Daniel's eyes lit up with surprise. "You mean that shelter can still be opened?"

Having accompanied Linkon for quite some time, he had heard whispers about the shelter Linkon built.

Linkon nodded confidently. "Absolutely. That shelter has its own generator, and I've stocked enough diesel to run it for at least three years! Plus, it's equipped with a water purification system that can produce a large quantity of clean drinking water. If we sell the water, we'll have enough food and weapons!"

"In there, my brothers will have safe rooms to live in! They can each find a woman to stay with, and life can be good again!"

Linkon painted an enticing picture for them.

This had always been his plan, although it hit some snags along the way, especially with the difficulty in obtaining a business license.

No license? Just sell it under the table!

He certainly understood the risks involved in selling without a license; if Bruce Scott caught wind of it, nine times out of ten, it would lead to death.

But now, he figured there was no point worrying about it.

He had also learned that Bruce Scott's brother, Aron Scott, had started a black market in St. Martin Town, secretly dealing in military supplies—no license needed there!

Dawson was ecstatic. "Ha! I want three women for myself!"

Linkon's past authority reassured Dawson quickly.

With a grin, Linkon replied, "As many as you want, as long as you can afford them."

Daniel, feeling somewhat calmed, was relieved too.

After settling his two subordinates, Linkon said, "The distance from St. Martin Town to Dill Holiday is five kilometers, surrounded by dense forest. It's a dangerous trek for the brothers to make. Plus, if we plan on selling water regularly, we'll need a secure way to navigate this route. However, our priority right now is reaching the shelter."

After discussing their strategy, Linkon decided to head to St. Martin Town with the two of them to trade for some food while also scouting out the location and its conditions.

St. Martin Town.

It was bustling with activity.

Originally a small village meant for just over a thousand residents, it had now swelled to accommodate tens of thousands of survivors.

The air was filled with noise and commotion.

This place was Bruce Scott's hometown, which boasted over a hundred soldiers stationed there, but Aron Scott had taken over management. Compared to the 910 Outpost, it was far less strict.

Many survivors who refused to surrender their weapons or those who didn't want to register their esper abilities were flocking here, along with murderers evading the 910 Brigade.

In just a few days, St. Martin Town had turned into a lawless zone.

With limited housing available, villagers began renting out their homes to survivors in exchange for food, supplies, and even women.

This led to a cascade of issues.

One villager was killed by an esper for taking his wife.

Several survivors stole food from the villagers, triggering violent confrontations.

Such incidents were rampant.

Aron Scott unhesitatingly sided with the villagers, using bloodshed and brutality to restore order.

Though the situation cooled slightly, the anger and discontent among the survivors were unmistakable.

In the heart of St. Martin Town stood a towering willow tree, its height remarkable, stretching over a hundred meters thanks to mutation.

The tree was covered with innumerable missing person posters:

"Fay, Dad is at the 910 Outpost, if you see this, come find me.""Mom, I've arrived, where are you? --Carrot""Looking for my daughter, missing since yesterday, 19 years old, wearing a red top and black pants..."

Countless individuals gathered by the notice board, anxiously scanning for the whereabouts of their loved ones.

Jack George stood there for a while, searching in vain for news of his daughter, only to find disappointment overwhelming him. He ultimately tacked up a note:

"Lancy George, if you come, go to stall number 15 outside the 910 Outpost to find Dad."

He lightly touched the note, exhaling a sigh of resignation.

His secretary, River, attempted to console him. "Don't worry, boss; the girl has her own guardian angel."

Jack George waved a hand dismissively, forcing a bitter smile. "Who can say in a time like this? I just hope Lancy is still alive."

The last time he spoke to Lancy, she was at a car modification club.

After that, communication cut off, and they hadn't exchanged any words for over ten days.

Ten long days...

Jack George's eyes reddened with emotion.

At that moment, he heard a voice behind him.

"Boss Song!"

He turned in surprise to see Linkon standing there.

At the sight of Linkon, his previously somber expression shifted instantly into a merchant's false smile. "Ah! It's good to see you're alright!"

Jack George enthusiastically grasped Linkon's hand.

The two had collaborated before—Jack George's hotel had been constructed by Linkon's company.

They both owned villas in Dill Holiday, and their personal relationship was quite cordial.

Dill Holiday?

Linkon's shelter!

Jack George instantly recalled that detail, and his smile grew more genuine.

"It's great that we're all alive!" Linkon laughed heartily.

He had keenly noticed the missing person poster that Jack George had placed up and thought to himself, "'Find Dad at stall number 15 outside the 910 Outpost?'"

"Jack George has a business license!"

After exchanging superficial pleasantries, the two cunning old foxes moved to a quiet corner, fully aware that neither was a fool. They dropped their pretenses and began negotiating plainly.

"Chairman George, let's head to the shelter together. Once we're there, we can have you sell the pure water produced from it!"

"Not a chance! I can accompany you, but I want half ownership of the shelter!"

"Impossible! That's my shelter! And besides, I'm the only one who knows the codes to get in; nobody else can access it!"

"Then I want exclusive rights to sell the pure water!"

"Hmph! Chairman George, don't be too greedy."

"Governor Linkon, I'm going with you to that shelter. It's fraught with danger, and with just this much help, how am I supposed to explain it to my people? Also... I assume you don't have a business license, right? Otherwise, you'd let me sell the water without a problem."

"......Fine. But I can only sell you 30 liters of water daily, and you must pay at least 30 liters of diesel in your payment!"

"That's too expensive! Diesel is scarce right now! I can offer you 100 liters of pure water daily, and in exchange, you'll get 10 liters of diesel—let's trade the rest for food!"

"No deal! 10 liters of diesel isn't even enough to cover costs. If the generator fails, I'll be in deep trouble!"

The negotiation escalated with each argument until they finally struck a deal.

Jack George would assemble an elite team to accompany Linkon to the shelter.

If any of Jack George's people were harmed along the way, Linkon would be responsible for compensation—20 packs of instant noodles for each death, depending on the situation for the injured.

The shelter would belong entirely to Linkon.

In return, once the deal was completed, Linkon agreed to provide Jack George with a portion of food and exclusive rights to sell the purified water.

Linkon promised to supply at least 40 liters of clean water daily, while Jack George had to provide a minimum of 20 liters of diesel, with the rest calculated as food.

After finalizing the details, the two old foxes laughed heartily and embraced warmly.

Jack George exclaimed, "The number of survivors is increasing, meaning the demand for pure water is skyrocketing!"

Knowing he couldn't linger too long at the 910 Outpost, Linkon remarked, "Let's go back and get prepared. Time is of the essence; we'll meet back here in one hour, then set out!"

"Agreed!"

Watching Linkon and his entourage leave, Jack George's previously cheerful demeanor quickly turned serious as he stared at Linkon's retreating figure.

"Why is Linkon so anxious? He seems in quite a hurry to get away from here?"

The last comment was a deliberate test of Linkon's intentions, and as expected, Linkon let his guard slip, revealing more than he intended.