41: Quenching and Whispers

That night, Reno didn't know how he walked back to the dormitory.

The next day, the sky remained that eternal, desolate gray of Ashen Earth Star. Reno walked the patrol route as usual, but everything around him seemed to have changed.

"Morning, Boss." A member of the Guard Team yawned as he greeted him.

Reno simply nodded, his gaze passing over him to look at the distant mining area.

The Supervisor's whip struck a Mine Slave who was slightly slow; the crisp crack was no longer the noise of maintaining order, but the drumbeat of a death knell.

Surrounded by several confidants, Steward Bachmu was pointing toward Section B. The fanaticism on his face was no longer a superior's ambition, but a madness that would drag everyone down to the grave with him.

Tombstone.

The name 'Chen Feng' was etched into his mind like a brand. All of them were cheerfully contributing to their own tombstones.

"Boss? Boss?" Seeing his pale face, the team member asked with concern, "Are you okay? Didn't you rest well last night?"

"I'm fine." Reno's voice was terribly hoarse. "Bring me today's patrol schedule. I want to see it."

"Ah? But isn't it already set?"

"I said bring it!" Reno barked suddenly. The bloodshot veins in his eyes startled the team member, who hurriedly handed over the data tablet.

Reno lowered his head, his fingertips flying across the light screen. He didn't look at the team member, speaking in an unquestionable tone: "At the abandoned smelting plant on the west side, Rock Crystal Weasels have been active recently. Move two squads there for cross-patrol. From Outpost 8 to Outpost 12, leave a one-hour gap in the firepower handover for a concentrated sweep."

"An hour? Boss, that's against regulations. What if..."

"Are you the captain, or am I?" Reno looked up sharply, his eyes as fierce as a cornered beast. "Execute the order!"

"Yes! Yes!" The team member didn't dare say more and immediately went to relay the instructions.

Reno stood there, watching the team member run off, then slowly raised his hand. Using an anonymous backdoor program pre-installed in his terminal, he sent an unrecorded encrypted message.

The message contained only a set of coordinates and a time.

He knew this was his letter of allegiance. Whether it was being handed to a devil or to the future, he could no longer tell.

He only knew he didn't want to die like a joke.

In Chen Feng's new dormitory, the terminal emitted a faint, barely audible chime.

"It's here," he said to Lao Mo, who was wolfing down food nearby, as he looked at the message.

"Who's here?" Lao Mo asked indistinctly, his mouth stuffed with Nutrient Paste.

"Our opportunity is here." Chen Feng stood up, his face expressionless. "Lao Mo, how do you think our brothers' marksmanship is coming along?"

"What do you mean how?" Lao Mo was stunned. "They haven't even touched a gun!"

"Then they'll start touching them now." Chen Feng's tone was frighteningly calm. "Pass the word. The top thirty on the leaderboard, the ones with the best physical condition. Assemble at the abandoned smelting plant on the west side in half an hour. Tell them I'm treating them to a real, belly-bursting meal."

Half an hour later, at the abandoned smelting plant on the west side.

Thirty ragged, emaciated Mine Slaves, led by Lao Mo, walked into this giant steel tomb with a mix of suspicion and greed.

"734... no, Mr. Chen, where's the meal you mentioned?" a bold Mine Slave asked, rubbing his hands while his eyes darted around.

Chen Feng didn't answer, he just clapped his hands.

Lao Mo walked behind a massive, rusted furnace and lifted a camouflaged iron plate.

When the ten Modified Gauss Rifles, shimmering with faint blue electric arcs and filled with violent aesthetics, appeared before them, everyone gasped.

"Before the meal, you need to get some exercise." Chen Feng's voice echoed in the empty workshop, sounding exceptionally cold.

"Today, I will only teach you three things."

"First, absolute obedience to my orders."

"Second, how to use and maintain this thing." He picked up a rifle, skillfully disassembling and reassembling it.

"Third..." He raised the rifle, pointing it at a suspended steel beam in the distance. Without aiming, he pulled the trigger by feel.

"Bang!"

A dull, heavy roar, accompanied by a blinding flash of electricity. A metal slug whistled out, slamming hard into the steel beam and erupting in a brilliant shower of sparks!

The massive recoil caused Chen Feng's shoulder to jerk slightly.

He lowered the gun and looked at the terrified crowd, saying slowly, "Align the three points, and put the bullet into the enemy's head."

The training began.

It wasn't training at all; it was an ordeal.

"Steady! If you can't even hold a gun steady, how do you expect to survive?"

"Can't handle the recoil? Then use your life to brace it!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The loud gunshots echoed in the workshop, each blast striking the fragile nerves of the crowd. The Mine Slaves were chronically malnourished; after holding the heavy rifles for just a few minutes, they were trembling all over.

"I'm not doing this anymore! It's too loud! It'll bring the Guard Team!" One Mine Slave finally broke down, dropped his gun, and tried to run.

Chen Feng didn't say a word; he just raised his hand and fired.

The bullet grazed the man's scalp, blowing a deep hole in the wall behind him.

"The next one who wants to run can try it," Chen Feng's cold voice rang out.

The Mine Slave's legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground, his crotch instantly becoming wet.

Fear was more effective than hunger.

While Chen Feng was forging his first army in the most efficient and brutal way, Ma Liu crawled out of a ventilation duct.

"Feng... Brother Feng..." He was panting, his face pale. "I... I heard it..."

"Heard what?" Chen Feng was correcting a Mine Slave's shooting posture.

"It's Bachm! He just communicated with the higher-ups, praising Section B to the skies, saying he found a treasure that could change the whole star sector! He also complained about being short-handed and urged them to send the 'Scavenger' unit he applied for earlier to 'assist in exploration'!"

Chen Feng's movements stopped.

Scavenger.

Alarm bells rang in his mind.

Three days later, late at night.

"Attention! Raise rifles! Aim! Fire!"

At Chen Feng's command, the three squads composed of thirty core members could now barely complete basic firing drills. Their eyes were still weary, but numbness and fear had been replaced by a cold killing intent.

Chen Feng stood on the second-floor platform of the smelting plant, overlooking the fledgling team below, calculating the next step of his plan.

Suddenly, the terminal on his wrist vibrated urgently—it was a top-level encrypted communication from Reno.

He opened the message.

On the screen, there were only four blood-red words.

"They are here now."

In that instant, Chen Feng's pupils snapped into pinpricks.

Time was up.