Chapter 450: Plan (4K)

When a person is utterly speechless, they really will laugh out loud.

Li Cheng did not grit his teeth or fly into a rage; instead, he calmly walked out of the office and instructed the AI vending machine to contact the customers ranked highest on the renovation appointment list according to the schedule.

The "turnover rate" in the operating room was extremely high: customers brought their own transplanted parts, entered, lay down, and were stitched together in a flash.

"Next."

Li Cheng called out without looking up.

A novice named 【Jin Yu Chong Xiao】, whose sleeve ended below the right shoulder, pushed open the door and entered the operating room; seeing Li Cheng holding a showerhead and spraying disinfectant violently onto the operating table, he involuntarily swallowed hard, "Gulps."

"Don't be nervous—you're here to connect a warrior's arm, right?"

Li Cheng put down the showerhead and said casually: "Take it out."

Jin Yu Chong Xiao hesitantly pulled out a fresh arm; compared to his own slender frame, the arm was unusually muscular, covered in scars and calluses—clearly belonging to a warrior accustomed to blades, guns, and firearms.

"Why is there still trace radiation dust?"

Li Cheng took the arm and rinsed it under the showerhead, asking casually: "Where did this arm come from?"

"From a quest scenario—a friend gave it to me."

Mentioning this, Jin Yu Chong Xiao's face twisted with complex emotion; he sighed bitterly: "It was a post-apocalyptic wasteland, similar to Mad Max, Fist of the North Star, and Fallout—after nuclear war, the old order collapsed.

Survivors struggled to endure amid radioactive rain, mutated monsters, cannibal cults, and brutal outlaw gangs.

My mission was to survive seven days; I only needed to hide somewhere, but I accidentally got attacked by a mutated Komodo dragon and nearly got bitten to death.

Fortunately, a bounty hunter saved me; in exchange for a PSP game console and a solar charger, he took me to the nearest town to treat my wound infection.

Just after cleaning the wound, the town was raided by the outlaw gang; I and the bounty hunter accepted the mayor's commission and rescued the civilians kidnapped by the gang,

then followed tire tracks to track down a mad scientist attempting to mass-convert newborns into mutated warriors to become the king of the wasteland. We fought his army of bio-engineered soldiers in the ruins of a former university and ultimately wiped them all out.

I survived, but the bounty hunter who saved me multiple times had his body mostly incinerated by a laser gun.

I brought his arm, along with over a hundred kidnapped newborns, back to the town.

And I left the townspeople a bullet and artillery shell production line, an oxidized graphene water purifier capable of filtering radioactive wastewater, and radiation-resistant Deinococcus radiodurans capable of degrading radioactive substances in the soil. I believe they can tenaciously rebuild human civilization.

As for me, I'll keep living—for his share too."

Jin Yu Chong Xiao lay on the operating table, his tone filled with complex emotion; in the real world, he lived in isolation with no close friends, yet in that radioactive wasteland scenario, he had gained genuine sincerity.

"Slurp."

A strange sound came from the corner of the operating room; Jin Yu Chong Xiao sat up and saw that Li Cheng had somehow made a bowl of instant noodles and was now using the bounty hunter's thick arm,

pressing the tendons to precisely control the fingers, holding chopsticks to pick up noodles for himself.

'F**k, you made me tell a story and now you're eating instant noodles? What the hell are you doing with my brother's arm?! Put it down!'

Jin Yu Chong Xiao's eyelid twitched violently; if this 【Zhu Xing Zhen Tai】 shopkeeper weren't "famously notorious" on the player forums, he'd have already jumped off the table to wrestle the arm away from Li Cheng.

"Finished slurping?"

Li Cheng chewed the noodles loudly, took a sip of the broth, then walked over calmly and snapped the wasteland hunter's arm into place.

Unlike GS Biotech's transplant cultivation, 【Assembled Puppet·Modified】 achieved perfect integration.

After attaching the arm, there was no rejection reaction whatsoever—and the muscle memory and martial arts mastery of the arm could be perfectly accessed.

"Is it… done already?"

Jin Yu Chong Xiao jumped off the table uncertainly, staring at the only remaining proof of his brother's existence; unconsciously, his eyes grew damp. And that thick right arm, as if imbued with sentience, gently lifted and wiped away his tears, then patted his left shoulder.

"When you leave, get a receipt from the vending machine."

Li Cheng said casually: "Also, I noticed you've drunk too much radioactive wastewater—your kidneys seem to be showing signs of failure. Want me to replace them?"

He casually pulled open a drawer in the refrigerator; inside, glass jars lined up, each filled with pale blue preservation fluid, each floating a fresh kidney.

"Or I could replace your lungs, intestines, liver, heart…"

Li Cheng pulled open one drawer after another, each filled with fresh organs—the horrifying scene resembling a black-market clinic in northern Myanmar or a warehouse dock in Los Angeles made Jin Yu Chong Xiao's scalp go numb; he waved his hands frantically, speechless.

"I—I have something to do, I'm leaving. Thank you, boss."

The novice fled the operating room in panic, leaving Li Cheng blinking in confusion.

These organs did not come from humans; he had purchased them cheaply from the 【Thousand Throats Beast】 Guild's monster organs.

The Thousand Throats Beast Guild specialized in breeding, cultivating, and training monsters, often producing fantasy creatures that were congenitally deficient and non-viable.

Their organs were insufficient for players above Lv10, but more than adequate for Lv10 and below novices—perfectly compatible with 【Assembled Puppet·Modified】's ability to eliminate rejection reactions.

Such as the heart of a Fenris Wolf, the lungs of a Hellhound—literally wolf's heart and dog's lungs.

"Newbies these days are truly bizarre."

Feeling still hungry, Li Cheng removed his gloves and mask, turned on the air conditioning's ventilation, then pulled out a piece of bear goblin liver and intestines from the refrigerator to make stir-fried liver for himself.

As he cooked, his mind went blank, drifting far away.

The fashion of the battlefield has always been cyclical: the first batch of players emerged in a chaotic, lawless era, where every corner teemed with wild heroes, and IDs were generally mysterious and awe-inspiring—like The Side of Truth, Zero-Day Exploit, Orderkeeper, and so on.

When the second batch of players emerged, national machines and multinational conglomerates had already learned of the battlefield's existence and began competing to recruit players, snatch regular quest triggers, and hoard player potential.

The pressure and oppression from major factions against lone-wolf players intensified, causing player IDs to generally become more cynical.

Like Fate of Slaughter, Turn My Wrecked Body Into Flames, Sword Sweeps the World.

Once this historical phase passed, national machines, multinational conglomerates, and civilian guilds reached a balance of power, with the global occult alliance GOC acting as referee,

gradually eliminating the atmosphere of paranoia and dread among players—the toxic "happy battlefield, get shot every day" vibe.

Player IDs became lively, open, and more personalized.

Like 【The Teenage Pig Boy Won't Dream of Meg Griffin】;

【If My Foot Doesn't Smell, I Won't Eat】;

【Reincarnated as a Vocational High School Toilet, My Goal Is to Find My Father, the Ghost Fire Baldy】;

【Goblin Nightclub Is a Flood and Fierce Beast Threatening Battlefield Players】;

And countless others.

And now, that original mysterious-but-impressive ID style seems to have become popular again among new players.

Some players on the forums even charge money to pick IDs for others, using astrology and divination to maximize survival time.

While lost in thought, a pot of stir-fried liver was done.

Li Cheng scooped it into a bowl and ate it slowly with small buns.

【Pi Fu, you there?】

As he ate, his friend communication panel lit up—from Fu Ding Hua Long. 【Here.】

Li Cheng's eating motion showed no hesitation—he had been waiting.

"Cough, uh, that news from the British criminal court—"

As if seeing through the text the awkward expression on Fu Ding Hua Long's face, "Did you see it?"

"I saw it."

"Here's the thing," Fu Ding Hua Long said: "Our current estimate is that the British side has figured out the connection between Cai Anjie's adoptive parents and this realm—"

【Nicola】 wore a sports camera and belonged to the Zhong Lou Guild, which is based in Britain.

You saw a building of a local British criminal court in the realm's pedestrian street.

As the local power, Britain's official institutions quickly realized the issue and investigated past cases from that local criminal court.

They searched for cases with obviously flawed verdicts—by killing field convention, the deeper the injustice and the greater the hatred, the higher the level of the anomaly generated.

Combined with other clues inside the realm, British authorities pinpointed Cai Anjie's case—and broke their agreed terms by deliberately giving her adoptive parents a lenient sentence.

The reasons are likely multifaceted."

Li Cheng raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"First, before the killing field appeared, Britain was obsessed with anti-China. They'd do things that harmed others for their own gain, things that harmed others without benefit to themselves, even things that harmed everyone—just to be the shit-stirrer annoying the whole world."

Fu Ding Hua Long explained: "Second, they estimate half the realm's treasure gains went to the Side of Truth, and half to the Special Affairs Bureau.

Britain gained nothing from this incident, lost several insurance companies, and suffered heavy economic damage—so they're deliberately retaliating.

Third, from their perspective, since they're certain the Special Affairs Bureau took the gains, they must give Cai Anjie's adoptive parents a lighter sentence to provoke conflict within our side.

If we do nothing, they've driven a nail in, planted a time bomb.

If we retaliate, they can dump all blame onto the local court, claim complete ignorance, and use the killing field's public opinion machine to scream that the Special Affairs Bureau broke the balance and violated international order.

If we initiate negotiations, they'll use Cai Anjie's adoptive parents as leverage to demand we surrender our share of the gains."

Since Britain defeated Napoleon's First French Empire at Waterloo in 1815, its left hand industrialized, its right hand ruled the Royal Navy, colonized the globe, dominated India, and called itself the Empire on Which the Sun Never Sets, claiming world hegemony.

By the end of World War II, it lost vast overseas colonies and surrendered its top position.

Behind this century-plus global hegemony lie the blood, tears, and corpses of countless civilians from Third World nations.

Today's Britain has no ability to develop industries, reorganize its military, or lead global trends—it's like Wang Xiao'er celebrating the New Year: worse every year.

But its ancestral shit-stirring craft remains skillful—fabricating issues out of thin air, always profitable, never losing.

Li Cheng thought for a moment. "They saw the Side of Truth's imagery—and still dared to do this?"

"Uh—"

Fu Ding Hua Long sounded slightly awkward. "Maybe because Pi Fu Brother is close to the Side of Truth, you don't sense the difference.

In the psychological profiling departments of all major guilds, he's always been described as rather detached."

Fu Ding Hua Long used the neutral term "detached," not the more accurate "cruel."

In truth, the Side of Truth stopped being human years ago—what lies beneath the hood could be anything.

Besides, top-tier experts all have pocket spaces—or small worlds. Their true psychological age could be hundreds of years.

"I understand."

Li Cheng nodded. Britain's official institutions counted on the Side of Truth paying little attention to external affairs—if he did pay attention, they could still lie and shift blame, sacrificing the judge to save face. "What's the Special Affairs Bureau's stance?"

"The Special Affairs Bureau's plan is: first, protect Cai Anjie herself; second, apply pressure on Britain from multiple fronts."

Fu Ding Hua Long said: "We've filed an arbitration request with the Global Occult Coalition (GOC). The realm's origin lies in the abuse by Cai Anjie's adoptive parents and the local police's racial discrimination and inaction.

The GOC has the duty to eliminate the impact of anomalies on human civilization—it will establish a court to order British officials and Cai Anjie's adoptive parents to appear.

If Britain's officials still refuse, we have backup plans.

We could support Argentina's sovereignty claim over the Falklands, arm certain active social groups in Northern Ireland, or pinpoint exactly who in Britain's official institutions proposed this, then strike when the time is right.

Combined with trade embargoes, financial strikes, military deterrence, and counter-intelligence operations—all as a coordinated package.

Finally, there are mobile task forces inside the killing field entity itself.

In remote wilderness, 'accidentally mistaking someone for a monster' and capturing a few British superhuman individuals to demand prisoner exchanges is also in our countermeasure toolkit."

A darkly humorous truth: precisely because Britain has long lost its world hegemony, its power has drastically declined, and the Zhong Lou's Hoenheim feels little loyalty to Britain,

Britain's official institutions can carry out these dirty tactics with complete peace of mind and zero guilt.

Meanwhile, the Special Affairs Bureau is stronger overall, grows faster, and is more willing to uphold basic international order and resolve issues within the rules.

The powerful and reasonable side, before delivering its blow, is constantly tested, provoked, and annoyed by the unscrupulous.

This entire speech was not Fu Ding Hua Long's own—it lacks his authority and knowledge; he's merely repeating the Special Affairs Bureau's think tank's proposal.

"That's basically it,"

Fu Ding Hua Long said awkwardly: "Pi Fu Brother, can you accept this solution?"

The Special Affairs Bureau barely paid anything, yet gained favor and absorbed a dormant semi-god and a hidden realm capable of containing souls in the future.

The bureau's leadership is furious at Britain's underhanded tricks and feels guilty toward Li Cheng, who trusted them.

"Whether I accept it isn't up to me."

Li Cheng calmly closed Fu Ding Hua Long's chat window, put down his chopsticks, stood up, took a transparent raincoat from the hanger, put it on, and walked out of the Zhu Xing Zhen Tai.

In his friend communication panel, Nicola from the Zhong Lou silently sent him 15,000 in-game coins—he guessed Li Cheng was caught between the two factions.

Whoosh—

The weather control system above the shabby street simulated heavy rain, with uniform raindrops 4.5 millimeters in diameter pouring down at a rate of 100 millimeters of precipitation.

Umbrellas of every color split the street into patches of color.

Li Cheng strolled through the bustling crowd, walked into the transmission booth carrying the damp rain air, picked up the slightly chipped-paint phone, and entered the toy factory coordinates.

His figure vanished in an instant.

He had his own solution.