Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Oh, Happy Day!
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"Isn't this... way more dangerous than I thought?"
"Y-Yeah...? People's reactions are really... um... intense?"
About ten minutes after I dropped that bombshell in the chat room, it had turned into absolute pandemonium.
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- Jokasss: Eheera diya~ Sound the trumpets~
- Deer Drug Please: Oh nooo~ Father God! Professor, someone stop our Professor~ Oh my gosh!!! The heavens are so heartless!!!
- Take a Look: You need to steel your heart, ma'am. Professor... seems to have made up his mind already.
- Deer Drug Please: I raised him step by step, starting from when he came crawling in here whining "How do I adjust the shelter camouflage output?" like a baby! No, Professor! Auntie can't let you go like thiiiis!!!
From the regulars I'd seen around for ages,
+ Player 'Whale is Coming' has entered the chat room.
+ Player 'Morning Joy Multi-Time' has entered the chat room.
+ Player ..... has...
+ Player ...... has...
To newcomers from other zones, drawn in by the sudden explosion of activity.
- Whale is Coming: What the hell's this? Why's the zone chat suddenly blowing up like this? Some festival?
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: No, it's a funeral.
- Take a Look: Ahh, our wasteland's self-assured son! Our great revolutionary comrade Professor has boldly declared his intent to pursue conditional concept play around 1302 today!
- Whale is Coming: ???!!!!
- Morning Joy Multi-Time: Woooh~! A man with that kind of spirit still kicking around~!
- Number Three: Stop right there, dude. That's hell up ahead!
- Take a Look: (Roughly swinging a coffin meme)
- Deer Drug Please: Professoooorrrr!!!!
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.
.
.
Holy shit.
"How many people is this now?"
"The chat speed's gotta be three... no, four times normal."
On days like today with sandstorms raging, folks couldn't go outside, so the community got busier than usual. But still, for this many to pile in within ten minutes?
Seemed like everyone was bored out of their minds—notifications of new entrants kept flooding in nonstop.
"What the hell... what am I supposed to do here?"
"Obviously! This mess is all because of what you said, owner! Least you can do is play traffic cop! Honestly, more people is good news for us looking for solid conditional plays! Do something quick!"
"Ah, got it."
Scratching his head at Corduro's prodding, Professor tapped away at the access terminal's circuit board again.
- Professor: Aren't you guys overreacting? Just saying I'm gonna grind the game for cash.
- Speed Wagon: Bullshit no
- Professor: ?
- Speed Wagon: You know what concept play even is, right?
....I thought I did, but when this guy asked, I started wondering if I really knew.
- Professor: Yeah. Getting paid to do hardcore play.....right?
- Speed Wagon: Then you hear about the effects GG has on players' minds from Dome's recent announcement?
- Professor: ?
"Corduro. What the hell's that mean?"
"Hmm.... Beats me? My database only goes up to pre-catastrophe, so I'm kinda in the dark too...."
"Useless piece of junk."
Brushing off Corduro's whining, I focused on the chat. Didn't know what Speed Wagon's deal was, but he often dropped info bombs like this, and from experience, his stuff was usually spot-on reliable. Sure enough, chat started filling with exasperated posts.
- Speed Wagon: You saw that one too, right? The cannibal horror play guy.
No way I hadn't. It was plastered all over the GG streaming platform homepage for ages.
- Professor: Yeah
- Holy: It was famous enough I checked it out once..... Couldn't watch with my eyes open.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Why? I thought it was pretty fun.
- Holy: .....
- Number Three: Damn, folks around here got some spice.
- Take a Look: Gaybarshack please just die already.
I got the reactions. That shit wasn't even remotely "fun viewing" material by any stretch. True to GG's pursuit of extreme realism, it served up taboo stuff like cannibalism with zero filters. And it all streamed out raw. Personally? The fact that crap had that much demand showed just how fucked this world was.
- Professor: Shut up and let Speed Wagon drop the info.
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- Speed Wagon: Traffic control thx. Anyway, that player died about a month ago.
- Professor: Why?
- Speed Wagon: Starved to death.
- Take a Look: ???
- Jokasss: Didn't that guy do concept play for over six months? Heard he raked in insane sponsorships.
Exactly. GG had the attention of every survivor worldwide. A stream topping charts for months? Sponsorships alone would've been massive—how the hell does someone like that starve?
- Speed Wagon: Short version: During his one-month concept contract, he never stopped that bullshit for a second. When he finally got out, he started puking at the sight or smell of veggies or normal food. And weirdly, just seeing passersby—especially kids—sparked his appetite....
Repulsed by vegetables and regular food, craving humans. Matched the traits of the character that guy played on stream exactly.
- Highway Nacho Man: Whoa
- Deer Drug Please: No way.
- Speed Wagon: Yup, exactly what you're thinking. Contract was with some high-up Underdome exec, so no backing out. Finished the full month, brain broke, kept playing sans contract 'cause he couldn't fight the urges anymore. Eventually even rejected IV fluids and starved.
- Speed Wagon: As we all know, Dome nerds go apeshit over anything GG-related. They researched this—turns out strong mental shocks or immersion in GG can seriously fuck with your real mind. Dunno the mechanics.
- Professor: No way
- Speed Wagon: Simple terms: Lose your sanity in-game, and the fairy tale starts for real. But that game's full of berserk potions and euphorias—data drugs everywhere. Anything but straight-laced play breaks your brain. No wonder folks rank 'Steadfast Mind' as the top irreplaceable trait.
- Highway Nacho Man: Whoa.....
- Holy: Huh, explains why even account-rich types avoid deep GG dives....
- Speed Wagon: Big shots sniffed it out early. They hear and see everything.
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Aha! So that's why I'm like this—all the game's fault?
- Deer Drug Please: No wonder me too.....
- Speed Wagon: Nah, you're just retards.
"......"
Lost for words.
"......Hey. Corduro."
"Yes, owner."
"We quit this shit."
"Wise choice indeed~"
I'd been willing to tough it out, but after hearing that? Hell no. What? Changes your fucking mind? What the hell did that old fart Gedroits build? Two years of lawsuits and hate turn him goth?
No second thoughts—I killed the community screen.
'Survive on game streams' project? Canceled. No point risking 99.9% brain-fry for pocket change.
Scrap the plan. Find stable ceiling income ASAP.
From experience, ideas hit when you're out doing something, not brooding.
Better to bust ass at manual labor for extra scraps than sit idle.
Decision made—time to move.
"Corduro, I'm heading out. Weather?"
"Hmm.... Not great. Lv.2 sandstorm.... Radiation's low though."
"Visible enough. While I'm gone, scout dinner and ceiling sources."
"Yep! Got it! Stay safe~!"
Hearing Corduro's send-off, I stepped into the airlock. Sigh escaped me. Yeah, who was I kidding with streaming? Back to eating dirt.
Psssh-
Shelter door opened to the familiar wasteland. If push came to shove, I'd raid some psycho's stash.
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Beep-! Beep-!
"Owner! Wake up! Owner! Ownerrrr!!!!"
"Ugh..... Shut it, Corduro..... Got back at dawn...."
"If you don't get up now, you might never see another dawn! Emergency! Emergency!!!"
"....!"
Emergency snapped my eyes open, cold clarity flooding in. Corduro was autonomous AI, but programmed to follow rules—no "emergency" unless shit was truly dire.
Clack!
Yanking the shotgun from under the pillow as I rolled off the bed and flattened prone. Main door, airlock: clear. No exterior hatch traces. That red light.... emergency beacon?
Flickering dimly, it clicked—situation I'd pegged for a month or two out. Beacon meant power shortage—blackout? Fuck. Power just crapped out?
Shotgun ready for worst-case, I crawled to the system panel. Handle spot had a nasty weld scar. Right. Shit.
"Corduro. Why's stored power drained already? Main generator died, sure, but pre-charge should've lasted a month! Unless.... we got raided?"
"If raided, your head would've flown before the power! Last night's sandstorm.... Debris from it nailed the already-coughing main gen dead-on! All stored juice shorted out!"
Generator. Hit. By debris?
Head rang like a sucker punch to the jaw.
"Motion turrets? Shields doing jack shit!"
"You came back empty-handed last night, so you said cut shields and turrets to minimum—no waste!"
"Goddamn it!!!!!"
Memories flooded. Busted ass all afternoon for zilch, rage-quit and slashed systems to bare minimum: "Nothing coming in? Cut outgoing too!"
Exhaustion plastered Professor's face as despair sank in. "Sky falls? Hole to climb out." But if crushed from the waist down at fall-time? No hole saves you.
The faintly blinking beacon felt like his own fading heartbeat. Professor's heart chilled.
".....Hey. Corduro."
*Sniff.* "Yes?"
"That battery. Remaining capacity?"
"Roughly three days at minimum output."
"Drop shields, camo, turrets. Keep greenhouse and access terminal?"
"Then.... about a week?"
Good enough. One day hunting gasoline seller on GG exchange. Unmanned drone delivery same zone: max five days.
Judgment swift. Action swifter. Professor rose, habit from five solo survival years barking orders.
"Corduro. Open chat room."
"Owner.... You don't mean?"
"Yeah. No time for pride."
No room for leisure meant calm focus.
'Right, this is the wasteland. Got too soft lately.'
White screen bloomed. Professor sighed deep, diving into the giggling community horde.
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- Professor: Conditional play. No limits. Need taker now. Minimum sponsorship 700k ceiling mandatory.
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