Chapter 182: A Stirring Base

Chapter 182: Chapter 182: A Stirring Base

The wind was warm and dry as Liora stepped out from the house, the sunlight casting long slants through the leaves that rustled softly in the afternoon breeze.

The base had a strange stillness to it—a quiet murmur of distant voices, tools clinking, and the smell of stew thick in the air, but nothing chaotic. Still, something had changed.

The sudden earthquake from earlier had shaken more than just the ground. It had rattled nerves, stirred old fears, and fractured the thin calm the residents had painstakingly built since settling in this new base.

Liora glanced around. The house was empty. Zhou Yinuo and little Eli had already gone out, probably tending to their usual work. Everyone else had scattered across the base, busy with whatever jobs they’d taken up. No one was idle anymore.

She followed the sound of hammering and the clatter of wooden planks, drawn toward the western edge of the base.

A group of men were hard at work building a temporary warehouse, their movements precise despite the crude materials. Wood, rope, nails scavenged from who knew where—they worked like villagers from an ancient time, constructing a skeletal structure meant to last just long enough.

"Store it all before the weather changes again," Liang Zihan shouted as he secured a thick wooden beam into place.

"Just don’t let the rope snap again," Chen Wei muttered, rubbing a fresh splinter from his palm.

They were building it to store wheat grains—an abundant harvest from their last expedition. It was a lucky find, but it had left them with a problem they hadn’t yet solved.

"We can’t grind it down manually," Yang Ming complained, tossing down a half-filled sack. "Not unless we want to break our backs."

Liora moved closer, listening quietly as the conversation unfolded.



"They tried exchanging it at the canteen terminal," Chen Wei added, "but it only accepted it as grain—no flour processing option. It shows up as grain in the cookhouse interface too."

They had hoped that maybe the terminal would have a way to convert the grain into flour, but they were disappointed.

"And until then?" Zihan asked. "We eat boiled wheat every day like birds?"

Liora furrowed her brows. The system wasn’t giving her any modules or tools to upgrade the food factory yet—she would need to find another path, maybe even trade for it... or earn it the hard way.

Still, despite their disappointment, she noticed no one had stopped working. The frame of the warehouse was already half done, a humble but proud thing rising among dusty ground and stone.

As she turned, the aroma of cooking drifted down the wind, guiding her toward the canteen. It was now operating on a tighter routine—two meals a day, one at noon and one at night. Mornings were left to individual choice: dried fruits, wild berries, or something simple like leftover broth if any remained.

Inside the canteen, people moved with great enthusiasm. Even after cooking so much, they seemed satisfied with their work. Two large pots steamed on the stove, vegetables bubbling within. A chef stirred with practiced rhythm while assistants chopped mushrooms nearby.

"This smells incredible," Liora said softly, more to herself than anyone.

"We’re making mushroom stew and fireroot porridge today," one of the cooks replied with a proud smile. "Everyone’s working so hard—gotta feed them well."

A warm current passed through her chest at that. A good meal really had a way to reach everyone’s heart, and it could only boost morale to work harder.

But not far from the kitchen, a different kind of activity stirred.

Yun Shou and Mei had erected a makeshift medical shelter. A canopy made of stitched-together cloth offered just enough shade, and beneath it sat a handful of patients with minor injuries: scraped arms, twisted ankles, insect bites, and some serious wounds from before arriving at the base.

Mei moved among them with her usual calm, her healing ability glowing faintly from her fingertips as she eased pain and accelerated recovery.



Beside her, Old Zhou was murmuring prices while offering his potions at a relatively low cost. He always worked with a mischievous glint, but today, his brow was drawn tighter than usual, giving him a stern old-man look.

"The earthquake shook more than buildings," he said, noticing Liora’s gaze. "It was dangerous."

She nodded slowly. "What do you mean?"

"After the apocalypse, we can’t trust anything—not even a small earthquake. Rain has brought mutated beasts before. So what if this quake means something worse?"

Liora’s lips twitched at his words, but she didn’t show it on her face. The truth was—it was her fault. But she couldn’t tell them that. And it wasn’t their fault for being cautious. The apocalypse had made everyone wary.

All around her, groups of people had gathered in hushed circles, some leaning on shovels, others with sleeves rolled up and dust on their faces—but the conversation was the same.

"Did you feel how it came out of nowhere? No warnings?"

"It’s like the ground itself was angry."

"It’s just like the red rain incident last month. Something’s coming, I’m telling you."

"You think it’s a beast wave?"

The voices grew louder, circling in nervous tones like smoke with nowhere to go. From the storage site to the canteen to the small field hospital, the earthquake had become the only thing anyone could talk about.

Liora stood still in the center of it all, the murmurs surrounding her like a tide.

She swallowed nervously.

Only she knew the truth. But she had to find a way to calm the restlessness growing in their hearts.



It was just because of the base upgrade.

But none of them knew that. They couldn’t know.

She closed her eyes for half a second, steadying herself.

Even Mei, who rarely spoke unless necessary, was quietly discussing with Yun Shou and a few others, concern tightening her usually soft expression.

The fear in their eyes wasn’t just from the quake—it was from the uncertainty. In this apocalyptic world, nature didn’t act without reason anymore. Every event had weight. Every strange happening meant consequences.

Some thought it was a warning. Others feared it marked a mutant migration or worse—a second collapse of the world.

They were afraid.

And it was her fault.

Liora straightened up and raised her voice slightly to gain everyone’s attention.

"It wasn’t an omen," she said.

Everyone’s heads turned toward her. Conversations paused.

"What do you mean?" asked Yun Shou, his brows drawn tight.