Global Fog Survival

Chapter 111: Rich, But Not Very Rich

Colin sent out solution after solution, swiftly dispatching his ideas like a machine. Luckily, it was all conveyed through thought transmission; if he had to use a keyboard, his fingers might have broken by now. But some of these “wishes” from the special talents were truly bizarre…

[“…Perhaps, she wants a child of her own, fulfilling a long-lost desire to be a mother…”]

“Uh… this…” Colin’s expression turned odd. Even if the survivor built a good relationship with this special talent, progressing to that stage, it wasn’t like they could instantly get pregnant and have a baby… Besides, there might be reproductive isolation between people from different worlds…

Russell, for example, had spent the last six months hanging out with his three female servants—”maid,” “cook,” and “assassin”—but no children had come of it. No one had studied this; no one knew where the problem lay.

After a few seconds, Colin thought for a moment, “Why don’t you try calling her ‘Mom’…?” But that was just a random quip. He didn’t seriously consider sending that message. Instead, he suggested alternatives involving “pets” or “dolls” before finally sending the most extreme solution, just in case.

Regardless of how they felt about it, they needed to be mentally prepared for this scenario. Ultimately, what to choose was their business, as long as it didn’t escalate to a level-three special talent—everything was still manageable.

After a period of intense mental work, Colin felt mentally exhausted for the first time. Sanna, sitting beside him, wanted to give him a massage but feared disturbing his thoughts, so she occasionally boosted him with a buff, casting Winds of Revival.

Already over 300… Colin felt his brain overheating, his mental reserves severely depleted.

“Your boss’s head is smoking…” Russell whispered to Li Chou, munching on chocolate. On Colin’s head, the sweat turned into steam, faintly smoking.

But before Li Chou could respond, Russell continued, “Your boss’s ability is really something… He can even do this… And it doesn’t seem to have a cost, which makes it seem more like a skill… Heh, but I’ve never heard of a skill that can be used infinitely… You still say your boss isn’t cheating?”

Li Chou gave Russell a disdainful look. “Haven’t you heard of something called a ‘passive skill’?”

“Uh…” Russell was immediately stumped. It made sense… That explanation could indeed fit.

“Too bad if your boss were one of us from Gondor, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“Dream on. The boss is an Earthling.”

The two whispered for four hours straight. Finally, Colin stopped thinking, collapsed into his chair, drenched in sweat, panting heavily with an exhausted expression.

Today, amid his unrelenting thoughts, Colin realized for the first time that the human brain indeed has its limits. Especially when combined with continuous use of his hint system, his energy was draining even faster.

Now, Colin was horrified to find he couldn’t even remember his multiplication tables… “Are my brain cells dying?” he wondered, a bit scared. But thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

With Sanna’s massage and a few high-purity dark chocolate bars stolen from Russell, Colin slowly recovered. In these few hours, he had dealt with over 500 special talents, clearing out most of his private messages.

For each response, he detailed what the “wish” was and sent over the most extreme solution just in case.

Yet, for Colin, the most significant gain wasn’t how many problems he solved but gauging the current number of “special talents” summoned.

Judging by his reputation, at least a third of all special talents would seek him out for “diagnosis.” Estimating broadly, those 500 people could be tripled and then multiplied by ten for potential numbers… It was around ten thousand people.

That figure seemed large, but it was within an acceptable range. Even if all of them caused trouble, the impact wouldn’t be too significant.

It’s important to remember that during the Gondor civilization’s time, with 2 billion people and millions of regions, nearly every area had one or more special talents… That scenario, where numerous special talents collapsed into disasters, truly felt hopeless.

Moreover, Colin’s group was generally quite “poor,” with no funds for upgrades, so the threat from special talents was manageable.

“This must be the silver lining of being broke…” Colin thought, feeling conflicted.

If his side also had special talents in every region… It would be truly despairing.

Fortunately, their landing points didn’t overlap with the Gondor civilization. Otherwise, they would face not only Lord-level mutants but also disasters caused by large numbers of level-three or higher “special talents”…

Suddenly, thinking of something, Colin pulled out a parchment and sent a query to the base.

“Any progress on the new explosives?”

Recalling Russell’s words and the terrifying existence of “great miracles” in this world, Colin’s firepower anxiety flared up. He needed more firepower.

“Almost there, just a few more steps…” came the quick response from the other end of the scroll.

However, before Colin could ask for more details, the reply continued, “Boss, about the research funding here, we need some Fog Points to purchase system computing power optimization…”

Ugh… Colin’s head throbbed painfully. Just kill me already.

Why does everything cost money? Even though he’s the richest on the server, it feels like he’s more strapped for cash than on day one…

Meanwhile, as Colin nursed his headache, a group of survivors in his area found the sole “level-three territory” in their region by driving their armored vehicle.

“What a huge building…”

“So many people…”

“Wow, ten chariots and over a thousand people…”

“They even have cannons…”

The five lords on the tank were genuinely awestruck by the disparity. But just then, a series of chariots approached, surrounding them entirely.

“Stop immediately!” came a stern voice from one of the tanks. Several cannons aimed at them, poised to fire at the slightest sign of trouble.

“W-We mean no harm…” the survivors quickly replied.

“We’ve come to surrender!”

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