What did a mobile city look like? He Fang had only ever heard about it from Min Zhizhou’s mouth. Even though he knew that a mobile city was probably enormous and extravagant, the only image that came to his mind was a famous animated movie.
So, even though he had mentally prepared himself, when he finally saw the towering, cloud-piercing mobile city standing before him, he was still utterly shocked.
The colossal Hope City had been hollowed out, leaving only a skeletal frame behind. The black steel was incomparably sturdy, with countless intricate structures densely layered upon one another, blocking out the sky. Some parts of the city remained intact, and on those preserved sections, He Fang could see the weathered scars on Hope City’s outer walls.
Not only was it impossible to see the top when looking up, but He Fang also couldn’t determine how far it extended horizontally. He couldn’t even tell whether Hope City’s structure was square or circular.
It was simply too magnificent—so grand that words failed him. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of awe.
Times had changed. In his own small city, a high-rise building with just over twenty floors was already considered impressive. But only now, standing before Hope City, did He Fang truly understand what it meant for something to be towering.
For the first time, he had a clear realization—this was a real city capable of housing hundreds of thousands of people. And yet, this massive city could actually move. How did something so enormous manage to stay mobile? He Fang couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Perhaps this was just part of the game’s official setting—there was no need for a strict scientific explanation, just like in his own city, where the fields were always full of thriving crops, and there was never any concern about running out of meat.
“This is Hope City—our pride.” The fake gatekeeper introduced their home with great pride despite its current dilapidated state. “For generations, our ancestors have kept this city running. Even if all that remains now is its skeletal frame, to us, it is still the culmination of our labor and wisdom.”
“Yes… It’s magnificent. And beautiful,” He Fang murmured, his praise heartfelt. This city was entirely different from his own. It was a completely new kind of urban structure, one that had emerged as the pinnacle of technology in this post-apocalyptic world.
Perhaps because of the compliment, the fake gatekeeper looked pleased. “Feel free to look around. I hope our Hope City leaves a good impression on you, mercenary.”
With that, the fake gatekeeper left, returning to his duty of guarding the city.
He Fang tilted his head back, staring up at the towering structure. His mind was in turmoil. Conditioned by the society he came from, he had always viewed urban development as something that expanded horizontally. It had never once occurred to him that a city could grow vertically.
“Can my city also consider developing like this?” He Fang unconsciously voiced his thoughts aloud. “For example, directly building sky gardens or something?”
The construction costs in his city weren’t particularly high. The truly expensive parts were all on open land, probably because “Ruins Without Restart” aimed to control excessive player expansion while encouraging more comprehensive infrastructure development, making the financial requirements for open land especially steep.
But if he could bring Hope City’s technology back to his own city, wouldn’t it lead to tremendous growth in a short period?
“Mobile cities are built so vast to accommodate more people while maintaining mobility, but…” Min Zhizhou heard He Fang’s words and disagreed. “If given a choice, I don’t think people would actually like such a design.”
“Hm?” He Fang was taken aback. He turned to look at Min Zhizhou, confused. “I think it’s a great design. It looks really cool, too.”
Min Zhizhou let out a helpless, bitter smile. “Vice Captain, maybe if you take a look inside, you’ll understand what I mean.”
Although He Fang was puzzled, he indeed needed to assess the pros and cons of such a city before considering whether to implement it.
“How do we get in?” He Fang hadn’t spotted an entrance—or rather, every part of this colossal Hope City seemed like an entrance. Its outer shell was gone, leaving only its skeletal frame exposed to the elements, making it accessible from all directions.
Min Zhizhou scanned their surroundings and gestured toward a direction. “This way.”
Following Min Zhizhou, He Fang noticed many people working on the surrounding farmland. As the workers spotted them, they would straighten up. Upon meeting their gaze, they would offer friendly smiles—relaxed and open-minded.
Young children dashed past He Fang, their laughter filling the air as they ran, chased each other, and played joyfully. It was an idyllic pastoral scene.
A place like this was truly refreshing.
Yet, who would have guessed that in this very city, every single person was simply waiting for death?
He Fang opened the simplified display of all NPC data in the system. Countless condensed attribute panels appeared before his eyes, floating above each NPC’s head. As he observed their stats, he immediately noticed a stark contrast between them and the NPCs in his own city—an almost insurmountable difference. The attributes of every person in this city weren’t even half of what Min Zhizhou had at his peak.
Seeing so many attribute values at once, a thought suddenly struck He Fang. Perhaps Min Zhizhou’s low stats weren’t because he was an Information NPC but rather because all “wild NPCs” had extremely low stats.
However, the sheer number of people overwhelmed him. The constant flood of pop-up panels nearly filled his entire field of vision, making him dizzy.
These underpowered NPCs made He Fang hesitant. Could they really fulfill the needs of his city-building plan? If he had to first improve the state of all the residents, the initial investment would be enormous. Would that investment ever pay off?
“Mobile cities have fixed entry points where designated personnel conduct inspections,” Min Zhizhou explained as he led the way. “Even regular mercenaries aren’t allowed to roam freely around the outskirts. A mobile city is essentially an enormous, highly intricate machine. While a single issue won’t cripple the entire system, localized malfunctions can lead to resource waste. That’s why external visitors have very restricted movement. Strolling casually along the city’s edge like this is usually not allowed.”
“A city this massive must move very slowly, right?” Guo Miaofeng couldn’t help but ask.
Chong Ying, who had been silently observing, suddenly spoke up. “Wouldn’t it be a huge waste of ammunition to destroy a city like this? How big is it? Is it bomb-resistant?”
“It does move slowly, but as long as it stays ahead of Nightmare Beasts and Nightmare Beast Seeds, that’s enough,” Min Zhizhou answered Guo Miaofeng’s question but hesitated before addressing Chong Ying’s. After a brief pause, he finally added, “The outer shell of a true mobile city is incredibly tough. Bombs barely leave a mark on its walls.”
Upon hearing this, Chong Ying’s expression visibly darkened. As they walked, he kept running his hand along Hope City’s skeletal framework, assessing its material quality and hardness, contemplating how to improve the weapons they currently had at their disposal.
“My city doesn’t need to consider mobility. With our current technology, settling in one place isn’t a challenge. But the land here… the yield doesn’t seem very good.”
He Fang had also noticed that despite the surrounding fields showing signs of prosperity, they had yet to bear much fruit. This anomaly caught his attention—apparently, only his own city had the ability to regenerate land so rapidly.
“The land outside of cities doesn’t just sprout new crops overnight after being tilled,” Min Zhizhou remarked. He had always found He Fang’s city to be unbelievably miraculous. Only after returning to the post-apocalyptic world did he finally convince himself that it wasn’t him who had the problem.
“Yeah, I get it.” He Fang understood that free land would never compare to the land he had paid to develop. Even though he had anticipated some disparity, the actual difference still left him somewhat disappointed.
Even if his city could provide a substantial amount of resources, any development here would be a long-term loss, at least initially. The growth rate would be painfully slow. He Fang even worried that investing in a new city might end up dragging his old city down.
“This is the entrance,” Min Zhizhou finally said as he located the entry point to Hope City. But when He Fang laid eyes on it, he froze.
“Are you serious?” He Fang asked incredulously.
“Yes, I’m very serious,” Min Zhizhou affirmed with certainty.
What stood before He Fang was a single, narrow door—something that looked no different from the entrance to a small residential unit in an ordinary neighborhood. It was barely wide enough for one or two people to pass through at a time. Compared to this, the gaping breaches in the skeletal remains of the city walls seemed like much more reasonable entry points.
“A door this small—what about fire safety? If a fire breaks out, wouldn’t everyone inside just get roasted alive?” He Fang was utterly shocked. If an actual disaster occurred, wouldn’t that mean the entire city’s population was doomed?
“The city actually has many doors, but most of the time, they remain closed for easier management. This is the main entrance—it’s the designated entry point for all external visitors. Within this passage, a full-body inspection is conducted, allowing us to address any issues immediately,” Min Zhizhou explained as he slipped through the entrance. He Fang followed closely behind.
Upon entering Hope City, He Fang was met with a completely open and transparent interior. However, judging by the worn-down traces everywhere, this was no longer the intact inner structure of a normal city—it was the remnants of a place that had already been dismantled.
Countless corridors stretched out before him, forming a labyrinth of dense, crisscrossing pathways. Walls boxed everything in from all directions. Just the thought of navigating through such a space made He Fang feel a suffocating psychological pressure as if he were trapped.
As they walked deeper inside, He Fang noticed door frames appearing every few meters. Since much of the structure had been dismantled, he could clearly see what lay beyond them.
Inside each frame was essentially a miniature version of a university dormitory—a narrow room crammed with eight beds. The bunks were packed so tightly together that it reminded He Fang of train compartments in the real world. There was just enough space for sleeping, with barely any room left for personal belongings.
Rooms like this filled every corner of the floor. If not for the fact that he was merely a character model, He Fang imagined his feet would already be aching from all the walking—this place was massive. Floor after floor spiraled upward like the shell of a snail, densely packed with people. The sheer intensity of this kind of living arrangement sent chills down his spine.
At the center of the snail-shell-like structure, Min Zhizhou spoke, “These central areas are designated for work. Every morning, after waking up, people come here to do their jobs.”
Although it was once a workplace, its value had likely made it a prime target for scavengers. Now, only emptiness remained—most of the equipment had probably been taken away by other mobile cities that had come to consume Hope City. Even so, what He Fang saw was already an extremely limited space.
“How do people usually wash up?” He Fang asked.
“There are designated places for it. Although water must be conserved, maintaining basic hygiene is crucial. Otherwise, diseases could spread. Losing a large number of people to an epidemic would be a devastating loss,” Min Zhizhou explained as he guided He Fang to the upper levels.
Hope City stretched high into the clouds, yet the living spaces for its inhabitants were suffocatingly small. As He Fang came across a small room—one that had remained intact due to its remote location—he suddenly understood why Min Zhizhou had dismissed his idea of building aerial structures in his own city.
A hallway so narrow it only allowed a single person to pass. Cramped, restrictive living quarters. The moment He Fang stepped into the tiny space, his gaze swept over the numerous beds, and a realization dawned on him—this wasn’t a home. This was a prison.
No, even prisons had windows where sunlight could seep through. But here? There was nothing.
He Fang sat down on one of the beds, glancing around. The bunk was so confined that even sitting up was impossible. The ceiling pressed down close, illuminated only by a dim, flickering light. Eight people lived in this space. He Fang suddenly thought that if he were in their place, he might have simply refused to go on living.
“Even in such a tiny space, for the lowest-class residents of a mobile city, this is the only place they can truly relax. After an exhausting day, lying down on this bed feels incomparable,” Min Zhizhou said. “But every night, they must leave the door open while they sleep. The room is too small—without ventilation, they could suffocate to death.”
He Fang listened to Min Zhizhou’s words and slowly lifted his gaze to him.
Was Min Zhizhou born in a place like this?
Min Zhizhou seemed to understand the silent question in He Fang’s eyes and shook his head. “My parents lived higher up. They were still part of the lower class, but their contributions were significant enough to grant them the right to equip me with my first set of gear.”
He Fang recalled the first time he met Min Zhizhou—how he had removed his armor and sat in a pile of garbage under the sun, entirely unbothered by the harsh rays peeling layers of skin from his body.
As a child, he never saw the sun. As an adult and working as a mercenary, he was forced to wear armor at all times.
He had never truly felt the warmth of sunlight on his skin. That was why, in He Fang’s city, he reveled in the freedom to bask under the sun without restraint. He refused to use any sun protection, allowing the sun to leave its mark on his flesh. Over time, the once-pale man had turned into someone with a healthy, sun-kissed complexion.
“What I mean is different from what you’re thinking.” He Fang stepped out of the room’s narrow shadows and said, “I prioritize my residents’ happiness, so I will make sure to build homes with plenty of natural light.”
Min Zhizhou was momentarily stunned before a slow smile crept onto his face. “Alright… Maybe I was overthinking it.”
The higher they climbed in Hope City, the more open the layouts became. The stark divide in social hierarchy was evident—He Fang even discovered remnants of entertainment facilities in some upper-level rooms. In certain rooms, he found makeshift beds made from torn fabric scraps spread out directly on the ground. Various objects were scattered around, likely fashioned by the elderly, sick, or disabled who had been left behind.
“These fabrics must have been discarded by the upper-class residents when they left,” Min Zhizhou said, pointing to the tattered cloth. “Right now, the lower levels of Hope City are almost completely abandoned. Since there’s no restriction on where they can live anymore, they choose to move to the upper floors—the place they once longed for. A final, fleeting dream before the end.”
The upper floors were exposed to the elements, offering little protection from wind and rain. Yet, those who remained still clung to the idea of living there, even when there was nothing left.
He Fang felt a heavy weight in his chest. What lay before him was the grotesque reality of a society twisted by rigid hierarchy. The higher the level, the more was taken away, leaving only the most valuable resources in the hands of those who had long since left. The lower classes, who had toiled their entire lives, never even had a chance to touch them.
“Do you know what kind of lives the upper-class people lived?” He Fang asked Min Zhizhou.
“I don’t know,” Min Zhizhou replied with a bitter smile. They had reached the highest point of Hope City, now a ruin. Yet, despite its decay, traces of past luxury were still visible in the remnants of its decorations. He gazed around before continuing, “But now… I think I can imagine it.”
It was probably a life much like the one He Fang’s citizens enjoyed in his city.
Although Hope City was a breathtaking sight, anything of real value had long been taken away.
Even so, He Fang could still see the traces of its former glory.
“Hierarchy,” Chong Ying muttered, seated in the middle of the grand hall. He had finally found the perfect word to describe what he was seeing. “Was there a strong social hierarchy in Hope City?”
Guo Miaofeng seemed puzzled. “Why does hierarchy even exist? Shouldn’t everyone just focus on their own duties and responsibilities? Weren’t they all companions, fleeing together?”
Min Zhizhou’s expression grew complicated as he looked at the two, who clearly held strong opinions against hierarchy. He asked, “Do you two see your city lord as equal to yourselves?”
“Of course not,” Chong Ying and Guo Miaofeng answered in unison.
He Fang also nodded. “Of course not.”
Min Zhizhou was surprised. He could understand why the others might revere He Fang as a godlike figure, but he had never considered how He Fang viewed himself.
Curious, he asked, “Vice-Captain, how do you see your role in the city?”
“I’m just a worker, working for the city!” He Fang answered with absolute self-awareness.
Every day, he worried about how to build, develop, and expand the city, how to improve the residents’ happiness and wealth, and how to increase revenue. In reality, a city lord would naturally have authority and privileges, but this was a game!
What kind of special privileges could a player get? At most, NPCs would shower him with compliments—but not a single coin.
Like Lu Hu.
To this day, he hadn’t managed to squeeze a single penny out of Lu Hu’s pocket.
Min Zhizhou was stunned. He immediately turned to Chong Ying and Guo Miaofeng for their reactions.
At this moment, Chong Ying tilted his head and looked away while Guo Miaofeng made no effort to hide his awkwardness.
Min Zhizhou simply couldn’t understand—why did the entire city treat their lord as their sky, their earth, their god, yet their so-called god believed himself to be nothing more than a worker?
Min Zhizhou was baffled. Min Zhizhou was utterly shocked.
Meanwhile, far away on the aircraft, Zhu Yan couldn’t help but rub his temples.
The situation was frustrating. They all wanted to devote themselves entirely to their creator, but reality didn’t allow for it. After all, everything they had now was given to them by their creator. If they tried to return it, wouldn’t that be like “offering flowers to the Buddha”—giving back what was originally his?
Borrowing the creator’s flowers to offer to the creator—wasn’t that just shameless?
Not to mention, their creator still hadn’t fully grasped the situation.
To prevent Min Zhizhou, who was equally clueless, from revealing too much information, Zhu Yan took the initiative to speak. “City Lord, perhaps we should check the control room. Since there was some form of communication in this city, there must have been devices for transmitting information. At the very least, something should still be left behind in Hope City.”
“It’s probably gone by now, right?” He Fang asked. “You’ve been watching the recordings too. You saw how the entire place was stripped clean by other cities. Anything remotely useful was taken.”
Hope City had been scavenged as thoroughly as if locusts had swept through, leaving not a single scrap behind.
“There must be something left for tracking purposes. Otherwise, how would other cities have known where to find Hope City?” Zhu Yan reasoned as he thought aloud. “Since the city lord fled, he couldn’t be certain that other cities would accept him. For the sake of his future survival, he would have taken Hope City’s remaining resources with him. The leftover ruins would then serve as an offering to other cities—an act of flattery to gain favor.”
Min Zhizhou shook his head. “Cities place a high value on bloodlines now. Only those with superior lineage receive education, inherit authority, and rule. The city lord of Hope City had a recognized bloodline. Even if he abandoned his city and ran away, he still had that bloodline—he remained an upper-class citizen.”
“Bloodline?” Chong Ying suddenly thought of something inexplicable and then turned to look at He Fang. Right now, He Fang was just a model, but their Creator’s real body should also have a bloodline. If it was the Creator’s bloodline… Chong Ying’s mind began to wander.
Zhu Yan spoke slowly, “In chaotic situations, using bloodline rhetoric is actually a rather wise choice.”
Min Zhizhou frowned. “Wise? Are you saying some people are born inferior? That doesn’t sound like something a citizen of the City Lord’s domain would say.”
“In times of chaos, using bloodline as a method of maintaining stability is an option. As long as the importance of bloodline is ingrained from birth, it becomes easier to solidify rule and stabilize the people’s hearts.” Zhu Yan understood why such things happened. If just anyone could create a mobile city like the City Lord’s, who could predict the terrifying consequences within?
Min Zhizhou gritted his teeth and stopped speaking. He couldn’t admit it, and he didn’t want to. If he admitted it, wouldn’t that mean acknowledging that he himself was of inferior blood?
Zhu Yan seemed to have seen through Min Zhizhou’s thoughts and chose not to press further. Instead, he said, “City Lord, can you keep searching?”
“Zhu Yan, is it possible that there’s nothing at all? That the previous City Lord of Hope City set no coordinates before leaving?” He Fang proposed an alternative possibility.
“It’s possible, but we should still search. If there’s something still continuously emitting a signal that other cities can pick up, we can use it!” Zhu Yan’s tone carried a rare trace of excitement. “As long as the signal is still transmitting, I can directly pinpoint the location of all other cities for you, City Lord!”
Hearing Zhu Yan’s firm and almost domineering tone, He Fang suddenly felt a surge of emotion. He suddenly remembered—since cities traded with one another, they could use Hope City’s signal as their own. Under the pretense of ‘further development’ or ‘acquiring resources and opportunities’, they could restart Hope City. Meanwhile, his own city could rightfully retreat into the shadows.
“I… I’ll go ask around. Maybe someone here knows something.” He Fang himself wasn’t sure what exactly they were looking for, but at that moment, he was filled with newfound hope.
“Why not ask them?” Chong Ying’s voice came from a distance. He Fang suddenly realized that at some point, Chong Ying had disappeared. Now, he was walking back from not far away—with three frail, almost skeletal children in his grasp.
He Fang’s eyes widened. “Why are you grabbing those kids?!”
“They’ve been following us this whole time!” Chong Ying immediately complained to He Fang with a pitiful expression. “At first, there were about ten of them, but in the end, only these three remained.”
The children caught by Chong Ying consisted of two older ones and a younger girl. The little one was a dazed-looking girl. All three were severely malnourished—skinny to the bone, their faces waxy yellow, their hair sparse, and their heads disproportionately large due to their frail bodies. Their skeletal frames made their large heads look like props from a horror movie.
“Why were you following us…?” He Fang had barely started his question when the oldest boy cut him off.
“You’re mercenaries, aren’t you?! You must be really powerful mercenaries! Your armor looks incredibly strong—the strongest we’ve ever seen!” The oldest boy stared intently at Min Zhizhou in the distance.
“…” This is also the strongest armor I’ve ever seen, Min Zhizhou thought to himself.
Completely ignored, He Fang: “…”
“I have something to negotiate with you!” The boy tried his best to speak in a firm, commanding tone.
Min Zhizhou glanced at He Fang, then reached out and placed his hand on the boy’s head, turning it so he faced He Fang. Slowly, he said, “If you have something to discuss, talk to our vice-captain.”
He Fang looked into the boy’s oversized eyes embedded in his skull-like face. The extreme sense of disharmony was unsettling, making He Fang feel strangely uncomfortable. His gaze drifted away.
“Can you make decisions?” The boy seemed doubtful of He Fang’s authority, clearly finding the tall, dark-skinned Min Zhizhou more convincing.
“Yes.” He Fang suddenly felt like a very unconvincing player.
“We want to join your mercenary group!” The frail boy pounded his tiny hand against his chest. “We can be your scouting team, clean and maintain your armor, and do any odd jobs! The three of us—together—we only need as much food as one adult per day!”
He Fang’s eyes widened. “?”
“We might not be able to do much now, but we’ll give you our entire future in advance! We are at your service—even if, in the most desperate times, you have to eat us, that’s fine. We will follow you through life and death!” The child’s eyes were filled with unwavering determination. Then, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head heavily to the ground. “Please take us with you!”
His tone made it clear—he had already prepared himself for a life-or-death struggle. He Fang glanced at the child’s status panel. The oldest boy was actually ten years old, yet he looked no older than five—completely stunted from malnutrition.
“You don’t want to stay here with your loved ones and…” wait for death? He Fang didn’t finish his sentence.
“No!” the boy shouted firmly. “We don’t want to die with everyone else! We want to live!”
A child at this age already understands life and death. The apocalypse had forced everyone to shed their innocence and grow up far too soon.
He Fang had noticed that among the ten thousand people who stayed behind, many were children. On the surface, they seemed carefree, but in reality, they were at the very limits of survival. He also saw younger children, too young to understand, squatting in the corners, secretly eating wild grass, and even…
He Fang stood up and walked to the edge of Hope City. From this vantage point, he could clearly see a graveyard on the outskirts. It was filled with countless nameless tombstones. Within the freshly dug graves, many had already lain down, waiting for the inevitable.
Around the graves, there were many freshly dug pits, and even now, people were still digging. These were prepared for those who would soon succumb to hunger or illness, ensuring they could be buried at any time.
“Vice-Captain, we won’t be a burden. We can take care of everything for you!” The boy hugged the silent little girl beside him and looked up. “My sister is very pretty. My mother was beautiful. If my sister can grow up, she’ll be beautiful too. She’s just too young now… but if she gets a little older, a bit more… she will be.”
He Fang’s eyes widened, filled with disbelief.
He thought he had misheard, but the older boy reached out and pushed his sister’s thin, sparse hair back, revealing a delicate yet malnourished face. The meaning behind his actions was obvious. Then, he gently nudged his frail little sister forward.
The girl, still unsteady on her feet, staggered toward He Fang. Standing beside him, she tilted her head up.
On her childish face, she tried to imitate a seductive smile like an adult’s—but it was awkward and unnatural. She reached out, timidly taking hold of He Fang’s finger and lifting her face as if attempting to kiss his fingertip.
Chong Ying instantly flew into a rage. “What the hell? My brother is a thousand times prettier than your sister, and you dare use your sister to provoke me?!”
“Brother?” The boy seemed to grasp something. He suddenly stepped forward. “I can do it too. Anything. I can take hits. I can endure anything!”
The moment the child touched him, He Fang instinctively yanked his hand away. Chong Ying was so furious that he looked ready to charge forward, but Guo Miaofeng suddenly held him back. “Chong Ying, calm down. Don’t get too worked up.”
He Fang stared at the boy with an indescribable expression, his mind overwhelmed. Is this game “Ruins Without Restart” turning into an R-18 version? This young?! Do the developers really think they won’t get torn apart by the internet for writing lines like this?
“I need you to help me with something.” He Fang stepped away from the little girl, unwilling to look into her eyes—eyes that clearly had no idea what she was doing. “I need to know if there’s anything inside Hope City that’s still emitting a tracking signal.”
“What?” The boy froze, seeming unable to comprehend.
“Why is it that other mobile cities can find this place so easily? In such a vast land, they managed to pinpoint this exact location.” He Fang pointed downward, indicating their current position. “If you can provide me with an accurate lead, I might consider giving you a reward.”
“I don’t need a reward! I just want you to take us with you!” The boy’s eyes were filled with a desperate will to survive.
“Then that depends on whether you can help me find what I’m looking for.” He Fang spoke slowly.
His emotions were complicated.
There were simply too many people left behind—far too many children as well. Just as Zhao Wei had said, those who remained were the ones who had not been chosen, the ones left here to die.
Ten thousand NPCs with no advantages whatsoever. He Fang couldn’t even find a reason to take them in. The system displayed an endless sea of gray notifications—no one worth nurturing. Their growth potential was abysmally low.
But there was something else that weighed on his mind.
Every time he expanded his city and increased its capacity, the system would automatically generate an equivalent number of NPCs to fill the space. These newly created NPCs had good stats, strong abilities, and immediately contributed tax revenue to the city. More importantly, there was a high probability of generating exceptional NPCs like Yuan Zhiran, each possessing unique talents.
However, all of this was based on land that he had personally developed.
He couldn’t be sure whether establishing a city in this area—one he hadn’t developed—would trigger the same effect. Would the number of NPCs increase as usual? If not, then drawing NPCs from his own city might deplete his population without the system replenishing them.
Despite all this uncertainty, He Fang held great expectations for Hope City. After all…
The city’s skeletal structure was too well preserved.
Even though all usable resources had been stripped away, its framework remained incredibly intact.
He Fang speculated that this was because Hope City was too close to the Nightmare Beast Forest. Since there was already some level of life here, any infestation by Nightmare Beast seeds would result in mass casualties.
Other mobile cities avoided the Nightmare Beast Forest out of fear, leaving only the more desperate ones willing to approach. However, these struggling mobile cities were already barely surviving, let alone having the capability to dismantle and transport such a massive framework.
Because of its unique geographical location, Hope City had managed to retain its perfect skeletal structure. If He Fang were to rebuild here, he would save an enormous amount of resources. He could fill the city directly with new structures, reducing overall costs. Moreover, the surrounding land was lush with water and vegetation, and the massive ravine bordering the Nightmare Beast Forest would act as a natural defense for his city. The geographical conditions were practically tailor-made for settlement.
How could he not be tempted?
He Fang was practically drooling over the opportunity!
But the problem was… the more than ten thousand low-quality NPCs.
After witnessing their pitiful state, He Fang wasn’t heartless—he did have compassion. However, if they couldn’t create any value, an imbalance in the system could destabilize his city’s current structure.
Why should these low-quality NPCs, who contributed nothing, receive the same treatment as others who worked hard and paid taxes? If he couldn’t manage this balance properly, it might negatively impact his city.
He Fang knew he had to discuss this with Lu Hu.
For now, he decided to first locate the “signal transmitter” and have Zhu Yan analyze whether it could help pinpoint the locations of other cities. Then, he would return to his own city and discuss with his team whether Hope City was worth developing and how to handle the issue of these low-value NPCs.
Following the children, He Fang watched as the eldest boy led the way, holding the hands of his younger siblings. His frail back looked frighteningly thin, yet he straightened his posture as much as possible as if carrying the responsibility of protecting the two younger ones. He walked forward with a determined effort, trying to appear stronger.
“The majority of useful things have already been taken away—this is the last valuable item left.” The child walked slowly as if every step drained his energy. But despite his exhaustion, he spoke loudly as if trying to prove his worth. “After the city’s destruction, I searched every corner of Hope City. Among those who remain, I am the one who knows this city best. Anyone who has ever come here—I was the one who led them!”
He Fang frowned.
Judging by the child’s words, had he been desperately proving his value to anyone who would listen, only to be discarded after being used up?
The child led them to the city’s middle level.
The middle level was vast, and He Fang hadn’t explored it fully. It was clear that Min Zhizhou hadn’t either.
After winding through corridors and turning corners, they arrived at what appeared to have once been a control room in the heart of the city. There, for the first time, He Fang saw something in this massive, abandoned city that was still functional.
A faint blue glow emanated from an electrical device encased within a solid, well-designed glass cover.
“Zhu Yan,” He Fang called.
“This is it,” Zhu Yan confirmed. “I’ve already detected that this device is continuously transmitting signals to the outside world.”
“This is probably the only working piece of equipment left in Hope City,” Min Zhizhou remarked.
“What should we do? Should we take it?” Chong Ying drew his weapon, preparing to retrieve the device.
“You can’t take this!” The child suddenly stepped in front of He Fang and the others, spreading his arms protectively in front of the transmitter. “There might still be other mobile cities coming here! Maybe more people can be taken away!”
“But hasn’t it been a long time since anyone last came?” Min Zhizhou said from the side, his voice uncharacteristically cold. “Everything worth taking has already been taken. Bringing anything else back wouldn’t be worth the effort.”
The child seemed to have been struck at his sore spot. He clenched his teeth but stubbornly refused to step aside.
Through the communicator, Zhu Yan spoke to them, “We’re not sure if removing the locator directly will affect the signal transmission. It’s best if we can study it on-site. I think I should go in person.”
Listening to Zhu Yan, He Fang unconsciously looked around.
A perfect city framework, a group of barely usable NPCs, and the locator he desperately needed.
“I really want Hope City,” He Fang murmured, quietly voicing his inner thoughts.
Everyone on He Fang’s team heard him. No one would reject his desires. If He Fang wanted it, they would offer Hope City to their beloved Creator with both hands.
“Xuanxuan, what are you doing here?”
Suddenly, several adults appeared. Noticing the situation, they immediately positioned themselves protectively between the two sides. Guo Miaofeng instinctively used his tall frame to half-block He Fang.
“I want them to take us with them, Auntie. I want to go with them!” The eldest child stubbornly lifted his head, speaking to the middle-aged woman who had pulled him into an embrace.
The woman’s expression froze briefly. She then looked up at He Fang and the others, her gaze settling on Guo Miaofeng at the front. A hint of hope flickered in her eyes. “Mercenaries, are you really willing to take these children with you?”
Guo Miaofeng’s face stiffened. His emotional intelligence wasn’t high enough to come up with a suitable response for the moment, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless.
The woman let out a helpless laugh, her face filled with sorrow. Clearly, she already knew the answer. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “It’s alright. We’re just asking. Taking Xuanxuan with you would be difficult, wouldn’t it?”
Guo Miaofeng was visibly awkward. He had never been good at lying. When no one else spoke up, he had no choice but to step in.
Scratching his head awkwardly, he glanced at He Fang, who was still momentarily dazed. The words He Fang had just said about wanting Hope City flashed through his mind, and he blurted out, “Difficult? Not at all. It’s just a kid. Even if it’s all ten thousand of them, saving them wouldn’t be a problem.”
At that moment, the people standing beside the child were stunned.
For a brief moment, expressions of shock, anticipation, and hope flickered across the faces of the frail, weak NPCs with their low vitality. But in the blink of an eye, those expressions turned into anger, humiliation, and an abrupt surge of resentment.
“Get out!”
The residents of Hope City, who had just been speaking gently and with friendly smiles, suddenly changed their expressions. Their voices were filled with venom as they roared, “Get out! You despicable mercenaries, get out of our city!”
He Fang was still deep in thought when he suddenly met the furious, hateful gazes of the residents, catching him completely off guard.
“What’s going on?” He Fang vaguely recalled something Guo Miaofeng had just said.
Guo Miaofeng was equally dumbfounded. How had one sentence caused this reaction?
Their Creator wanted Hope City.
They would offer Hope City to their Creator. And these people were just another part of what needed to be conquered. If they obediently submitted to their Creator, everything would go smoothly.
No one wanted to die.
They could grant these people a chance to live. When Guo Miaofeng spoke those words, he hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with them.
But now, the situation had clearly backfired. Every resident was seething with rage.
Chong Ying, sensing the hostility, immediately drew his weapon, pointing it at the crowd that was gradually gathering. The sight of the fierce weapon instantly made the approaching residents freeze in fear.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, we were wrong. Please, just leave!”
The middle-aged woman holding the children trembled uncontrollably, her face full of terror. She didn’t even dare to look at He Fang and his team. “Please forgive us. I’m so sorry. Please, just go.”
“Leave, or don’t blame us!”
Someone raised a farming tool high above their head—completely non-threatening, but their entire body was shaking with fear. They were terrified, yet still trying to drive them away.
“You miserable—!” Chong Ying was livid. He couldn’t tolerate the fact that his Creator was being threatened by these lowly people.
But just then, Min Zhizhou felt a sudden jolt in his heart. Faced with these weak, completely powerless people, he instinctively pressed down on Chong Ying’s gun.
Chong Ying instantly glared at him, his eyes burning with fury and resentment, making Min Zhizhou’s scalp tingle. But he quickly said, “Calm down. The Vice Captain hasn’t spoken yet.”
Chong Ying immediately turned his attention to their Creator. Seeing their Creator being treated so terribly and showing such a bewildered expression, his heart ached unbearably. He had no mind to care about anything else.
“Let’s go.”
He Fang frowned at the wild NPCs who had suddenly fallen into a frenzy and immediately gave the order before turning to leave.
However, the child broke free from the adults’ grip and desperately ran toward He Fang.
“Take us with you! Please, mercenaries, please!”
He Fang turned back, his gaze sweeping over the NPCs, their faces filled with fear and complex emotions. Then, he removed something from his person and handed it to the child.
The child instinctively grasped the item, looking up in confusion—only to see He Fang and his group walking away.
A deep sense of grievance welled up inside him.
At last, the child let go of his forced strength, his helpless sobs echoing through the empty streets.
Their reactions are pretty understandable tbh