Chapter 561: Aboveground Shelter 3
At eleven in the morning, Ronan Kendrick returned, and with him was Liam Sterling.
"It’s so much more comfortable in The Undercity," Liam Sterling said, an oxygen bag hanging from his neck. "After being outside for so long, my chest feels unbearably tight." He looked pale; he was likely suffering from oxygen deprivation.
"Where did you two go? How did you get so dusty?" Evelyn Ford asked, looking at them curiously. She helped Ronan Kendrick off with his coat and wiped his hair with a towel.
"We went to take inventory of the excavators. We’re building shelters, after all. They started laying the foundations this morning for a total of six shelters—for the base, Flumen, and the resettlement housing. All the young men have to work. Mr. Chase had me post an announcement. A lot of people signed up, but some were just trying to get out of work, wanting to show up for a free meal without lifting a finger. So now it’s mandatory. Six patrol teams were sent out this morning to keep watch. Any troublemakers are executed on the spot."
"There are always a few bad apples trying to spoil the bunch. Before, one of the managers was raising crocodiles and snakes at the base. The most disgusting part? He was feeding them dead bodies. The base has a crematorium specifically for incinerating corpses, but the guy found a loophole. He bribed the body collection team and had them send all the dead to his crocodile pond. He even specifically chose the bodies of people who hadn’t died of illness, afraid his crocodiles would get infected with a virus and become inedible. Later, his pond was poisoned, and all the crocodiles died. He suspected Mr. Chase was behind it and came to make a scene."
Ronan Kendrick’s expression was serene, as if he had nothing to do with the poisoning.
"The first time, the poisoning killed all the crocodiles. But he didn’t give up and got some snakes to raise instead. To his surprise, a few days later, they were poisoned a second time."
Ethan Dawson was the one behind the second poisoning. He was sipping his tea, and at the mention of it, he didn’t even bat an eye.
"Someone was pulling strings behind the recent protest, too. The management may have called a truce, but there are always those who want to stir up trouble. And look what happened—a stampede that killed over a hundred people. All the instigators were executed by firing squad. Even now, some people still don’t get it. They just spend their days on petty schemes. I’m exhausted from investigating this stuff every day."
Now that he was more familiar with everyone, Liam Sterling’s true nature began to show. He felt comfortable enough to openly complain about the base’s leadership and Rhys Chase.
"Liam Sterling, you’re just like the personal assistant to some overbearing CEO. All Mr. Chase has to do is give the orders, and you’re the one who has to carry them out."
If he weren’t afraid of Ronan Kendrick, Liam Sterling would have rushed over to give Evelyn Ford a hug. She understood him perfectly. Her words had spoken directly to his heart.
’Wasn’t that exactly what he was? A tireless little assistant?’ Rhys Chase only had to move his lips, and all the work became his. Earthquakes, thunderstorms, rain—no matter what, he had to complete the tasks Rhys Chase assigned.
Such is the sorrow of the working man.
"You shouldn’t be called Liam Sterling anymore. You should be Assistant Sterling."
"I knew it! I was wondering why my life is so hard—it’s because I have the wrong name," Liam Sterling tsk-tsked. "I should have been called Simon Sterling. It sounds so much better. Just hearing it makes you think of leisure."
"I have to get back to the office and report to Mr. Chase. I’m leaving now." After a glance at the time, Liam Sterling quickly got up and scurried off.
"Why doesn’t Mr. Chase hire a couple more assistants? Liam Sterling is so busy. The dark circles under his eyes are as bad as a panda’s."
"The more capable you are, the more you work. Liam Sterling is competent, so all the work is piled onto him."
"So, you see, a person can’t be too exceptional, but they can’t be terrible either. Being average is good enough," Quincy said, then proceeded to instill this grand philosophy in Zoe.
"We don’t aim to be the best, and we don’t aim to be the worst. Like the old saying goes, the path of moderation is the path to survival."
All eyes turned to Quincy. He straightened his spine and looked at everyone smugly. "This is my life’s philosophy. You should all take a page from my book."
"Don’t be a bad influence on the child."
Miles Vaughn shot Quincy a glare. He used to dislike Zoe, but the girl had really grown on him. She was obedient and smart, not the least bit coddled—unlike the single-minded Wyatt Vaughn, and certainly not unreliable like Quincy.
Quincy retorted indignantly, "It is great wisdom! Zoe, tell your uncle if what Daddy said is the truth."
Zoe nodded. "Yes, everything Daddy says is right."
That made Quincy even smugger.
"Alright, everyone go get some rest. We’ll go into the space to work this afternoon."
"I’m not tired, Evelyn," Ethan Dawson said. "I have a suggestion. It’s daytime now, so let us go into the space to work. We can come out at night to rest. That way, we can get our sleep schedules back to normal."
Ethan Dawson had a point. The others looked full of energy, too; Taylor Vance and Zion Lowell weren’t showing any signs of sleepiness. Seeing how motivated everyone was, Evelyn agreed.
After sending them into the space, Evelyn decided to give Ronan Kendrick a haircut. His hair had grown quite long, enough to be tied up in a small knot.
"You’ve been working so hard these past few days, always running around outside. Our room has a kitchen. I made some venison stew, you should eat some later."
Leaning against Evelyn’s chest, Ronan Kendrick let out a muffled "Mhm." He looked as if he’d been wronged while he was out and was now seeking comfort. Evelyn’s heart melted completely. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed his forehead.
Ronan Kendrick looked up at her, his eyes full of expectation. "I want you."
Evelyn...
"Ahem... It’s daytime. We can’t. I’ll go check on how the stew is doing."
Ronan Kendrick just stared at her. "Are you going to turn me down?"
Looking at the wounded expression in his eyes, the words of refusal died on her lips.
"I still have to cut your hair."
"Alright."
"The clothes and shoes from the last few days haven’t been washed."
"I’ll wash them."
"The venison is still stewing in the kitchen."
"We can eat later."
’His "later,"’ she thought, ’will probably be several hours from now.’
——
The tilled black soil was completely sown with wheat, and the miscellaneous items piled in the storage area had been organized.
The construction of the surface shelters was beginning to take shape. With each passing day, the air grew thinner. The patrol teams the base had sent to the mountain villages returned with terrible news: a large number of villagers in the surrounding area had died. The cause of death for all of them was sudden asphyxiation due to lack of oxygen.
The base had already distributed a batch of oxygen tanks, but it wouldn’t last long. Only by completing the shelters could they guarantee that more people would live.
Evelyn Ford and Ronan Kendrick collected a large number of empty oxygen cylinders and bags. There was an oxygen generator in her space, and once the black soil was fully sown, Evelyn planned to fill all the empty containers.
To overcome the great crisis of oxygen deprivation, everyone from the base, Flumen, and the resettlement housing—men and women, young and old—joined in the construction of the shelters.
One day, while everyone was eating in the dorm, Liam Sterling suddenly arrived.
"What’s wrong? You look terrible."
"Are you running low on oxygen tanks? Do you need us to contribute some?"
Liam Sterling waved his hand. "The pharmaceutical factory is ramping up production of oxygen tanks. The supply is keeping up for now."
"I just received a notice. People from Yarrow crossed our border. Fortunately, they were discovered by a patrol from the Southward Valen Base and were promptly eliminated."