Wasteland Echoer.

Chapter 8 Package
  The person in front of him was nearly thirty years old, with silver hair, and was wearing a silver-white guard uniform. His green eyes were full of good-natured ridicule towards Wright.

He is slightly taller than Wright and has a much stronger build. The slight scar on his broad, angular face and the old tactical trousers covered with hidden patches all indicate that he is also an experienced man. The [Warrior] who fights.

There are some hints of this person in the memory fragments in Wright's mind, but apart from vaguely knowing that he has a good relationship with him, there seems to be only one name left - Brett Klein.

It seems to be the name of a great family in the old Western Continent Empire before the New Yuan Dynasty.

"Okay, I see you are also in a daze. Hit told me that you fainted after coming out of the underground entrance alone. You were smelling of alcohol. If he hadn't called in the mechanical warfare of the escort team, I'm afraid you'll freeze to death in the car. Well, I'm not here to accuse you. General George asked me to bring you something. By the way, he values ​​you very much." Brett said and patted Wright hard again. shoulders.

What? Fainted at the entrance? Still smelling of alcohol? Shouldn't I have fainted after fighting the Lost One? By the way, there is also the red magic source power. By the way, the man named Yatuo elicited the red magic source power but did not tell me the details.

Looking at the rare bright morning light that penetrated from the dome, Wright felt even more sleepy than the dim night. He covered his forehead with his right hand and tried to make himself more awake. However, his calves became weak and he almost fell down. underground.

"Hey, be careful. Brother Wright, you really can't drink so much. None of the old guardsmen who went in with you are like you. You have to change your old habits." Brett said worriedly. Wright helped him sit down on the dilapidated stairs aside and said rather resentfully:

"By the way, old man George is going to give you a few days off. You can go anywhere these days, just don't wear guard uniforms, and you can study this thing. Don't you like tinkering with these machines? It’s left for you. But it’s a pity, we have combat missions all day long, so there’s no way we can take a day off.”

After saying that, he took out something wrapped in coarse cloth from his arms. It was slightly larger than the palm of his hand. When he pinched it, it felt hard to the touch. The thing inside seemed to be a box.

"Oh, thank you." Haibo carefully took the small package and put it in his jacket pocket.

"By the way, Wright, I heard from Hit that you went in with that boy De, and you came out so drunk. Has he come back? There is something wrong with calling him over at the Guards Headquarters. If you say something about him, say it yourself every day. He tries to abide by the rules, but when he gets to the point where no rules apply to him, Brett complained.

"Uh, De?" Haibo's nerves, which had just been relaxed, suddenly became tense.

Although De was penetrated by Yato the Lost, he was afraid that he would be infected and was forced to "help" him. But if the higher-ups in the escort team find out about this, he will inevitably be suspected of attacking his colleagues.

Moreover, the underground space is extremely dark and almost no one passes by. Even if checking the water channels is a task assigned by the superiors, if something happens there, you will inevitably be wronged.

What's more, I am just a low-level guard member who has just been transferred from the outer area. He is my captain. If the matter is spread, the front page of the city newspaper will read:

"Shocked! In the dark underground of Sogra, the members of the escort actually did this to the captain! It's outrageous!"

Although he was induced to know the secret of the "red magic source power" that he had written before, the people from the Socra Committee and the Socra Military Tribunal would not speak to him.

He now has two choices: one, tell Brett the truth, and then ask to hide it with him.

Second, keep it a secret, don't tell anyone, and pretend that De has disappeared.

I'm sorry, De, your sacrifice will definitely be meaningful in the future.

Without any hesitation, Wright chose the latter!
  "Well, I'm not sure. I guess... I probably drank too much last night. I can't remember clearly what happened after checking the No. 27 waterway."

"Oh, forget it, you can have a good rest. But Wright, if you are in danger, come to me immediately. After all, I came to this city two years before you did."

Brett saw Wright's answer and did not ask further questions, but there was still a trace of doubt and worry in the corners of his eyes that were not easy to detect.

Since something like that happened near the newly excavated ruins outside Sogra two days ago, when we meet again, it seems that the Wright in front of him has become strange, but he still has the same black pupils and the fluent and iconic Zine Empire There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the dialect.

After a few pleasantries, Brett patted Wright on the shoulder again and said goodbye to him worriedly.

Although they are good friends, the thing that is currently weighing on the guard's head, apart from the German who has not yet returned to the team, is the "Blood Night Ritual" set by the Socra Committee half a year ago. He has a premonition of this secret that has been silent for five years. Big events will happen in the wasteland city that has lasted for more than a hundred years.

"Huh, I'm finally gone. This Brett seems to be Wright... uh, my most important friend. Indeed, friends in the wasteland are a rare asset, and Germany's affairs should not be hidden from him. But compared to this From a point of view, the life of every living person should be the most important." Wright complained, and he had naturally and fully integrated into Wright's identity.

The humming of machinery outside was still mixed with the sour smell of sewers and kept pouring into the small three-story house he rented. It seemed that he had long been accustomed to this in his memory.

I tried to move my sore calf, but fortunately there was nothing wrong with me. It was just because of my poor physical fitness and the previous fierce battle with the Lost and the Heartless that exhausted my energy.

Sleep alone is still not enough to restore all physical strength. Moreover, for some reason, Wright, oh, no, he was injured, so it seems he needs to replenish himself.

General George gave me almost a thousand new coins before. If converted into new ducats, the world's golden universal gold coin, one is an ounce, which is estimated to be 28.57. However, these new ducats should not be that convenient to carry around, rather than these banknotes.

Thinking of this, Wright ignored the pain in his legs and body and stumbled upstairs, holding on to the dilapidated handrails that made a "squeaking" sound like a wooden bed shaking left and right at any time.

"It's still these banknotes. Although I don't quite remember why he gave them to me, George objectively gave me protection in this city. I have to thank him properly when I have the opportunity. Of course, this large amount of wealth cannot be spent all now. Although I no longer regard money as dirt, after all, I don’t know if there is any other means of income.” Thinking of this, Wright will take out the brand new new currency banknotes from his jacket pocket, with the portrait of the city hero of Socrates printed on the front. Open it and take one from the middle and put it on the table.

Immediately afterwards, he fumbled and found a circular switch at the bottom of the dark table. Relying on his skilled daily memory, Wright first moved almost two spaces to the left, and then pulled out a small drawer from the middle of the big drawer and put the remaining banknotes and A bunch of mechanical parts saved up at some point were put together.

After doing all this, Wright glanced at the half of the black bread he had eaten yesterday at the corner of the table. After hesitating for a long time, he was ready to finish the remaining food before buying anything else.

"As expected, it's still tasteless." Wright used an idiom with a wry smile.

Everything in the wasteland is precious. For humans without special power protection, a slight virus or mysterious power will kill them instantly.

Therefore, everything in the wasteland is worth cherishing, including food.

In Wright's memory fragments, food snatching often occurred in the outer areas of Socra city and even other strongholds ruled by the Zine Empire. In fact, sometimes it was not just food, but also medicines, bandages, daily necessities, and even the opposite sex. Being robbed as objects.

Fortunately, the city of Socra retained many of the pre-New Yuan technologies of the Zine Empire. At least some crops could be grown in greenhouses under this dark dome.

After eating the bread completely, Wright's empty and constantly "roaring" belly finally felt a little satisfied.

It seems that these are not enough. I feel like Yatuo has done something terrible to me. The red magic source power makes my body weaker. No, I still have to buy some food. By the way, I also have the magic source power. Let’s learn more about the red magic source power.

Since Yato, the lost one, is unwilling to tell me the truth, or there is something that cannot be said clearly, then I have to rely on myself.

But what should we buy first? This is a wasteland world, and the food is not that abundant, but there should be animal offal, plant roots and less important animal blood. Those things are cheap, delicious, clean and hygienic.

How about getting a hexagonal copper container and making a hot pot?

It seems quite ritualistic!

After complaining for a while, Wright's attention was still attracted by the dark yellow package on the table.

I had noticed its existence since I woke up from my sleep just now, but I ignored it for a while because of the interruption from my landlady Reina and my good friend Brett.

Is it from General George? By the way, why not ask Mrs. Reina if anyone has been in or out of my room.

Thinking of this, Wright habitually opened the door, stood on the stairs and shouted downstairs:
  "Mrs. Lena, has anyone been to my room?"

After four or five seconds, there was a sound of heavy and rapid footsteps mixed with words like the crowing of a rooster:
  "I didn't know that I locked the door after you went out. I'm warning you, if you lose something, you are responsible for it. Don't rely on me!"

"Oh."

After giving a perfunctory response, Wright was no longer obsessed with the person who delivered the package, but the package itself.

He carefully looked at the thing wrapped in yellow kraft paper. It seemed that there was nothing valuable inside, otherwise it would not be packaged in such a cheap way.

Maybe, there's food inside? The second package from General George?

What if there is a bomb or a virus?
  After struggling for a few minutes, Wright still shook his head. After all, if someone wanted to harm him, they had already succeeded a hundred times during the time when he traveled through the world and when he went underground in Socra. This thing might just be another bag of "life." Supplies".

Thinking of this, Wright no longer hesitated. After finding the small paper knife from the corner of the table, he carefully cut along a slightly protruding cavity.

In addition to a simple linen garment for daily wear, the package contained several milky white flower petals with artificially painted special symbols, and a postcard written in the Zine Empire language.

There was nothing special about the clothes, but the petals had a special fragrance. After Wright fanned them with his hands and smelled the smell, he actually felt a kind of comfort and relaxation coming from the depths of his soul.

Wright quickly patted his forehead. In his memory, people in the wasteland were most afraid of lying down and relaxing, otherwise they would pay the price with their lives if they were not careful.

However, he didn't remember any information about the pattern on the petals. It was an inverted triangle drawn in the middle of the square along the midpoints of the three sides as the vertex, and in the center of the inverted triangle was drawn a smaller six-pointed star that fit the sides.

"Maybe it's the pattern of a certain religion? Or the coat of arms of a certain country or force? Forget it, I'll just take a look at this postcard."

As he spoke, Wright held the postcard with the Sugra "Mechanical Element" factory pattern printed on the back in front of his eyes and read the text on it:
  "Congratulations on passing the test. Your worship of 'Order' qualifies you to listen to prophecies. If you want to know more about this world, please go to No. C-404, Sogra Storm Block. We know that you are looking for something Magical power, the messenger of the sequential gods will give you the answer."

(End of this chapter)