This isn't the Fourth Calamity

Chapter 472 Great Migration of the Century

On the road leading to Seattle, there is a huge migrating army. The logistics support vehicles on both sides of the road are setting off cooking smoke 24 hours a day. The open windows can't see the head and tail at a glance. The sweaty chef is on the move Busy in the simple, simple kitchen, the baked bread, meat, vegetables, etc. were packed in disposable tableware, sent to the window, and piled up into a hill.

The explosive music moves from far to near. On an old RV, several rock youths stand on the roof, and a scantily clad showgirl twists her body covered in sweat. There are whistles and screams on the driveway and outside the driveway. , laughter, cursing... The showgirl raised her middle finger in the direction of the scolding sound, then tore off the sweat-soaked bodice that didn't have much fabric on her chest, and threw it there.

"Haha, people are warm, aren't they, Tom?"

The camera switched to other directions in time, but still left a hot eye scene on the screen. The live anchor was embarrassed to tease the studio thousands of miles away. It’s April, and the cold spring still retreated before the heat wave caused by the scene .

The anchor was sweating profusely, shouting at the top of his lungs amidst drumbeats, electronic sounds, cursing, and scuffling.

An armed helicopter with the logo of the National Guard skipped over from low altitude and hovered over the block ahead, where a number of private cars collided and their owners wrestled together. A large group of people screamed and watched the excitement, and some people ate fried chicken, drank beer, and whistled at the two women who wrestled together and Cui Guang suddenly appeared.

Warning, warning...

The sound of the electric horn was like it was farting, until the "Heavenly Soldiers and Heavenly Generals" carried out the airborne with a rope and forcibly separated these fighting men and women, the crowd let out a disappointed cry and moved away one after another.

They each returned to their respective vehicles, and after a while, the long convoy resumed its slow squirming.

"Damn it, it should have been transported by train, damn it!"

"Come on, the railway tracks in Beimi don't have such a high capacity."

"It makes us look like a third world country, everything is such a mess."

"But it's full of life, isn't it?"

"Uh……"

"It's been a long time since I've seen people like this ... like the 70s and [-]s, you know, an old man like me misses that time."

"Understood, understood, the golden age."

"Well, I'm very happy to see that kind of vitality in this country again, people are full of hope, moving towards a common goal, there will be disputes, quarrels and even scuffles in the middle, but no one cares afterwards, next time we meet Maybe sit down and have a drink or something."

"They will all be neighbors in the future."

"Yeah, neighbors, look at them, how happy they are laughing..."

The exclamation in the studio resonated with countless people in front of the TV. When the atmosphere was just right, a gunshot was suddenly heard.

The expressions of the host and the guests were frozen, as if they were suffering from constipation at the same time.

There were more and more gunshots, and the reporters on the scene couldn't pretend to be deaf even if they wanted to, and had to rush to the scene of the incident.

Many cars collided with each other again, and the two groups shot across a dozen cars. Those who were innocently involved fled in embarrassment, rushing off the road one after another, and a Hummer smashed a simple restaurant to pieces.

Oh God!

One side of the shootout is white, and the other side is black. The whites have special tattoos. One can tell at a glance that they are the notorious Ku Klux Klan. The blacks also have gang logos. Neither side is good.

Two Black Hawk gunships rushed over ferociously, and the electric horns only yelled a few warnings for the errands, and the heavy machine guns on them began to fire indiscriminately.

Da da da……

Tens of thousands of large-caliber bullets per minute turned the scene into a hell, and anyone with a little common sense would not think that anyone survived.

2 minutes!
Two minutes later, the airborne airborne, the cleaning, the corpses (corpse parts) were put into sacks, the burning vehicles were dragged off the road, the blood was left unattended, and traffic resumed 2 minutes later.

The media reporters on the scene shifted the camera in unison, and the anchors and guests in the studio also chatted about casual stories, waiting for the torrent to start flowing again, but within a few minutes, nothing could be seen on the blood-stained road.

Sing the song, dance the dance, and the 'golden age breath' that moved the guest to tears is back again.

"In just a few months, we built a city from nothing!"

"To be precise, it should be Mr. Conley for 98 days."

"Yeah, 98 days, I seem to have returned to the days when skyscrapers were being built everywhere. At that time, the United States was unparalleled and ahead of this planet. At that time, we were truly the chosen country , God loves this land."

"It's a pity that the hippie culture destroyed the spirit of a generation later, and the corruption and depravity made us fall into the quagmire..."

"Well, Mr. Conley, this is not the time to talk about that."

"I'm happy, really, indescribably happy..."

"Everyone is very happy... I will enter an advertisement below, and there will be more exciting content later, don't go away."

The old and the young on the TV were outraged, but Anderson, who was sitting in the RV, sneered. He turned off the TV, opened the curtains of the co-pilot, looked at the extremely slow speed of the prospect, yawned, and expressed his appreciation for the high price. The driver said he was going to sleep for a while.

The driver wore a headset and made a gesture, indicating that he was free.

"Hey hey, guess what I just heard, an old white guy blowing his mind on TV about the golden age, their golden age?"

This dude is black.

"I guess their golden age will never come back, right?"

The black buddies in the channel howled like ghosts and wolves, mocking the so-called golden age.

Anderson naturally couldn't hear this. He lay on the bed and looked at the roof of the car and couldn't fall asleep.

I can’t go online in the car. Damn it, there is no network signal as soon as I leave the urban area. Although I can log in without a network signal, the tourist helmet does not have such a function.

Anderson, who has not been online for 18 hours, feels uncomfortable all over. The exhaust fumes and engine vibrations everywhere make him have a splitting headache.

Damn!

He had no choice but to get up, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and climbed onto the roof of the car with the bottle and glass in hand.

A platform was set up on the roof, and the surroundings were fixed with fences. A space was cleared among large and small suitcases and packages, and a small table and chair were put down.

Drinking wine one glass at a time until it was getting dark.

At night, the speed of travel increased, and the people who had been busy all day were tired and returned to their cars one after another, either busy with dinner or resting.

The car lights illuminated the night brightly, and the scene was even worse than during the day. The road was full of migratory vehicles, and helicopters of various purposes overhead passed over Anderson's head every once in a while.

Migration of the century!
The media in the United States and Europe are all focusing on this grand event, and they are talking about miracles with a shy face...Fak, his tone is disgusting, it seems that no one remembers that he was forced, which seriously violates the general principles of freedom and democracy. World values, as if they were all willing - from the start.

Absolutely not at first.

But to Anderson's dismay, this is happening fast.

Maybe they were reluctant at the beginning and were persecuted in various ways, but at this time, most people have forgotten that they were 'brainwashed' by the overwhelming figures, infected by this hot atmosphere, and forgot the fact that they are leaving their hometown.

Forget it, forget it, this world is such a dark place, sometimes it's too real, it's purely against yourself.

Slightly drunk, Anderson took out a booklet from his arms to read.

Check-In Instructions for Angeles City Residents.

The thin pamphlet is almost memorized. Most of the above is bullshit. Simply refining it is nothing more than brainwashing, putting all kinds of high hats on them, and creating a compelling style of Angel City.

A line written on the back of the booklet that Anderson really cared about.

"Change the world starts here"

Because he knows a lot of truth, he is very sensitive to this sentence.

Changing the world starts here, changing the world starts here...

Maybe, maybe... someone is plotting to rule the world?
The City of Angels is the seed of fire that is bred. One day, the sparks that spread from here can start a prairie fire?

Ha ha……

I don't know what will the media, those people sitting in front of the TV envious and cheering for it look like at that time?
After finishing a bottle of wine, he stood up unsteadily, tore up the booklet, and threw it into the growing night wind.

He was going to go back to sleep, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, he would have to spend this damn road.

After a while, the explosive electronic rap sound made his ears hurt. A half-grown black guy was driving the RV instead of his father, holding the steering wheel as if he was about to play a disc.

Anderson rolled his eyes, moved the drunk black driver lying in the aisle aside, walked into his bedroom, and closed the door.

In the middle of the night, he was awakened by gunshots and explosions from the front. He muttered a few times, pulled the quilt over his head, and continued to sleep.

The next day was sunny, and the black guy was sleeping in the bathroom, sleeping soundly with his arms around the toilet, surrounded by his vomit, which made Anderson sick.

The black driver was driving the vehicle bored, moving forward.

Opening the car window, the fresh air dilutes the turbid smell inside the car. He dragged the black boy's legs and threw him on the sofa beside the aisle. He simply cleaned up the bathroom and began to wash.

For breakfast, I used the simplest oatmeal rings to soak in milk, climbed on the roof, and looked forward.

Seattle has been left behind. Just last night, the front was surrounded by the endless Gobi. On the wilderness on both sides of the road, logistics support vehicles were still accompanying them. From time to time, vehicles drove off the road, either to buy supplies, or to seek medical treatment. Ask for medicine, or have an in-depth conversation with itinerant prostitutes to relieve the fatigue of the journey.

And drugs...

During the whole process of migration, it can be said that there are no taboos. Even criminals will not be arrested at this time. As long as the progress of the migration is not disturbed, and the order of the migration is not disrupted, no one will care.

The media and the police all turn a blind eye to various crimes.

Anderson sat on the roof of the car again and became dazed, thinking about offline for a while, and thinking about online for a while.

Suddenly, I heard bursts of cheers erupting from the approaching vehicles. Looking lazily, groups of men and women climbed onto the roofs of the vehicles and waved Canaan flags.

He faintly heard the key words of the seventh test, he got up and yelled over there.

"...It's absolutely true, the Huaguo national server has already issued an announcement, the 6th test is coming to an end, and the 7th test is about to start."

"... Player qualifications are drawn first among tourists!"

"... Falk!" Anderson didn't know what to say.

The news spread faster and faster, and the cheers became louder and louder. Canaan flags were waving vigorously on the roof of the car. Horns, sirens, screams, curses, scuffles, gunshots...just like yesterday.

Still no signal, damn wireless carriers make America look like a [-]rd world country, damn it!
Throwing away the cumbersome satellite phone, and listening to the louder and louder cheers outside, Anderson's somewhat excited mood gradually calmed down.

"Is it true what they say?"

The black driver turned to him and asked.

"what?"

"The players are only drawn among tourists?"

"I don't know much more than you. You see, I can't go online."

"Damn it, it's not fair, it's not fair!"

The black driver thumped the steering wheel and muttered curses.

In fact, there have been similar rumors for a long time. Otherwise, why would there be so many tourists?
I don’t know about other national servers, at least in the US national server, tourist qualifications need to meet certain conditions before they can be registered for the lottery.

This excludes a large number of people who are homeless, have criminal records, have physical and physiological diseases and need to take drugs for a long time, addicts, etc., and these people are excluded.

Of course, such restrictions are easy to bypass, but the lowest poor are still blocked.

Anderson agrees with this. Even with such restrictions, there are still many gangsters, drug dealers, and scum who are mixed up as tourists.

Anyway, regardless of his own business, Anderson left it behind, and the next journey became much easier because of this good news.

On the morning of the third day, the City of Angels was in sight.

Looking at the silhouette of the city that appeared at the junction of the sky, Anderson's mood suddenly became much more transparent.

No matter what, it's a done deal, maybe he's thinking wildly, maybe he can turn into a player in a short time?

Joey said well, no matter what conspiracy there is, if you can't resist, just join.

Changing the world starts here!
Then can I play the role of a liberator?
"Wow, City of Angels!"

"God, did that happen naturally?"

"Paranormal? Are we going to be Superman and Spider-Man?"

"I love it here, I swear!"

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Anderson's RV lined up to pass through the 'membrane' that enveloped the city's periphery, and entered the urban area covered by dark clouds.

Behind him, more, nearly 100 million players and tourists are entering from various entrances one after another, like drops of water flowing into a pond that is gradually rising.

Invisibly, the dark clouds above the head became thicker.

(End of this chapter)