Chapter 238 - 138: Market Signal

Chapter 238: Chapter 138: Market Signal

After his patrol ended that afternoon, Xu Mo didn’t head straight back to his small courtyard. He took a detour, walking toward the still-bustling hall of the Hunter’s Guild.

This had almost become a recent habit of his. It wasn’t to accept missions, but to use this information hub to get a glimpse into the subtle shifts in the recent operations of the massive machine that was Jiang City.

Crowds of people still milled about in front of the giant electronic screens and notice boards, the air filled with a noisy din. Xu Mo’s gaze swept quickly over the scrolling mission lists.

The most prominent were, as always, the overwhelming number of construction-related missions.

[F-Rank] Transport prefabricated concrete slabs, East Second Ring Road construction site. Daily payment, one meal provided.

[F-Rank] Assist in leveling foundations. Must bring your own tools. Contribution Points awarded by area.

[E-Rank] Wall-pouring assistant. Requires a certain level of physical strength. Long-term preferred...

These missions offered low pay, but their sheer number and simple requirements made them the primary channel for the "New Home" project to continuously absorb low-level labor.

They were like the capillaries of a great beast, continuously channeling the most basic manpower to the construction front lines.

Besides those, Xu Mo saw that the second most numerous missions were cleanup tasks.

[D-Rank] Clear wandering zombies in Area H6 on the outskirts of the Red Star Industrial Zone. Team recommended. Cleanup report required.

[C-Rank] Purge suspected zombies in the abandoned factory district of the Western Suburbs. Presence of a Tier-1 mutated zombie. High risk. Heavy firepower recommended...

These missions were mostly centered around a few known, stubborn areas with relatively frequent zombie activity, especially in the direction of the Red Star Industrial Zone. The mission ranks and rewards were a cut above the construction tasks, attracting Hunter teams with combat experience who were eager to earn Contribution Points faster.

Judging from the frequency and location of the posted missions, Jiang City’s "suppression" and purification of the surrounding areas was still proceeding in an orderly fashion. However, there seemed to be no signs of any new large-scale threats erupting.

As for the rest, they were scattered exploration, reconnaissance, and small-scale material recovery missions, as well as the occasional special mission labeled "Assist the Research Department," which often had demanding and vague requirements.

Overall, the composition of the mission list hadn’t fundamentally changed compared to the recent past. Construction was the absolute main theme, cleanup was the routine support, and exploration and special missions were interspersed throughout.

This also confirmed Xu Mo’s previous assessment. In the current phase of pushing forward with the "New Home" construction after the successful satellite launch, Jiang City’s strategic focus remained firmly anchored in internal consolidation and expansion. Externally, it maintained a stable defensive and monitoring posture, showing no signs of rushing into large-scale exploration or actively provoking conflict.

’Looks like, on the surface at least, everything still revolves around construction and farming,’ Xu Mo thought. He felt a little relieved, yet a faint, indescribable doubt lingered—did this calm mean a bigger storm was brewing in the distance?

Leaving the noisy hall of the Hunter’s Guild, the scorching air hit him in the face. Xu Mo didn’t go home right away. Instead, he turned into a relatively quiet alley.

Deep in the alley was a small, dated-looking restaurant. The wooden sign hanging by the door was bleached white by the sun, with the words "Old Chen’s Home-cooked Dishes" written on it in faded paint.

Xu Mo had stumbled upon it while wandering around a few days ago. The owner was supposedly an old chef from before the cataclysm, with good skills and prices that were considered fair in the apocalypse. ℯℯ𝘭.

After days of eating nothing but dry rations and compressed biscuits, Xu Mo’s mouth felt utterly bland. Although that food provided the necessary energy, his numb taste buds and the monotony in his stomach needed an occasional change of pace.

Pushing open the door, Xu Mo felt a wave of hot air rush out, a mixture of cooking fumes, old wood, and the faint smell of food. The shop wasn’t large, with seven or eight square tables set up. At the moment, three or four tables were occupied.

A middle-aged man who looked like both the owner and the waiter was leaning against the counter, fanning himself. He merely lifted an eyelid when he saw Xu Mo walk in.

Xu Mo found an empty seat by the window and picked up the greasy, laminated menu from the table.

As his eyes scanned it, Xu Mo’s brows furrowed slightly.

Behind the originally printed dish names on the menu, many had been covered with handwritten, crooked paper strips indicating they were sold out.

The meat dishes, in particular, were almost completely wiped out. "Braised Pork Belly," "Twice-cooked Pork," "Spicy Diced Chicken"... one after another, they were all crossed out with a red pen or marked as ’Sold Out.’

Most of what remained were vegetarian dishes: "Stir-fried Bean Sprouts," "Mapo Tofu (limited minced pork)," "Garlic Water Spinach," and "Stir-fried Greens." Flipping to the drinks and snacks section, the most expensive item was shockingly "Fried Peanuts," and its price was even higher than some of the vegetable dishes.

Xu Mo glanced at the other tables. At one, two burly men in work clothes with sweat-stained faces were hunched over a nearly empty plate of Mapo Tofu and a dish of stir-fried greens, wolfing down their food. Another table held three men who looked like small-time merchants. Their meal was slightly more substantial: a plate of eggplant with minced pork where the pork was clearly sparse, a dish of stir-fried bean sprouts, and a small saucer of fried peanuts—and there really weren’t many peanuts, just a shallow layer covering the bottom of the dish.

The alcohol they were drinking wasn’t from the restaurant either; it was from a plastic flask they had brought themselves, its label faded and blurry.

Resigned, Xu Mo could only order the "Eggplant with Minced Pork"—the sole survivor on the menu that had a hint of meat—and added a "Stir-fried Bean Sprouts" and a "Garlic Water Spinach."

While waiting for his food to arrive, Xu Mo’s mind began to wander.