Conquering alien worlds starts from the game

Dairy farmer Chris bid farewell to his wife, parents, brothers and sisters before six o'clock in the morning, and went out on a tricycle to deliver the milk ordered by the guests to each household before breakfast time.

At around 07:30, Chris delivered the penultimate bucket of milk in the truck to the cook of a manor housekeeper, then turned the car around and rushed to Westham.

He continued to deliver milk to the Doyles, who ran a family hotel, for years before he married his wife.

Since milk powder with a lot of saccharin has become popular in the market, fresh milk that is easy to spoil is not as popular as when Chris was a child. Over the years, the business of Chris's family has gone from bad to worse. Sturm's last stable of households has clients.

Chris, who was bumping all the way on the country dirt road, arrived in Westham Town at about eight o'clock. He turned a corner and rode his tricycle onto the gravel-paved town road, which was smoother than the country dirt road. Singing a ditty, gradually approaching the town gate.

When there were still more than 200 meters away from the town gate, Chris stretched his neck in surprise.

Westham is relatively deserted during the day, and it will become lively after four o'clock in the afternoon. It is only early in the morning, why are there so many people crowded at the gate of the town?

"Could it be some kind of festival in Westham today? Haven't you heard of it?" Chris looked around strangely while riding.

When the distance got closer to about [-] meters, Chris suddenly felt something was wrong...

Those figures moving around the town gate...why are they so thin?

After stepping on for a short distance, Chris suddenly clenched the brake on the handlebar and stopped the tricycle in panic.

What kind of skinny person!Those figures dangling around the gate of the town are all skeletons!

"Ms. Gold Coin?!" Chris was dumbfounded, "What's going on—wait! Is Mrs. Doyle okay?!"

Many people’s sons-in-law and mother-in-law don’t get along, but the relationship between Chris and Mrs. Doyle is very close. Their family likes this kind lady very much. Even the family supports him to marry his wife. Chris’s family is the first to watch With Mrs. Doyle's character, I believe Mrs. Doyle's daughter must be a good girl.

Thinking of the family hotel very close to the town gate, thinking of the kind Mrs. Doyle, Chris held back his fear and ran without turning around.

He jumped out of the car and hid the tricycle, an important property belonging to the family, in the bushes on the side of the road. He had the courage to squat in the dense bushes alone, and mustered up the courage to move on.

The closer he was to the town gate, the more Chris' body trembled. When he was less than 20 meters away from the town gate, Chris could even feel his calf cramp...

Undead!Lots and lots of undead!

Not only at the gate of the town, but also everywhere in the streets of the town, it seems that there are undead active!

The reason why Chris has been able to persist until now without breaking down or turning his head and fleeing on the spot is because...these undead are also mixed with human figures.

A little further into the town gate, from the perspective of Chris, who is squatting in the grass under the tree, he can see some tricycles parked, which are bigger, stronger, and A tricycle with a steel body that seemed to have a lot of cargo on it.

There were a few living people standing beside the tricycle talking, and the undead walked around them, but they didn't attack the living people.

This kind of scene that many people see will have a fragmented view of the world... It gave Chris a glimmer of hope. If these undead don't attack the living, then maybe many Mrs. Ill will be fine.

Chris swallowed, and boldly moved a few steps closer.

An undead lazily leaning against the town gate suddenly turned its head in Chris's direction.

The moment he met those black eyes, Chris seemed to have heard the call of death.

He yelled desperately, turned around and ran frantically—this was just a reaction he imagined under the high stress. In fact, he was so frightened that he completely lost his voice, and he barely made an inhaling sound not much louder than a mosquito. Both legs seemed to be unconscious, and it was difficult to even move.

Qin Guan was not interested in cooking, so he asked me to take medicine and came out to chat.

The main content of the chat was naturally the territorial prestige issue that he was most concerned about at the end of the month - tomorrow will be the 31st, and the mayor competition that has lasted for more than half a month can finally see the results.

Qin Guan, who is also an Internet celebrity, this kind of topic will expose his uneasiness, now he can only chat with me about taking medicine besides talking about his wonderful pen - he now updates hundreds of videos on station B With [-] views, the gold owner's father waited in line for him to have a meal, not only earned the capital to fight for resources with that little boss, Brother La Hong, but also pulled a video studio out in reality. The character that he could show unscrupulously before Defects, ordinary people's little problems, etc., have to be collected now.

"Whether it's going to work or not, we've put in so much hard work, so it's up to fate." Giving me medicine is more open-minded, and instead of putting pressure on Qin Guan, he said in relief, "Anyway, Ji The reward that Tang offered this time is divided equally among all members, which means he is out of the game ahead of schedule. Now it depends on which of you and La Hong have done enough early work. Not to mention this, Huahua said that we can try the blood alliance mission after this mission is completed, you Think about what our blood alliance is called?"

"After thinking about it for a while, I will make a voting video later to see which name is liked more and which one is used more." Qin Guan said without much thought.

Since the launch of "Alien World", a series of videos released by Qin Guan have attracted a large number of cloud players for this game. Although these cloud players can't enter the game and can't shed their blood for the construction of Tarantan, at least they are online. The ID of vanilla pudding became popular... Qin Guan habitually used the name of the blood alliance to stir up a wave, and became fans of their blood alliance on the Internet.

Give me medicine and said happily: "It's okay, anyway, I prefer the names of the sand sculptures rather than the formal ones, and the sand sculpture netizens will definitely live up to my expectations—eh, is there someone?"

As he said that, he gave me the medicine and threw out an identification technique in a very professional manner.

"Civilian." Seeing the identification information, he was not interested in taking medicine for me, and continued to turn around and talk nonsense to Qin Guan.

Chris squatted in the bushes blankly for several minutes... didn't wait for the "call of death".

The skeleton that meets his "four eyes" seems to have no interest in him at all...

The country boy raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat dripping down his chin, and tentatively came out from the grass under the tree.

Several of the undead at the gate of the town looked towards him.

After looking at each other for a short time...these undead looked away again and continued to do their own things.

Chris stood alone on the road for a while, then walked towards the town gate.

When he trembled and panicked through the town gate, none of the undead paid any attention to him.

Some undead who happened to be in his way naturally turned sideways to make way for him, and continued to chat with his companion "KABAKABA".

Chris couldn't help but began to wonder... Are there really so many undead standing at the town gate of Westham?Could it be his hallucination?

Seeing the scene of the main road in the town, Chris denied his weird idea...

The wide streets are lined with fine-skinned, white-fleshed gentlemen who are completely different from their country folks.

These gentlemen were all disheveled and embarrassed, their hands and feet were bound by strange-looking white nooses, and they were thrown on the street crookedly and without dignity.

Chris' jaw dropped, and he forgot even his fear.

"Hi, who are you and what do you do?"

A man standing next to the tricycle saw Chris and walked over immediately.

Chris suddenly came back to his senses, and quickly bowed habitually: "Sir, I am, I am a nearby dairy farmer, here to deliver milk."

Rex looked the young man up and down...

Messy short brown hair, tanned rough skin, a humble and flattering smile that was forced into the bones of people of humble origin during the growth process; milk stains on clothes, traces of cow dung on trousers, talking to people The small movements of the hands that are nervous from time to time, the eyes that dare not meet people... He is indeed a countryman.

"Where's the milk you sent?" Rex asked again.

"Outside, there is only one bucket of milk. You know, people in the town prefer milk powder now." Chris said nervously.

Rex nodded: "Give me your milk, don't run around, and don't provoke the undead in the town."

"Yes, yes!" Chris responded again and again, and subconsciously looked up at Mrs. Doyle's house, which was very close to the town gate.

The Doyles were standing behind the windows on the second floor, looking at him anxiously.

A big rock fell in Chris's heart, and he hurriedly said loudly: "Mrs. Doyle, I'll bring the milk right away!"

His sudden high-pitched yelling made Rex, who was close at hand, so painful that his eardrums ached... He believed that this was indeed a country dairy farmer, and country people rarely paid attention to the volume when they spoke.

Chris ran out of the town like a gust of wind, and returned with a bucket of milk in a short while. This time he was no longer so afraid of the undead at the gate of the town, and bowed his head humbly when he made an excuse—these undead Hurting the Doyles would not seem so terrible to him.

"Chris, you scared me to death, how dare you come in alone?"

In the family hotel, Mrs. Doyle saw Chris, and nervously stepped forward to hold the young man's face: "You are too risky, child, listen to me, next time you encounter this kind of thing, you must run away immediately, your mother Can't lose you, and neither can my precious daughter."

Chris hugged Mrs. Doyle, and then embraced the taciturn Mr. Doyle, and said excitedly: "It's great that you are all right."

"Of course we're fine, those...those undead didn't do anything to us." Mrs. Doyle clutched her chest with lingering fear, "You've seen the situation outside, and those undead have objections to the people on this street... ...shop."

Chris let out an "ah" and couldn't help but said, "Are those, those people on the street, all businessmen who came to Westham?"

"Yes, there are also people from various shops." Mrs. Doyle pulled Chris to the window, pointed to an old man with gray hair and fat body on the street, "Look, that's the owner of Jenny's Tavern Thompson."

Mrs. Doyle had pointed someone out to Chris for a reason, of course.

Chris stuck it to the window, and through the not-so-pure glass, he saw clearly the sluggish old man in the crowd, with hatred and pleasure appearing on his simple and honest black face...

"This old bastard also has today!" Chris gritted his teeth.

For ordinary people living in Westham and farmers in the surrounding countryside of Westham, high-end clubs such as "Lover", "Elegant Dream", and the original "Gold Coast" are too far away, even if they are close There is no intersection at all even within close proximity.

Only low-level places such as taverns and strip dance halls can be connected with people like them.

Many years ago, when Chris was a child, there was a boy in his uncle’s family who was about the same age as Chris now. He brought his family to the town to "open their eyes".

It’s just that this boy doesn’t know that the tavern in Westham is only considered inferior, and it’s not a place for a farmer like him to plan and eat... He thought that the whoring money was enough to “open his eyes”, In fact, it was only enough to order a bottle of the cheapest corn rum at Jenny's Tavern, and tip the waitress for a chat.

After a night of partying at Jenny's Tavern, the boy from Uncle Chris's family was dumbfounded by the bill.

The owner of Jenny's Tavern broke one of the boy's hands, and let the thugs escort him home to ask for overnight money. Overpriced overnight wages and the cost of cousin Chris's arm treatment left both families shattered and had to sell several cows.

Everyone knows that the owner of Jenny's Tavern is just bullying them. Neither the sheriff nor the militia here can speak for them, let alone the gentlemen of Inadoli?

"I really want my uncle's family to see this scene." Chris stared at the embarrassed old man for many years, then turned to Mrs. Doyle and said, "Ma'am, these undead are going to kill these people." do what?"

"It's good if we know." Mrs. Doyle shook her head, thought of something, and sighed again, "Actually, I often think, if Westem can go back to more than 40 years ago, we It’s fine when I was a little girl. Although Westem’s life was not easy at that time, it will never be like it is now..."

After a pause, the old woman looked pained, and looked at the six men and women sitting on the sofa and the bed with pity, who dared not leave the room: "But now... it's already like this, if West Tom can't do business any more, that-that--ah!"

A thin woman with diseased scars on her face, her head bowed.

The other five poor people who shared the same fate were silent.

Being able to leave the place where they used to work alive does not mean that these people have other choices in life.

They have all been taking fattening agents for many years, and they have no physical strength to do the work that normal people can do... Even if it is a laundry job that a little girl can do, they can't do it. If their weak bodies are exposed to cold water for a long time, they will undoubtedly die.

Not to mention the traces of hidden diseases on their bodies that anyone with a discerning eye can tell at a glance... No matter where they go, they will definitely be treated with strange eyes.

To put it bluntly, gaining "freedom" is nothing more than lingering in a different place... If the family hotel run by Mrs. Doyle hadn't been willing to take them in and let them bring in the guests who were hard-won, they would have died long ago. I don't know where the street is.

Chris knew what kind of life the low-level prostitutes in Westham lived since he was a child. Hearing this, he sighed.

Yeah, even if, like Thompson at Jenny's Tavern, all the brothel owners were taken away by these strange undead, Westham couldn't be a normal town again.There are indeed some people here, who can only survive by this low trade.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense.

All of them know that the skin business is not a good thing, and they all hope that this industry will disappear from the bottom of their hearts, but they also know that if there is no such industry, people who have long lost the ability to survive can only face death.

At this time...a strange, unprecedented, and strong aroma suddenly floated in through the gap in the window.

It was Chris standing by the window who smelled it first, and he couldn't help sniffling after running around early in the morning.

The Doyle couple also smelled this fragrance, and the two old people were very confused... They have lived here for so many years, and they have never smelled this kind of smell.

The six skinny men and women also smelled it and swallowed their saliva at the same time.

Chris, whose stomach was rumbling, had a more sensitive nose than the others. He quickly judged that the scent was coming in from the window, and subconsciously stuck it to the window again.

It has to be attached to the glass and can only be seen by standing on tiptoes. From the angle of obliquely downward, Chris saw... in the open space behind those steel mountain bikes that he admired very much, two A large iron pot that can hold a person in it.

The water in the pot was heated by the firewood under the iron pot. A group of undead were busy beside the two big iron pots. From Chris’s perspective, one could see an undead holding a book-sized bag and pouring it into the pot. Something powdery, and another undead was stirring the pot with a shovel.

As the hot soup in the cauldron turned an alluring light golden color, the aroma that Chris could smell became more intense...

"It's the first time I've seen such a big bag of stewed chicken noodle soup with mushrooms." The player who poured out the soup complained to his companion, "The planning of this place has suddenly become lazy again, and the ingredients are not even made in small bags."

"Probably someone who is convenient for cooking tasks. Who has the patience to unpack small packages." The stirring player said indifferently.

"The potato chips are cut, let me!" A player brought out a dustpan full of potato chips from the temporarily requisitioned tavern.

"Hey, the knife is good, this slice is thicker than my finger."

"It's enough for me to get by, okay, we're not real cooks!"

"Xiao Liu, there are two baskets of green leafy vegetables in the kitchen of this tavern, have you taken out one and used it?"

"Carry it out!" Liu Meng, who has become the head chef among casual players (Rex, who likes to save trouble, just stares at her when he sends out cooking tasks), said quickly, "Go to the next building to see, there is Get all the ingredients you can use!"

"Good Le!"

The player who moved the supplies from the tricycle saw this and asked, "Then, can we add more to this cake?"

"Add it, our rewards are calculated on the basis of the pot, why not add it." Liu Meng waved his bone claws, "Who is that, and then wash the bag of potatoes!"

"Which car is the condensed broth powder in? Find it quickly!"

Stewed Chicken Noodles with Mushrooms, which was unsalable because it did not suit the tastes of the people in the southwestern provinces of China, was re-packaged by the manufacturer to remove the original packaging bag and replace it with a large package, and sold it together with the noodles to the expert group by the ton The buyer, and transferred to this world... finally got a fair treatment.

As the aroma of stewed chicken noodles mixed with shiitake mushrooms and concentrated broth powder drifted away, many people who were hiding behind the windows and peeking opened the windows...

Twenty minutes later, the stew was finished. Rex drove two tricycles out, each pulled a big pot, called Ossirian, Lika, and young Brook, and randomly selected a few players to release the meal sharing task, and then Personally lead the team to distribute food along the street.

The first to benefit were the twelve waitresses at Jenny's Tavern.

Next, it is the family hotel closest to the town gate.

Rex stepped forward and patted the door twice, and the previous dairy farmer volunteered to open the door, nodded and bowed to Rex: "Dear sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

Rex raised his hand and grabbed the young man's shoulder to prevent him from bowing: "How many people are in this building?"

"Uh..." Chris glanced at the guys on the street who were still hanging out without dignity from the corner of his eyes, and he didn't dare to lie, "Including me, there are nine people."

"Take nine bowls to get food, hurry up." Rex withdrew his hand, and pointed at the tricycle behind him pulling the big iron pot.

Chris froze on the spot.

"I said, hurry up." Rex frowned slightly, and his tone was a little harsh, with an imperative tone.

"Okay, okay." Chris got up quickly as soon as he was ordered, turned around and ran.

After a while, he really ran out with nine big bowls in his arms.

Rex stepped aside and said to Ossirian, "Come on, give him nine servings that won't cause any problems."

Only then did Ossirian understand why Rex called him...

Others don't necessarily know how much food these poor people with starved stomachs can eat without breaking their stomachs. He must know that he just ate three full meals provided by the undead yesterday. Uncomfortable, he knows best.

Rex was so caring and thoughtful about people who had the same experience as him... Ossirian nodded slightly, remembering this kindness, solemnly picked up the big steel spoon hanging by the pot, and earnestly helped the undead (Hands down.) Add food to the bowl passed over.

Respectfully and fearfully, Chris took the bowl full of food from the undead who was eager to help, and placed it firmly on the shoe cabinet next to the door, and waited for the two tricycles to leave before trembling. Close the door.

The Doyles and their six residents hiding on the second floor dared to emerge from the stairs.

"He, they... gave everyone food." Chris, who obviously didn't do anything but felt very tired, turned his head and said to everyone with a sleepwalking face.

The Doyles and the six residents all stood on the stairs blankly.