Chapter 955: Chapter 168
While the survivors of Seven Hills City were still anxious due to the attacks from the Evil God Sect, the immigrant group from the Northern Territory finally arrived at the battered city.
The roar of the Floating Battleships pierced the sky, and their massive shadows loomed over the ruins.
The survivors looked up, seeing several steel battleships slowly descending onto the temporarily expanded port area. As the hatches opened, a team composed of craftsmen, farmers, doctors, and soldiers orderly descended the ramp.
The members of the immigrant group wore thick Northern Territory uniforms, carrying tool packs on their shoulders and holding Alchemy Lanterns in their hands, their eyes reflecting both caution towards the unknown environment and hope for a new life.
Many of them did not come voluntarily but were attracted by generous conditions—the Empire’s promise of land, tax exemption, and the opportunity to establish a home on this new land.
The leader of the Missionary Group personally welcomed them, his voice spreading throughout the camp via loudspeakers:
"Welcome to Seven Hills City! You will participate in rebuilding this great city, and the Empire will ensure your safety and future!"
However, when the immigrants truly set foot on the land of Seven Hills City, the sight that greeted them made everyone gasp in shock.
They had expected to see neatly planned temporary accommodations and warehouses filled with supplies, but all they saw were ragged tents swaying in the cold wind and barely functioning makeshift distribution points.
The tired faces of the Priests and the cautious eyes of the survivors all indicated just how tight resources were here.
An unsettling scent filled the air—a pungent mix of rotting flesh, charcoal, and some indefinable stench.
This faint smell lingered at the tip of the nose, reminding everyone that the threat of the Evil God believers had never truly gone away.
A few immigrants unconsciously touched their protective charms as if doing so could dispel the unease in their hearts.
When night fell, the scene within the temporary camp was even more alarming.
The immigrants squeezed into the hastily erected simple dwellings, listening to the howling wind outside interspersed with eerie shrieks, sounds sometimes like beastly roars and other times like human screams.
In the darkness, someone whispered, "Did we make a wrong decision?"
This remark was especially clear within the silent tent, but no one dared to respond.
Despite the tough circumstances, the immigrant group from the Northern Territory injected new vitality into this lifeless city.
In the biting cold wind, they used prefabricated materials brought by the Floating Fleet and glowing Alchemy adhesives to quickly erect rows of simple housing.
Craftsmen led the survivors through the ruins of Seven Hills City, carefully clearing the debris of collapsed buildings with shovels and crowbars.
Whenever they discovered intact metal beams or usable stone materials, someone would classify them for storage—metal materials were sent to the temporarily built smelting furnace, while stones were neatly stacked in the reconstruction area, waiting to become the foundation of new buildings.
Farmers, meanwhile, busied themselves within the area protected by the Energy Tower, using specially crafted cultivation tools to till the frozen soil, slowly breaking through the tough ice layer.
Simple greenhouse frames had already been built, with transparent alchemy glass glimmering under the sun, and inside, cold-resistant crop seeds from the Northern Territory were being nurtured.
Everyone hoped these crops could mature soon to ease the increasingly tight food supply in the camp.
However, the issue of resource scarcity soon became evident.
At the emergency supply distribution meeting in the temporary command center, the leader of the Missionary Group furrowed his brow as the list in his hand clearly showed—stored grain would only last for three days.
Worse yet, Engineer Marcus, while inspecting the water supply system, discovered malicious contamination of the underground pipes by Evil God believers.
When he pried open the inspection manhole cover, a pungent rotten stench hit him, making it almost impossible to open his eyes.
A strange black sludge adhered to the inner walls of the pipes, and the water not only contained corrupt pollutants that rendered it nauseatingly foul but also floated with suspicious filaments.
Marcus, with his rich experience, immediately sampled and tested, and the results made his heart race—the water contained high levels of pathogenic bacteria and toxins, and even traces of alchemical corrosion agent were detected, making it utterly undrinkable.
His face turned ashen as he wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, immediately reporting to the leader of the Missionary Group through the alchemy communicator: "We must cut off the water supply immediately! This is not ordinary pollution; those madmen have added something to the water, and a single sip could be lethal!"
He had to urgently order the suspension of the entire water supply system, switching to the sparse alchemy water purification devices for emergencies.
These precious devices were originally prepared for medical purposes but now had to be used to maintain the most basic living water supply.
Only now did the immigrants realize the challenges they faced were far more severe than imagined.
A long line formed in front of the temporarily set up water purification station, and each person could only receive a small kettle of purified water.
The chapped lips of the children and the anxious eyes of the housewives all indicated the despair brought by this water crisis.
Though the leader of the Missionary Group urgently allocated supplies, the quantities were limited, barely able to sustain for three days.
The warehouse’s stored grain depleted at a faster rate than anticipated, as the immigrants had to share the scant food and water purification equipment with the survivors.
Every time supplies were distributed, intense disputes broke out between the two groups—immigrants accused survivors of hoarding food, while survivors angrily accused immigrants of greed.
Such sharing was clearly not going smoothly.
