Highway Survival: My Wuling Hongguang was crammed full of school beauties

Chapter 19: One day's resources for one tank of oil!

"Clang!"

With a muffled thud, the modified sedan lurched, its front end swerving to the side; the attempt to cut in had failed. The driver's side window immediately rolled down, and a young man with dyed blond hair and a menacing expression leaned out, cursing loudly:

"Fuck your mother! Are you blind?! Can't you even drive? You dare to ram my car? Do you even know how much this car cost to modify?"

Cao Shuang remained expressionless, not even bothering to roll down the car window. He'd seen plenty of this kind of person.

The passenger window was suddenly rolled down, and an old woman with curly hair, high cheekbones, and a sharp tongue stuck her head out, her fingers almost poking Cao Shuang's window. Her shrill, piercing voice instantly drowned out the surrounding noise:

"Ouch! You're going to die! You bastard! How do you drive? Didn't you see we were coming in? Don't you know anything about respecting the elderly and caring for the young? I'm an old man with a sore back from sitting in the car, and I wanted to catch up and rest. What are you doing blocking my way, you little brat? Don't you have any manners? Huh?"

Spit sprayed almost through the car window onto Cao Shuang's face. Chu Yao was startled by this sudden outburst of shrewish cursing and instinctively shrank back.

Cao Shuang finally slowly lowered the car window, his cold gaze sweeping over the old man and the young man.

The old woman was momentarily stunned by his gaze, but then she launched into an even more vehement tirade:

"What are you looking at? I'm talking to you! What are you glaring at me for? You have no manners at all! My son is a good driver, so what if he wants to fill up the gas tank faster? What are you so arrogant about driving a beat-up Wuling? Let me tell you, I'm a native of Shanghai! Where I'm from, people like you with no manners from out of town..."

"Mom, forget it, forget it, why bother arguing with someone who drives a beat-up car?"

Seeing Cao Shuang's increasingly cold gaze, the blond-haired son felt a chill run down his spine. Noticing the clearly impressive crash bar on the front of Cao Shuang's car, his tone softened. He pulled his still-arguing mother aside and muttered:

"There seems to be a gap ahead, let's find another spot."

"Hmph! You're lucky!"

Grandma Li glared at Cao Shuang, muttering vulgarities like "outsider scoundrel" and "ill-mannered" before rolling up the car window.

The modified sedan reluctantly reversed slightly, then turned the steering wheel, spotted a small truck in front that was in even worse condition and whose driver looked honest and unassuming, and swerved sharply to squeeze into the lane.

The truck driver seemed to want to argue, but seeing the fierce appearance of the mother and son, and looking at his own dilapidated truck, he finally swallowed his anger and stepped back to make way.

They bully the weak and fear the strong to the extreme.

Cao Shuang sneered and rolled up the car window again. "These kinds of people were troublemakers before the apocalypse; after the apocalypse, they'll be among the first to die."

He said to Chu Yao, who was still somewhat shaken, "Don't worry about it."

The convoy continued to crawl forward at a snail's pace. The closer they got to the heart of the gas station, the more murky the air became, filled with a complex, unpleasant smell.

The pungent smell of cheap fuel, the stench of sweat and excrement, and... a faint, rusty, bloody smell.

Cao Shuang wrinkled his nose, his gaze sharpening as he looked ahead. As the vehicle slowly moved, the gas station gradually came into focus.

The nearly one thousand silver-gray gas stations were divided into several relatively independent areas by the chaotically parked vehicles and large crowds, with some kind of invisible boundary between them, clearly distinct.

On the outskirts of these areas, there were scattered vehicles of people like him, waiting in line or looking around blankly, like hyenas surrounding the dens of several beasts, anxious and fearful.

Something was wrong; Cao Shuang became wary.

He opened the regional channel again. He had previously blocked most of the messages because he was in a hurry and observing the road conditions. Now, he opened it again, ignoring the meaningless complaints and cries for help, and quickly searched for the keywords "gas station", "gas grabbing", and "occupying".

Soon, a flood of messages filled with anger, despair, and curses came into view:

"Damn it! A few groups of people have taken over the gas station! They won't let you fill up anywhere!"

"What kind of bullshit 'freight gang' is this! They're just a bunch of highway robbers! They demand a whole day's worth of supplies for gas! It's highway robbery!"

The "Bus Alliance" is even worse! They charge per person! Our family of three has to pay three times!

"The special forces convoy isn't that greedy, but they only give bonuses to people within their own circle, or they trade them for weapons or high-end spare parts!"

"Those rich kids in the supercar club don't forcibly buy supplies, but if you want them to do you a favor, you have to trade them for beautiful women or rare items! Damn it!"

"Reasoning? What kind of reasoning is that! I saw with my own eyes someone who refused to hand over supplies get severely beaten and thrown out by the 'Freight Gang'! Their truck was smashed!"

"Four groups divided up the thousand fuel stations! The freight gang took two hundred, the bus alliance took three hundred, special vehicles and supercars each took more than two hundred, and the remaining scattered ones were taken by their underlings or people with connections!"

"Is this some kind of life-or-death situation? We finally made it this far..."

"Weren't there official people on the regional channel before? Come out and do something about it!"

"Control? Who controls? The game only cares about distributing the oil, not how it's distributed! Now, whoever has the biggest fist and the most powerful weapon is the rule!"

Although the information was disorganized, when pieced together, the situation became clear.

Just as Cao Shuang predicted, the opening of gas stations did not bring order and hope, but instead gave rise to new and more blatant violent monopolies and class divisions.

"Freight Gang" is composed of drivers who work in freight transportation before and after the apocalypse, randomly assigned to various types of trucks. They are ruthless and tightly knit.

Leveraging the intimidating presence of heavy vehicles and their sheer numbers, they seized control of the oil piles closest to the entrance, where oil flow was high, and openly charged "tolls."

"Bus Alliance" is composed of a large number of players who randomly get buses and minibuses. It has the largest number of players and the largest vehicle space, but the individual combat strength may be average.

They employed a strategy of "mass manpower" and "economies of scale," monopolizing another area of ​​oil wells and charging equally high fees.

The "Special Vehicle Team" consists of members who are randomly assigned to special vehicles such as engineering vehicles, rescue vehicles, and even a few armored cash transport vehicles. These vehicles are highly defensive and have the potential for modification.

They were of medium size, but well-equipped and relatively well-organized, monopolizing a section of oil piles for their own use or for high-end transactions.

"Supercar Club" is, as the name suggests, a group of players who randomly get sports cars and performance cars and have accumulated a lot of resources in the early stages by virtue of their speed advantage.

They are the smallest in number, but their individual strength (vehicles and supplies) is probably the strongest. They occupy a section of oil piles and their style of doing things is more "elitist" and "picky".

The four factions divided up the vast majority of refueling resources. The remaining solo players either had to obediently hand over their precious survival supplies in exchange for refueling opportunities, or they had to curry favor with one of the factions to seek "favors".

Either... they can only wait in despair, or risk attacking the few remaining oil piles that are occupied by scattered individuals but could be seized at any time.

The law of the jungle prevails, and resources are concentrated in one place. The opening of gas stations has not brought fairness; instead, it has accelerated the division among the survivors.