Chapter 143 — Otaku, Otaku
“The phone signal got cut off again yesterday. Looks like all the repairs they did last time were for nothing.”
The two leisurely enjoyed barbecue while admiring the snowy scenery outside and chatting about recent events in the base.
Fortunately, Luo Xun’s group had gone out of the base earlier this month and gathered plenty of crystal cores. Otherwise, there would’ve been no chance at all to leave the base by the end of the month.
“I heard they originally planned to broadcast the Spring Festival Gala over the public speakers again this year, just like last year. But judging by the current situation, even celebrating the Gregorian New Year properly probably won’t happen.” Yan Fei glanced toward the road behind their residential complex.
There had originally been rows of wooden frames there with loudspeakers mounted on top. But now even the wooden poles themselves had vanished, most likely stolen and burned as firewood. As for the speakers? Those had disappeared ages ago.
“Oh right, let me try the radio!”
The two dug out a radio they hadn’t used in ages. Ever since mobile phones became common, the base had been regularly sending messages to all survivors with phones whenever the signal was working—from water safety notices to updated base regulations. People could even review the records afterward, so very few still bothered listening to the radio.
Thus, their barbecue dinner date gained some background music.
Actually, the radio still broadcast some fairly useful information. For example, lately it had been repeatedly airing advice on how to keep homes warm during the snowstorms, warnings about carbon monoxide poisoning, and instructions for treating frostbite.
By the time the two started eating lamb skewers, the radio broadcast shifted from snowstorm safety notices to something unexpected—
Information regarding ability-user squads.
The two exchanged surprised glances and immediately listened carefully.
Previously, in order to limit the expansion of ability-user squads and reduce the tendency of survivors forming groups, the military had implemented a series of measures. For example, squads had been required to hand over larger amounts of supplies and crystal cores each month. That was exactly why Luo Xun’s group had risked heading out of the base earlier this month.
Now, with the end of December approaching, the base had finally reached a final decision regarding the matter.
Due to the increasingly frequent extreme weather conditions, the regulation would officially be postponed until after February next year. Any squads that had already paid the required supplies and crystal cores according to the new rules would not need to pay again in February. However, all squads would still need to complete their corresponding monthly tasks according to the old system.
Under the previous rules, beginner-level squads like Luo Xun’s weren’t required to take on any special missions at all. Only upgraded squads faced additional obligations.
The two looked at each other and smiled.
“Just as expected—they changed it again.”
“Yeah. Once February comes around, things will be much less rushed. But by then, the number of people leaving the base will also increase dramatically.”
Luo Xun didn’t particularly mind. “Even without these regulations, there’d still be tons of people leaving the base once spring arrives. This year’s snowstorms completely exceeded everyone’s expectations. Before last winter, people at least still had supplies scavenged from the city before the apocalypse to help them get through. But now? All the pre-apocalypse food has become completely inedible. The base itself only has limited food supplies. Even we feel like we’re scraping by, let alone everyone else.”
And that was with Luo Xun’s household still producing crops. As for the people who relied entirely on exchanging food at supply counters using points and crystal cores, their lives could only be imagined.
A few days after the new notice was issued, the entire base welcomed the public New Year.
According to the lunar calendar, both the Lunar New Year and the Gregorian New Year fell within January this year. To stabilize morale and strengthen everyone’s sense of belonging to the base, the military decided to create a festive atmosphere throughout the month.
Of course, fireworks remained strictly prohibited—whether privately or officially.
On New Year’s Day, Luo Xun’s group switched on all the radios throughout the various rooms. Whether people were in the common rooms or the hallways, they could hear music, crosstalk comedy, and other programs continuously broadcasting.
Li Tie’s group had scored impressive gains before the New Year. The five tirelessly moved back every useful resource they could find. They’d piled up an entire box of hard drives used for storing information. Quite a few of the files contained materials they themselves didn’t even know the contents of.
Sometimes they even casually copied over temporary transfer folders marked “urgent” or “important” while they were at it…
Ahem. Everyone had curiosity, after all.
Besides, they genuinely didn’t have any bad intentions. And after returning home, they honestly didn’t even have time to carefully inspect most of the materials.
During the Spring Festival holiday, the department Li Tie’s group worked for specifically gave them three days off.
Early in the morning, Xu Mei and Song Lingling began kneading dough. This flour had been stored away in advance before the base’s new grain harvest came in. Nowadays the base no longer sold flour at all—only rice remained available at the exchange counters. Plenty of people still had crystal cores but nowhere to exchange them for flour.
Even Luo Xun’s squad only had enough flour left for two more rounds of dumplings.
They planned to split the flour into two portions: one for today, and another for Lunar New Year later in the month.
Li Tie’s group helped chop lamb filling. To avoid outsiders hearing the noise, they specifically went into Room 1603 and set up two large chopping boards—one for chopping lamb and another for vegetable filling.
Meanwhile, Luo Xun and Yan Fei dragged Zhang Su along early in the morning to meet several squads at their agreed trading spot for vegetable exchanges.
After all, it was New Year’s. Those squads also wanted to buy more vegetables so their members could at least enjoy a decent full meal.
On the way there alone, the three dealt with two separate groups of robbers—eight people total—who had attempted to ambush them.
And after arriving at the destination, they even encountered several nosy individuals who approached to probe the situation, only to be directly blasted away by Zhang Su.
There was no helping it. After all, they were dragging cargo behind them, and anyone could tell those black metal boxes contained valuable goods. Even robbers needed to celebrate the New Year.
They had only just finished the exchange when someone hidden inside a snowbank along the snow-covered side road suddenly took a sniper shot at them.
An actual sniper shot.
If Yan Fei hadn’t been vigilant the whole time, the bullet would’ve hit Luo Xun, who was holding the crystal cores.
With a sharp slicing sound, Zhang Su casually raised a hand and counterattacked with a wind blade, directly severing the shooter’s gun-holding arm. The man screamed in shock and pain, dropping both the arm and the gun before turning to flee.
The sudden scene caused the members of the squad who had just traded with them to stiffen awkwardly. One of them forced out a dry laugh.
“Didn’t expect robbers to be out in broad daylight.”
Luo Xun smiled warmly and amiably at him. “We’re used to it. Every time we go out these days, there’s bloodshed. Public security outside can’t compare to the New District.”
The man had no idea how to respond, so he awkwardly laughed again, loaded up his team’s goods, and quickly left.
“All done?” The metal boxes were completely emptied now, and Yan Fei looked to Luo Xun for confirmation.
Luo Xun nodded as he checked messages on his phone. “Yep, all finished. Let’s head back.”
“The cafeteria didn’t want vegetables?” Zhang Su casually picked up the bloodstained gun from the ground and kicked the severed arm aside without even glancing at it. The gun counted as spoils of war, after all. These days it could at least be traded for a few packs of instant noodles.
“The cafeteria only came to buy vegetables the day before yesterday. They probably won’t need more until after New Year.” Luo Xun stuffed the phone back into his pocket and patted Zhang Su’s shoulder. “Buff us!”
And that was exactly why they’d dragged Zhang Su along.
His wind ability.
If Zhang Su hadn’t accidentally let it slip earlier, Luo Xun never would’ve known that he could now use his wind powers to buff nearby teammates, reducing their weight and increasing their movement speed across difficult terrain.
Zhang Su helplessly waved a hand.
At most, he could only maintain the effect on three or four people besides himself at once. Once there were too many people, it became useless unless he rotated them in batches. Because it was such a hassle, he’d intentionally never mentioned it before.
He’d known it—
The moment Luo Xun found out, he’d exploit his labor.
And now?
Sure enough.
When the group returned home, the meat filling had already been chopped and seasoned. Xu Mei and the others were squeezing excess water from napa cabbage when they saw Luo Xun’s group return.
“Check if the dough’s risen enough. We’re about to finish mixing the filling.”
“Okay.” Luo Xun responded as he washed his hands and checked the dough.
Meanwhile, Yan Fei sorted the crystal cores into separate bags and stacked them on the shelf beside the entrance.
“The crystal cores have all been divided. Everyone grab your share before leaving later.”
“Okay!”
Music from the radio echoed through the room. Little Xinran first played while hugging the dog, but before long she climbed onto its back, turning the poor dog into a mount as it carried her wildly running around the house.
The child’s laughter and everyone’s chatting nearly drowned out the music and programs from the radio, but the warm atmosphere filled everyone’s hearts with comfort.
For the two holidays during the month, the base had also started working overtime to clear snow from the streets.
Spreading salt wasn’t realistic. The base currently had no way to produce salt, and all existing supplies had been scavenged from pre-apocalypse salt transport centers. Although there was still quite a bit left, nobody dared waste it recklessly.
Fortunately, the base still had several snowplows. Combined with nonstop overtime work and manual labor, they finally managed to clear snow from several major roads.
According to the radio broadcasts, over the next few days they would continue clearing snow from smaller nearby streets, while encouraging survivors to contribute to maintaining their own homes by joining snow-clearing efforts around residential areas and nearby roads.
The lamb dumplings smelled wonderful.
On New Year’s Day, everyone ate until their stomachs were round, and even after returning home they still lingered over the flavor.
Three days later, once Li Tie’s group returned to work at the military camp, Luo Xun was discussing with Xu Mei and Song Lingling whether duck meat could be used for dumpling filling and what vegetables would pair well with it when the phone hanging by the coat rack suddenly started playing its ringtone.
Yan Fei stood up to retrieve the phone for him. After glancing at the caller ID, he raised an eyebrow slightly.
“It’s Han Li.”
“Han Li?” Weren’t they supposed to be at work already? Why was he suddenly calling home?
Luo Xun quickly took the phone. Han Li’s voice sounded heavy.
“Brother Luo, we’re packing up our things. We’ll be home soon.”
“What happened?” Luo Xun’s heart stirred, though he didn’t voice his guess directly.
“…We don’t have jobs anymore.” Han Li’s voice sank further, tinged with self-mockery. “We’re coming home to help you farm. The Otaku Squad’s really living up to its name now.”
He didn’t explain the details, but Luo Xun’s group could already guess most of what had happened.
Hearing that, Luo Xun laughed.
“Then hurry back. Sister Xu was just talking about sewing socks out of the cotton fabric at home. You guys can sew your own socks.”
“Oh, okay!” Han Li immediately understood Luo Xun’s meaning and laughed as well before hanging up and walking back into the workplace where they had spent an entire year.
When he returned, Li Tie gave him a look and quietly asked, “Did you tell Brother Luo and the others?”
Han Li nodded. “Yeah. Brother Luo said we should hurry back and sew socks.”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help laughing too. The two slowly packed their belongings together.
Nearby, He Qiankun’s chubby fingers were flying rapidly over a keyboard while Han Li and Wang Duo hovered beside him, deliberately blocking other people’s view of the screen.
The four of them gathered around He Qiankun’s desk, pretending to leisurely organize their belongings. Only after He Qiankun finally let out a long sigh and unplugged a USB drive from the computer tower did everyone suddenly speed up, quickly packing away everything they had left there.
After saying goodbye to their former coworkers and supervisors, they turned and left.
Among the newcomers replacing Li Tie’s group, several stood at the doorway watching the five departing figures like stray dogs driven out of their home.
Some felt delighted, excited, or disdainful.
Others felt melancholy and emotional.
Deep inside the computer room’s private workspaces, several engineers specially hired by the military—and provided housing within the camp—continued working in their offices. Most of them showed little reaction upon hearing that Li Tie’s group had been dismissed.
After all, Li Tie’s work mostly consisted of miscellaneous support tasks and repetitive labor requiring little mental effort. From their perspective, anyone could replace them.
But one man frowned unhappily, unable to suppress his irritation.
“They replaced five experienced workers who actually knew programming and had matching professional backgrounds with a bunch of amateurs? How long will it take those half-trained idiots to become competent? Is that really worth more than simply giving those five kids a few extra days off?”
The staff member delivering materials and informing him of the personnel changes quickly forced a smile.
“There’s nothing we can do about it. Those five lived too far away. If anything suddenly happened in the server room, it’d be inconvenient to call them over…”
Then he leaned closer and lowered his voice.
“More than half the newcomers were specially arranged placements. Four of them are direct relatives of base leadership. Engineer Yang, please bear with it.”
The engineer known as Yang snorted heavily through his nose before irritably opening several folders. After thinking for a moment, he mass-sent an email.
“Have those troublesome idiots organize all these files… within one week.”
The messenger broke into a cold sweat and left with a stiff smile.
Those files…
Even if Li Tie’s five-man group handled them, it would still take at least half a month to finish.
After hearing the five had been fired, the entire Otaku Squad—which was now fully staying home—decided to warmly welcome their five poor unemployed teammates.
After all, being forced out hit very differently from resigning voluntarily.
Sure enough, once Li Tie’s group returned home, Wang Duo immediately latched onto Zhang Su’s neck, rubbing against him while begging for comfort and affection.
Li Tie and the others were also visibly downcast. Even He Qiankun’s eyes were slightly red.
The group briefly explained what happened. Apparently, the moment they arrived at the military camp that morning, they’d been notified to pack up and leave. They hadn’t even been given any advance warning.
Wu Xin looked especially furious.
“If they were going to fire us, why didn’t they say so earlier?! They even gave us three days off before this! We thought we’d at least get to work a little longer after New Year!”
Then he added resentfully:
“There were still several TV dramas we hadn’t copied yet!”
…Why did it feel like the thing he regretted most was the unfinished TV drama collection?
Wang Duo was still clinging to Zhang Su’s neck, stubbornly squeezing onto the same chair with him to openly show affection. Hearing the discussion, he immediately raised his head to share the intelligence he’d gathered that morning.
“I secretly asked around. Apparently yesterday and the day before, our supervisor called several people in for overtime to teach the newcomers how to do the tasks we normally handle!”
“Right, right! And today there were three people I’d never even seen before sitting at the desks where we used to work!” He Qiankun also suddenly remembered.
Today he’d had some urgent things to deal with, and the group had to work together to trick the person sitting at his workstation into leaving before he could finish. Thinking about it now, it was fortunate they’d only been fired after being allowed to pack up their belongings. Otherwise, if they’d been dismissed directly after a full workday, he wouldn’t even have had time to handle the things on his computer—that would’ve been even more troublesome.
“There were four of them,” Wang Duo corrected while raising his hand again like he was showing off. “Four newcomers arrived these past two days. One of them stayed in Engineer Li’s office the entire time after we arrived. I heard they’re all relatives or sons of base leadership.”
The anger levels of Li Tie’s group instantly soared again.
If they’d been replaced by technically skilled workers, military personnel, or colleagues the base could easily recruit and who’d already worked with them before, they would’ve been upset—but only upset.
But being replaced by a bunch of complete strangers who’d never even shown their faces before, people who’d forced their way into government-paid positions through connections?
That genuinely disgusted them.
Seeing how awful Li Tie’s group looked, Luo Xun quickly stepped in to smooth things over.
“Forget about what’s happening over there for now. Since you’re all back anyway, let’s focus on finishing the things we need to handle here. Once spring comes, we’ll see if we can find ways to grow more crops.”
At present, their food supply was only barely enough to keep everyone fed. If they really ate their fill, the current harvests absolutely wouldn’t be enough—especially grains.
And now that Li Tie’s group had lost their jobs, it indirectly meant the team had also lost an additional source of income. Selling vegetables could still support them, but their quality of life certainly wouldn’t be good.
So they needed to find a solution…
Ideally, they needed more planting space.
Unfortunately, nearly every apartment in the complex was occupied now. The empty homes left behind by people frozen to death during the harsh winter had already been taken over temporarily by survivors whose makeshift houses had collapsed under heavy snow.
For now, renting extra space was impossible. They’d have to wait until spring to figure something out.
To distract Li Tie’s group and keep them from feeling miserable, the Otaku Squad decided to launch the very first full-team entertainment and craft activity in the squad’s history:
Sewing socks!!
The cotton fabric came from the curtain market Luo Xun, Li Tie, and the others had raided back then near the home furnishing district. Under the guidance of “Teacher Luo” and “Teacher Xu,” everyone began tracing sock patterns, cutting fabric, and sewing…
Anyway, you wore the socks you made yourself. If your stitches were messy or the seams scratched your feet, you could only endure it.
As for badly shaped cuts, incorrect sizes, or stabbing themselves with needles…
Well, they’d get used to it eventually.
Nobody expected these people to master clothing-making with such amateur skills. The point was simply to keep them occupied. Once the next batch of vegetables matured, everyone would be busy enough that they wouldn’t have time to dwell on random depressing thoughts anymore.
The Otaku Squad worked hard to keep every member busy, and gradually everyone accepted their shared goal of happily staying home, working, and living together.
Only after returning to their own room did Luo Xun finally start complaining.
“When I first heard the name ‘Otaku Squad,’ I already thought it sounded weird. And now look at it—it’s actually turned into a cursed prophecy and a giant flag!”
Yan Fei laughed and shook his head. “If I remember correctly, Li Tie and the others were the ones who came up with the name…” Then he suddenly thought of something and looked at Luo Xun curiously.
“Li Tie once said they’d seen an online post before the apocalypse claiming the end of the world was coming soon. The author’s name seemed to be something like ‘Otaku.’ Was that post written by you?”
The question had actually been lingering in Yan Fei’s mind for quite a while. He just hadn’t gotten around to confirming it because of various circumstances, and unexpectedly it had taken until now to finally ask.
In truth, he’d suspected it for ages. He’d previously seen the post on Li Tie’s phone, and nearly all the information and preparation tips mentioned there could be found throughout Luo Xun’s home.
Luo Xun froze for a moment before finally remembering the post he’d made before the apocalypse. Looking somewhat embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly.
“Yeah… I wrote it. But at the time, I couldn’t completely confirm whether the apocalypse would really happen…”
Because of that uncertainty, he hadn’t dared go all out back then. Otherwise, if he’d been one hundred percent certain the apocalypse was coming, he would’ve directly applied for loans, mortgaged property, maxed out multiple credit cards, and spent money like crazy stockpiling supplies before the world ended.
Yan Fei understood completely.
Even if he himself had experienced something similar to Luo Xun, he probably wouldn’t have dared gamble everything on the certainty that the apocalypse would happen. The fact that Luo Xun had already spent all his cash on preparations was courageous enough.
After returning to their room, Luo Xun started preparing dinner. Yan Fei checked the crops growing downstairs before heading upstairs to inspect the second floor as well.
When he arrived at the balcony greenhouse and began checking the plants there, he suddenly discovered something—
Some of the mutated plants Luo Xun had previously transplanted there had unexpectedly bloomed.
He immediately went back downstairs to fetch Luo Xun, and the two hurried together to the upstairs balcony.
“They weren’t blooming a few days ago! This thing actually flowered?” Luo Xun quickly checked the label pasted outside the pot.
It turned out to be the mutated strawberry seedlings.
Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉
