Colonial Suit

From the perspective of the blood pupil, all he could see was a patchwork of brown armor plates covering his body. The armor was beautifully shaped, with a smooth, glossy finish. Layer upon layer, it formed an almost perfect suit of armor. Unlike the rigid armor he had seen before, this set was full of streamlined beauty. Two semi-circular shoulder guards extended backward, forming two sharp points. Blood Pupil tentatively moved, discovering that the armor not only didn't restrict his movements but also provided him with maximum convenience. Moreover, sufficient armor plates extended on the upper arms and thighs, perfectly connecting with the colony-installed hand and foot components he already possessed. Combined, it formed a complete set of armor, lacking only the head.

Could this be the benefit of "It" absorbing the Starry Sky Beast Organization? Blood Pupil was overjoyed. He stood up and made a few movements, immediately feeling the amplification coming from the armor. Although he couldn't determine the exact data, Blood Pupil estimated that it had increased his strength and agility by at least three times. If he added the hand and foot components, he believed it wouldn't be much inferior to the armor on the market.

Moreover, this was a living armor. From the parts where his body contacted the armor, Blood Pupil could clearly feel the vitality of the armor's tissue. It was like breathing, generating explosive power with Blood Pupil's movements. From the seams of the armor, Blood Pupil could also see the unique texture of the biological tissue, just like the original colony-installed components.

This is really... amazing...

Obtaining his own armor for the first time, Blood Pupil felt boundless joy, but he quickly calmed down. Because he couldn't find "It" at all. It was as if "It" had never appeared. But Blood Pupil wasn't worried, after all, this wasn't the first time. Every time after giving him benefits, "It" would fall into a brief slumber. This had become a routine.

Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the excitement in his heart. Blood Pupil looked out the window, seeing that the sky was already beginning to brighten. His coma had actually lasted all night. At the same time, he felt a faint sense of hunger.

That's the only bad thing, it eats too much. Blood Pupil smiled wryly. He paid the bill and left the bar.

Next, he went to the Hunter's Guild, converting all his recent gains into gold Vicks and ore. He also purchased a large number of supplies and weapons and ammunition. Old John warmly received him. Perhaps because of the priest Robbie, Blood Pupil felt that Old John was obviously somewhat in awe of him. This feeling was faint, but it could be detected with care.

Old John gave Blood Pupil three vials filled with blue potion. He told him that this was left by Robbie. It was a highly compressed nutrient that could replenish a large amount of physical energy in a short time. It was a standard allocation for cosmic mercenaries. Then he pushed out a motorcycle from behind and handed it to him.

"This is also from Robbie. He said he regretted that your motorcycle was destroyed because of him. So he bought you a latest model. I hope you like it."

"Thank you," Blood Pupil replied politely. Then he calmly sat on the motorcycle and left the Hunter's Guild with the supplies. Watching his quickly receding figure, Old John's gaze was complicated.

"What a lucky kid. It seems he also has a chance to jump out of this planetary prison. I just don't know how long it will take him to reach the minimum standard for cosmic mercenaries. Five years? Ten years? Strange, why didn't I notice his armor?"

On the endless wasteland, a motorcycle sped quickly. This was a standard sand motorcycle, with four thick tires and strong power. The maximum speed could reach one hundred and sixty kilometers per hour. Any bandit who saw such a motorcycle would not miss it.

Blood Pupil sat on the motorcycle, his short hair flying wildly in the wind. But it couldn't block his indifferent gaze. He had encountered no less than five waves of bandits along the way, and his hands were stained with blood. Those greedy and bloodthirsty guys would certainly not let go of a lone traveler like him, but they never dreamed that this lone traveler was actually a wolf. A wolf even more bloodthirsty than them.

None of these five waves of bandits had armor. The strongest weapon they had was a machine gun. So they all died. Blood Pupil had no intention of showing mercy. This was the apocalypse, and everything should be done according to the rules of the apocalypse. The word 'mercy' had never appeared in Blood Pupil's mind.

The motorcycle bumped violently, and a small gathering point appeared on the distant horizon. Blood Pupil knew that was his destination today, the closest gathering point to Shelter No. 8. Beyond this gathering point, he would return to the place where he had lived for twenty years.

The closer he got to the gathering point, the more figures there were on the wasteland. Blood Pupil saw several convoys moving slowly forward. Seeing Blood Pupil approaching, the guards on the convoys showed vigilant gazes. But Blood Pupil didn't even bother to look at them and brushed past them, driving towards the gathering point in a cloud of dust. After paying half a piece of ore as a "ticket," Blood Pupil entered this dilapidated place from the greedy gazes of the guards.

Blood Pupil's attire was very eye-catching at the moment. A high-strength ceramic combat suit was a unique symbol of Tucker's high-level hunters. Two large-caliber short-barreled hunting guns were in the gun bags on the outside of his legs. He also had a row of bullet belts hanging on his body. Although these things were not as useful as his fists, they were more convenient. Plus a beautiful desert motorcycle and the bulging luggage on it. Everyone looked at Blood Pupil like dire wolves, the kind that had been hungry for a year.

But Blood Pupil didn't care. He was more familiar with the rules of the apocalypse than most people, and he was more capable of implementing them. So he unceremoniously drove the motorcycle directly to the side of an oil tank, throwing half a bag of ore to the boss.

"Fill it up."

"Hey, kid. Your car is good," the boss said enviously, while skillfully climbing onto the oil tank and grabbing an oil pipe to connect to the motorcycle.

"..." Blood Pupil didn't speak, but took out a cigarette from his pocket and put it in his mouth, then lit it.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" The boss was startled. "Kid, you're crazy. This is an oil tank, you'll kill everyone."

Blood Pupil still ignored him, just took a deep puff of the cigarette, letting the nicotine-mixed smoke enter his lungs. Stimulating the cerebral cortex brought a burst of excitement. Then he looked at the boss.

"Any news about Shelter No. 8 recently?"

"Shelter No. 8?" The boss thought for a moment. "You mean the ruins in the west? Of course, a lot has happened there. It is said that a gang of bandits attacked there some time ago for the abandoned water treatment system. It was a lively fight. But in the end, they didn't expect to be completely wiped out."

"Wiped out?" This news surprised Blood Pupil a little. He knew about those bandits. In fact, it was because of those bandits wandering outside the shelter that he had decided to leave. But he didn't expect these guys to be completely wiped out. When did such a powerful guy appear in Shelter No. 8? In Blood Pupil's memory, no one in the shelter had that strength.

"Yes, they were completely wiped out," the boss said, still babbling, unaware of Blood Pupil's thoughts. "It is said that they were killed by a very powerful guy, a guy named Black Bear. That guy was originally just a small bandit leader in Shelter No. 8, but he got a set of armor from somewhere, and got involved with Kester, and his strength expanded greatly. He also repaired the water treatment system in the shelter. Now it is also a famous gathering point nearby, with a population of more than six thousand."

Black Bear!?

Hearing this name, Blood Pupil's hand shook, and a bit of ash fell, immediately scaring the boss to scream. Coming back to his senses, Blood Pupil smiled apologetically and put out the cigarette.

"Thank you, boss. This is your reward."

Blood Pupil threw another piece of ore over. Seeing the boss leave with a smile, he closed the motorcycle's fuel tank cap and walked into the depths of the gathering point. Along the way, many scantily clad women posed and flirted with him, but he didn't even bother to look at them.

There were many goods in the gathering point, and the prices were fair. Blood Pupil casually selected some level-three food and purified water here, and then found a hotel to settle down. While resting, Blood Pupil saw many burly men pointing and pointing at his motorcycle. He couldn't help but smile slightly.

He knew that he wouldn't be lonely on the way to Shelter No. 8.

Nothing happened overnight. Early the next morning, Blood Pupil packed his bags and set off. When leaving the gathering point, he saw many more motorcycles on both sides of the gate, and some tattooed, brawny men were waiting with red eyes. Seeing his appearance, these men smiled maliciously, revealing their white teeth. The guards of the gathering point next to them seemed not to see them.

Blood Pupil smiled coldly, stretched out a hand to them, made a shooting motion, and then drove the motorcycle roaring into the wasteland. Behind him, one by one, the provoked, bloodshot-eyed men howled and boarded their motorcycles, chasing him madly.

Compared with the speed of Blood Pupil's motorcycle, these men were obviously much slower, which made the distance between them greater and greater. But Blood Pupil seemed to have unskilled driving skills. Every time he was about to escape, he would slow down, making the men behind him excited as if they had been injected with chicken blood, howling non-stop.

In this chase and escape, they entered the depths of the wasteland in the blink of an eye. Seeing that there were no more troublesome caravans around, Blood Pupil turned the motorcycle around and stopped with a beautiful fishtail in a cloud of dust.

Looking coldly at the quickly approaching bandits, Blood Pupil took out the hunting gun and flicked off the safety with his thumb.

"A good group of laborers. I'm in luck."