After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World

”Let’s give them all a more concentrated knockout potion, at least,” Crow said, and the Alterans gave every one of the captured slaves that woke up, calming them down for a bit.

In this way, the ’slaves’ wouldn’t be pushing themselves anymore and getting legitimate rest. This was in addition to diluted healing potions that stabilized their conditions, with particularly hurt people like Lani getting a bit more.

The Fargo citizens knew that such potions must not be cheap—at the very least, they didn’t have access to it no matter how much silver they gave.

They didn’t know everyone who participated in the war had a small vial of the knock-out potion, let alone the healing potions which was available for purchase.

In any case, this made the gesture have an even larger impact on their hearts. ”Thank you. So much,” Tacky and the others said, sobbing, and looking at them as if they were messiahs.

The Alterans sweat dropped and waved their hands. ”It’s not a big deal, really,” they said. With how Althea and the others were causing trouble, they doubted they’d need so much for themselves in the end.

Tacky shook his head, not allowing them to downplay their roles in this.

If they didn’t arrive on time, after a few more hours—even if nothing happened—many of these slaves would’ve just dropped dead out of nowhere.

How terrified his sister probably was! To yell and stand until one died, with no control over her own body!

Tacky thought, they must win this as soon as possible! His sister wouldn’t last any longer!

”If we help you get the word out… would you give us more of those contribution points?”

Crow’s eyebrows rose. ”Of course. Earn enough, and you and your sister’s livelihood would be guaranteed.”

Tacky nodded, wiping his snot. ”Then we’ll do our best,” he said, and he would indeed do as he promised.

It had to be said, that there might not be social media anymore, but the younger generation was still very apt with how to emulate it!

…

The clinic was, unsurprisingly, one of the busiest locations other than the battlegrounds themselves. After all, there had been injuries everywhere and they had been busy since the war started.

At this time, the clinic was over the maximum capacity with fifty or so patients, with the second floor also filled up.

What’s more, the patients were all guards, though this didn’t come as a surprise for them. They thought the citizens were probably also hurt but left out to die. Sadly, Victor and the others—wherever they were—weren’t here to bring those people to the clinic for treatment.

From the mouths and rants of the guards in pain—who they would later find out to just be deserters—they were actually being crushed by the enemies despite their relatively low numbers.

The more they heard, the more worried the doctors and nurses were. It seemed that the enemy was stronger than expected? What would that mean for them? Would they become slaves?

Anyway, after a couple of hours of war, the medicine they stockpiled so much in case of a large-scale monster mob disappeared.

The wounds were made even worse when the guards fought for the limited beds, even those who had minor wounds, as if they were terrified of going out and having to fight again.

”My arm’s in pain! Why is it taking so long?” One man yelled as he lay down on the bed, glaring at the shaking medical professionals who were just trying to get their jobs done.

”Sorry, sir, we already did what we can—”

”Shut up! Do your job!” he yelled, but then he saw the nurse was a little pretty. The nurse shook under his stare and he extended his uninjured arm to grab her.

However, an old woman stepped in between, irking the man quite a bit.

”Sir… please understand.”

It was the head nurse who moved forward, standing firm, and appearing extremely professional. ”Our medicine has run out. The person who knows is missing in action—”

”I DON’T CARE!” The man bellowed. ”HURRY UP! BITCH!”

This made the doctors walk over with deep frowns. This was especially true for Dr. Volohov, the husband of the head nurse.

The man continued shouting on the woman’s face and the doctor immediately stepped forward. He wasn’t young and had white hair all over like his wife. ”We would appreciate it if you don’t speak to us that way—”

BANG!

The old doctor’s sentence was cut when a fist hit his face, and he was thrown barrelling to the wall, hitting a few other people on the way.

”Doctor!” the people yelled and his wife urgently ran to check on him. ”Honey!”

The man—a man named Rip—didn’t seem to care at all. He was just annoyed at the interruption. ”Dare talk back?!”

”YOU—”

The man lifted his head and looked down at them. ”What? What do you wanna say?!”

This made them shut up and look down, angry. This man was a few levels above them. They naturally didn’t want to go head-on against him.

Rip found himself smiling a bit at his effect, the despair and helplessness of the previous fight being buried. This was how it should be, he thought.

He couldn’t help but recall the fight he had just escaped an hour before. They were against a small group of Alterans but, surprisingly, their own bastards decided to join in!

He had seen some familiar faces! He had beaten them up a few times because their faces annoyed him! Then they dared to attack him?!

He could still remember the sting of a sword slashing his arm and a spear poking at his legs—both of which coming from brats he thought of as trash!

How dare they! How dare they!

The annoyance created a dark murderous atmosphere around him, making the nurses and doctors really fear for their lives.

They were scared. Now that there was no medicine and there was little they could do, would they be tagged as useless? Would these men vent on them too until they died like so many others?!

After struggling for so long, would that still be their fates in the end?!