Fifty thousand units of iron ore.
That was more iron than he had used in total since he first started building his train.
Chen Mang waved dismissively and left the stall. The price was far too high. He wouldn't be buying slaves anytime soon—that was a luxury he could only consider once his train was strong enough.
Besides, a lack of resources often wasn't due to a shortage of slaves, but the difficulty of finding mines in the wasteland. Even if you found one, the intermittent zombie hordes would give you a taste of hell on earth.
As he continued down the line, he discovered that the gathering sold all sorts of bizarre items. There were daily necessities like liquor and vacuum-packed snacks, as well as resources like copper ore, iron ore, and vehicle blueprints.
And then...
Chen Mang's gaze fell upon a stall where a woman knelt on the ground, her ankles bound by iron chains. She was surprisingly clean, her face done up in full makeup. Her clothes were exquisite, clearly chosen to make her presentable. She stood in stark contrast to the grimy, disheveled survivors of the apocalypse.
A wooden board beside her displayed two lines of text:
"A-list female celebrity, seeking a fateful encounter."Behind her were several other attractive women and three young men who had also been carefully groomed. They all looked very young and handsome—celebrities.
"..."
Chen Mang looked them over with a neutral expression. To be fair, the women were all quite beautiful. In the apocalypse, just having a full face of makeup was a game-changer, to say nothing of their natural good looks. Combined with their fame, they were indeed a rare commodity.
"Boss Mang..." Lao Zhu leaned in, a strange look on his face, and whispered, "Isn't that woman Ji Chuchu? The one who got super famous on that variety show before the apocalypse? Did the guy raid a pre-apocalypse film set or something?"
"The others were all main guests on that same show," he continued. "They were really popular back then. But I doubt he'll get a high price. No one's willing to spend that many resources on a woman. Unless he rents her by the hour... maybe some guys would be willing to pay for a taste."
"What's the price?" Chen Mang asked, tearing his eyes away from the women to address the vendor.
At the sound of his voice, the kneeling starlet, Ji Chuchu, looked up at him, her eyes filled with pitiful hope. She managed a heart-wrenching, bitter smile—a look designed to stir a man's protective instincts.
The train master sitting before the stall brightened instantly upon seeing the Dragon assault rifles in Biao Zi's arms. "Any blue-grade accessory blueprint will get her. If not, 50,000 units of iron or copper ore will do."
"Failing that," he added, "if you have any rare green-grade blueprints or special items, you can show me what you've got. We can negotiate. This is Ji Chuchu! Her dancing is top-class! She's worth the price!"
Chen Mang remained impassive. His gaze shifted to the young men behind her. "What about the men?"
"Their price is a bit lower," the vendor said earnestly. "I've been making sure they exercise every day, so they've kept in great shape. If you swing that way, brother, they'd be a perfect fit."
"And—" The vendor grabbed one of the young men from behind, yanked off his shirt to reveal a set of well-defined abs, and slapped them firmly. "Look at these abs! It took a lot of effort to maintain a physique like this in the apocalypse!"
"The price is steep," Chen Mang said after a moment's consideration, sighing lightly. "I'll keep looking." He turned and walked away. Had these people lost their minds, or was he the only one living in poverty? Fifty thousand units of iron ore? Why not ask for a hundred thousand while they were at it?
As soon as Chen Mang and his men left, the smile vanished from the vendor's face. He spun around and slapped Ji Chuchu across the face, his expression dark. "Didn't I tell you to look as pitiful as possible when a customer comes by? What the hell was that bitter smile? Are you trying to act in a tragedy? Your terrible acting hasn't improved one bit."
"I..." Ji Chuchu knelt there, tears welling in her eyes. "Lao Liu, I..."
"Lao Liu? It's 'Master Liu' to you! You think I'm still your manager? Someone you can order around?" The vendor slapped her again in a fit of rage. He then sat down, his chest heaving, his eyes flickering with frustration. Ji Chuchu was undoubtedly a premium product. An A-list celebrity should have fetched a handsome price. But here in the No Man's Wasteland, everyone's capabilities were limited. No one could afford her. He had been to every gathering, but he still hadn't managed to sell her.
Maybe I should head to Kunlun Mountain?
Kunlun Mountain was at the westernmost edge of the No Man's Wasteland. Resources were more abundant there, but so were the dangers. A Level 3 Cannibal Spider Matriarch, which would be a boss monster here, would be nothing more than a minor chieftain in a monster pack over there. The trains operating in that region were much stronger and could certainly afford his price.
But with his train's current strength, it would be a one-way trip. Besides, with such a huge power disparity, who would bother buying? They would just take her by force. He wouldn't even have the power to take them down with him.
Afterward, Chen Mang inquired about prices at a few other stalls.
A carton of cigarettes, for example, cost 200 units of iron ore.
Then there was the fitness equipment.
"Sir, let's think long-term," the vendor pitched enthusiastically. "How do you get your slaves to mine more resources each day? A strong body is essential, isn't it? You buy these barbells and treadmills, set up a dedicated fitness car, and have your slaves work out for a few hours after they finish mining. Over time, won't that drastically increase their mining efficiency? This whole package is only 1,000 units of iron ore. My men went through a lot of trouble to haul this stuff out of the city ruins. It's practically brand new. If you're interested, the price is negotiable."
"..."
Chen Mang stared at the babbling salesman as if he were an idiot. His eyes fell to the paperback book at the vendor's feet: The Ultimate Guide to Closing Sales. After a moment of silence, he slowly walked away.
Were this man complete morons? A treadmill was huge and heavy. How on earth did they manage to lug it from the city ruins onto a train? Pure brute force?
He was starting to get it. This gathering sold everything. When there were no mines to dig, many train masters would scavenge in the ruins for items to trade for iron ore. The problem was, you never knew if what you found would be useful. If you stumbled upon hard currency like tobacco, it was easy to cash in. But if you ended up with a bunch of barbells, you'd need some serious sales skills—or you'd have to pray you ran into a fool.
In an apocalyptic environment like this, even the god of sales would have a hard time selling a comb to a bald monk.
Unless, of course, the monk was an idiot.