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墨書 Inktalez
New Era of Humanity in the Apocalypse
Upon witnessing the scene, everyone was taken aback. The Purple Kappa was so bizarre; was its body composed of some kind of acid synthesis? According to the book "Origin of Life," the evolution of such a creature was certainly illogical. At this point, nothing mattered, and they no longer wished to stay in such a dangerous place.
The vehicle hovered and then accelerated away.
"Our next target is to eliminate the Buck Bug," Freyr muttered, instructing Alpha to lock onto that area.
Alpha's locking mechanism was quite effective, quickly identifying the target.
"These bugs are highly aggressive; they are extremely destructive to wood. They don't eat meat and are not herbivorous; they only consume wood. However, once they invaded inland, they destroyed nearly half of a city's buildings. They hollowed out the heart of the wood, causing it to rot. Even the foundations have faced threats from these bugs," Ross suddenly spoke up, seemingly reluctant to recall that painful memory.
Indeed, it had affected his life at that time. After his hometown was invaded, gradually most people left the city. Although in the end, the Human Alliance developed some local wealthy individuals who used their investments under the guise of charity to restore the appearance of their hometown.
The population now was less than one-third of what it used to be, as everyone moved to more civilized and safer regions. Those areas often faced invasions from the Zerg, with most impoverished residents living there becoming food for the bugs.
Thus, Ross's plan was to become a hunter and return home as soon as possible to eradicate all invading bugs. However, he no longer thought that way. If it meant sacrificing his role as a hunter for the safety of a village, then other cities would slowly fall victim to bombardment just like his hometown. Every migration season for the bugs brought a massive disaster for humanity.
Their numbers far exceeded those of humans, and not all humans possessed combat capabilities; only a few did. The burden of responsibility on those few was immense. A hint of sorrow flickered in Ross's eyes as his voice trembled slightly.
No one else seemed to notice anything amiss; he fell into deep thought after finishing his words. Even Freyr's voice could not drown out those profound memories.
His thoughts drifted back to the past—a sunny morning in a remote inland area in the Northwest, where even the military could not come to protect them. The residents were self-sufficient with relatively low taxes and high annual yields. Many factories in the city sourced materials from there, including fine timber that could be transformed into treasured exhibits after being sculpted by artists.
This region is abundant in agricultural and pastoral products, yet the people here still face many troubles. Although they live quite comfortably, they often have to travel long distances to obtain some daily necessities.
The journey is long, and even a round trip takes considerable time. First, logistics cannot cover such vast distances quickly, and even if they manage to arrive, it would take months to resolve the temporary issues faced by this city.
Thus, those who own vehicles in the city can enjoy a carefree life without having to work. They can trade by weight, and these individuals are essentially merchants who earn profits as middlemen.
However, this way of life did not last long before disaster struck. A vast swarm of insects descended upon the city like locusts. The border guards were completely unprepared, and even if they noticed something was amiss, their weapons were no more than outdated rifles. Against such a massive horde of destructive insects, their efforts were futile. These insects were irresistibly drawn to wood, but they also wreaked havoc on the crops in the fields.
In an instant, within just one night, the fields were left barren. Although there were no casualties, many people had signed various agreements due to this disaster. As a result, most of the city's residents found themselves bankrupt overnight—those who sought compensation were left with nothing. The locals were truly innocent; they had lived peacefully all their lives only to end up in such dire straits.
Ross's family was originally a local timber contractor that had inherited a treasure trove of high-quality century-old red pine. These woods could fetch high prices anywhere, making it a lucrative business with significant profits from local bidding.
Yet that very night, all the pine turned into worthless timber. Aside from its low value as firewood, the exorbitant compensation costs left his family in ruins. From then on, they became a laughingstock among the locals, living worse than ordinary families. It was from that moment that Ross developed a deep-seated hatred for insects; he would even crush cockroaches on the street out of sheer loathing.
He never imagined that without this experience, his future would lack any turning points. Later on, he became a hunter and spent over a decade honing his skills in the mountains, battling wolves and tigers barehanded—this was part of his past story.
In light of these sentiments, his hatred for insects grew immensely. No one knew about his past; not even friends would hear him share his story. Speaking too much would not only fail to garner sympathy but would also lead others to think he remained silent because he had a powerful family backing him—a wealthy merchant who once bought half a town with just one promise.
However, there were benefits to this situation as well. The vehicle sped toward another destination while conversations inside gradually became more engaging.
"I've been talking to you since earlier; didn’t you hear me? What are you daydreaming about? You know very well how destructive those insects are; do you know their weaknesses? We need to eliminate a hundred of them and bring back their corpses for reporting purposes. I don’t know what use those corpses will be; do we eat wood or something else?" Freyr's voice suddenly chimed in.
"Hahaha! Why are you even asking him? I already know! The corpse of a Buck Bug isn’t worth much, but its droppings are incredibly valuable—worth more than gold! One gram is worth double the price of gold!" Xiong Tai replied.
"If that's true, then let’s gather some and sell them!" Parker added from the side.
"Ah, that's something that needs to be processed. Do you think anyone would go and collect a pile of dung? After refining and processing, it can produce a rare metal called Mithril."
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