Chapter 165 - Thief

In the desolate wilderness, a figure was moving at high speed. It moved so fast that it created a cloud of dust on the ground.

The figure in the middle of the Mercedes-Benz suddenly stopped. It was a black girl, and she was also carrying a 12 or 13 year old girl on her back. The young girl had long silver hair, and on her shoulder was a chubby mutated beast lying down close to her.

"What's the matter, Althea?" Monnie asked.

Atasha looked in the direction of Windmill Town. She seemed to have sensed something just now. But the feeling was blurred and unclear. Only, that feeling made her feel a little afraid.

"It's nothing. Let's rest a bit before we continue our journey." There was no need to tell someone else what she didn't know.

Eating simply, Monnie ran her finger over the sand. She drew a curved line and drew a circle at the end of it. Mony pointed at it and said, "Follow the road until we reach a base called the Shadow Capital. "This is the largest residential area within a thousand kilometers, let's go there."

"How do you know all this?"

Monnie smiled shyly and said, "There's a map in the hotel lobby. I was paying attention to it before. However, I didn't expect that I would be going to the Shadow City in my current state. Back then, I only thought that it would be easier to find information about my mother due to the large population there … "

Mother?

It was a foreign word to her. Her parents were the best soldiers in the village, but when she was born, her mother died in childbirth. When the final decision was made between the adult and the child, the mother gave up her life and left the chance for her daughter.

Children are the future!

This was what Atasha's father had told her before she died, when she was ten years old. In fact, her name was inherited from her mother, the only thing her mother had left her.

She had also lost her father when she was ten. During one of the hunts, her father had encountered an extremely powerful mutated beast. In order to cover for the other villagers, Atasha's father had stayed behind and left her forever.

For her, her mother's impression was vague, at least not as clear as her father's. More than once, she had imagined her mother's face, but she had gained nothing. Thus, Monnie, who at least remembered her mother's appearance, seemed happy to her. As long as Monnie's mother didn't die, they would at least have a chance to meet again.

Unlike Atasha, she didn't even know what her mother looked like.

"As long as you don't give up, you'll definitely meet again!" she said, patting Monnie on the head.

Monnie nodded emphatically and said, "Tessa, what do you think of Zero?"

"He should be fine. Even that big crack couldn't kill him. How could he die in that kind of duel?" However, when she said this, she suddenly realized that the source of her fear came from zero.

When she discovered this detail, the unease in her heart grew even more intense.

Around three in the afternoon, Parkland's team finally left. Before they left, Parkland's soldiers had burned the bodies they had dug up, and the ruins of the factory were once again set ablaze. It was just that this flame was not as intense. However, the flames released by the highly efficient fuel was rapidly burning and disintegrating the human body. As a result, the fragrance of the meat wafted in all directions. However, those who smelled it did not look well at all. Some people even started vomiting.

The process of burning continued for two whole hours. When dusk approached, the flames gradually extinguished.

The ruins of the factory had been cordoned off by the security forces and the clean-up would continue for several days. But before that, it was the duty of the security forces to relocate the nearby citizens who had been implicated in the explosion.

There was no mayor in Windmill Town. In addition to the security team that maintained order, there were only four or five elderly residents who formed a committee to decide the size of the town. At an emergency meeting in the evening, homeless residents were placed in the committee building until their houses were rebuilt.

The town was not rich, and most of its residents would work in a nearby mine in batches in exchange for a small income. A small portion of the population lives by growing crops such as potatoes, but the land is now not only barren but also radioactive. Although the crops that were grown weren't mutated, due to their low yields and radiation, their sales weren't good. Therefore, the farmers were not better off than the miners, spending most of their days without food.

The only person who made money in the town was the owner of the water wheel bar. Although the shoddy beer brewed in the bar was hard to drink, the men were still willing to drink cold shoddy beer from the bar for a few cents after a hard day's work. Mr. Halt, the boss, had made some money over the years, on the principle of profiteering. To that end, when the committee asked him for financial aid to help the poor inhabitants repair their houses, Mr. Halt readily agreed.

A successful businessman would definitely understand the logic behind a sheep's hair. The money they had donated today would be reclaimed from them tomorrow.

It was eight in the evening when he got home from the committee building. It was indeed a thrilling day, and Mr. Holt had forgotten how long it had been since he'd had it so exciting. Now that he was tired, he decided to take a bath before going to sleep. However, he heard his wife's curses coming from the balcony.

"What's the matter, dear?" Halt asked.

His wife came down from the rooftop, cursing as she walked: "It's all because of that explosion at noon that blew away all the clothes you left hanging on the rooftop."

"Forget it, forget it. We're lucky that we're still alive. If we lose our clothes, we'll lose it." Mr. Holt did not mind, and after a few words of consolation to his wife he went to the bathroom.

Halt's wife mumbled to herself, "But it's really strange. It was also because the sheets were not blown away, but only a few pieces of clothing were blown away. What kind of logic is this?"

She obviously didn't understand the crux of it, and there was a lot of housework waiting for her to do, so she didn't have the spare energy to think about it.

In the dark wilderness, a figure could be seen on the road. The figure moved extremely fast, leaving behind a series of afterimages as it moved north along the highway.

Occasionally, when they stopped, the people who appeared were clearly wearing clothes that didn't fit them at all. Both the striped shirt and the grey-blue jeans were too wide, as if they were wearing someone else's clothes.

If Mr. Halt's wife had seen it, she would have realized that her husband's clothes had not been blown away by the wind, but had been stolen. By this time, the thief on the road seemed to have decided on a direction. He got off the road and walked past a stretch of dry sand, and behind a few towers that had stopped working, the silhouette of a city loomed in the night.