Chapter 515: I Quite Like Your Style

Low houses clustered together, sewage flowing past front and back, giving off a foul stench, forming a narrow, cramped residential area.

This was a human settlement, its scale barely qualifying as medium-sized.

Backed against a sheer cliff, a dried-up riverbed lay before it, ten-odd meters deep.

A dirt bridge — or rather a dirt pier — just over a meter wide formed the only visible entrance and exit nearby; a three-meter gap in the middle was bridged with an iron plate when needed.

On the opposite bank of the riverbed stood two watchtowers that creaked under the wind, looking ready to collapse at any moment.

Around the entire settlement perimeter, all kinds of usable materials — earth, stones, scrap iron, and so on — had been assembled into a "city wall" about 1.5 meters high but over a meter thick.

Its defensive capability was quite respectable.

Many dangerous elements roaming the wasteland found the weapons in their hands unable to penetrate this earthen wall.

Including the riverbed ahead, such "natural barriers" actually existed to defend against their own kind on the wasteland.

Although Tang Luo and his group had encountered a giant rat tide, that was the consequence of them charging into the rats' nest.

On the wasteland, it was not only humans who struggled to survive.

Those strange mutated creatures on the wasteland, in most cases, had little interaction with humans.

Both sides had their own territories, their own ranges of activity.

Places where a settlement could be established were naturally far from those mutated creatures, relatively safe zones.

If the dangers humans faced on the wasteland were rated 100 points, the portion accounted for by mutated creatures was at most around 10 points.

However, those 10 points could spike sharply under special circumstances, becoming a catastrophic disaster.

At that time, doubling or multiplying such "natural barriers" and earthen walls would be of little use.

The harsh roar of engines faded on the far side of the riverbed; the Black Crow Caravan halted, Zhou Heiya stepped down and walked to the very front, pointed at the black crow on his chest, and shouted loudly, "Locke, come out and do business!"

With a row of weapon-wielding, fierce-faced underlings behind him, those words "come out and do business" sounded more like a bellow of "Robbery, hand over the money!"

The response from the other side was not slow either.

After a while, several people walked onto the dirt bridge, pushed the iron plate across, forming a road.

The Black Crow Caravan was not dealing with this settlement called "Hope Ground" for the first time.

The two sides had traded many times.

Although on the wasteland a caravan's role could easily turn into bandits, one had to admit that the existence of caravans and trade was a necessary condition for many people's survival.

Without caravans to exchange goods, some settlements would find it hard to persist.

Caravans themselves rarely caused trouble in settlements; both sides needed each other to survive.

Of course, if strangers suddenly encountered each other on the wasteland outside a settlement, refer to the Black Crow Caravan's reaction.

A settlement must have some order; outside a settlement there can be none.

Zhou Heiya took the lead, strode across, and embraced the leader on the other side, the two laughing heartily as they slapped each other's backs.

They looked quite intimate.

Locke, the chief of Hope Ground who had come out personally to welcome them, despite embracing Zhou Heiya intimately like a pair of gay men — on the wasteland, that wasn't even a thing.

But his attention was entirely fixed on a white-haired man in the convoy.

Not because the white hair was eye-catching, but because this man was too clean — his clothing, face, fingers, fingernails, even the … dog? he was holding — were all remarkably clean.

All very clean.

Let alone standing out from the Black Crow Caravan people who spent years on the road, even Locke himself was not as clean as this white-haired man.

To tell the truth, in all of Hope Ground, the number of people who could be this clean did not exceed ten, and that did not include Locke himself.

And those people only managed to wash that clean right before going to bed with Locke.

A big shot, major background.

After parting from Locke, Zhou Heiya noticed his gaze and immediately said, "This is Master Xuanzang, a true big shot, our caravan's most honored guest."

"Oh." Locke acknowledged, and performed an elegant salute toward Tang Luo, "Welcome, honored Master."

"Master" was not the exclusive title of Saints.

Anyone who had achieved something in a certain field could be addressed as Master.

No matter the era, talent was always a scarce resource.

Moreover, the "monks" of this world, aside from shaved heads and believing in Buddhism, bore not the slightest resemblance to conventional monks.

Of course, Tang Luo this monk was not conventional either.

Tang Luo nodded with a calm expression.

Locke showed no displeasure at all, smiling as he invited the Black Crow Caravan inside.

Besides the heavy truck, three of the Black Crow Caravan's eight vehicles were also modified cargo trucks, loaded with a fair amount of goods.

Leaving a few men to guard the caravan, Tang Luo and his group entered this medium-sized settlement called Hope Ground.

Further in, toward the cliff side, the slum-like shantytown scene improved considerably.

One could even see some vehicles parked in open spaces.

Clearly there were other entrances and exits here unknown to outsiders.

In terms of quantity, the vehicles already surpassed the Black Crow Caravan; they just fell a bit short in size, but in style they were cut from the same cloth.

Displaying the wasteland's wildness to the fullest.

The word "exquisite" had nothing to do with ninety-nine percent of people and things on the wasteland.

Near the cliff, two water pipes could be seen extending from the cliff face, discharging water that was not perfectly clear but at least odorless, a clean water source fit for drinking.

The water flowed into two modest reservoirs at the foot of the cliff, where two queues were waiting to draw water.

Each reservoir was guarded by two men holding guns.

The homemade guns in their hands looked more likely to explode upon firing than to actually shoot an enemy dead.

Between the two reservoirs stood a Gatling gun.

An early-model Gatling gun, hand-cranked, mounted on a two-wheeled cart — the kind you see in Westerns.

The Black Crow Caravan has a Gatling gun too.

It's installed inside the cab of the "Black Crow King" monster vehicle, can be deployed outward, and is far more high-end than this Gatling.

But it's rarely used.

In Black Crow's own words, they can't afford to use it — the bullets are too expensive.

A crude gun paired with crude bullets; the more refined the bullet craftsmanship, the more expensive it naturally is.

For high-spec, high-end firearms, the steep cost isn't just in the weapon itself — bullet consumption, maintenance, and repairs all cost money.

The cost-effectiveness is nowhere near those guns that look beat-up and ramshackle, like they might blow up at any moment.

That Gatling is more a symbol of strength and a decoration.

Locke brought Black Crow, Tang Luo, and the others to a decent two-story cottage beside the cliff.

This cottage is just where he receives guests.

His actual residence should be inside the cliff.

A clean water source is undoubtedly the foundation of Hope Settlement's existence; Locke controls the water source and therefore controls all of Hope Settlement.

The Black Crow Caravan's top priority is naturally Hope Settlement's "specialty" — water resources.

It's about five days' journey to the next settlement; current drinking water is enough, but to guard against accidents, they definitely need to stock extra.

What makes Black Crow fortunate is that this mysterious-origin Xuanzang has zero demands for food or water.

From meeting until now, he hasn't seen the other party drink water or eat anything once.

After the two agreed on a price, Black Crow directly steered the topic to the most critical question: "Do you know where to get a travel pass?"

"Your Black Crow Caravan still lacks travel passes?" Locke was somewhat surprised.

"An A-class travel pass," Black Crow said.

Locke said: "Your business has grown this big now?"

"No," Black Crow shook his head.

Locke glanced at Tang Luo sitting on the sofa beside him and understood a few parts in his heart — most likely this distinguished guest needs an A-class travel pass.

"An A-class travel pass, I actually have one," Locke said.

"Huh?" Black Crow was a bit astonished.

Locke's power is much larger than the Black Crow Caravan; a leader of a medium-sized settlement like him has the ability and channels to get an A-class travel pass.

But Black Crow didn't expect Locke to actually have one on hand.

You have to know, a settlement leader isn't like a caravan — they don't need to run around outside often.

"Got it by chance before; I have no use for it either," Locke said.

"Then..." Black Crow's next words "give it to me" hadn't even left his mouth before he heard Locke continue.

"Then what do you plan to exchange for it?"

"You just said you have no use for it?"

"No use now doesn't mean no use forever," Locke said. "Keeping it is a fallback."

"Come on, the day you're really done for, you'll still have a chance to flee to those places for refuge?" Black Crow said.

For a man like Locke, once he falls from power, the ending is basically just death.

"That's exactly why I'm willing to sell it to you," Locke said. Compared to Black Crow, he looks more like a shrewd merchant.

"What do you want?" Seeing Locke's attitude of holding a rare commodity, Black Crow knew this time he'd bleed heavily.

But there's no choice.

That suspected-god-or-Buddha Xuanzang behind him, his gaze sweeps over Black Crow from time to time.

"Delores," Locke said.

"Hah?" Black Crow froze. "What thing? A new weapon? I've never heard of it."

"No," Locke said. "It's a woman."

Black Crow frowned: "A woman, I remember last time you had someone bring a few over."

"Those few can't produce children at all!" Locke growled low, his face ferocious.

He's already over forty; on the wasteland that's not a small number. He urgently needs a bloodline to continue his kingdom.

But he can't produce any. Locke has gone through quite a few women, front and back, and only one successfully got pregnant.

But what was born was a stillborn infant.

"Alright, where is this Delores, who is she?" Black Crow asked.

"The Black Oil Camp leader's woman."

"You crazy?" Black Crow abruptly stood up.

He hadn't heard of Delores, but how could he not know Black Oil Camp?

Their scale and population are only at a small settlement level, but their armed force far exceeds a medium settlement.

Because their specialty is oil.

Oil, essential for moving on the wasteland.

Without oil, the Black Crow Caravan's most important vehicles are barely better than scrap iron.

"That woman is very fertile; I know she gave Kalle a full ten children, eight raised to adulthood." Locke's tone leaked envy, jealousy, and hate.

"..."

Black Crow was speechless for a moment. He really wanted to say that doesn't necessarily mean Delores is fertile — maybe Black Oil Camp's leader Kalle is just that potent.

Not to mention you have no fewer than twenty-some women, only produced one and it died — why don't you look for the cause in yourself?

Black Crow kept those words in his heart; saying them out loud would mean turning hostile.

He most likely won't make it out of Hope Land alive.

"My Black Crow Caravan can't beat the Black Oil Camp." Black Crow said.

If we're truly talking armed strength, the Black Crow Caravan doesn't even compare to Hope Land, let alone stand a chance against the Black Oil Camp.

The Black Oil Camp has few people, but their weapons are fierce.

The Black Oil Camp's weapons, many come from Heavenly God's Bestowal, they're not on the same level as the Black Crow Caravan's weapons at all.

Whether in the wasteland or the civilized world, those who sell oil are extremely "rich".

"Of course I don't need you to attack head-on." Locke said, "You have business dealings with the Black Oil Camp, find a chance to steal Delilah out, bring her to me, and the Heavenly God's Bestowal A-Class Pass is yours."

The Heavenly God's Bestowal A-Class Pass is relatively common, after all, it's an arms dealer organization.

"That can't be done either." Black Crow said.

The two are just different methods, both with difficulty so high it has no end.

"It's your business, bring the person, I'll give you the pass." Locke said, finally looking at Tang Luo.

Waiting for his answer.

"Is that Black Oil Camp very powerful?" Tang Luo asked.

"Like the Gatling on my truck, they have at least ten." Black Crow used a very intuitive way of putting it.

"Oh, if they're that powerful, then they should have A-Class Passes too, right?" Tang Luo said.

"Uh—" Black Crow froze, then revealed a smile, yeah.

Why hang yourself on a single tree in Hope Land? And offend a force like the Black Oil Camp to boot.

Black Crow treated Tang Luo's request as the most important thing to do, hoping to shake off this dangerous individual of unknown origin as soon as possible.

That eager attitude was what made the equally eager Locke open his mouth wide like a lion.

Calm down now, actually there's no need to be this rushed at all, they can just proceed toward their destination, even if they don't manage to get it on the way.

In the end they can also complete a major power's mission to obtain a pass.

Passes were originally created to be issued to others.

"Then let's go, head there." Tang Luo stood up.

Black Crow said with a smile: "Sorry Locke, this job's too hard, we can't take it, you'd best find someone else."

Locke's face darkened incomparably: "Want to leave?"

"What of it?" Black Crow turned around, eyes revealing a fierce light, "We can't leave anymore?"

"You know the matter now..." Locke slowly tapped on the table, "You think I should let you go?"

"Did our brains short-circuit, asking for trouble by informing on you?" Black Crow said.

Locke said: "You need a pass, that's not asking for trouble."

Selling out the Black Oil Camp for a favor, for the Black Crow Caravan which needs an A-Class Pass, is considerably advantageous.

"Aren't you afraid of causing trouble?" Black Crow said.

Locke looked at Tang Luo, revealing a ferocious grin: "It's your own choice, now only death can solve the problem!"

A distinguished guest dying silently is no different from a mule or horse.

As he spoke, Locke suddenly pulled out the gun stuck under the table.

Black Crow's speed was a beat slow... his waist gun had been handed over to show sincerity, leaving only one sneakily hidden in his bosom.

By the time he raised his muzzle, not yet hurriedly aiming at Locke, Locke had already pulled the trigger on Tang Luo.

This is the wasteland, the collapse of order happens in a single instant.

Death descends extremely suddenly.

Locke's head burst open, like a watermelon smashed by someone.

The gun in his hand fell to the ground, went off, gunfire rang out again, the bullet grazed past Black Crow's ear, a searing heat.

"To be honest, I quite like your style, direct enough, saves time and effort."

Tang Luo withdrew his hand that had flicked the bullet back, and said to the crowd who had kicked open the door and rushed in behind him.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Gunshots erupted, reverberating across the sky above Hope Land.