Wasteland Border Inspector
Chapter 12: Work-for-Relief, Threat of Natural Disaster!
Since he had already been assigned to the “death sentence” of the north and south rapid inspection posts, Cheng Ye simply skipped work, too lazy to even call the checkpoint remotely to request leave.
The north and south gates were managed by the Eastern and Western factions, respectively.
The central checkpoint, meanwhile, was overseen by the two factions on a rotating basis, and today happened to be the Eastern faction’s turn, with Station Chief He Fei on duty.
“Station Chief He, something came up, and I might not be able to report to the checkpoint for a while,” Cheng Ye said, but before he could finish, He Fei’s hearty laughter came through the receiver, mingled with the constant beeping of communicators in the office.
“Cheng Ye, Station Chief Ding already mentioned your situation. Don’t worry, the rapid inspection posts are a big responsibility. It’s not easy for a newcomer to take on that role. I’ll approve your leave until the day after tomorrow. Prepare well and don’t let down Station Chief Ding or everyone’s expectations!”
He Fei emphasized the word “expectations.”
The implication was clear: taking leave to prepare was fine, but don’t think about using it to dodge the rapid inspection post.
“Got it. Thank you, Station Chief He, for understanding. I’ll report on time.”
After a few pleasantries, Cheng Ye hung up, surprised to have gained an extra day off. The tight preparation time suddenly felt much more manageable.
He fetched water and washed his face. The slightly cold water splashed against his skin, washing away the exhaustion of a sleepless night.
Staring into the mirror for a long time, Cheng Ye suddenly cracked a faint smile.
Having abruptly arrived in this unfamiliar wasteland, everything familiar, friends, family, social ties, and especially his appearance, had vanished in an instant. This left him with a profound sense of emptiness and unreality, as if he were detached from the world.
A voice in his mind had kept shouting: What’s the point of struggling? Give up. Giving up might let you return to the familiar Earth, free from this man-eating wasteland where you’re suffocating in vain.
This thought had been festering over time.
For the past two months, Cheng Ye often woke from nightmares, standing by the window or on the rooftop, more than once tempted to “reset” and try again.
But now, he suddenly realized those thoughts had completely vanished.
It seemed to have happened last night, as if with the growth of his strength, they had disappeared entirely.
Even stranger, as he gazed at his reflection, countless new thoughts flooded his mind.
He was struck with a realization, a discovery, that he might actually be starting to like this world?
That he was reluctant to leave?
Not just because, like Earth, there were people here who genuinely cared for him and treated him well.
But because this world, fraught with danger and undercurrents, was just too damn thrilling!
The games between people, the struggle between the two factions, the calculations that could mean life or death at any moment.
Compared to the repetitive daily grind on Earth, where securing a stable job meant seeing the rest of your life laid out predictably, this life was exhilarating.
“Damn, am I a masochist or something?”
Liking thrills and being fed up with repetition should be two entirely different traits.
Cheng Ye thought it over and decided he leaned more toward the latter, but his personality had been suppressed by his environment, unable to shine through.
If given another chance to choose between the two worlds, Cheng Ye wasn’t entirely sure he’d firmly choose to return to Earth, to a life as predictable as an NPC’s.
“With my identity, there’s no way I could integrate into the Western faction.”
It wasn’t just his Eastern appearance but also Cheng Long’s influence and Liu Bi’s status. Unless Cheng Ye could completely sever those ties, the Western faction would never accept him.
“So, to survive, there’s only one straightforward way: get back to the table and prove my worth.”
This wasn’t actually difficult for Cheng Ye.
His strength had undergone a dramatic transformation, far surpassing the impression Ding Yishan had of him.
“Without relying on anyone’s help, I’ll get through the initial phase at the rapid inspection post.”
“Then, I’ll find the right opportunity to show off my combat skills and overall ability. I refuse to believe that if my value surpasses Garcia’s, Ding Yishan would still risk going all-in with the Western faction!”
Wiping the water droplets from his face, Cheng Ye returned to his room and stuffed the remaining seven bags of nutrient paste into his backpack.
To quickly adapt to the inspector role, he had focused most of his energy on mastering the inspection process, memorizing the theoretical knowledge, and even breaking a minor checkpoint record.
But this allocation of time meant his understanding of infected entities and the wasteland world was limited, or rather, he hadn’t had the time to care about learning it to survive.
Now, assigned to the rapid inspection post, these were things he needed to grasp urgently.
“Two days should be enough to familiarize myself with common infected response methods.”
Cheng Ye put on his raincoat, grabbed his backpack, and headed out.
After the delay from a few phone calls, it was past eight o’clock, and the main district was bustling again.
Along the way, low-lying areas were indeed flooded, with residents inside desperately scooping water out with buckets, looking disheveled.
Perhaps due to the influx of new residents, relief tents had been set up outside several large malls.
Anyone newly registered in Happiness City could claim three bags of nutrient paste per day for three days with their resident permit, free of charge.
Additionally, the Works Department had set up several “work-for-relief” recruitment tents.
Cheng Ye pushed through the crowd, scanning the hastily scrawled posters, which outlined three main tasks:
1. Repairing old underground drainage systems and various pipelines.
Payment was per person, with 16 Happiness Coins per day, equivalent to eight bags of nutrient paste. Compared to surface drainage work, it was a lucrative job.
However, the difficulty was significant, as the underground environment was complex, filthy, and carried a high risk of injury.
1. Assisting official teams to expand the buffer zone’s lateral area.
The current buffer zone was built on Chuan City’s old industrial area, surrounded mostly by empty wastelands and abandoned factories.
Creating more living space would accommodate more refugees and ensure personal space.
Payment was also per person, at 12 Happiness Coins per day.
1. Leaving the buffer zone to scavenge in the city ruins or gather resources from designated locations.
As was customary, after the summer rains, a cool, rainless autumn would follow.
Simple canvas tents couldn’t withstand the harsh winter, so building materials had to be prepared in advance.
Construction during autumn would allow more weatherproof housing to be built before winter.
Due to the high risks, this task’s compensation varied based on the type and weight of materials recovered.
“Winter…”
The first two tasks reflected the buffer zone’s current development priorities: repairing the old city and expanding laterally.
This wasn’t surprising, as most high-rise buildings from the old era, weathered by time, had become hazardous. Repairing them was far more challenging than rebuilding from scratch.
Add to that the elusive mutated beasts and highly threatening infected entities, and the city ruins were a forbidden zone for life, ventured into only by daring scavengers.
The third task, however, highlighted the buffer zone’s current vulnerabilities.
With refugees flooding in like a tide, the buffer zone was already stretched to its limit.
“When winter hits, everything freezes. The dam’s power won’t be enough to supply the inner city, let alone the buffer zone. Power outages are certain, and heating is out of the question. If we don’t expand frantically in autumn, everyone in tents will turn into popsicles.”
Pushing out of the crowd, Cheng Ye wiped the water from his face, quietly taking note.
With the thin walls of the workers’ compound, if outside temperatures dropped below minus twenty degrees, the inside would feel like an icebox, and illness would strike within days.
But now wasn’t the time to worry about surviving winter. First, he had to figure out how to survive the rapid inspection post before he could think about tackling the coming natural disasters.
Boarding the bus, its mud-caked wheels splashed through puddles, the vehicle rocking violently on the muddy road.
Cheng Ye gripped the handrail, his gaze sweeping over the dilapidated buildings retreating rapidly through the blurred rain outside.
He usually traveled from the main district to the southern training ground, but this was his first time heading north.
Unlike the south, with its open spaces and factories, the north was an old industrial residential area. Tightly packed houses lined the roads, their walls covered in moss and cracks.
Some windows lacked glass, haphazardly boarded up with broken planks, while others stood wide open, revealing pairs of lifeless eyes staring out.
As the journey continued, the hoarse announcer called out “Library Station,” and Cheng Ye stepped off the bus alone, under the collective gaze of the passengers.
A damp, hot breeze mixed with rain slapped his face, water splashing onto his rain boots.
Looking up, he saw a three-story building, once a community service center, now converted into a so-called library. Warm yellow light poured through its glass windows.
In the gray, cold-toned world of this rainy, overcast day, the orange glow in the rain stirred a rare sense of “happiness” in Cheng Ye’s heart.