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

It was difficult to keep a clear head as an addict, but somehow he was granted some of the minor medicines that would soften up his withdrawals, make things easier for him to adjust bit by bit.

He had no idea that while he might not be close to many of the surviving Terran soldiers helping run Alterra, many knew of him, and had admired his achievements even when they were still privates. Many of them definitely hoped to make an acquaintance, but he had already retired by the time they were promoted enough to speak on similar levels as him.

As such, with so many people of power hoping that he recovered, he entered the priority list for the cure, just like that.

Before the supporting (observing popcorn-eating) Alterran party left to temporarily settle in Flaret before the war, they had the medicine with them already. They just didn’t carelessly approach him before the war was done, just in case someone was watching.

The old soldier then started to take it, at the party leader’s command, even before they left Flaret. It was like a small tablet he was asked to drink once a day before sleeping.

He didn’t really expect much—for months and even after the war, Gideon was just a brainless shriveling mess. But as he gained more and more clarity, more and more coherent thoughts, he started to realize what it was, and his heart welled in both confusion (why him?) and gratitude.

It was like he had been in a deep, deep pit, but was handed a rope and he was slowly pulled up, with increasing distance as the days passed by.

By the time he was clear-headed enough to feel extreme shame, they were already at the border of the Terran region.

Months ago, when he was forced to try the drug as a slave, he struggled to a fundamental level, but then he started dreaming of his family, and he got more and more hooked.

It was like all thought was just...gone, his mind focused on seeing his family again, not caring about how short-term it was, and not caring about the repercussions.

Without it and with a daily dose of the medicine, he was starting to see things more clearly, and a wave of shame enveloped him.

Getting hooked like that—didn’t that mean he believed even his son was truly gone?

Did he waste all that time shriveling on a dormitory floor, rather than finding a way to see his son?

It so happened that in one of the affiliated territories in the region, one of the Lords greeted them in glee.

They then overheard him tell the guards that they’d like to send an updated list of names to Alterra, in hopes of figuring out their locations if they were in any of the affiliated territories.

Of course, for a fee.

”It’s not a guarantee, even if you pay extra,” the Alterran said, managing expectations.

The Lord nodded, unperturbed. ”But with Alterra’s network and records of Terran names and their locations, you people are our best chance.”

That statement lit up a long-extinguished fire in many of them.

Alterra kept records of Terrans and their locations, at least those that remained in their region. Gideon’s heart beat wildly at the thought.

Wouldn’t he be able to see where his son could be? At this thought, he was even more determined to go to Alterra.

At this time, he had no idea his poor son was literally in Alterra, all he knew was that he was going to make use of Alterra’s ever-growing intelligence network to find his son!

...

It wasn’t just Gideon who had been healing even before they landed on Alterra.

The slaves that were left behind, to be transferred out after the war, were people who had mobility issues. Whether it was the addicts or those who lost a limb or two, they had been left behind.

One of them was Macha, one of Gian’s rescues. Macha was actually one of the newest batches as well, and was one of the people who had heard of Alterra before becoming a slave in Flaret.

When Gian said people would come and help them, taking the majority of the slaves with him outside the walls, he wanted to volunteer to come.

It was just that...he lost a leg during a monster mob a long time ago, and it was also how Gian bought him for cheap.

Before he was sold to Flaret, the Lord of his original village was stubborn and didn’t cooperate when Alterrans landed on their territory. So unlike others, they did not have a direct line to call for assistance when the war came.

In fact, when the war declaration happened, a batch of people left the territory, heading to the nearest allied territory. Macha couldn’t come with them, precisely because he lacked a leg.

This was why, when he found out the first batch was heading to Alterra, but leaving him and some others behind, he was disappointed but not surprised. He didn’t have a leg. What did he expect?

When they heard they won the war, he just thought the treatment of the remaining slaves would become more humane, but they would stay in this aborigine town.

Who’d have thought that they were going to be taken back, too?

There were people assigned to carry them. To keep things fair for the carriers and not to be taken for granted, the slaves were told they owed a few silver as a fare, and they happily obliged.

After becoming slaves, they had been dragged around, literally, because they could not walk properly or force themselves to take the pace their masters wanted.

Who’d have thought they’d experience being carried again?

...

The party arrived a few days later, and they could be said to have their mouths open in shock from seeing the walls outside, to walking along the avenue.

This type of territory was Terran—a territory only around two years old.

How could it be?!