PGVCW 64

Playing God in Various Catastrophic Worlds

Chapter 64: Entering the Pangu Base

With her belly protruding from the ham sausage she had eaten, Xia Wang'an was safely escorted by Qingyang into the inner sanctum of the base.

She kept herself busy curiously inspecting her surroundings. At a glance, this world looked strikingly similar to Blue Star—they even shared a mutually intelligible language—but once you stepped inside the settlement, the structural differences became stark.

Blue Star’s five major districts had been repeatedly reconstructed across successive apocalypses, absorbing hard-learned lessons from each trial. As a result, their architecture was forged into a hardened defense-and-evacuation layout engineered for rapid survival no matter what catastrophe struck. Even Blue Star's standard buildings were resilient enough that, short of a direct meteorite shower, localized earthquakes, infernos, or alien beast incursions failed to inflict catastrophic structural failure.

Conversely, the bases in this world were quite literally a cluster of ordinary residential structures haphazardly erected upon a patch of earth. Defensive measures relied entirely on manual labor, and automated patrol droids were completely nonexistent.

Clearly, this realm had failed to spark its technological tree post-apocalypse; it closely resembled a peacetime Blue Star—with the sole distinction that back then, Blue Star citizens called their communication terminals "smartphones".

As Xia Wang'an gazed about, the squad members paid it no mind. Putting themselves in her shoes, if they had been raised in isolation by anomalies all their lives and suddenly introduced to a densely populated human settlement, they would undoubtedly be staring everywhere in wonder.

True to routine, the team leader headed into the administrative hall to negotiate a lease, successfully securing a three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment.

Merchandise could not possibly sell out within a single day, meaning they would need to reside within the Pangu Base for roughly a week. With no way of knowing whether anomalies might infiltrate the compound during their stay, having an exclusive apartment unit provided the team with an essential layer of security and peace of mind.

Renting the quarters, leasing a storefront, paying protection fees, registering their cargo inventories at the administrative desk, and taking a brief detour to check the missing persons boards for anyone matching Xia Wang'an's description yielded no results. Consequently, the team rerouted to an official vendor window to purchase a supplementary supply of cornmeal alongside her teammates.

Team Leader Cheng Hu found himself buried in a mountain of logistical errands. Ordinarily, splitting up these tasks among individual members would accelerate operations, but traveling solo in this era was strictly taboo—one had to guard against rogue human elements just as vigilantly as stray anomalies.

It was a standard apocalyptic malady: scarce resources inevitably bred fierce competition and dog-eat-dog survivalism among the living. Aside from transcendent powerhouses capable of soloing entire mercenary factions, the vast majority of survivors operated exclusively in tightly knit packs.

Take the Rock Squad that had taken in Xia Wang'an, for instance; their entire operational routine for the day followed a strict pattern:

Team Leader negotiations for housing — Squad members standing guard in the background flexing their physiques.

Team Leader leasing a storefront — Squad members standing behind with expressionless, stern faces.

Team Leader purchasing cornmeal — Squad members taking turns shouldering the heavy sacks.

The Misunderstood "Big Shot"

strutting like a peacock into the new settlement, the Rock Squad was desperately broadcasting its combat readiness and signaling to all onlookers that they were not to be trifled with.

Flexing their muscles while hauling heavy cornmeal sacks in an effort to accentuate their bicep definitions, the team members frequently glanced ahead toward Xia Wang'an, who strolled leisurely while casually taking in the sights as though on a Sunday promenade.

Her striking appearance made her an immediate focal point. In a base where inhabitants universally sported sun-scorched, dark complexions, Xia Wang'an’s porcelain-white skin and classic beauty radiated like a giant, luminous beacon, instantly drawing wandering gazes.

Yet her demeanor possessed such utter nonchalance that she felt entirely unbothered by the staring crowds, marching down the thoroughfare with unhurried poise. Coupled with the Rock Squad marching attentively behind her and her own absolute lack of intention to yield the path, surrounding pedestrians instinctively stepped aside to clear the way.

With skin that fair and tender, accompanied by a personal vanguard of bodyguards, she must be some sort of high-ranking VIP, right?

"Skipper, I think Wang'an actually carries more of a grand VIP aura than we do."

Though they hadn't fully registered it inside the transport vehicle, stepping onto solid ground made it glaringly obvious that Xia Wang'an exuded an unmistakable heavyweight presence. It was that supreme, unflappable composure suggesting that absolute nothing in the world constituted a genuine threat. Combined with the Rock Squad marching in her wake laden with cargo bags and grain sacks, they looked precisely like a wealthy dignitary's personal retinue of luggage-carrying attendants.

Of course, nobody considered that they refused to let Wang'an carry anything simply because she appeared physically frail—prompting them to spare her from heavy labor altogether.

Cheng Hu glanced from Xia Wang'an’s relaxed, unhurried pace forward to his own team members staggering under massive bundles and cornmeal sacks. "Isn't this arrangement preferable? Far better than having a bunch of troublemakers approach her just because she's good-looking."

When traveling externally, minimizing complications always trumped inviting them; if bystanders steered clear of Xia Wang'an, it eliminated a mountain of idle harassment. Pride? If he cared about superficial prestige, he wouldn't have spent his morning exchanging polite, deferential entreaties with the base gate warden just to secure early entry for his squad.

And so, the procession maintained its formation: Xia Wang'an strolling casually at the vanguard, with the Rock Squad trailing behind hauling gear like a team of subordinates.

An unexpected fringe benefit materialized instantly. By afternoon, well-connected informants across the Pangu Base were whispering about the arrival of a major dignitary.

Word spread that she possessed an extraordinary complexion—paler and smoother than fresh parchment—with porcelain arms that clearly indicated she rarely, if ever, suffered solar exposure. Furthermore, her apparel featured exquisite fabric weaves reminiscent of pre-apocalyptic luxury textiles. Even the Rock Squad—a notoriously selective mercenary unit that had repeatedly rebuffed recruitment overtures from major regional factions—receded into docile obedience like domestic kittens in her presence.

In the contemporary wasteland era, possessing a pale complexion served as an absolute metric for identifying an influential aristocrat. Whiteness verified that she belonged to an elite stratum capable of surviving amidst rampant anomalies without relying on outdoor manual labor. Superior fabric quality tailored precisely to her dimensions implied she maintained independent logistical networks capable of procuring raw textiles and commissioning bespoke tailoring.

Experienced operators within the base were far from foolish. While curiosity regarding her background and confidence ran high, nobody possessed the death wish required to act as an aggressive vanguard.

During the immediate onset of the apocalypse, reckless idiots might have pressed forward; but by the current epoch, all fools had long since been culled. Encountering an unverified individual strongly suspected of high-level backing elicited a singular, uniform reflex: give them a wide berth.

Offending her might not necessarily mean kicking a steel plate, but considering their stable routines, why invite unnecessary friction with a complete stranger out of sheer boredom?

Consequently, the Rock Squad’s administrative processing proceeded with unprecedented fluidity. Even the market administrator—who historically maintained a cheerful facade while covertly extorting processing fees—executed their paperwork with lightning velocity. While he distributed no material gratuities, he at least refrained from levying supplemental exactions.

Cheng Hu’s gaze toward Xia Wang'an underwent a subtle paradigm shift. "Pity that it's a fabricated facade; otherwise, with this young lady's natural aura, we could breeze through any settlement on the continent."

The Fire-Ham Negotiation

Xia Wang'an remained entirely indifferent to the cautious, evasive posture adopted by base residents. In past dimensional arrivals, encounters with obstinate instigators invariably provided opportunities to harvest faith power values once she neutralized them; however, following her return to domestic sectors, subsequent world-hops had ceased generating proactive provocations.

She had grown thoroughly accustomed to the quiet.

Upon entering the rented apartment quarters, Xia Wang'an casually unsealed her spatial repository, produced five fire-ham sausages, and deposited them directly into Cheng Hu’s palms: "For you to eat."

Barring scenarios involving physical dismemberment, she maintained scrupulous personal etiquette. Since Cheng Hu and his operatives had extended genuine goodwill, reciprocating the gesture represented a baseline standard.

Cheng Hu stared at the sausages resting in his hands: "..."

The remaining squad members froze: "..."

Fire! Ham! Sausages!

Only Qingyang, who had previously glimpsed the preserved meat near the Spider-Woman’s domain, experienced a facial twitch as she cautioned her companions in an undertone: "She must have salvaged these from the Spider-Woman's territory. Back at the gate, she tried handing them to me, but I made her tuck them away before anyone noticed."

Xia Wang'an offered an immediate factual correction: "They were not sourced from the Spider-Woman's domain. I retrieved them from my personal residence."

Though she had yet to finalize a comprehensive cover identity, misrepresenting petty inventory origins served no strategic purpose.

The Rock Squad registered a silent consensus: Whether sourced from an anomaly lair or your home, what difference is there?

As squad leader, Cheng Hu maintained a strained silence, facial muscles twitching in a vivid pantomime of internal moral torment. Sausages manufactured prior to the apocalypse commanded astronomical black-market valuations across all regional bases; had he not fortuitously acquired a single unit years prior, he wouldn't have preserved it untouched for three consecutive seasons.

On one hand, his desire for the provisions was overwhelming—accepting unsolicited generosity offered by civilian travelers triggered an instinctive reluctance to refuse lest nocturnal regret induce physical sickness. On the other hand, Xia Wang'an projected such pristine innocence that he felt like an exploitative adult swindling sustenance from an unworldly child.

Even though the moral constraints of the apocalypse had largely atrophied, his conscience stubbornly refused to flatline. Damn it! Why do I still possess an active moral compass?!

Ultimately, twitching facial expressions culminating in deep psychological reluctance, Cheng Hu retained a single fire-ham sausage in his grip while thrusting the remaining four back into Xia Wang'an’s palm. "You rescued us with your presence; let this single unit suffice as compensation. Moving forward, you will share board and lodging alongside our roster. The remainder..."

Qingyang and the teammates wore expressions of acute physical pain, wrestling internally between covetous desire and basic human decency as they shielded their eyes: "Skipper, you make the call."

Cheng Hu inhaled deeply and gritted his teeth: "Take them back!"

Xia Wang'an nodded cheerfully: "Understood."

She retrieved the four sausages with a swift, decisive efficiency that entirely preempted any possibility of Cheng Hu reversing his verdict.

Cheng Hu: Such... such decisive execution.

Xia Wang'an: [They seem reasonably decent; let us remain aligned with their group for the immediate future.]

007 responded instantly: [Hurray!]

Xia Wang'an had historically sustained emotional injuries across complex interpersonal networks; while she consciously denied retaining lingering trauma, central headquarters protocols had proactively engineered contingency measures to preempt analogous vulnerabilities. A sixteen-year-old ordinary high school student experiencing social friction within her native dimension might organically process setbacks and mature into functional maturity; however, Xia Wang'an’s developmental timeline had been continuously fractured across high-hazard catastrophic worlds, denying her organic interpersonal maturation.

Her chronological bandwidth remained intensely precious, dedicated entirely toward optimizing combat metrics and academic scholarship. Metaphorically speaking, Xia Wang'an’s formidable power had been directly exchanged for emotional intelligence.

Recognizing this behavioral baseline, central leadership avoided forcing her to independently cultivate interpersonal acumen, opting instead to pre-program strategic decision-making frameworks. Analogous to plugging standardized formulas into mathematical equations, once Xia Wang'an mastered a behavioral formula, matching it against parallel contextual scenarios ensured she avoided systemic disadvantage.

Her decision to gift the ham sausages to the Rock Squad integrated dual objectives: personal impulse coupled with the systematic application of a validated tactical "formula". If the mercenaries accepted unconditional ownership, it marked a final transactional settlement for transport assistance, leaving mutual obligations settled; however, retaining a fractional share while returning the remainder signaled structural acceptance of her integration into their operational unit.

Reviewing the headquarters-issued behavioral guidelines mentally, Xia Wang'an concluded her operational execution contained zero systemic errors. Even if minor miscalculations occurred, her personal parameters possessed ample buffer capacity to absorb collateral consequences.

The immediate operational priority demanded intensive review sessions targeting the Comprehensive Talisman Compendium.

The All-Night Study Session

The three-bedroom apartment allocated sleeping quarters naturally across the five Rock Squad operatives, while Xia Wang'an shared a designated chamber alongside Qingyang.

Prior to retiring, Cheng Hu executed a solemn ritual: portioning the single retained fire-ham sausage into five fractional segments. The Rock Squad personnel congregated in a tight circle, consuming their respective morsels through microscopic, deliberate nibbles that extended the consumption window across fifteen agonizingly precious minutes.

"Exquisite... fresher than canned goods expired by multiple decades."

Bathed in a wave of profound existential fulfillment, the group celebrated surviving yet another diurnal cycle before transitioning into evening briefing protocols.

"The missing persons boards yielded zero leads, and digital registry queries returned null results. It is highly probable Wang'an's relatives are stationed outside the Pangu Base; we can initiate localized inquiries once we return to the Nüwa Base."

Having successfully secured premium provisions, Cheng Hu’s emotional baseline had soared considerably: "Considering Wang'an maintains stable physiological health, upon returning to the Nüwa Base, we can introduce her to baseline self-defense regimens and liquidate those remaining sausages gradually. Between those measures, securing her long-term stability within the base will present zero complications."

This constituted a highly methodical "stray cat rehabilitation protocol." Because the "stray cat" arrived equipped with independent rations, Cheng Hu’s initial operational anxieties dissolved completely.

Qingyang harbored deep affection for Xia Wang'an, yet consciously refrained from proposing permanent integration into their mercenary roster. For an operational unit constantly deploying externally on high-risk transport runs, incorporating an untrained civilian like Xia Wang'an would amount to a death sentence.

Following brief deliberations regarding merchandising schedules, inventory pricing, and morning meal logistics, the team dispersed into their respective quarters to rest.

Assuming Xia Wang'an had already retired, Qingyang stepped into their shared chamber only to discover the young girl seated upright beneath the illumination source, intensely absorbed in her thick academic tome.

"Still studying? Time for sleep."

Xia Wang'an replied without lifting her gaze: "You rest first. I must master additional talismanic arrays to counter the anomalies."

Observing the dedicated young girl under the lamplight, Qingyang felt a gentle swell of sympathetic tenderness. She suppressed the urge to deliver the harsh reality that talismanic esoterica remained utterly inert against operational anomalies. After all, they remained guests within unfamiliar territory; such conversations could safely wait until their return journey to the Nüwa Base.

Noticing Qingyang slip beneath her blankets, Xia Wang'an extinguished the primary ceiling luminaire with a thoughtful qualification: "I can study comfortably in total darkness."

Ever since achieving the Divine Transformation stage, her nocturnal visual acuity matched pristine daylight parameters.

Deeply touched by her consideration, Qingyang reached back to reignite the lamp: "Unnecessary. Those of us accustomed to active fieldwork sleep soundly regardless of ambient illumination."

Xia Wang'an raised no further objections. Though lighting conditions held zero functional relevance to her optical systems, years of ingrained academic conditioning favored operational environments featuring active illumination.

Closing her eyes, Qingyang drifted into slumber while maintaining profound internal admiration for Xia Wang'an's relentless academic dedication—even if the underlying subject matter lacked practical utility.

At 10:00 PM, Qingyang slept soundly while Xia Wang'an read.

At 1:00 AM, minor base perimeter breaches triggered a localized alert; rising briefly to execute perimeter vigilance and utilize sanitary facilities, Qingyang observed Xia Wang'an reading.

At 3:00 AM, external nocturnal disturbances roused Qingyang from her mattress; Xia Wang'an remained quietly engaged in active study.

At 5:00 AM, as Qingyang arose for the morning cycle, Xia Wang'an sat in identical posture, turning pages.

Staring at the raven-haired maiden—who radiated vibrant health and unblemished skin despite waking nocturnal interruptions that left Qingyang herself blinking through persistent eye strain and mental fog—Qingyang rubbed her temples.

Suppressing a wide yawn, she articulated the obvious: "Are you genuinely immune to fatigue?"

"How can academic study induce fatigue?" Xia Wang'an responded with bright enthusiasm.

Emergency session cramming yielded optimal dividends; she was presently primed and eager to acquire physical talismanic media to execute operational diagnostics against local anomalies. The pedagogical progression mirrored academic semesters where scholars, immediately following theoretical instruction, hungered for midterm examinations to quantify pedagogical retention.

Qingyang: ...

Having grown up in an era devoid of formal scholastic infrastructure, she lacked the psychological framework required to comprehend the psychological profile of an elite academic perfectionist.

Dawn Preparations

"Are you planning to head out? I wish to accompany you."

Noticing Qingyang change into field attire, Xia Wang'an rose proactively: "I need to acquire retail supplies."

Producing her fire-ham reserves, she inquired: "Can these units be liquidated for circulating currency?"

Qingyang stared blankly: "...Are you genuinely immune to sleep deprivation?"

Xia Wang'an shook her head, her crystalline gaze contrasting sharply against Qingyang's bloodshot ocular capillaries: "I have minimal physiological requirements for somatic sleep."

Following her ascension to the Divine Transformation stage, baseline somatic slumber ceased to provide functional physiological utility; retaining sleep habits functioned purely as an emotional tribute mimicking her pop-culture idol [Tai Bai]'s longevity regimens. Naturally, when confronted with compelling academic modules, health-preservation protocols took an immediate backseat.

Suffering from severe somatic dissociation, Qingyang accepted the reality.

Pushover doors parted to reveal the remaining Rock Squad personnel similarly dragging heavy footsteps, their ocular orbits shadowed by deep, bruised fatigue.

Yuan Qu groaned aloud: "Pangu is supposedly a premier base; why did the perimeter alarms scream continuously throughout the night? Exactly how many minor anomalies managed to slip past internal defenses?"

Teammate Zhang Xingwu suppressed a heavy yawn: "Skipper, base security standards are steadily deteriorating. Let us compress our inventory pricing margins, liquidate our freight rapidly, and evacuate this perimeter."

Every regional installation maintained defensive garrisons; structural integrity correlated directly with localized perimeter security. Based on nocturnal disturbance frequencies, Pangu Base's defensive matrix exhibited operational instability. Across the Rock Squad's historical deployments, base collapses invariably initiated through cumulative minor anomaly incursions.

Displaying heavy dark circles under his eyes, Cheng Hu nodded with solemn gravity: "Agreed. Adjust our baseline pricing downward by ten percent."

While evacuating the Pangu Base entirely with full inventory freight represented the optimal safety play, arriving after an arduous cross-country trek combined with capital expenditures committed toward short-term residential leasing meant premature departure would trigger catastrophic financial losses rather than reduced profit margins.

Surveying Xia Wang'an—who radiated vibrant, waking vitality—Cheng Hu offered a tired, wry smile: "Wang'an appears to have secured restorative rest."

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