A few days ago.
A group of uninvited guests visited the colony established by NAC in California.
“DAMNIT, where did they go!”
Black Skull put one foot onto the seat inside the Governor’s Mansion, and he spat out the cigarette butt in his mouth.
Three days ago, he brought his brothers to the NAC colony. However, neither the mercenaries patrolling near the colony nor the NAC officers who were in charge of cargo were seen.
The entire colony seemed to have emptied overnight and only a half-built fortress and a construction site full of reinforced concrete were left.
Out of awe of NAC, Black Skull waited with his brothers outside of the colony anxiously for three days. However, in these three days, his last little bit of awe was also consumed by the endless waiting.
He had a group of slaves in his hands, all of whom were fine goods picked from fallout shelters in the desert between California and Nevada. Of course, the term “fine goods” was only applicable in NAC’s territory. Except for NAC, who would take these picky people that didn’t do work?
Without those lavish yellow-skinned buyers, these “goods” in his hands were outright trash! And they consumed more than 600 nutrient supplies every day!
This kind of loss made him feel angry.
Well, if this group of yellow people didn’t plan to pay for their slaves, then he would personally go in and take the rewards himself.
With this thought in mind, Black Skull and his brothers rushed into the empty fortress to loot. However, the reality was even more despairing. Someone had visited before him for there was not even an empty can in the warehouse, and all the valuables were ransacked by scavengers wandering in the wasteland of California.
“FU*K, where are these yellow-skinned monkeys!” Beside the window of the office, Black Skull looked at the empty colony outside the window and cussed as he left behind the humility he had half a month ago.
“Could it be that they got into some serious trouble and all ran off?” Behind him, a predator with a shaved mohawk stepped forward and scanned the dusty governor office, then said hesitantly, “The National Guards have always regarded them as a thorn in their eyes. It is very likely that those iron boxes did this.”
“I don’t want to know what trouble they are in now; I just want to know what we should do with these slaves!” Black Skull fumed. He smashed the table with the gun stock, pulled out Zhou Guoping’s chair in rage, and sat down, “Tony Club, yes, yes! Which one of you remember how to contact them?”
Tony Club was a famous cannibal tribe in California. Except for NAC, perhaps only they understood the beauty of the blue skins. However, they never paid high for the salves destined to become food.
But now Black Skull could not care less, he just wanted to end his loss. Even if a person only sold for ten bottle caps, he was willing to accept the deal!
“Boss…” The Mohawk hesitated and said, ” Tony Club was suppressed by National Guards last month.”
“These idiots!” Black Skull cursed.
There was not a voice in the office that once belonged to the governor, and everyone could see that the anger of their boss was approaching the critical point, and no one dared to speak up.
When the boss’ anger seemed to dissipate a little, a man’s face covered with radiation spots and did not look as strong as the other predators stepped forward and suggested.
He was a strategist of the Black Skull Gang, and among all the people here, he was the only one who could offer words of advice to their boss.
“Boss, although we didn’t find anyone from NAC, they left us the entire colony…” At this point, the strategist had a sullen smile. “The fortress can serve as our new stronghold to grow our gang.”
While the idea did sound attractive, the thought of leaving the desert where he thrived on made Black Skull hesitate.
There were no plump and juicy thorn fruits and radiation-resistant cacti in the plains, which meant that they would have to use other means to obtain nutrient supply and anti-radiation pills, such as plowing mutant plants like other survivors’ settlements. When one starts farming, many troubles often ensued.
“But the desert is our familiar place, such a big fortress…”
“Boss,” the strategist persuaded diligently, “Do you want to be a bandit who has no home, or do you want to become a warlord like Paul Revere and Brian Eddie? If we can secure this fortress, you can be the most powerful boss in California!”
Paul Revere was the leader of Steel City that commanded the entire California National Guard. And Brian Eddie was the president-elected by Liberty City and the leader of the California Militia “Minuteman.” They were the two most powerful men in California. Even the survivors on the far east coast were in awe of these two.
Black Skull touched his chin and nodded slightly. He thought that what his subordinate said seemed to make sense.
Although if he had to decide between a leader or a bandit, he would definitely choose the latter. However, he had grown tired of his life in the sand trapped in the cold wind and the unsettled life.
Although NAC had left nothing behind, and the canned food and instant noodles in the warehouse were also raided, they left a lot of useful things, such as machine tools for making bullets, construction machineries for various purposes, and a lot of construction materials. …
He had people with guns and slaves who do hard work, so he had a chance to defend this unowned land.
“Call the brothers in the California desert and ask them to stop their work and bring all their belongings to the West Coast.”
“I’m going now!” The Mohawk nodded and ran to the door quickly.
Black Skull put his legs onto the table and put the rifle aside. Just as he was thinking about what else he needed to prepare, a melodious siren came from a distance.
The people in the room were stunned, and they stared at each other.
Black Skull immediately got up, walked quickly to the window facing the coast, and narrowed his eyes toward the harbor. At almost the same time, a predator ran in, panting, and reported.
“Boss, a cargo ship is approaching the port with the NAC flag!”
The predators in the room were rattled.
“SH*T! Are they back?!”
“What do we do?! If they think we stole their canned food…”
“SHUT UP!”
With a snarling roar, Black Skull picked up his rifle and swept it toward the ceiling. Cement dust and plastic shavings spattered down onto the heads of those chattering. Everyone looked fearful, lowered their head, and were afraid to look directly at their boss.
“What’s on the cargo ship? Can you see it clearly?” The vulture-like sight, filled with haze, stared at the trembling predator reporting at the door. Black Skull lowered his voice and asked, “Is there power armors on the deck? Or soldiers with kinetic skeletons? And is there a NAC warship following behind?”
“No, there is only one cargo ship.” Fearful that the murderous demon may send a few bullets into his chest, the predator swallowed and replied with a trembling voice, “There are only containers on the deck that are full of canned food…”
