The next morning, the three of them went out with bamboo baskets.
Their neighbor’s door also opened, and May Grant and Holly Grant emerged, each carrying a bamboo basket on their back.
“Going foraging?
Perfect, let’s go together.” As soon as May Grant finished speaking, Holly Grant tugged on her clothes from behind.
Seeing this, Mandy Donovan smiled and said, “Sure.”
Going to the foraging area together often meant competing for resources.
Holly Grant was worried that her neighbors would snatch whatever her family found.
“You’re going foraging today?”
“That’s right, we’re going to check out the foraging area.” ‘Her real purpose was to dig up low-contamination, plantable soil, but there was no need to tell neighbors she barely knew that.’ Mandy Donovan introduced the two brothers to Holly and May Grant.
“These are my two husbands, Gary and Etta.”
May Grant knew her daughter was afraid Mandy’s family would compete with them for resources.
She chuckled and said, “Oh, so they’re brothers.
I was wondering why they look exactly the same—”
Holly Grant tugged on her clothes again and, before May Grant could say more, quickly interjected, “Uh—neighbors, we have to go see my dad first.
You all can go ahead!”
“Huh?
Aren’t we going foraging?
Since when did I say I wanted to see your dad?” May Grant was pulled back toward their house by her daughter.
“I miss Dad, so you have to go see him,” Holly Grant insisted, leaving no room for argument.
“We see Dad first, then we forage.”
“We’ll get going then, Aunt Grant.
We’ll find you later.” ‘She still needed May Grant to get to the Black Market.’ Mandy Donovan pretended not to notice the unhappy look on Holly Grant’s face, took one man by each hand, and walked away quickly.
Behind them, May Grant was also displeased.
“Holly Grant, they’re our neighbors.
Besides, when you go foraging together, it’s every person for themselves.
Why are you being so petty?”
“You don’t even know them!
For all you know, they could be saints or devils,” Holly Grant said, gripping May Grant’s hand tightly.
“If they were really good people, I wouldn’t say a word.
But is it appropriate to be so trusting when you barely know them?
If you’re that desperate to do good deeds, I’ll just call my brother back here.”
A shadow fell over May Grant’s eyes.
“Your brother…
he’s worse than a stranger.”
The mother and daughter walked off into the distance, still bickering.
Henry Grant stood inside the house with an awkward expression.
‘Should I go to work or not?’
Mandy Donovan didn’t let the little episode bother her.
‘They don’t have any ill intent, so I’m happy to coexist peacefully.
If they did, I’d just have to be on my guard.’
A tent was set up by the side of the requisitioned water hole.
Members of the Defense Force were patrolling the perimeter.
Someone was reinforcing the mouth of the well.
The pit had officially become a proper well.
On the other side, a line of transients stretched out so far it was impossible to see the end.
“Why are there so many people?” And they were all transients!
Etta Moore grabbed Gary Moore and Mandy Donovan, even pulling them back a step.
“Don’t go over there!
Let’s just go to the foraging area!”
“We’re not going over there,” Mandy Donovan said, patting Etta Moore’s head.
“Do you think if the three of us were standing where those Defense Force soldiers are, these transients would be lining up so obediently?”
A few of the Defense Force soldiers, who had looked vaguely familiar, were now bruised and swollen.
If Mandy Donovan hadn’t met their eyes, she wouldn’t have even recognized them as the men she’d seen yesterday.
‘It seems something really did happen after we left yesterday!’
“Take another look—”
She had Etta Moore look at the soldiers’ faces.
She pulled the two of them toward the foraging area.
“See?
Now you understand the benefit of the well not being in our hands, right?”
“I just couldn’t bear to part with it.
It’s a water well, after all,” Etta Moore said.
He looked at the battered faces of the soldiers and couldn’t help but gulp.
The Defense Force soldiers were big and burly, while he, his brother, and Mandy were all slight of frame.
“…Let’s just go forage!”
Mandy Donovan laughed.
“This is what they call ‘discretion is the better part of valor.’ Possessions are meaningless.
Only by staying alive can you truly have anything.
Once you’re dead, it doesn’t matter what you wanted to fight for.
Someone else will just loot it from your corpse.”
In the foraging area, a few scattered people were digging for something.
“Let’s dig!” After choosing a spot with no one around, Mandy Donovan picked up a shovel and started digging.
As far as the eye could see, there was only yellow sand on the surface, with no sign of any mutated plants.
‘She had originally suspected that the mutated plants here might be camouflaged, but apparently not!’
The three of them dug with shovels and their bare hands, finally unearthing a few egg-sized tubers from deep in the ground.
Gary Moore tested one with his wristband.
DING!
[Mutated Potato, Moderate Contamination, Edible]
“It’s edible!” Etta Moore, who had already dug a fairly deep pit, reached in and pulled out a large cluster of mutated potatoes.
“I’ve got a whole bunch over here!”
Gary Moore made a shushing gesture, but it was too late.
Someone heard Etta Moore’s voice and started walking in their direction.
“Use your head!” Gary Moore smacked Etta Moore on the head.
He tightened his grip on his shovel, nervously watching the approaching person.
“I forgot,” Etta Moore said, regretting his outburst immediately.
He quickly stuffed the mutated potatoes he’d dug up into their bamboo basket.
He and his brother stared intently at the approaching person.
“Mandy, get behind us.”
Mandy Donovan had also dug up some mutated potatoes.
They were very small, with the largest being only the size of an egg.
She fiddled with her wristband and ran the test again.
[Mutated Potato, Moderate Contamination, 1 Point/500g, Not on the Official Procurement List]
The person the brothers were watching so intently didn’t approach them.
Instead, he chose an empty spot a short distance away.
“The official rate is just one point per 500 grams.
No wonder nobody’s digging these,” Mandy said.
“Let’s go dig up some soil.
We’ll plant these at home.” Tossing the mutated potatoes into the basket, she lost all interest in the foraging area.
As soon as the three of them left, the man from before immediately came over to the spot where they had found things and continued digging.
Before long, he’d unearthed a small pile of mutated potatoes.
He was ecstatic, and his digging quickened considerably…
Leaving the foraging area, Mandy Donovan casually found another spot.
“Start digging!”
Not far away, the bruised-and-battered Defense Force soldiers and the orderly line of transients all paused to watch the three of them dig in the dirt.
They scraped away the yellow sand on the surface, revealing the yellow soil underneath.
Gary Moore tested it with his wristband.
DING!
[Yellow Soil, Low Contamination, Plantable]
“We’ll dig this up.
Just put it right on top of the mutated potatoes.” ‘This ordinary, plantable yellow soil was nowhere near as good as the humus she had collected in her secret base, but that was something she couldn’t bring out in public.’ Mandy Donovan settled for second best, not turning her nose up at the inferior soil.
“Here to dig another well today?” one of the bruised Defense Force soldiers asked, squatting nearby and watching them.
“Wells aren’t that easy to dig.
I just want to get some soil to take back and see if I can grow something.
This soil is low-contamination; it seems like a waste not to plant in it,” Mandy Donovan replied.
“I’ll just plant the mutated potatoes.”
The soldier squatted down and tested the yellow soil himself.
“How much do you need?
We can bring it to you when we get off duty.
This soil—”
“You’re requisitioning this too, aren’t you?” Mandy Donovan cut him off.
“Just send 50kg to my place.
You can do what you want with the rest.”
“It’s not that *we* want it,” the Defense Force soldier said sheepishly.
He could tell from the well requisition yesterday that the three of them were resentful.
There was no precedent for requisitioning a water well.
Etta Moore muttered under his breath, “There’s dirt everywhere.
Why do they always have to pick on us?”
The soldier’s face flushed crimson, and he stammered out an explanation, “N-no, it’s not like that…”