.
The high-altitude environment is harsh, with no sea and sparse vegetation. Years of strenuous exercise, coupled with a diet consisting only of roasted meat, have plunged this highland city-state into a deadly salt shortage crisis.
Salt is the key to exploiting the weaknesses of these muscular men.
"Let's go straight to the blacksmith's shop." The little snail waved his hand and led the caravan into the tribe in a grand manner.
"Hey, outsider."
A tall guard leaning against a stone pillar called out.
The little snail turned its head and saw an old acquaintance, Balu, a friend it had met when it came to explore the new map last time.
Balu didn't seem as energetic as last time. He glanced at the handcarts behind the little snail, his chapped lips moving slightly: "You're here to die again? The wood sprites in the highlands have been acting crazy lately, so don't wander around."
"Don't worry, we brought some good stuff this time." The little snail smiled and casually took out two pieces of dried fish slices marinated in sea salt from its pocket and tossed them over.
Balu instinctively took it, and when he smelled the faint salty and fishy smell, his throat visibly bobbed.
The little snail didn't explain much, and led the caravan into the tribe with an air of nonchalance.
Passing through several rugged stone houses, the deafening sound of blacksmithing came rushing towards us.
Beside the furnace, a burly old man with a full head of white hair was wielding a hammer. That was Sind, the chief blacksmith of the Warriors' Tribe. Beside him, assisting him, was an equally strong young black man, Sind's apprentice, Smith.
As soon as Da Niu and Wang Liang entered, their eyes were glued to the weapons hanging on the wall.
Pirate sword, two-handed sword, steel axe, and a ridiculously designed sea god fork.
The blades of each weapon gleamed with a cold metallic sheen, and their quality looked quite impressive.
Da Niu swallowed hard, recalling the pile of junk that Elliott had made in the basement of the ruined city by washing scrap iron sheets with green acid and hammering them out. He thought it was utter garbage.
"Don't touch what you can't afford." Smith put down his work and glanced at the group of ragged strangers.
Da Niu wasn't angry at all. Instead, he shamelessly took a step closer and stared at the two-handed sword, swallowing hard.
"Holy crap, look at that forging texture, look at that thickness." Da Niu whispered to Wang Liang beside him, "I bet this thing won't even bend when it hits the Zombie Mushroom King. The scrap iron we had before couldn't even break through its defenses. This is real good equipment."
Wangliang stared at the two-handed sword, his hands unconsciously rubbing against his trouser legs.
He had already started doing the math in his head: "If I could carry this greatsword while grinding monsters, my efficiency would at least triple. If this game didn't have durability, grinding monsters for an extra two hours every day would allow me to recoup the money I spent on the weapon in just half a month."
Seeing the drooling looks on these country bumpkins, the old blacksmith Sinde didn't even look up and continued hammering on his anvil.
"Alright, wipe your drool." The little snail stepped forward, interrupting the newbies' daydreaming.
He ignored Smith's warning and went straight to the stone table in the center of the blacksmith's shop, pulling a sack from the cart.