I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World

The wind, sharp as knife, gusted across the frozen soil.

It was the middle of autumn, but the brick and gravel was covered by a layer of frost.

The boots stepped on the rubble between the broken walls and made a creaking sound. The cold muzzle pointed at every shadow inside the ruins and fired occasionally. Black cotton gloves searched through the blood-stained bodies as they did not miss a single loot.

Even a winter coat, rugged, was dissected of its burnt cotton core and temperature control chip and loaded onto the supply truck.

As for the corpses completely looted, they were piled up in an open area. The hungry mutants feasted on them and saved them the effort of incineration.

Incineration required fuel, and with winter on the way, they didn’t want to waste a single bit of fuel, let alone waste it on the dead.

Five hundred meters away from the Badaling Military Outpost, hundreds of different types of tanks were quietly parked on the open ground, surrounded by dozens of base vehicles the size of old-fashioned trains. The large-sized tires sank into the dirt, and the four-mounted crawler carried the entire carriage.

Lines of soldiers wore kinetic skeletons and patrolled the camp. Even Death Claws could sense the deadliness from the organized force. They gritted their sharp fangs, but didn’t dare to advance a single step.

These Russians never set up camp.

The base vehicles surrounded by tanks were their barracks, warehouses and even factories. With the chassis lowered, the workers could pick up the hammers and sickles and begin working.

They used to be CCCP Border Guards, stationed in the frozen soil in the easternmost part of Siberia, to defend against NATO in Alaska across the sea. They inherited the legacy of the Soviets and ended their mission in the tenth year after the war. They began to migrate south.

No longer with an organization, they were like the nomads a few centuries ago, and cities were their pasture.

From the wilderness of the land of the extreme east of Siberia, all the way to the south, to the land of Pan-Asia Cooperation. Just like countless locusts, they crushed the seed of civilization and ravaged the ruins of the city until nothing was left…

In order to survive, they had already pushed their survival skill to the limit. No one knew the essence of scavenging more than they did. Even the most experienced scavengers in Wanghai would feel hopeless scavenging a city visited by the Russians.

Now, they finally survived the barren land and arrived at the fabled rich soil…

“The weather here is comparable to our spring.”

The man with a full moustache on the chair looked out the window and grinned. The wrinkles on his face twisted together. If he had an eye patch and a captain’s hat, he would look like a pirate from centuries ago.

On the table in front of him, there was a small half bottle of vodka. The galvanized sickle and hammer had worn out and it left only the bare surface.

He had been drinking this bottle for almost half a year. He usually would leave it in his box, except for when he was in a good mood. He would unscrew the cork, have a small sip, and reminiscent the good old times.

Obviously, his mood was great.

Quite great.

Just as he looked out of the window, the door of the base vehicle was pushed open. A middle-aged man in a CCCP military coat stepped his boot in. The man then stood straight and saluted.

“The supply statistics are complete.”

“How is the harvest?” Yegor asked, relaxed.

“Quite great! More than fifty boxes of nutrient supplies above Grade C. Enough to last us for half a month,” Sminov replied.

“Indeed, the rich soil,” Yegor raised an eyebrow before a cruel smile appeared. The wrinkles on his face became more and more menacing. “A military outpost harvest is almost the same as a survivor settlement in the Siberian wasteland.”

He was smiling happily, although in the eyes of others, this smile was horrifying.

“In addition, we found this in their commander’s personal belongings.” Sminov took an aluminum can from his waist and handed it over.

The smile on Yegor’s face froze.

Then it was shock, disbelief, and ecstasy.

He grabbed a can on the table, grabbed the dagger on the table, and cut a hole in the can. The oily gravy immediately oozed out along the edge of the knife. In less than ten seconds, the entire room was filled with the smell of marinated beef.

Sminov swallowed and looked away. He tried his best not to look at the can.

Yegor smeared the blade against his tongue, felt the aroma spread out on his taste buds, and licked his tongue. He tried to make the deliciousness stay on the tip of his tongue longer. Right now, he was almost in tears because of excitement.

Suddenly, Yegor woke up.

He first glanced at Sminov and saw that he didn’t look in his direction. Then he covered the crack on the can with his thumb and turned the can on its back. He saw that the bottom of the can had a small line of text.

[Fishbone Brand Canned Beef]

[Materials: beef, salt, monosodium glutamate, spices…]

[Production Date: 2192]

Sure enough, it was produced after the war!

Yegor felt his heart pounding, just like a beautiful woman had stripped naked and was teasing him.

Canned beef!

He couldn’t remember the last time he ate meat.

Ten years ago? Fifteen years ago?

However, the most exciting thing he wanted to shout was, the whatever bone base was not afraid of other people knowing its location, it even left another line of text after the date of production.

[Origin: Wanghai Sixth Street Food Processing Factory]

Yegor stared at Sminov as he put the canned beef aside,

“How many more canned beefs do we have?”

Sminov lowered his head and replied.

“That’s all. But in the private baggage of other soldiers, we also found something like compressed crackers, instant noodles, etc…”

“Are they all Fishbone Brand?”

“Precisely…” Sminov nodded.

“Excellent!” Yegor inserted the knife into the aluminum table, and suddenly stood up, laughing hysterically. “Great Fishbone! God bless East Siberian Border Guards! Sure enough, heaven is in the south!”

After that, Yegor glanced at Sminov and ordered.

“Under my command, the army shall advance 20 kilometers in the southeast direction. In addition, send the 13th Tank Squadron into the city to test the strength of Shangjing survivors! If they are just a bunch of fat sheep, we’ll push in!”

“Yes Sir!” Sminov saluted and left.

“After taking over Shangjing, we will go all the way to the south, and take a look at Wanghai! We’ll see how much cattle they have, how much fertile land they have! ”

Looking at the canned beef on the table, Yegor laughed.

All the resistance would be turned into a dust under the tanks!

No one could stop his steel torrent!

No one! No organization!

Yegor gazed emotionally into the distance as he licked his thumb full of meat juice.