Chapter 229: Transformed Persons

Bai Lang, returning with spoils, also encountered on the road a steam truck carrying a pig-shaped beast as large as an elephant, and beside the truck were smaller four-wheeled steam vehicles, on which rode a hunting party in the wilderness.

Bai Lang said a few kind words, took out part of the spoils to get a ride, he shouldered a large pack, bore a large flamethrower together with its gas cylinder, and boarded a four-wheeled steam truck—of course the large flamethrower served as payment to the convoy captain.

The other party was also very pleased, and certainly had no ill intentions—one who could obtain such spoils is certainly not ordinary; anyone who could charge alone into the Red Circle's Steam Zone is not ordinary, and if any conflict arose, it would be more likely that they would be the ones taken out.

The flamethrower in his hand proved this—it's huge, hardly a person can lift and control it, its shells are as big as a carrot, its power certainly not to be underestimated. In fact, the captain saw at a glance that the shells must have been custom-made at a weapons shop; though expensive, they were surely worth it.

With shells this large, the warhead can hold all sorts of special treatments; the gun overall is finely crafted and looks very durable—the hunting party captain has never seen such a weapon, but even casually one can imagine how dangerous the prey of someone wielding it would be.

So this tall fellow before us, with cheeks bluish from stubble, a head of stiff short hair, and hanging eyebrows, is definitely a vicious person just like his face suggests—although he now looks grinning, he still sends chills down one's spine.

The captain didn't want to refuse such a guy, so he could only secretly tell everyone to avoid provoking him and let him ride along to the stronghold—if he wanted to cause trouble, that would be a headache for the big shots in the stronghold, like the sheriff nobody likes.

Bai Lang lounged in the truck bed, the truck carried him forward, its speed slower than his Lightness Skill—"It'll probably take three or four days anyway, and this is still the Steam Zone nearest the stronghold." He muttered, then propped his large pack behind him and fell into a loud sleep in the truck bed.

This convoy had no one who could threaten him; that was obvious at a glance—their weapons were nothing but gunpowder bullet rifles and pistols, plus large cleavers with small, peculiar parts. It's said those are accelerated with gunpowder; Bai Lang thought they were absolutely suicide tools.

These people were also bulky, wearing not just cowboy outfits but also some bulletproof vests or armor-like gear; anyway they looked like a mix of styles from all times and places. Bai Lang didn't want to talk much with them, for they might change at any moment—perhaps they were previously bar hostesses selling drinks.

Men turning into women, women into men—truly unpredictable, this world is twisted and changeable. Bai Lang slept soundly, and no one dared disturb him. While camping, these people let Bai Lang sleep in the truck bed without bothering him—such a strong person, better to avoid contact if possible.

Bai Lang also slept well; he dozed off for three days straight, breathing only once a minute. When the convoy reached the stronghold, Bai Lang simply opened his eyes and woke up, feeling refreshed he grabbed his pack, greeted them, jumped down from the truck bed, and entered the underground stronghold through the front door.

Those two old fellows were still as if drunk; seeing Bai Lang walk in they pretended not to notice, not even lifting their eyelids. "Will those two change?" Bai Lang glanced at the two old men and walked into the stairs.

This time he went to the equipment shop, familiar with the way; when he saw the boss and shopkeeper had changed into another appearance, it wasn't strange at all. Even if the boss turned into a talking dog, Bai Lang would just take it as a dog demon.

"As it turns out, not only people change back and forth, but even dogs can't escape?" Bai Lang thought calmly, then tossed his pack onto the counter, "Give me a price."

The iron flamethrower was also tossed onto the counter, whereupon the boss got excited, crawling on all fours circling the flamethrower and the opened pack. That strange person's hide, which even the boss had never seen, he could only ask Bai Lang to explain. "Oh, I probably encountered it here, plus the steam truck and steam tank. What special use does this hide have? Is it fireproof? This thing hasn't been burned by flames over a thousand degrees." Bai Lang shook the hide.

This hide is about a centimeter thick, very tough. The shopkeeper tried stabbing and slashing it with a knife but couldn't tear it, and its elasticity, Bai Lang said, is also good—it can stretch at least three to four times without breaking. So it's excellent armor material; the equipment shop boss, on the other hand, said he could cut this hide.

The flamethrower's power is greater; its complex structure requires filling with a specially made combustion liquid of coal powder—but all of this, including pressurized spraying, can be solved simply by loading coal lumps. Indeed, this device, over a person tall and made of three steel cylinders, is actually a steam automatic machine.

After the coal lumps are loaded, they burn in the small boiler below; the pressurized steam drives a small crusher to pulverize the coal, then pressurizes the gas tank, after which—who knows how—it liquefies the coal powder, continually absorbing moisture from the air to replenish its liquid, ultimately becoming a flamethrower that can spray continuously.

This utterly unscientific yet very steamy thing, together with the hide, fetched a high price—just the face of that Shiba Inu, Bai Lang had no idea how happy the boss would be, but he could sense the atmosphere was different, knowing he'd surely gotten a big sum from this boss—though this was already the most the boss could give, he had nearly emptied the equipment shop's safe to hand the money to Bai Lang.

Bai Lang also spent lavishly, buying many things to pack into his large pack, then he sold the nectar of the man-eating flower to recoup some money—the equipment shop was emptied, its liquid funds and rare goods all sold. Bai Lang, money in hand, entered the weapon shop—this place's changes were even more extravagant.

Because regardless of manager or clerk, they are cats—and they're fat orange cats.

The cats' gazes are extremely sharp; a casual look reveals they're beings with at least a hundred thousand combat strength, far stronger than the equipment boss's Shiba Inu. "Welcome, customer, what weapon do you need? We here can meet your greatest demand!"

Bai Lang tugged at his jacket, a sense of absurdity welled up: "Those days of dressed in fine clothes, riding angry horses, wandering the jianghu as masters—compared to now living as wilderness scavengers, is it really indescribable? Could someone dragged in by the Adventure Palace possibly adapt perfectly to this life?"