Chapter 16: How to play a sandbox game

Outside the abandoned sanatorium in the Wetland Park, stood rows of wooden stakes of varying thickness.

"I heard that freshly cut logs can crack and deform if not processed," said White, frowning as he looked at the haphazardly stacked logs against the wall, axe in hand.

Tomorrow asked, "How do you usually process them?"

White explained, "Typically, you dry the moisture out of the wood by heat treatment or let it air dry naturally after applying paint on both ends. You can also soak them in water, but it's more difficult to handle when you take them out... Let's hope it doesn't rain in the next few days."

After rough estimation, considering the labor of the previous day, they cut all these logs into 3 to 4-meter-long pieces, sharpened one end, and firmly embedded them in the soil to build the walls on the north and west sides of the sanatorium, with plenty to spare.

However, these logs were all unprocessed, and their durability was uncertain. A few more rains, and they might decay.

So, White and Tomorrow discussed and decided to take a different approach and use cement as the building material.

There was plenty of concrete waste on the barren land, even within the sanatorium.

Exposed to weathering, thermal expansion and contraction, wind, and rain, most of these concrete chunks peeled off the steel bars and turned into debris.

It wasn't reliable to expect much from these materials.

However, by mixing these materials with cement and using some steel bars salvaged from the ruins for reinforcement, they could construct simple concrete structures without much difficulty.

Although it was a shoddy construction, it was much better than using wood.

After all, they had no plans to build skyscrapers.

But in order to make use of these concrete waste materials, they first needed cement.

And to refine cement, they needed an adequate supply of coal and a furnace capable of withstanding temperatures of 1450 degrees Celsius.

Coincidentally, at this moment, Hurricane and Nighten returned.

Tomorrow noticed that Hurricane was holding a plastic bucket filled with evenly textured mud.

"There's a river to the east of lake that isn't marked on the map. It should have formed in the past two hundred years. We explored the entire shoreline from the east to the south, marking the areas where mutants are active and the suspected locations of their nests on the map."

As he spoke, Hurricane asked Nighten to take out the map, which had some markings made with charcoal.

With this map, it would be much safer for them to fetch water from the lake.

However, Tomorrow's attention was focused on the bucket in Hurricane's hand.

"What's in that bucket?"

"I found it by the river," Hurricane placed the bucket on the ground and continued, "I suddenly thought that we could use this stuff as a building material, so I brought it back."

"This stuff can't be used as a building material. It'll wash away with water," White crouched on the ground, picked up some mud, rubbed it between his thumb and index finger, and suddenly a look of excitement appeared on his face, "But this thing is still a good find. We have a place for our kiln."

"Kiln?" Nighten was taken aback.

"White and I discussed it. We plan to refine cement," Tomorrow explained.

Hurricane looked at him in surprise.

"Can we really do that?"

"Why not? Isn't this like a sandbox game?" White stood up excitedly, saying, "Just pour the mud here. You guys go get a few more buckets. Tomorrow, help me gather some branches. Hurry up."

"Alright." Tomorrow went off with full enthusiasm.

Hurricane and Nighten exchanged glances and followed, wearing bewildered expressions.

...

The small river wasn't deep, but there was plenty of mud nearby. It wasn't far from the sanatorium, so it didn't take much effort to gather a pile of it.

White surrounded the mud with a circle, digging two holes on the side as air vents. Then he placed the charcoal and dry leaves left from cooking in the mud circle and lit them with the matches left by the governor.

The fire quickly blazed up.

The surrounding mud slowly dried up.

White dug the fresh mud with his hands, drying it while building it up on the furnace walls. He continued until the furnace was as high as his thigh and then started packing thumb-thick sticks inside.

"What are you doing?" Tomorrow asked, curious. He had played survival games before but had never done such meticulous work in a game.

"We're making charcoal! Since we don't have coal, we have to use charcoal instead. If we want to refine cement, burning wood won't work. We have to start from the basics," White explained.

"How do you know all this?"

"I played a lot with it when I was a child."

"..."

Well, at least he had experience with it.

Who would have thought playing with this stuff would come in handy?

White stood up, clapped his hands, and started sealing the top of the kiln before the fire inside ignited the firewood. This step was crucial. Before the firewood was ignited, he needed to leave an opening at the top. Once the temperature inside the kiln was high enough, he would seal all the openings with mud, allowing the wood inside to smolder for a day. Tomorrow, they would have a kiln full of charcoal.

"If you seal all the openings, won't the fire inside go out?" Tomorrow asked.

"It won't go out immediately, and that's the effect we're looking for," White wiped off his sweat and patted Tomorrow's shoulder.

"Don't just stand there. Let's build a few more kilns and prepare for tomorrow's cement-making."

"Okay..."

Not only did Tomorrow join White's "construction team," but Hurricane and Nighten, after moving enough mud, were also drafted in.

The four gamers worked together and built four charcoal-making earth kilns. They also constructed a slightly larger one using the clay they dug from the riverbank.

According to White, they would try making some cement tomorrow.

He planned to make ash-lime cement, a method that didn't require much technological expertise and wasn't particularly robust but was definitely stronger than wood.

With ash-lime cement, he could attempt to build a cement kiln capable of withstanding higher temperatures.

White had made up his mind to search for information online once he logged off.

"Damn... Now I understand why the governor wants us to figure out a way to build a bathhouse," Nighten complained, smelling the sweat on his body. He already had a bit of a cleanliness obsession and felt like he was being suffocated by the stench.

This game was way too hardcore.

"Why don't we take a bath by the lakeside before logging off?" White suggested.

"I agree... But speaking of which, what about the governor? It's almost time to log off, but he hasn't returned," Hurricane asked.

"Maybe he's busy with something," White replied.

"In that case, how do we let him know about our afternoon's work?" Nighten quickly asked.

Hurricane glanced at the sanatorium behind them.

"We don't have to worry about that. I've already talked to that robot called Qi. She said it has been keeping track of our progress and will report it accurately to the governor."

Upon hearing this, Nighten finally felt relieved.

...

As gamers started logging out, taking off their helmets, and getting up to start a new day, Light Chu, who was still on Bette Street, carefully removed the plastic bucket beneath the water purifier.

Bette Street had a public well, and each household had its own collection system, including Light Chu.

Except for the occasional "glowing rain" that carried radioactive dust or visibly abnormal cloud formations, the rainwater on the wasteland was generally safe, even safer than in the pre-war era.

After all, it had been two hundred years since the decline of civilization, and industrial byproducts like acid rain and smog were rare to come by.

Of course, even so, it wasn't wise to drink rainwater directly.

By cutting a plastic water bottle in the middle, Light Chu placed a layer of dried pine needles and moss below the bottle opening and sprinkled crushed charcoal on top.

This way, a simple water filter was completed.

Light Chu didn't know if graphite could absorb radiation, but in the outskirts far from the nuclear bomb craters, radiation wasn't the primary threat to survival; diarrhea and dehydration were.

He still remembered the month when he first moved here, having to fetch water almost every other day. He didn't die at the hands of mutants, but he almost died from his own digestive system.

"Not even 10 liters... a drop in the bucket."

Looking at the bottles and jars in the room, Light Chu sighed.

He had saved up supplies for quite some time, but this player had only been here for a few days and had already used up most of them.

He needed to figure out some solutions.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

Light Chu got up and walked over to remove the latch, opening the door.

He saw Lil Fishie standing at the door, hands behind her back, her big round eyes fixed on him without saying a word.

Light Chu was about to greet her when he suddenly remembered the second young master of the Ye family and the arranged marriage they had talked about earlier. He couldn't help but feel awkward.

Let's take a step back.

If there were no Sanctuary 404, no system, no gamers, he would have to try to integrate into the local society... but he couldn't bring himself to do that!

He was too weak.

He needed at least two more years.

"What's the matter?" Light Chu said calmly.

Lil Fishie extended her arms hidden behind her back.

Only then did Light Chu notice that she was holding a small, dark cake, most likely made from cooked green wheat paste.

"My second brother asked me to bring it to you, and he told me to say that I made it for you," she recited word by word.

Light Chu struggled to unravel the subject-verb relationships in her sentence for a while before finally understanding that it was Tiger Yu who asked her to give him the cake.

"Thank you?"

"No need."

She stuffed the cake into Light Chu's hand and then swiftly ran away, leaving him alone in the wind.

...

In the real world.

Nanjing.

Taking off his helmet, Yan Feng rubbed his nose and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. He put them on.

Sitting on the edge of the bed for a while, he finally got up and went to the bathroom. After cleaning up, he put on his coat, went downstairs, hopped on his bicycle, and leisurely made his way to the college canteen.

It was half-past five in the morning.

Except for the students preparing for postgraduate exams, few people would come to the canteen at this time. The entire hall was empty, with only a few windows near the entrance open for business.

The canteen aunt busy behind the counter recognized this regular.

"Professor Yan, you're up so early today."

"Yeah, I went to bed early yesterday... Give me two steamed buns."

"The buns have just been steamed. You'll have to wait a bit."

"No rush."

Yan Feng took out his meal card and swiped it on the card reader.

The steam rising from the steamer was fragrant.

Yan Feng enjoyed this aroma; it made him feel comfortable. Unfortunately, it wasn't friendly to him, as someone who wore glasses.

He took off his glasses and wiped away the steam. This reminded him of his character in Wasteland OL.

His virtual self, although slightly weaker in initial strength, was much stronger than his real self.

And most importantly, his virtual self didn't have myopia.

At that moment, someone patted his shoulder.

Yan Feng put his glasses back on and turned around to see Professor Wang Haiyang.

"Do you have class in the morning?"

"No lecture. Couldn't sleep, so I got up."

"I thought physicists would work late."

"That's a misconception. I rarely bring work home," Yan Feng pushed his glasses and suddenly thought of something. He looked at Professor Wang and said, "By the way, there's something I want to consult you about."

Professor Wang raised an eyebrow.

"Is it about the topic from yesterday?"

Yan Feng nodded.

"Yeah."

"Wait a moment. First, let me ask, the novel you mentioned, it's not something you wrote yourself, is it?" Professor Wang Haiyang smiled and said, "Novels should be somewhat ambiguous. If they become exactly like reality, they're not interesting to read."

"It's actually not a novel, to be honest... it's a game."

"A game?"

"Yeah," Yan Feng took the buns from the canteen aunt, opened the plastic bag, and took a bite. "It's a post-apocalyptic themed game."

Professor Wang Haiyang became interested and asked, "Can you be more specific?"

"I don't know the specifics either. The game is currently in the closed beta phase, and I don't know much about it." Yan Feng paused for a moment. "You mentioned a highly developed society where even cars don't have power sources."

"No power sources?" Professor Wang Haiyang was stunned and then chuckled, "Are you suggesting using remote power supply technology to replace fixed power sources?"

"Is it very difficult?" Yan Feng asked.

"I'm not sure about the difficulty, but from my professional perspective... wireless power supply technology is not difficult. The challenge lies in how we can obtain clean and cheap energy, to the extent that even with energy loss of 90% or more, the cost remains within an acceptable range."

At this point, Professor Wang Haiyang paused and jokingly continued, "Besides the controlled nuclear fusion depicted in science fiction novels, I can't think of a better solution."

Nuclear fusion?

Yan Feng appeared thoughtful.

"I see..."

It seemed that the story background in Wasteland OL's setting was even more extensive than he had imagined.

There should be many aspects worth exploring in it.

"When do you plan to publish your novel? Can I take a look?" Professor Wang Haiyang joked, "Who knows, maybe I can give you some advice."

Yan Feng glanced at him.

"I told you it's not a novel."

"Alright, alright, if you say so."

Taking his breakfast from the canteen aunt, Professor Wang Haiyang patted his colleague's shoulder and smiled, "I have a lecture to teach, so I'll go first. Good luck!"