Magic Space: Struggling to Survive in the Apocalypse-Chapter 117: Recruitment and Tilling the Land

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Chapter 117: Chapter 117: Recruitment and Tilling the Land

The bumps on her face would take two or three days to disappear on their own, so when Evelyn Ford went to work at the medical department the next day, she kept her face completely covered. She even skipped the cafeteria at lunchtime.

"What happened to your face?" After lunch, Quincy came looking for her, his curiosity piqued when he saw her face was still covered.

"I had an allergic reaction. I was worried I’d scare people if they saw it, so I covered it up."

Quincy frowned. "An allergic reaction to what? We should have some allergy medication here. I’ll find a dose for you."

"No need, it’ll be fine in a couple of days. How are Mina and Lola? They haven’t torn the place apart, have they?"

"They’ve been very good, don’t worry. I can take good care of them, so just leave them with me."

Quincy seemed to remember something. He glanced around mysteriously, leaned closer to Evelyn, and whispered, "Several doctors from the base were taken away. Guess what happened?"

Evelyn’s brow twitched. She shook her head. "How would I know what happened?"

"I heard Miss Holloway was vomiting and had diarrhea all last night, and she was convulsing. This morning, her body suddenly swelled up. The doctors said her private life is a mess and she’s caught a ’dirty disease,’ telling her to practice abstinence and calm her desires."

Beneath her mask, the corners of Evelyn’s mouth curved into a smile she couldn’t suppress.

"How pitiful," Evelyn said without stopping her work. Quincy continued.

"Pitiful my ass. I’ve never seen such a female bandit. She’s snatched up every halfway decent-looking man in the base. There was this one guy who refused her, would rather die first, so she had her bodyguards tie up his parents and throw them out of the base. That guy was later beaten to death by her bodyguards."

"And the base does nothing?"

"How can they? She’s the great miss of the Holloway Family. The family has several young masters, but only one young miss. She probably inherited Chairman Holloway’s licentiousness. I heard that Chairman Holloway has seven or eight kids. Aside from the eldest, who was born to his official wife, the rest are all illegitimate."

"Remember Mr. Holloway? He’s one of those illegitimate sons."

’How could I forget?’ Evelyn thought. ’Mr. Holloway’s RV is still in my space.’

"Why aren’t you out on a mission today?"

Quincy looked resigned. "I was transferred over to support your surgical department."

"The temperature is rising. When things are this abnormal, something’s usually wrong. You should spend the points you need to spend and stock up on some supplies."

It was a subtle reminder from Evelyn. She had figured out the pattern of the cataclysms by now—one ended, and another began, giving people no chance to catch their breath.

"I know. Last time, it was thanks to the medicine you slipped us. Wendy and Roy Henderson were sick for days. Mr. Graham was in despair; he almost followed them, you know."

Evelyn could imagine how difficult it must have been for them. "Fortunately, we’re all still alive."

***

In the afternoon, a ray of sunlight appeared. Evelyn took out her thermometer and checked—the temperature had indeed risen to minus twenty degrees Celsius.

For the first time, Evelyn heard a broadcast coming from the base’s large loudspeakers.

"Attention, attention. The temperature is warming. The base is urgently recruiting two thousand workers. In two days, we will begin clearing snow and tilling the land. All base residents are encouraged to sign up on the first floor of the administration building. Male workers will earn ninety points per day. Female workers will earn seventy points per day. End of announcement."

’Tilling the land?’

Evelyn couldn’t understand why the base would be tilling land at a time like this. Were they building houses or planting crops?

The workers who grew vegetables in The Undercity only earned forty points a day. The pay for tilling was more than double that. Many people grew excited, wishing they could go sign up at the administration building right now.

The next day, Evelyn got some insider news from Dr. Miller. Apparently, the base’s experts predicted a stable period of one or two years after the cold spell ended. That was why the base was recruiting people to till the land—they planned to plant a type of genetically modified wheat.

This wheat could supposedly be harvested in about three months. It wasn’t picky about soil, and harvests would be even better in soil that had been frozen.

Evelyn’s eyelid twitched. She had a feeling this expert was unreliable. ’A harvest every three months? Does that kind of wheat even exist? The normal harvest period for wheat is 220 to 250 days. And with this extreme weather, hot one moment and cold the next, can he guarantee that another cataclysm won’t appear after the cold spell?’

Evelyn, who had lived a second life, couldn’t even guess what would happen next. Unless this expert had the ability to predict the future.

"Evelyn, do you think this is reliable?"

Evelyn thought it wasn’t, but she couldn’t say so.

When she got home, she asked Ronan Kendrick what he thought of the matter. He had only two words: "We’re doomed."

The base was huge, larger than a small county town. It housed millions of survivors from all over.

The people’s livelihood was the most difficult and most important issue.

The internal politics of the base were complex, with various factions at play. What could an insignificant character like Evelyn change, even if she knew this plan was a bad idea?

Her next-door neighbor, Serena Lynch, came knocking. She told Evelyn that she could start working in the surgical department tomorrow. As for her boyfriend, Chase Underwood, the power maintenance department wouldn’t let him go, so he had to stay there.

On the third day, the temperature rose to minus fifteen degrees Celsius. Registration for the tilling work had already closed, with three thousand more people signed up than expected.

Five thousand people tilling the land—it seemed the base had grand ambitions this time.

Dr. Miller said that with the rising temperatures, the base had decided to build several pig and chicken farms on the surface and move all the animals up from The Undercity.

The gray sky began to turn blue, and everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction. Even Evelyn started to feel like she was being overly anxious.

Serena Lynch started in the surgical department as a nurse, with Evelyn assigned to train her. But she was truly clumsy. After just one day, Evelyn was completely drained by her.

Dr. Miller had no choice but to reassign Serena to Dr. Lawrence. But Dr. Lawrence was not a good-tempered man. Serena was sent to him for only half an hour before he berated her to tears.

Evelyn didn’t meddle. Even outside of the apocalypse, the workplace was like this. People with poor skills who didn’t work hard and weren’t serious would only get yelled at.

’If Serena Lynch wants to earn points, she has to learn to endure it, study hard, and make herself more competent.’

"Evelyn, I can’t do this anymore. It’s too tiring. I’m scared to learn how to give injections, it’s terrifying. And that Dr. Lawrence... he’s so mean."

Evelyn glanced at Serena Lynch but didn’t respond. She was already exhausted after a full day of work, and nobody likes listening to someone else complain and vent their misery.

"Evelyn, if I go back to the plantation now, will the administrator yell at me?"

"You could go and ask."

Serena Lynch scratched her head. "I studied fine arts in college. I just wanted to be a painter, but then the apocalypse came. If it weren’t for Chase Underwood, I probably would have starved to death during the torrential rains. I don’t want to be a burden to him. I really want to try hard, but I’m discovering I don’t know how to do anything. I can’t do anything."

You could tell she was a girl who had grown up in a well-off family, coddled and cherished.

"When people are pushed to their limits, they can unlock all sorts of potential."

"Then... I’ll try to stick it out a little longer. Maybe I’ll get the hang of it tomorrow."