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

For the Post Office, it was mostly aborigines who were lining up seriously. The other people… were lining up just for the sake of lining up. After all, they just got here a year ago and most hadn’t even left the Alterra Region yet. How many of them would have penpals in other towns?

Like the Pharmacy, the Post Office was also customized to fit the general aesthetic of the Town. Strictly speaking, this was the prettiest Post Office they had ever seen.

There was even a lovely waiting area with comfortable benches that could fit scores of waiting people. Even the announcement boards were themed….

Anyway, without further ado, the aborigines started sending letters while some Terrans looked over to watch how it was done.

Basically, they would simply place their letters on one of the marbled platforms behind the counter (which may or may not be manned) and then they would pay the fee which varied depending on the distance of its location.

The Post Office was amazing in a way that it could send in any Post Office in the world—regardless of how far it was—practically in an instant.

The letters would then be sent there and the names of the recipients would be displayed on the large display board. It had to be the real name too, so no one could use fake names to send and receive letters.

There was no automatic alert for the recipients either, and they had to take the letter in person. Speaking of this, at level 1, the letters would only be kept for 1 month. If a letter was unclaimed beyond that point, then it would be as good as gone. There would be no alert to the sender, either.

That was the purpose of hiring a person there—they were basically there to inform people that there were letters waiting for them.

Many wondered if the territory was hiring…

One of the people actually sending letters was Oslo, who sent some letters back home. When he heard a Post Office was being built, he and Honda (who was standing on the platform next to him) already composed his letters to each person in his family.

Speaking of this, the content of his letters, by habit, was something that had a ’normal’ tone at all times, and was absent of any sensitive information. They didn’t really know whether the Bleulle Lord would randomly decide to read his letters, after all.

All he said was that he—and Honda—was still relaxing in the village they sent him to, and he asked when they’d come to visit.

He had sent a letter before via Ferrol not long ago, though he decided to be clingy this time. He was getting a little worried for their lack of response the past week or so. They would usually send one weekly (and he’d pay the Terran Mercenary Team to use their messenger bird) particularly since Honda was with him.

He looked at his side to look at his nephew, who still had to tip-toe a bit to see above the platform. Seeing as he was fine and could send his own letters, Oslo proceeded to send the letter entrusted to him.

It was Rowan’s.

Rowan usually sent via messenger bird from Iron Mountains to the Ferrol branch, who then sent the post to her grandmother in Voumi Town. This would actually continue primarily because Ferrol was much closer to Iron Mountains than Alterra or Limestone Valley.

Oslo simply had a letter entrusted to him some time ago, when it was decided that Alterra was up for upgrade. He was asked to send it as soon as a Post Office was built. Apparently, it was to tell his grandma where he was stationed and send her letters directly in Alterra.

The person next to him in line was actually Betty. They gave each other polite nods, before Oslo and Honda went out to continue with their sight-seeing. The streets on the shop definitely weren’t ready yet, but there should be some indications of what would appear there.

For example, just as they exited the Post Office (after about half-an-hour of queuing) there were already signages posted in front of the shops. Some were pasted on the frontage, while some set up signages on posts.

”Unleash Your Style—More Clothes Coming soon!”

”Sweeten Your Day with Den’s Cotton Candy—Coming soon with more options!”

”Glamour Starts Here—Your New Salon Coming soon!”

”Clean Clothes, Happy Life! Your Favorite Cleaning Service Coming West!”

”Pens, Paper, Perfection! Nina’s Stationary Shop Coming soon!” Experience more content on freewebnovel

And so on.

Oslo laughed while Honda was just impressed. ”Alterrans really move quickly when it comes to money.”

”I wanna be rich too, uncle.”

Oslo chuckled, patting his head. ”Then better learn well.”

…

Back in the Post Office, Betty was finally sending a letter to her family. How many years had it been, she wondered.

Betty lived in a small town far West of Alterra—very far, at least a few months of travel from here. That was fine for her. When she was forcefully sent to the Chancery to help her brother, she admitted she felt bitter.

Not to mention, she specifically had to go to a Level 3 Town or a City because those had Level 2 Post Offices at the minimum, which could be used to send money.

She was only Level 14 at the time she was sent, not even 20 years old— sent as soon as she awakened the Healer Profession. Sending her to such powerful territories was sending her to beast dens.

However, because she was raised to follow orders—to always prioritize her brother—she accepted and did as she was told anyway. For the next ten years or so, she worked hard in order to pay her ’duties’ to them.

At first, while she was still weak, it was naturally dangerous and she was almost taken many—many—times. One day, a visiting nobleman targetted her, and she couldn’t do anything anymore.

However, she couldn’t stomach being touched by him at all, and—unlike so many other women—she actually fought back. She scratched his face and kicked him, trying to run.

However, the humiliation made the man livid instead. She remembered him taking out a knife from his space, and she was stabbed repeatedly in retaliation.

Somehow, her fellow healers managed to get to her in time, but she was never the same after that.

She was a bit scarred still, but they were mostly in her body. However, the light scars on her face were enough to make many men look at her in disgust.

Instead of being sad, she became enlightened.

From then on, even after she recovered, she didn’t lose her wounds. To avoid being targetted, she would lightly scar herself—her face, specifically— every few days, and then heal herself before they permanently scarred.

For more than ten years, this had been what she had to do to protect herself.

If one would question her pain tolerance, she would roll her eyes at them.

She then looked at the letter in her hand, soft fingers gripping it as she was plagued with complex thoughts. She didn’t think she’d want to talk with them ever again, but here she was.

Did she truly want to reconnect with them?