Chapter 74 Perfect Timing
Iris also exempted Sophie from taxes as a form of salary, hardly taking advantage of a child.
In an era of scarce resources, everyone had to pull their weight.
In the small base she’d belonged to in her previous life, children worked like adults and adults like slaves. No special protection existed for the young or elderly; those without labor ability were cast out without a second thought.
Bases tolerated no useless burdens–children included.
Yet compared to other bases, the workload at Midsummer Base would make outsiders scramble to join.
Chaos reigned elsewhere: swarms of refugees, crippling food shortages, and resource crunches left most fighting just to get a bite to eat.
Here, children had tasks to do and points to earn–a veritable paradise, a sanctuary in the apocalypse.
Under her arrangement, land near the villa area was reclaimed, with high–yield, fast–growing crops planted.
Everyone threw themselves into production, and the base finally got on track.
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Its prosperity level jumped by 30 points, turning the “Rural Hamlet” into a more solid settlement.
Once crops were harvested and resources circulated, the prosperity level would climb even higher.
After two days of nonstop building and management, Iris finally caught her breath–only to confront a critical shortage:
manpower.
Logan alone was overwhelmed.
He already struggled to maintain the bunker, now waking an hour earlier to clean every corner inside and out.
Vegetables in the garden awaited harvesting, fruit trees began bearing fruit, and he still handled cooking, cleaning, and
occasional trips to the residential area at Iris‘ behest. He worked harder than a draft horse.
He worked harder than a draft horse.
Even with radar and drones automatically eliminating wandering zombies, the two of them could barely keep up.
Just then, a cold mechanical voice echoed in Iris‘ mind.
“Ding–Supreme Lord System activated. Capture the United Pharmaceutical R&D Factory in Aster City’s West. Red: 11:02
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Iris‘ eyes lit up.
Perfect timing, like a pillow appearing when she was sleepy.
The system rarely issued tasks, but everyone was a game–changer.
“Logan! Let’s move out!”
“Yes!”
Logan, who was washing dishes, rinsed them hastily, stood up without hesitation, grabbed his gear, and headed for the door.
Iris‘ words were absolute orders–no questions, just execution.
After uploading the map to her armored vehicle, Iris took eight combat dogs with her and left Summer and seven others to guard the bunker.
Their destination: the United Pharmaceutical R&D Factory at the junction of western Aster City, Briarfield City, and Cerebo City.
A two–and–a–half–hour drive brought them to the factory by
noon.
Secluded, it stood alone as a six–story white building, sungounded by empty land for miles.
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Its entrance security facilities looked cutting–edge, yet the place was utterly deserted.
Something about it tugged at Iris‘ memory—United Pharmaceutical R&D Factory.
She was certain she’d heard the name before.
“Iris, is this the place?” Logan asked, stopping at the open gate—
an odd detail, as if someone had been there recently.
Iris frowned deeply, racking her brain for where she’d encountered the name.
She was sure of one thing: she’d never visited here in either lifetime.
“Yeah. Let’s go in.”
At her words, Logan drove slowly through the gate,
Alert as ever, Iris had him circle the building first to map the layout–exits, key positions, and escape routes,
She never rushed in blindly; strength didn’t justify recklessness.
A full circuit yielded clear details: only one entrance, the front
gate.
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Six floors rose above ground, but a sign nearby indicated an underground garage—likely a parking lot.
As a seasoned apocalypse survivor, Iris avoided underground areas first.
Narrow spaces and dim lighting made such places high–risk, and exploration should proceed from simple to complex.
Securing manageable areas first before tackling dangers prevented being trapped underground, only to find new threats. above ground upon escape.
After two laps to confirm safety, Iris parked the armored vehicle at the front door.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
