Free Web NovelChapter 146: Chapter 111: New Trade Route (Part 2)
Zhang Peng wasn’t sure about the surrounding environment or what Races lived there, so he simply pointed in a random direction. "Let’s go this way."
"Yes."
The Gophers immediately adjusted the fortress’s angle and began moving in the direction Zhang Peng had pointed. A white line slowly appeared on the map, representing the tunnel they were digging out.
In theory, the Gopher Fortress could burrow indefinitely deeper into the earth, but Zhang Peng didn’t let it go too far underground. He needed to monitor the surface to find out where any Tribes were located.
The fortress housed a device similar to sonar that constantly fed back information from the surface. It would filter and send an alert upon detecting lifeforms. However, if they dug too deep, this feedback would weaken, perhaps even becoming completely unable to gather information from above ground.
The Gophers under Zhang Peng’s command were a relatively easy Race to feed. While they couldn’t compare to Li Ziyu’s Undead, who required no food at all, the Gophers could subsist on insects. As they tunneled, the fortress automatically collected any insects they unearthed, which then became the Gophers’ rations.
Of course, these insects could only serve as rations; they weren’t the kind of true sustenance needed to increase the Gopher population.
As they continuously dug forward, various signals from the surface were converted into data and fed back into the fortress, allowing Zhang Peng to keep a constant watch on the environment above and whatever might be in it.
Perhaps it was due to the Wraith Mountain Range, or maybe they had dug in the wrong direction, but after traveling for an hour or two, everything remained peaceful. This also meant they had made no discoveries.
’I refuse to believe there’s nothing out here. Dig! Keep digging!’
The Gopher Mobile Fortress didn’t just advance in a straight line. Gophers are timid by nature; after digging for a certain distance, they would carve out a few loops, turning the underground tunnels into a labyrinth. Besides the Gophers themselves, it would be difficult for anyone else to figure out where the passages led.
Just like that, they would periodically create a loop to expand the number and scope of their tunnels before continuing on in their intended direction. They kept digging until noon.
[Friendly Reminder: A Tribe is present on the surface ahead.]
Zhang Peng had finally gotten some good news. A Tribe at last. He hurriedly ordered his Gophers to prepare to make contact. He certainly wouldn’t go himself—that would be far too dangerous. The Gophers could handle it; it wasn’t the first time they’d done this sort of thing, after all.
There was another reason: he had discovered that many Tribes in the Wasteland were of the Beastman Race. Since Gophers also belonged to the Beastman Race, it made communication easier. If he, a Human, were to go, it would only make the other party wary.
Five Gophers accepted the order and set off in the direction of the detected Tribe.
After about an hour, the Gophers finally returned with news about the Tribe ahead. It was a small Catman Tribe, extremely wary of strangers. The Gophers hadn’t even been allowed to enter the village; they were stopped at the perimeter. The Tribe also seemed quite poor, so they likely didn’t have anything valuable.
As the Gopher reported, he handed a sheet of Tree Bark Paper to Zhang Peng. It clearly detailed everything they had seen, heard, and thought.
This was a habit Zhang Peng had instilled. He felt that business was like a math problem—it was best to be serious and precise. Under his influence, the Gophers, who originally lived only underground and disliked interacting with other creatures, had gradually opened up. Though they remained timid, they now dared to speak to unfamiliar Races and had even acquired some of the mannerisms of a Merchant.
Taking the Tree Bark Paper and reading the information, Zhang Peng stroked his chin. He suddenly thought of the Catwoman Sisters he had met before. ’Could I have actually found my way to their Tribe?’
’If it really is their Tribe, that would be a good thing. After all, I’d have an acquaintance there, which would make doing business much easier!’
The Gophers had said the Tribe was poor, but Zhang Peng paid it no mind. ’My subordinates are still too literal,’ he thought. ’To succeed in business, you need the kind of Spirit that can sell a comb to a bald man or a pregnancy test to another man!’
’You just need a discerning eye.’
’There’s no such thing as poor, only things you haven’t figured out how to profit from.’
As long as there were intelligent beings, the concept of "poor" didn’t exist. After all, intelligent beings themselves were an excellent commodity. Take Liu Xingxing’s Treasure Hunting Catman, for example. Wouldn’t it make a great pet? Fluffy, well-behaved, and it could even talk.
"Take food—plants and meat, take it all. Also, grab those Weapons the Undead no longer need. Go there one more time."
After reading the Tree Bark Paper, Zhang Peng issued an order for a second attempt. The first visit had been a simple contact mission—asking a few questions without bringing any goods. This second trip was a probe, intended to gauge the Tribe’s true situation.
Both food and Weapons were the most common commodities in the Wasteland; nearly every Tribe had a need for them. One could deduce a great deal of information from which of these a Tribe desired.
If they needed food, for instance, it meant the Tribe’s fighting strength was low. They couldn’t hunt enough prey to feed their people. No matter how fierce such a Tribe might appear, they were all bark and no bite. You could either befriend them or eliminate them.
If they needed Weapons, it meant the Tribe had sufficient food and some degree of fighting capability, but their crafting skills were poor. With a Tribe like this, one had to remain vigilant against a potential double-cross. But there wasn’t too much to worry about. After all, the Weapons Zhang Peng sold were just the junk cast off by the Undead. If a Tribe was desperate enough to want even *those* Weapons, their real combat strength was easy to guess.
For a Transmigrator, the Otherworld was a brand-new reality, one that shattered the shackles that had once bound them. The name of those shackles was "conventional morality." Many of the ethical codes they had to abide by in their past lives were simply not required in this world.
