books44 Chapter 289 [Empire] Light, Heavy, Empty
Chapter 289 [Empire] Light, Heavy, Empty
Arriving at the previous mission hall, Nightingale distributed our gains this time.
Nightingale handed me an electronic card that recorded the mission completion status and distribution ratio, and sneered at my stunned expression: "It seems that you don't even understand the value of mercenary points?"
I ignored his teasing and looked down at the 30 newly added points on my wristband. The number seemed a bit abstract to me; I had no idea of its actual purchasing power. I only knew it was part of the mission reward, calculated separately from the cash reward.
"What can I do with these 30 points?" I raised my head and asked frankly.
Nightingale's lips curled up into a meaningful smile. "It depends on how you use it. The points system is an internal currency of the Mercenary Alliance. It has many uses. It mainly depends on what you need."
As he spoke, he took out his personal terminal, pulled up a points redemption list, and showed it to me:
Equipment and supplies: Regular weapon repair services are worth about 5 points, simple medical kits are worth 2 points, and C-level combat uniforms are worth 50 points or more...
Intelligence and Services: General interstellar route intelligence starts at 10 points, and hiring high-level mercenaries to assist in missions costs 100 points per hour...
Permits and Certifications: The registration fee for upgrading an individual mercenary's rank is 200 points, and the fee for team formation permission starts at 100 points...
Special transactions: Some limited-time resources and scarce items will be open for bidding and auction, and points are the only transaction unit.
I glanced at the list and gradually understood the importance of points.
"I understand." I nodded, already having some ideas in mind.
Nightingale looked at my expression and chuckled, "Don't underestimate these 30 points. A little bit adds up to a lot, and sometimes even a small point can save your life. You're a newbie, so save it for now. When you really need it, you'll know how valuable it is."
After we walked out the door, Nightingale approached me with a mysterious look on her face. "Hey, your ability is so interesting, why don't we just go out and catch some exotic beast cubs and sell them? They're really valuable."
I glanced at Nightingale. His tone sounded like he was joking, but his eyes were clearly flashing with a hint of temptation.
"Are you serious?" I raised an eyebrow.
Nightingale spread her hands and shrugged, her tone still relaxed. "Of course, I'm just helping you find a way. Capturing exotic beast cubs sounds dangerous, but with your contract skills, it's much easier for us than for others. It's practically like picking up money."
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, "Maybe I can even raise a few combat beasts and sell them to the big guys as private weapons, or just keep them to increase my combat power. These things are really hard to come by on the market!"
I calmly distanced myself a little and said in a flat voice, "It sounds wonderful, but unfortunately, this path doesn't appeal to me."
"Oh, don't you want to get rich?" Nightingale raised his eyebrows, obviously not expecting me to refuse so bluntly.
"Get rich?" I sneered, a hint of sarcasm in my tone. "Getting eaten by battle plants on the way to catch a monster cub, or being hunted to death by a monster mother? Leave that way of getting rich to others."
Nightingale laughed heartily, as if something had happened to her. But her eyes became more meaningful. "You're being too cautious, but that's not wrong. It's just that, when the opportunity comes, don't miss it. People like us have to learn to take risks, don't we?"
I ignored him and walked in my own direction. Behind me, the nightingale's voice floated over:
“One day, you will find that the safest path in the world is to walk through the most dangerous places!”
I didn't look back, just waved, thinking that I had listened to his "philosophy of life".
When I got home, I tossed the receipt for thirty points on the table, watching it lie there, like a meaningless piece of paper. The number felt strange and empty to me. It clearly symbolized "gain," but it couldn't suppress the lighthearted feeling of loss.
Is this what they call mercenary points? They're supposed to be the fruit of battle and hard work, but they don't feel tangible at all. Perhaps it's because they're not as tangible as money, or perhaps it's simply because I don't have a clue what these numbers mean.
"How boring." I chuckled to myself and casually stuffed the points receipt into my personal space. It was so light, almost weightless. Just like when Nightingale proposed it, every word of the hunting plan sounded unreal and unreal.
I collapsed on the sofa, staring at the ceiling in a daze, my mind turning over and over in my head what on earth I was doing.
Do these points really make sense?
What can I redeem once I've accumulated enough points? Better equipment, higher status, or, as Nightingale suggests, a shortcut to "making a fortune"? But can points or money truly fill the void in my heart?
Perhaps because I had just released the temporary contract, I could still feel the cub's soft fur against my palm. Its struggle, its fear, and the moment I bound it with the contract—all became an indelible memory.
This is what is called "business".
At the cost of the fear of innocent people, in exchange for a few light digital vouchers, I suddenly understood why these points made me feel empty, because they could not mask the absurdity that emerged from the depths of my soul.
After lying there for a while, I turned over and sat up, scratching my head. My heart felt a little tight, like I had swallowed cotton, heavy and unable to spit it out.
"Can I still expect to keep that broken seedling alive with these things?" I muttered to myself, with a hint of sarcasm in my tone.
Thinking of that pitifully small points list, I sneered: Sure enough, I haven't truly integrated into this world yet.
Maybe I came back late, and the man who was angry was not in the living room, so I was happy to have some free time.
I stood, holding onto the back of my chair, staring at the cold food on the table, hesitant to start. Normally, I'd just sit down and start eating, but now I was stuck on a simple question: should I eat or not?
The aroma of the food had long since dissipated, and the cold food, mixed with the barely perceptible chill in the air, seemed particularly desolate. I felt a wave of sarcasm in my heart. Was this also a form of pretentious indifference to the world? However, my hesitation wasn't due to my picky taste, but rather... him.
"If I eat, he'll be angry again; if I don't, I'll be hungry again tonight," I muttered to myself in a self-deprecating tone. Although the man who had taken the pills was no longer there, the meal seemed like his shadow, and his cold sarcasm could almost be heard in my ears.
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
His voice seemed to echo in my mind, and I couldn't help but frown. Even without anyone around, the memory seemed harsh.