Time flies, and two weeks have passed. Tang Ji seems to have forgotten the existence of the player, and has been practicing hard in the City of Night.
Every morning when he wakes up, he smells the turbid car exhaust in Night City. The smell is pure. Tang Ji just leans by the window and watches the blood pressure-raising road conditions in Night City on the morning news.
Downstairs, Sirte forced Tang Anran's life-saving capsule from the bedroom into the dining room. Edward directed Xiao Su to handle it gently, then walked into the kitchen and started to show off his cooking skills.
Edward has lived a very fulfilling life in the past two weeks. This kind of fulfillment cannot be brought by many young girls. He regards Tang Anran as his own grandson. Of course, now he may also add Surte.
"Egg rolls with bacon, or maple syrup waffles?" Edward, wearing an apron, raised his half-finished breakfast to Soult and asked.
"Waffles!" Soult raised his hands happily, being like a child whose mental age is smaller than his physical age. His demand for sweets is almost endless, but the good news is that he doesn't have to worry about excessive calories.
.
"What about you, Don? Do you want to try my craftsmanship?" Edward asked Tang Ji who was walking downstairs. He could clearly feel that the temperature in the room had dropped a bit with Tang Ji's appearance.
Tang Ji shook his head and rejected Edward's kindness. He walked out of the room and used a shovel to dig out a bag of gray corn sealed in a bag from the small yard outside. He randomly selected a few and carried it back to the restaurant.
"Stop! If you insist on using my microwave to heat that thing, at least wait until we finish eating!" Edward frowned. He didn't know why Tang Ji had to eat those gray and greasy things every meal.
thing, but he knew that it had an indescribable earthy smell, especially after it was heated, and almost no one could stay in the kitchen.
Tang Ji shrugged, stood directly at the door and gnawed the corn.
For him, it is not important whether the food is heated or not, whether it is raw or cooked, and even the concept of eating on time is more important than the meal itself.
Edward didn't say anything. He could feel that Tang Ji was in a difficult stage. He didn't offer help. The best help he could provide was not to cause trouble.
Soult could also feel a different kind of pressure from Tang Ji, as if he had been sitting next to a lit gunpowder keg.
But Tang Ji himself didn't feel this abnormality. He just became more silent than before, sometimes not wanting to say a word for several hours.
Tang Ji stood in front of the observation window of Tang Anran's life-saving cabin, looked at that little face, reached out and touched it gently, turned around, walked back upstairs, and sat by the window.
Three hours passed, and Tang Ji didn't even change his posture, as if he couldn't feel the passage of time.
The instinct of rage is constantly urging him to move. This quiet and forbearing restraint makes Fury particularly sensitive, as if there is an invisible shadow, constantly shouting in his ears with a silent cry.
shout.
When Tang Ji looked out the window, he would be angry at the skyscrapers blocking his view, wishing he could rush over there right now and demolish the building to its foundation.
When a vehicle passes by, Tangji will feel angry that it has destroyed the tranquility here, and wants to burn it and the driver to ashes.
Many people have experienced this moment of inexplicable rage. The only difference is that Tang Ji needs to maintain restraint in his behavior because he can turn fantasy into reality.
Tang Ji knew that this was a violent instinct protesting, urging him to vent and fight.
As he sat there, the constant sirens from that night of the red sun would be heard in his ears, but when he saw An Ran's face, the image of him being covered in blood on the night he was born would automatically come to mind.
Tang Ji sat where he was, letting himself be surrounded by this scene.
If his specialness is really given by Gaia's will, then it must be urging Tang Ji to continue doing his work and not be idle.
But he chose to believe in his 'old friend' the prophet, and was always fighting against his own instincts.
Wang Zhengdao called yesterday to tell Tang Ji that the prophet had completely lost consciousness and might not be able to hold on for long.
The Ark organization had experienced a power transition before, so this time it seemed particularly peaceful. Except for a few elder members who made a special trip to visit the prophet's retreat on the island of Malta, no other turmoil was caused.
Thanks to Mikkelsen colluding with the player, the two sides have turned from enemies to potential allies in the blink of an eye, and the prophet can be so aboveboard and enjoy a few days of sunshine on the island of Malta in his last days.
As time goes by, Mikkelsen's reputation among the player community is growing day by day. Some new players even only know Mikkelsen but not Markarian.
This humorous, joke-like story all stems from Tang Ji's intimidating power.
Those pioneers who knew everything from beginning to end wanted to carry Mikkelsen into their command center in eight sedans. As long as he could make Tang Ji stay in Night City and never come out, everything would be easy.
And those top players of the player group who had a vague understanding of Tang Ji had enough respect for Mikkelsen who could control Tang Ji.
For a time, the special zone became a link between Mikkelsen and the players, and the two sides seemed to be working together to build a harmonious society where players and indigenous people could prosper together.
The only disharmonious place is within the special zone.
Mitch Shepard was one of the first volunteers to enter the Special Administrative Region. At that time, she was full of enthusiasm and wanted to dig out a big news to give her career a second chance.
But now, she has long put her career as a talk show host aside.
Mitch Shepard is now the founder of the Roseville Railway Organization and the leader of the largest resistance organization in Roseville. She will devote her whole life to the great cause of fighting against the brutal alien rule.
Of course, her current focus is to give citizens who wish to escape the SAR a chance to leave this hell on earth alive.
"Shepard, our people have found another shopkeeper who is willing to help." Chaval Ortega held a cigar he got from nowhere in his mouth, and his arm was wrapped with a thick bandage, looking unruly.
Sitting on a table unruly, his tone was full of show off.
"What can he provide?" Michelle Shepard asked without raising her head. There was a thick stack of applications in front of her, with different sizes and different handwriting.
Those applicants who wished to leave the Special Administrative Region submitted them through secret mailboxes left everywhere by the railway organization. Mitch Shepard forced himself to harden his heart and look at the applications filled with the desire to survive.
She knew very well that the new railway organization was a seedling that could not withstand any wind and rain, was weak in strength, and had no ability to compete head-on with the enemy.
The reason why they are able to take people in the special zone out of the special zone is entirely because there are some soldiers in the nearby military technology armed forces guarding the border of the special zone who sympathize with the people of the special zone and are willing to turn a blind eye when necessary.
And when this sympathy from the crocodile will expire, no one knows.
There are many people submitting applications every day. As time goes by, the players in the special zone have completely entered the state. They no longer express themselves reservedly, but have entered an unscrupulous state.
There are deaths every day, accidents every day, and anyone with a right mind now realizes what a trap they have fallen into.
The first petition came from a father who begged the railroad to help him and his family, natives of Roseville, who had made the wrong choice to stay in their hometown during the early stages of the evacuation.
Now they are starting to pay the price.
He has a six-year-old son and a 12-year-old girl. The child's mother had just died in an attack from a player. The children were frightened, and so was he. They hid in the basement of their home every day.
Hearing the sounds above his head with fear.
He swore that he mustered up all his courage to find the railway organization's mailbox. This was his last hope. If he didn't get a response, he might choose to find a more dignified way to leave this world with his children.
Mitch Shepard closed her eyes in pain. She felt that she was not ready to take on such a heavy responsibility, but now the power to decide the fate of a family of three was in her hands.
She could only put the application on the left hand side, which meant that she would not respond for the time being. She sentenced the man and his two children to death.
Mitch Shepard must do this. They only have a window of less than two hours every three days. After all, not every soldier has such a sense of justice.
From the edge of the city to the zone's border with the Chihuahuan Desert is a long stretch of almost unobstructed wilderness. They must rely on the cover of two superhumans who have mastered camouflage and invisibility abilities in order to pass smoothly.
Therefore, after the escort team dug out two crucial disguised personnel, guides and guards, they could only bring six people with them at a time, six people who had enough physical strength to walk through the wasteland in two hours.
Therefore, the elderly, children, disabled people, and the injured almost all do not meet the standards. These vulnerable groups can only be temporarily ignored until a more suitable route is found.
"Are you listening to me?" Chaval Ortega stood in front of Shepard at some point, waving his big hands back and forth in front of her eyes: "Did you hear that? He can provide fifteen automatic weapons, and...
There are fifteen thousand rounds of ammunition, damn, there are so many hidden dragons and crouching tigers in this small place!"
"I heard you, Chavar. Now let me be quiet. I'm selecting the people to evacuate the night after tomorrow." Mitchell Shepard looked at Chavar and sighed.
How a Night City talk show host and a prisoner from Night City met together is almost another story, but at the moment, Chaval Ortega is undoubtedly the strongest force in the entire railway organization.
ensure.
Without him, the entire organization might not be able to exist in this city where nearly a thousand players are active.
But Chaval Ortega was unable to participate in the evacuation operation. The nanobots in his blood prevented him from approaching the border area of the Special Administrative Region.
Since the establishment of the Railway Organization, Shepard has successfully planned two evacuation operations. Thanks to her old profession, the Railway Organization has broadcast its great achievements throughout the special zone through underground radio stations, creating a huge momentum and providing support for the entire Special Administrative Region.
The foundation is laid for the vigorous development of the organization.
But along with fame came dozens of times more application records, from which Mitch Shepard tried to find those who needed the most help and were also the most suitable.
This behavior of constantly tormenting herself was obviously beyond her ability to bear. Just the first application that was eliminated made her feel breathless.
Next, she needs to eliminate another 147 applications, leaving only six, or even fewer, because most applicants do not apply only for themselves.
"Shepard, you are not God. At times like this, you should leave the choice to fate." Shavar Ultraga took a step forward and snatched the thick stack of applications before Shepard could react.
Books were thrown high above the head, letting them fall in all directions.
Chaval Ortega casually fished it up in the air, grabbed a handful of applications and pushed them to Mitch Shepard, and said proudly: "Look, I helped you solve ninety-five percent of the work. This is
The choice of fate.”
"These are human lives!" Mitch Shepard was both angry at Chaval's contempt for life, but also grateful for his concern. He could only punch him a few times to express his feelings, and then bent down to pick up a piece.
Zhang picked up those application forms.
As a result, Chaval Ortega took advantage of the situation and put Mi Qie in his arms: "Don't pick it up, it's useless. You are not the savior. You can only take away six people, and these six people do not mean that they will get on the ark."
"
Mitch Shepard was silent.
She once persuaded those soldiers who sympathized with their plight to contact Night City News Channel 54 to expose everything that happened in the Special Zone, but the other party just laughed it off.
After the first two successful evacuation operations, Shepard also solemnly asked every evacuee to appeal to others in the special zone and tell the world what happened here after they left.
But time passes day by day, and nothing changes. The special zone is still a special zone. Miche even heard that the European Union is turning Paris into a special zone and building a larger special zone.
Maybe it’s hard for you to accept this, but if I put it another way, for example, the establishment of the special zone is a decent compromise method for the defeated side, wouldn’t it be easier for you to accept it?
Dorbis Sargent's words were still echoing in his ears, but Shepard didn't understand. How could they become the losers when nothing happened?
Humanity, at least, deserves an ending that is spectacular, with rivers of blood and raging wars, where everyone can feel that we have tried our best, right?
"No, there are other ways." Mitchell Shepard broke away from Shavar's arms and turned to look at him: "We still have Tang Ji, I don't believe he will let the special zone exist!"
PS: It’s convex (艹盘艹), I was having a great time writing the words, but I didn’t pay attention to the time. After I finished writing, I saw that it was already past twelve o’clock.
