socalfunplaces Chapter 50 Taking Advantage of Her Illness to Kill Her
Chapter 50 Taking Advantage of Her Illness to Kill Her
"We must walk on three legs."
Lynn was aware of the food reserve crisis and, coupled with his experience in Rainbow Village, he remained much calmer.
"First, the hunting can't stop. Snail will lead a few new recruits with combat skills to continue clearing out prey in the surrounding suburbs. Second, select those among the laborers who know farming to cultivate experimental fields in relatively clean soil and set up the framework for farming. Third, near-shore fishing!"
"The idea is good, but there's a major problem," Big Goose interjected, frowning. "Whether it's farming or fishing, we need farm tools, water pipes, fishing nets, and winches. We've collected a bunch of scrap metal outside, but that stuff needs to be melted down and forged. I'm a chemical engineer, and Bucket is a civil engineer, and our camp... doesn't have a blacksmith!"
Just when everyone was at a loss, the little snail came up with its own idea.
"Gentlemen, if we can't make the tools, we'll buy them! We'll learn how! As for funding..."
The little snail looked at Lynn: "Boss, I propose establishing the Pearl Harbor Military-Agricultural Research Institute, and directly using equity crowdfunding!"
"Let new players invest?" Lynn raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Yes! But there must be a limit!" the little snail added. "New players have just received their credits. The system is set so that each person can only allocate a maximum of 5 to 10 credits to the crowdfunding pool. The remaining money must be forcibly reserved for them to buy water and food."
"We must ensure the camp's most basic economic cycle; we absolutely cannot drain the players dry, leaving them penniless or starving. Once they invest, they'll receive dividends as shareholders for any new muskets and farm tools we produce. That's what it means to be tied to the same chariot!"
After listening, Lynn thought to himself, "This set of financial control and empty promises is both healthy and ruthless."
"Now that the funding is secured, what about technology import?" the agent asked.
"Have you guys forgotten where we started?" The newly resurrected roasted whole sheep slapped his thigh and jumped to his feet. "The starting village! Old Lucas in Rainbow Village! That old man is a top-notch blacksmith. When we first arrived, weren't all the items we had made by him? They were incredibly useful!"
Everyone suddenly realized.
Lynn made a quick decision: "Roast a whole lamb, grab the bucket and run. I'm giving you two a new task."
"The whole roasted lamb will be responsible for escorting the team along the way, while the bucket carrier will be responsible for knowing a bit about materials and connecting with old Lucas on the technology. In any case, bring back the skills of smelting and forging. If possible, we can even try to poach old Lucas himself to Pearl Harbor."
"We guarantee to complete the mission!" the two shouted in response.
Half an hour later.
In the ruins of Pearl Harbor, new players are gathered around the little snail.
They excitedly tapped the system panel in front of them, a panel only they could see, transferring their newly acquired virtual credits into their faction's crowdfunding section, boasting to each other about their dreams of becoming Treasure Island capitalists and receiving dividends in the future.
On the wooden merchant ship docked at the pier, a roasted whole lamb and a bucket-carrying runner were pushing a handcart loaded with several heavy, broken pieces of armor and a bent musket—gifts they were bringing for old Lucas to study.
The Rainbow Village project is progressing rapidly, and work at Pearl Harbor is also proceeding as scheduled.
Before long, an abandoned area was temporarily transformed into a studio for the foreigner.
At the edge of the port, a drafty, abandoned warehouse has a crooked wooden sign hanging on it that reads "Mingzhu Port Military Industrial Research Institute".
Outside, there were dozens of shareholder players who had paid their crowdfunding credits and were eagerly waiting to receive their standard-issue firearms and start wreaking havoc.
But inside the warehouse, the atmosphere was rather strange.
"Fuck! This is totally not going to work!"
Elliott's eyes were bloodshot as he slammed an old file down on the table in frustration.
On the worktable in front of him lay more than a dozen broken muskets salvaged from the battlefield, their parts disassembled and scattered.
As a native American, Elliott has not only legally handled various firearms in real life, but is also a skilled auto mechanic who can hand-assemble RV chassis.
Therefore, Lynn rightfully entrusted him with the important task of reverse engineering.
But reality dealt this foreigner a heavy blow.
"Rain, you've come at the right time, I feel crazy!" Elliot pointed to the deformed firing mechanisms on the table and poured out his grievances to Xiao Yu, who had just entered. "Making guns isn't like forging iron! It's precision work! Their muskets, though primitive, have to be controlled to the millimeter. Without a lathe, without a ruler, I can't build them! Fuck!"
He grabbed his disheveled hair and roared desperately, "Even if Lucas, the one you're talking about, came, these handmade guns don't have standard rifling. Firing a gun with something like this isn't shooting, it's suicide bombing!"
"Not only the gun barrel, but also the materials are completely a bottleneck."
Deep inside the warehouse, a goose emerged, its face covered in soot, carrying a cracked crucible in its hand.
"I want to remelt those scrap armors, but ordinary charcoal simply doesn't reach the melting point. We need high-quality washed coal, refractory bricks to build the blast furnace, and even manganese as a catalyst for desulfurization and dephosphorization!" Big Goose wiped the sweat from his face, leaving several black marks. "Just the money we've spent on fuel and buying homemade acid in the past few days is almost gone."
The little snail standing to the side looked at the thin ledger in its hand, its face ashen.
The warehouse door was pushed open.
The expected muskets were not produced. Although the players outside did not dare to cause trouble in the GM's territory, the whispers among them could not be suppressed.
"This is outrageous! Our credit points have gone down the drain?"
"Did the game designers fail to balance the economic system properly? Is the industrial tech tree in the game really that hard to climb?"
In the corner, Infinite Resurrection was holding a glass of water, slowly sipping and savoring it.
Hearing that they couldn't manufacture guns inside, he wasn't disappointed at all. Instead, he shrugged and said, "If they can't make them, so be it. I don't want to blow myself up with a half-finished musket. I haven't enjoyed this healthy body enough yet. I can still fight with melee weapons."
Compared to the survivors who cherish their lives, the little snails and others are clearly more aggressive in their thinking.
He walked straight to Lynn, who had been observing coldly from the sidelines, and made a suggestion that represented the simple thinking of the vast majority of players:
"Boss, since scientific research is so expensive, and we've wiped out Bolton's main heavy infantry force, her mansion is definitely undefended now. Why don't we just create a siege instance?"
The little snail's eyes gleamed with the spirit of a gold miner: "Damn it! Let's strike while the iron is hot and raze her house to the ground! Steal her treasury, and we'll have enough money to buy not just lathes, but cruise ships!"