ATPnovel Chapter 18 The Femme Fatale
Chapter 18 The Femme Fatale
The Upper East Side of Pearl Harbour, often referred to as the villa area, is a completely different world from the shipwreck area, which is filled with rust and the stench of decay year-round.
There is no biting sea wind here, only a gentle breeze emanating from the constant-temperature magic array.
Bolton's office is located at the top of the core building in the villa area. The entire room is decorated in an Art Deco style that is extremely rational, yet morbidly extravagant.
The office floor was covered with white werewolf skin transported from the frozen snowfields. It wasn't particularly soft to the touch, but the skin certainly exuded an air of grandeur.
Unlike ordinary homes where electrical wires and light bulbs provide illumination, the office walls are inlaid with warm-colored magic crystals, making the entire room brightly lit.
Bolton leaned back lazily on the scarlet velvet sofa, her burgundy silk dress flowing down her curves like ripples on water, perfectly outlining her stunning figure.
Her long, shapely legs were casually crossed, and her smooth, jade-like feet rested on the edge of the coffee table.
A pair of black stilettos with red soles were casually tossed aside next to the sofa and coffee table.
Bolton swirled the crystal goblet in his hand, the red wine leaving viscous streaks on the glass.
She slightly raised her slender swan neck, took a small sip, and swallowed it with a quick movement of her throat.
"So, those outsiders aren't afraid of you at all?" Bolton asked casually, his voice languid, but it sent a shiver down the spine of Scarface, who was standing a few meters away.
Scarface looked like a docile quail, not daring to lift his head.
He didn't even dare to breathe too hard, afraid that his foul smell would soil the office.
He swallowed hard and said in a trembling voice, "Boss, they're very stubborn. They'd rather go to the shipwreck area than hand over the gold coins."
But I've already had all the water and supply lines to the outside world cut off. They're trapped in this muddy mess now, and they probably won't have any water to drink for a few days."
"Heh." Bolton chuckled, a hint of disdain flashing in her alluring eyes. "Stubborn? On this island, the stubborn ones are usually the first to die. Since you're not willing to pay, then don't even think about working at the docks. Just stay in the shipwreck area."
She put her fair feet down from the coffee table, lifted her red-soled high heels with her toes, stood up, walked to the window, and looked down at the edge of the shipwreck area shrouded in thick fog below.
"There's no need to waste manpower fighting a few thirsty wild dogs. You know better than anyone what the water on that beach is made of. Without a purification array, drinking it will just cause your intestines to rot."
Bolton ran his fingertip lightly across the fogged glass, his tone arrogant, "In less than three days, they'll be driven mad by the lack of water."
When the time comes, they'll be so thirsty they'll crawl over like dogs, licking the soles of my shoes and begging for a sip of water.
She turned around and continued, "When they kneel down, pick a few young ones and send them to the upper-class gentlemen; we're short of fresh meat lately. As for the rest, strip them naked and sell them, and use the corpses to fill foundations. In the shipwreck area, even a stray dog must be squeezed for every last drop of profit before it dies."
…………
Meanwhile, in the shipwreck camp, which Bolton considered lambs to the slaughter, the atmosphere was indeed extremely oppressive.
Xiaoyu and Xiaowoniu leaned against a half-dead log, their lips cracked and bleeding. Just as Bolton had predicted, it would be difficult to survive for two days in the shipwreck area if they were cut off from water and food.
What if we were to demand resources from those laborers?
It's unrealistic to think about it; those poor slaves were counting on these resources to survive, and if they gave them to others, they would die.
Moreover, would those people dare to do that on Bolton's turf?
"I can't take it anymore, I feel like my throat is on fire. This realism is just too inhuman..." Xiaoyu swallowed hard, feeling like there was coarse sandpaper stuck in her throat.
"George also seems incredibly thirsty."
Xiaoyu patted George's head, her eyes filled with worry.
The gray puppy had lost its usual liveliness and lay listlessly by the mud puddle, panting heavily.
Lynn sat under the eaves of a dilapidated wooden house not far away, quietly watching the group of players.
He understood Bolton's plan; the man wanted to use a monopoly on survival resources to eliminate them without bloodshed. But Lynn knew even better that players were masters at breaking the rules.
Once the equipment for stewing large quantities of food in an iron pot is in place, the current predicament will be alleviated.
But before that, sitting around waiting for someone to log on is obviously a waste of time.
Lynn's gaze fell on the little snail. Among the first batch of test players, the little snail clearly possessed rare composure and organizational skills, much like the political commissar in large guilds who were specifically responsible for logistics and command.
Since they want to settle down here, fighting and killing alone is not enough; they must have their own strongholds and facilities, which requires the help of the indigenous people.
More importantly, he needed to find something for these players who had nowhere to vent their energy to do, in order to divert their negative emotions caused by extreme hunger.
Lynn slowly stood up and walked to the players.
He spoke in a somewhat guiding NPC tone: "Brave pioneers, Bolton's blockade is more stringent than I imagined. If we are to establish ourselves on these ruins, we need a local who can offer assistance."
Old village chief Lucas once told me that deep within the rubble heap north of the shipwreck area lived a blind man called Old One-Eyed. He was eccentric, but with his help, we might be able to complete our mission more effectively.
Upon hearing this, the little snail's eyes regained a glimmer of clarity.
At that moment, a system notification popped up on the emblem on his arm: [Hidden recruitment quest triggered: Find Old One-Eyed.]
"I've got a job!" The little snail immediately straightened up, its brain working at lightning speed.
He glanced at the others who were still waiting for the "rescue experts" to come online and immediately made arrangements.
"Agent! Come here!" The little snail waved to the player in the corner who was studying the rusty dagger.
"What's wrong, Snail Bro?" the agent asked, approaching.
The little snail lowered its voice and, like a seasoned guild leader, assigned tasks: "The main force can't move now. We need to stay here and wait for Big Goose to come online and get water. Go north to explore the map and find an NPC to befriend. You're the best person for that. Remember, sneak over there. Don't fight monsters head-on, and it's best to avoid people as well. Once you find Old One-Eyed's location, come back and report."
Interesting, interesting. I've received a new mission, and it's still my favorite: stealth and exploration.
"I'll totally take care of it! Leave it to me!" The agent licked his chapped lips, looking excited.
For a future Thieves player, this lone wolf exploration mission is practically tailor-made.
Which player could refuse such an exciting mission!
He tightened his grip on the broken dagger, and like a nimble black cat, he disappeared into the thick acid fog without looking back.
Not long after the agent left, a faint but exceptionally clear white light suddenly appeared on the open ground in front of Lynn.
He's coming.