The wasteland wind scattered the scent of blood. The Crystal Shell Giant Scorpion retreated into the depths of the gloomy canyon to lick its wounds, and the Dream-Weaving Demon Spider retracted its terrifying, articulated limbs deep into the forest.
The two great overlords seemed to have made a pact, simultaneously hitting the pause button.
For Allen, however, this was a rare, stable period of rapid development.
"CLACK, CLACK, CLACK—"
Inside Assembly Workshop 1, the "fortunate souls" carried parts tirelessly.
Another brand-new Spider-Killer Type II rolled off the production line.
Allen held a freshly brewed beverage, watching the smooth production process in the factory.
The basic living resource pack provided by his mentor had everything. He didn't need to cook for himself in this hellhole. There were even snacks and desserts, adding a bit of spice to his dull life.
"This is what you call a sense of security," Allen remarked.
