Chapter 19
Today’s daily task list has been updated—it aligns perfectly with the “wasteland world” task setting.
Jiang Jitang opened the details. The frontier warrior was trapped by a mutant beast with limited food supply; the scavenger family wanted a leak-proof hut because their child’s birthday was coming; the gene warrior had been ambushed, and without timely treatment, risked permanent disability.
They all sounded rather tragic.
The liquid protective suit and electric stun gun he just obtained would probably come in handy. He hadn’t expected his ordinary courier job to shift like this. Had he gone from the Peace Zone to the Battle Zone to deliver packages?
The key issue: the reward was barely any different.
Workload increased but salary remained the same—damned capitalists.
Looks like being a courier really has no future. Time to switch to business mode.
If there’s any upside, it’s this: the task list refreshes every three days. If he completes all tasks within two days, he gets one day off. Two workdays, one off day… hmm, that doesn’t sound too bad.
Also, the task settlement time had been extended—from 30 minutes to 90 minutes. He might even have time to stroll locally after completing a task.
“If future tasks take place outside peaceful environments, I might need to prepare.”
Jiang Jitang only pondered briefly. Right now, he had to solve the third task—escort a gene warrior—within a little over four hours.
The task didn’t require any special “goods.” He only needed to transport a severely injured patient to the other side—so he needed to consider the right vehicle.
His courier vehicle had three modes: electric scooter, carriage with compartment, and a third one not yet determined.
He originally thought of making an air or water transport mode, but now he had to carry a person—was he supposed to generate an ambulance?
“Maybe put a long board inside the carriage—should be enough for a big guy to lie on?”
Jiang Jitang went to the attic, now turned into a storage room, and found the interlocking boards and palm mattress he used to sleep on. He placed them onto the carriage—perfect fit.
Done. It’ll do.
Since the patient was heavily injured, he also found a white bedsheet, placed an uncertain-expiry medical blue pad on it, then loaded a rarely used household medical kit and a basin of warm water into the carriage.
Twenty-six minutes had passed.
No rush, breakfast first.
Doing tasks while physically exhausted was irresponsible to both himself and the client. Since the task allowed four hours, being a bit late shouldn’t cause problems.
After breakfast, he entered the task world.
[Please complete the task within 90 minutes.] A dialogue bubble popped up.
The task world was described as “wasteland,” but what he saw resembled a refugee camp.
It was an open area, but the plants had been thoroughly cleared, making it feel barren. Several gray, makeshift tent huts crowded together.
They weren’t randomly piled, though. There were paths left for walking and a slightly more open “square.”
He appeared in that small square with his modified carriage, next to a gravely injured man lying on the ground.
Jiang Jitang couldn’t see the man clearly—only the glowing words [Gene Warrior] above his head.
People were piled on top of him. These thin, dark-skinned individuals saw the sudden appearance of Jiang Jitang and recoiled like cockroaches caught under sunlight, scattering in fear.
The patient had already been stripped down to just a patched pair of underwear.
Jiang Jitang looked around. Anyone peeking out retreated back the moment his gaze met theirs, disappearing into the low makeshift tents.
Suspicion, fear, hostility—their eyes lingered on him through the tents. If he showed any weakness, he’d probably be stripped and robbed just like the gene warrior.
Jiang Jitang also observed.
Their appearances suggested East Asian descent, but their skin was dark with dermatological issues—lean, with poor hygiene.
It looked more like a slum setting.
The experience felt surreal—like standing inside footage of war ruins or slums from highly unequal countries.
But he didn’t like it much.
Novelty quickly gave way to a deep sense of powerlessness, because there was nothing he could do.
Fortunately, Jiang Jitang had excellent emotional self-regulation. Within seconds, he calmed down.
Compared to the others, his task target—the gene warrior—looked much better. Even covered in blood, he clearly had powerful musculature, smooth dark brown skin without skin conditions, only many scars.
That might explain why people who were practically drooling at the horse behind him didn’t dare approach—Jiang Jitang looked like a pampered upper-class person, not to be messed with.
What surprised him most was the faint gray haze across the entire area—a mix of curse, death, fear, and nightmare. Normally, no life could exist in places with that degree of negative energy. The last time he’d seen something similar was near an ancient battlefield in the magic world.
Yet people still lived here—not thriving, but at least crowded and bustling.
A strange place.
Mindful of the task time limit, he paused his thoughts and prepared to move the patient onto the carriage.
“Hm?” The moment he lifted, he noticed something different. For such a tall, heavy man, he was incredibly easy to carry. Testing further, he gripped the edge of the carriage and, with slight effort, lifted it.
Strength blessing in effect?
Unfortunately, he was on duty, so couldn’t actively test his current power.
He placed the man on the board. Previously facing away, he now saw that he was quite a proper young man—bearing the unique aura of a warrior.
A handsome face, strong muscles, deeply furrowed brows, and the fierce aura of a wolf—he reminded Jiang Jitang of the legendary knight from when they first met. That man was a high-born prodigy cultivated by the Church of Light.
He looked again at the injured warrior.
Pity—covered in blood and dirt, like a distressed chicken, not like that knight who was pristine at all times.
The resemblance was gone.
The iron-blooded warrior was severely injured and poisoned.
The poison was apparent from the eerie color around the wound—fluorescent purple coating the injury, preventing healing.
He tried cleaning it with medical alcohol.
Unexpectedly, the fluorescent purple reacted to the alcohol like a mortal enemy and dispersed.
Time was still acceptable. Jiang Jitang cleaned the skin around the wounds using warm water—the shoulder, thigh, abdomen—the head was the most troublesome, but at least the skull was intact.
Then he disinfected the wound with medical alcohol. The pain made the warrior groan faintly in his coma.
He took the chance to feed him some saline-sugar water using a needle-free syringe. Instinctively, the warrior absorbed the water, along with the salt and sugar.
Such a strong survival instinct—he’ll live.
After disinfection, no more fluorescent purple oozed. Jiang Jitang applied hemostatic and anti-inflammatory powder, then bandaged small wounds and sutured larger ones using a curved surgical needle before bandaging them.
Though it was his first time handling surgical tools, Jiang Jitang’s sewing skills made his stitches neat and tight, aesthetically pleasing.
The only issue was that fluorescent purple pus reappeared during treatment—proof of the poison’s potency.
He reapplied alcohol; once the wound stabilized, he cast a healing spell on key injuries, then crushed a disinfectant tablet for the unconscious man to swallow, giving additional saline-sugar water.
The warrior’s furrowed brows relaxed.
“It’s my first time treating someone like this. Bear with me, yeah?” He packed up the sewing kit and removed the disposable gloves.
The fee collected was for transportation; treatment wasn’t classed as a “product,” so it could only be a freebie.
His labor wasn’t charged, but the supplies used cost roughly 20–30 credits. This order’s value was 400, so his maximum allowable gift was 40 credits.
By then, 23 minutes had passed.
Seeing that the warrior was still nearly naked, he took out an emergency thermal blanket from the med kit. He tied a small knot at one end like a hood over the head, then wrapped the rest around the body to maximize insulation.
With the patient barely stabilized, Jiang Jitang grabbed the reins, following the red guiding light only he could see.
“Hyah!”
The carriage charged through the orderly chaos of the crowded slum district, kicking up dust and commotion.
Leaving behind the shantytown like a scab on the Earth’s surface, the carriage entered a slightly better area. Buildings here at least qualified as “illegal structures,” made from more uniform stone, wooden planks, and plastic-like sheets—some even had fenced yards.
Even the ground here was a mix of sticky soil and other materials—like rammed earth—producing less dust.
Perhaps due to the burning sun overhead, few people were on the streets. Some peeked out from the low buildings but stayed hidden indoors.
Cough, cough. He pressed his fist to his lips—the airborne dust made his throat itch.
Cough. A sound came from behind—the warrior had awakened from the jolting.
“You’re awake?” Jiang Jitang turned slightly. The warrior saw only his sharp profile, but it was the voice he remembered—the one that felt like light in the darkness.
So despite being a stranger he should be wary of, he instinctively relaxed.
“Who are you?” the warrior asked hoarsely.
“I’m the errand boy you hired for 80 credit points,” Jiang Jitang replied with a smile. Though he looked unwell, his smile held the calm of a peaceful empire. “Responsible for taking you home.”
The warrior recalled that he had indeed posted such a job before falling unconscious—but someone accepted it this quickly? And someone like this? And he even received treatment?
Still reeling, the warrior then noticed what was ahead… the horse.
His eyes widened in disbelief. This was like ordering an economy ride and getting picked up by a globally limited luxury supercar—his fare wouldn’t even cover the fuel.
Just who was escorting him?
No—what was his angle?
The carriage continued forward and reached a barrier, clearly man-made. But as soon as the guards saw the carriage approaching, they reacted like facing their superior officer, rushing to open the gate, letting the carriage breeze past like the wind—dazzling those waiting in line.
“Is that… a horse? A real one? Someone still rides horses nowadays?!”
Amid the crowd’s astonishment, the horse stepped gracefully onto a dark gray asphalt-like road and trotted away.
“Bro, who’s that big shot?” a new guard asked cautiously.
“Don’t know, but look at what he’s riding—an antique-style horse carriage. You think just anyone can afford that? Keep your eyes sharp. If you make someone like that stop to show a pass, you’d be humiliating him. And when that happens, HQ won’t save you.”
The guard didn’t want to speak much—talking consumed energy, and remaining quiet and still like a turtle was the survival method of ordinary people here. But he was afraid his underling might offend someone and drag him down too.
“In short—don’t get involved in worlds we don’t understand.”
Every guard and person in line craned their necks, staring into the dust-filled distance with mixed expressions.
