Tomorrow had arrived.
The Infected in the camp awoke from their slumber and immediately threw themselves back into the construction effort with renewed enthusiasm.
Mo also woke up.
It had perhaps been the most comfortable sleep he had ever experienced in this land.
But there was no point immersing himself in sweet dreams.
Countless challenges were still waiting for him to resolve.
Ursus had a notorious department—the Infected Investigation Team.
They were the Inquisitors who hunted down the Infected throughout Ursus.
Greedy and cold-blooded, they did not belong to the Army and were often despised even by Ursus soldiers and city officials.
Originally, they had merely been a department created to enforce Ursus’s policies toward the Infected.
However, after years of operating in places where the mountains were high and the Emperor was far away, these greedy and corrupt dregs gradually realized that they had become the very embodiment of Ursus itself.
As a result, they were no longer satisfied with exploiting the Infected.
Instead, they began treating all civilians as targets for exploitation, labeling anyone who dared to resist them as Infected so they could plunder them without restraint.
They swarmed through the countryside like a plague of locusts.
The people of Ursus called these dregs “black-clad, black-armored vermin.”
Both the Infected and ordinary civilians loathed and feared them.
Perhaps this was the one place where Ursus civilians and the Infected were truly equal.
How ironic.
The Inquisitors were numerous enough to resemble a swarm of locusts, spreading across every corner of Ursus.
As soon as the camp was completed, these vermin would quickly catch its scent and come swarming over.
Just thinking about it was disgusting.
If this were an ordinary camp, the residents would probably have no choice but to find ways to appease those vermin for the sake of survival.
But this was an Infected camp.
From the moment it was established, compromise had never been an option.
In Ursus, it was almost impossible for an Infected camp to survive.
They could not contend with the Ursus Infected Patrol Squad, let alone the Gendarmerie, city garrisons, or the soldiers serving the nobility.
But here, there was a Wendigo.
As for how to protect the camp, Mo already had a plan.
At the very beginning of construction, Mo had used certain methods to minimize the visibility of cooking smoke as much as possible.
This made the camp less conspicuous, reducing the chances of detection by the Infected Patrol Squad and buying them valuable time to complete the construction.
Don’t ask what methods he used.
Just know that Terra’s technology was awe-inspiring.
Once the basic infrastructure was complete, Mo led the residents in excavating underground shelters.
Ordinary walls were meaningless against the Ursus Army.
Only by taking advantage of the permafrost beneath the ice plains could they hope to protect the residents’ lives.
That being said, Mo still constructed an ordinary perimeter wall around the camp. This story is hosted at g.com.
Its purpose was mainly to block the enemy’s line of sight and prevent them from directly observing the camp’s activities.
To establish a reliable base, Mo had truly racked his brains.
The physical condition of the Infected was generally poor after years of suffering, and they possessed very few weapons.
The only thing they could really rely on was the Originium Arts of the Infected.
Even if their Arts were not particularly powerful, combining their abilities and training them to work together might at least give them a fighting chance.
Though they probably couldn’t handle a second world war.
After all, a certain legendary figure who had gone completely senile once said:
“There are no useless **, only useless **.”
Feeling bad for the Master for three seconds.
“Big Daddy, Uncle Roman and the others are back. He asked me to come get you.”
Heh.
Daddy?
Like the guy who runs the antique shop?
Welcome to Uncle’s Antiques.
We have the legendary 50/50 Master Jackie Chan, the invincible little girl Jade, the super-heavy magic tank Tohru, and Uncle, who rides Shendu to work.
If I’m not mistaken, turn right out the door and you’ll find the safest toilet in the world.
Laughing.
The speaker was a very young Ursus child named Ivan.
As for the nickname “Daddy,” who knew which kid had come up with it?
It was ridiculous.
Mo felt completely helpless whenever the children called him that.
Daddy…
Was he planning to make Mo chant, “Yu Mo Gwai Gwai Fai Di Zao”?
Even his input method recognized those words.
Thinking about it, Mo could only laugh it off in the end.
Ivan was not Infected.
He had followed his family here.
Mo liked this warm, kind, brave, and determined child very much and often kept him by his side.
Ivan, in turn, loved clinging to this big guy.
Over time, he had naturally become Mo’s little messenger.
“Alright. Take me there.”
Mo put down the tools in his hands and stood up from the construction site.
Unbelievable.
“Work, work, work, work… The industrious and brave Weak Rabbit Head. For the team’s crucial Iron Farm, he made a great contribution, a great sacrifice, a great carry. Invincible, invincible…”
“Big Daddy, what are you singing? I can’t understand it at all.”
Ivan skillfully climbed onto Mo’s broad shoulder, utterly confused by the Rabbit Head’s muttering.
“This? This is called the Song of the God-Man’s Resilience. It was composed by a great senior while he was pouring concrete. Good lyrics don’t need a specific tune.”
“Really? Can you teach me?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Aww, why not…”
“As expected, you only say a few extra words when talking to children. Being a mute all day long—what kind of behavior is that?”
Amid their banter, Mo arrived beside the caravan.
Roman was leaning against a car door, wearing sunglasses and striking an exceptionally flashy pose as he greeted Mo.
Mo looked at him.
He silently stared for several seconds.
Then he reached out and covered Ivan’s eyes.
“Spit it out.”
“Tsk. No appreciation for aesthetics at all. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”
Roman removed his sunglasses, and his expression immediately became exceptionally solemn.
“After all, it’s time to talk about the bad news we gathered on this trip.”
“According to my intelligence, those vermin will be passing through our area soon. At this distance, our camp will definitely be discovered by them. How are the preparations coming along?”
After explaining the situation, Roman stared seriously at the thoughtful Mo.
“Big Daddy, it’s your turn.”
Ivan, still sitting on Mo’s shoulder, reached up and patted his face, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Mo picked the brat up by the back of his clothes, set him on the ground, and shooed him toward another area.
Only then did he begin explaining the camp’s current situation to Roman.
“The camp’s defensive facilities are preliminarily complete, and the coordination of their Originium Arts has mostly been trained. If it’s only the Infected Patrol Squad, then as long as they can overcome their fear of those vermin, they should be able to deal with them even without my intervention.”
Roman raised an eyebrow.
He looked earnestly into Mo’s eyes.
After confirming the determination in them, he finally let out a long sigh of relief.
“With your cautious personality, for you to say something like that means there really is hope.”
“Good luck. I hope our efforts won’t be in vain. The Infected have to learn to stand on their own two feet rather than relying on us.”
“They will succeed.”
Mo’s gaze was firm.
“I believe in them.”