Chapter 72: An Impossible Goal

Because the support crew couldn’t handle the strain, Ren Zhong not only missed out on the luxury of human transport service but ended up riding his own bike, hauling their gear to Miraculous Revival.

Halfway there, Wen Lei recounted the entire story from the beginning.

Ren Zhong let out a silent sigh of relief, realizing his worries had been for nothing.

No one had died; everyone was still alive and well.

The only injured party was Wen Lei himself, wounded by the claw of a tier-two Ruin Beast known as the Enhanced Howling Wolf.

Had the story ended there, it would have been unremarkable. After all, it was reasonable for the designated rear guard to take injuries in battle.

The trouble lay in why Zheng Tian’s squad attempted to challenge a tier-two Ruin Beast—one they usually avoided—while clearly lacking sufficient ammunition, and ended up losing.

By the end, their supplies were exhausted, with not a bullet or scrap of food left.

The Enhanced Howling Wolf was still full of vigor, forcing the group to retreat while fighting.

Wen Lei, responsible for covering their withdrawal, risked his life. If Zheng Tian hadn’t dared to drive past and Bai Feng hadn’t thrown him an iron chain to grab onto, dragging him across the ground, Wen Lei would have been left behind.

The root of the issue began that morning.

As the squad prepared in the parking lot, Bei Lihui cruised over on his motorboat.

He called Zheng Tian forward and unleashed a tirade.

He lambasted Zheng Tian’s squad for being utterly useless, claiming that the fraction they’d turned in over the past five days was so paltry that even a lazy dog wouldn’t bother to chew it. Was it deliberate, playing them for fools, or had they truly become worthless?

Before leaving, Bei Lihui issued an ultimatum: based on the average daily quota of three to four points, Zheng Tian’s squad had to make up the week’s shortfall in the next two days.

That meant turning in at least twenty points in two days.

Failing that, their value as a team was gone.

Lin Wang would revoke their authorization, no longer allowing Zheng Tian’s squad to affiliate, forcing them to fend for themselves.

Helpless, Zheng Tian suggested simply transferring funds to cover the deficit, only to face Bei Lihui’s “righteous” refusal.

He loudly declared, “The captain set the rules and they cannot be broken. Apart from the regular percentage, not a single extra coin will be accepted from affiliated teams.”

Onlookers nodded in approval, praising Captain Lin’s reputation.

Zheng Tian knew Bei Lihui was putting on a show, but had no choice but to cooperate, making a solemn pledge and finding herself cornered.

So, from morning onward, the squad pushed themselves to the limit.

Zheng Tian racked her brains, running through every classic hunting spot she knew, but the results were pitiful.

By three in the afternoon, out of options, the group ventured into unfamiliar territory to forge new routes.

The risk increased, with multiple close calls, but their haul improved slightly, though still far from filling the quota.

After some discussion, they decided to work overtime into the night, returning by eight, so long as Wen Lei didn’t miss his eight-thirty appointment with Mr. Ren.

At 7:53, they encountered a tier-two Ruin Beast, the Enhanced Howling Wolf—a creature that only appeared at night and was the evolved form of the Night Wolf.

In theory, they stood a chance of victory, so they pressed their luck.

But Zheng Tian, thrown off her usual routine, miscalculated their ammo. She spent all her bullets, Ou You Ning emptied his wallet, yet the beast remained.

The squad had to accept defeat and flee, bitterly.

...

Clinic.

“Brother Sun, sorry to bother you so late. My friend’s pretty badly hurt.”

“Just pay up. We agreed on half price, no more whining.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. If you thank me, I’m afraid you’ll skip paying!”

...

With Wen Lei patched up and seated behind Ren Zhong on the motorcycle, he spoke gloomily, “Sorry, Mr. Ren, I made you cover the clinic fee. I'll find the captain when we get back, or I’ll just transfer the money now.”

Ren Zhong didn’t turn around. “No need. It’s nothing; this amount means little to me.”

“Mr. Ren...”

“Enough. I said what I said.”

He really couldn’t accept the money.

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The squad’s fiasco today was largely his doing.

He’d enjoyed exerting pressure, but his unfamiliarity with the survival environment of the town’s scavengers had led Zheng Tian and the others into trouble.

Ren Zhong regretted not holding back a little the previous night, on the way to Rat Cliff Mountain.

But his resentment toward the professional squads ran deeper.

Compared to ordinary scavengers, the professional squads were insurmountable mountains.

Ren Zhong thought that by keeping his distance, the mountain would never collide with him.

But this mountain had legs, and loved to throw its weight around.

If you’re their junior, earning little is unacceptable—you’ll be cast out.

Earn too much, and they’ll come for your life.

It was truly impossible.

It was disgust upon disgust, to the point of no return.

...

When the two arrived at the courtyard, the air was noticeably heavier; even Chen Hanyu had stopped reading, propping her chin in contemplation.

Zheng Tian, listless, gave Wen Lei a glance, saw his fresh bandages, and again offered to transfer money, only to be refused by Ren Zhong.

Ren Zhong thought for a moment, then probed, “If the professional squad is so harsh, why not break away and go solo?”

Zheng Tian shook her head. “When we hunt outside, we rarely clash with others because we’re affiliated with Lin Wang. Otherwise, we’d have to watch out for both Ruin Beasts and other people. It’d be impossible to take a step safely.”

“Also, every so often we can follow them to White Bone Valley for a windfall. That income is crucial. And, as far as I know, no team that left the professional squads ended well. They either fell to other scavengers or were taken out by the squads themselves.”

“Our income is transparent to them—they know exactly how much we earn. Leaving brings endless trouble. Once you board this pirate ship, it’s not easy to get off.”

Ren Zhong nodded. “I see.”

Even after dying once, nothing had changed.

He had to overthrow Lin Wang’s professional squad—otherwise, there would never be a day to rise.

This was more urgent than the census.

After all, there were eighty-four days left for the census, and at his current rate of growth, even running solo and frequenting the arms market, his gear would soon improve, and he’d stand out. Then, all three professional squads, Lin Wang included, would come knocking.

Either submit and wear the shackles, or endure and wait for slaughter, or die.

...

“How about this: tomorrow, I’ll join you for the day. I’ll handle the hunting plan. What do you think? With me, we should be able to take on tier-two Ruin Beasts.”

Ren Zhong suddenly spoke.

Zheng Tian’s face shifted from worry to faint hope.

The others reacted similarly.

Zheng Tian felt complicated, hesitating several times as if to speak.

She’d always wanted to invite Mr. Ren to join.

Ren Zhong had always evaded, neither refusing nor agreeing, keeping everyone in suspense.

Now, with the squad on the brink of collapse, it was every man for himself.

If it were up to her, she’d offer a comforting word, express helplessness, and then decisively cut ties.

That was the survival philosophy of Spark Town.

She never expected that, after searching endlessly, relief would come when least expected—Ren Zhong volunteering to join at this moment.

This wasn’t just a timely rescue; it was a shared fate.

Even though Mr. Ren was well-connected, he was, after all, only a newly promoted tier-one mecha warrior, possibly weaker than Wen Lei.

Ruin Beasts didn’t care about connections.

He couldn’t handle them!

Zheng Tian’s lips trembled; she meant to say it wasn’t necessary, but the words stuck in her throat.

Chen Hanyu spoke up instead. “Mr. Ren, it’s no use. Today we only earned four points. Tomorrow, we need sixteen more, meaning the beasts we hunt must be worth at least eighty points. It’s impossible, even with you—it really doesn’t make a difference.”

Wen Lei nodded. “Right. I’m not fully recovered, so I’ll only have half my strength tomorrow. Mr. Ren, you’re talented, but you’ve just advanced and have no real combat experience. Your joining only covers the deficit from my injury. Sigh. Mr. Ren, you really shouldn’t worry about us.”

Ren Zhong had guessed their concerns, but he glanced around and chuckled.

He truly wanted to laugh.

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He never imagined he would one day inwardly mock the natives for their lack of vision.

A six-person team earning eighty points in a day—is that really so hard?

Not to boast, but on my very first night here, I earned ninety-one points solo!

He tapped his temple.

“You think I’m just a tier-one warrior? That’s true, but also not. Let me tell you, sometimes fists are not the most important asset. I don’t know what education you received, but you’ve placed too much faith in the power of professionals, neglecting some simple truths.”

“Of course, you don’t have a proper wristwatch, can’t access the internet, and lack essential information. That’s understandable. But your objections are invalid. Tomorrow I’m joining, and I’ll handle everything.”

In that instant, the group felt a strange illusion.

They saw in this supposedly tier-one mecha warrior a man radiating brilliance.

Reason told them Mr. Ren was leading them to attempt an impossible task.

But emotionally, they sensed Ren Zhong wasn’t bluffing.

He was serious.

“So, Mr. Ren, what’s your plan for tomorrow?” Zheng Tian asked earnestly, no longer dismissive.

Ren Zhong looked at her, feeling regret.

She was undoubtedly smart; otherwise, she wouldn’t have become self-taught and built a career in the town.

But she also had inevitable flaws.

No one imparted knowledge or experience during her upbringing.

She figured out some tricks on her own, but they weren’t comprehensive or always accurate.

She couldn’t trust her life to these unreliable lessons.

Over time, she forgot the vague inspirations she once grasped.

She was like a worker on a sweatshop assembly line, using limited intelligence, mechanically following rigid methods, relying on professional skills to tough it out.

It wasn’t dullness—it was the limits of perspective and thinking.

The other semi-professional squads in town were much the same.

Maybe someone cleverer or luckier found a way to break out.

But such people kept their secrets—who would train a competitor?

If only someone had nudged Zheng Tian, reminding her that to do a job well, one must first sharpen their tools; at least one proper wristwatch in the team could let her go online and check the Ruin Beast database.

Perhaps...

Well, perhaps Lin Wang would’ve wiped her out long ago.

No solution.

With matters roughly settled, everyone went to the shared sleeping pods.

Their anxiety eased somewhat, but sober reflection brought doubt about the plan’s feasibility, and they had nothing more to say.

Ren Zhong didn’t bother explaining.

He already had a thorough plan.

He had ways to make quick money and methods for genuine, hard-fought battles.

He’d spent five nights as the Dark Lord, profiting handsomely, but hadn’t truly experienced a proper fight with a tier-two Ruin Beast.

Because, frankly, his opponents were too “weak.”

Constant shortcuts would dull his edge.

A blade unsharpened grows blunt; it was time, with bodyguards at his side, to enjoy some fierce life-and-death combat, honing his skills in blood and fire.

Tomorrow, I’ll charge ahead again, and show you what a tier-one mecha warrior more Sid Meier than Sid Meier really looks like!

No combat experience?

Ha.

I’ve even killed Bei Lihui!

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