Chapter 107 A Bountiful Harvest
Steven knew he didn't have the luxury of time. The days were perilously short, and the nights crept in like thieves. If he didn't locate the armory soon, he'd be forced to navigate his return in the suffocating darkness. Fortunately, finding the dormitory had provided him with a crucial reference point.Climbing out of the dormitory, he surveyed the surrounding landscape, mentally retracing the directions Henry had given him. The excavator roared back to life, churning through the snow with mechanical efficiency. It wasn't long before Steven identified the location of the armory—a nondescript, concrete edifice, partially buried under the winter onslaught.
The entrance was marked by a formidable iron door, secured by a heavy silver lock. Steven pulled out a crowbar and attacked the lock with all his might, but it held steadfast against his efforts. Frustration mounting, he rested his hands on his hips, casting about for another solution. Then it struck him. With a self-deprecating laugh, he remembered the excavator he'd brought.
Scrambling back into the machine, he maneuvered it deftly, using its sheer power to shatter the lock. The door groaned open, revealing the armory's interior—a sight to quicken the pulse of any survivalist.
For the first time, Steven beheld a true armory, lined with iron racks brimming with dark, menacing rifles. Gray-green boxes of unknown metal, sturdy and weighty, lined the shelves. Camouflage uniforms and helmets adorned the walls, and a smattering of spray paint cans lay beneath the racks.
He breathed deeply, taking it all in, before systematically beginning to stash the rifles into his extradimensional space. Though he had more firearms now than he could ever personally use, he collected them meticulously—reserves for an uncertain future, perhaps to arm a doomsday survival team one day.
His real interest lay elsewhere. Rifles were all well and good, but bullets, grenades, and RPGs were what he sought. He approached the iron boxes, opening them with care. They held a veritable arsenal of ammunition: around two thousand rounds of handgun bullets, over five thousand rounds of various rifle bullets, and more than three hundred sniper bullets.
Steven's familiarity with firearms, honed at a shooting club, allowed him to assess their compatibility with different guns quickly. There, nestled among the ammunition, he found a military sniper rifle. Unlike the police models he was accustomed to, this rifle boasted superior adaptability to diverse environments—waterproof, dustproof, and even freeze-resistant. Though slightly less precise than his usual tools, Steven knew his marksmanship would more than make up for it.
But the real treasure lay in the ten boxes of grenades he discovered, each containing five, for a total of fifty explosive devices. The cache was more than he had hoped for.
Even as he marveled at his find, Steven couldn't help but consider the implications: if the soldiers had been deployed on missions, they would have taken a significant portion of the equipment. The urgency of their evacuation amidst the snow disaster explained the hasty departure, leaving substantial supplies behind.
'Enough for my needs,' Steven mused, but his mind kept churning. There had to be more. According to Henry, Starlight City housed a division, roughly 1,500 troops strong. This armory, though impressive, was unlikely to be the sole repository of weapons and supplies.
After securing the ordnance from the armory, Steven swung back into the excavator, continuing to clear snow along the concrete walls of the surrounding buildings. Soon, his perseverance paid off; he unearthed another armory nearby. Though this secondary cache was less abundant than the first, it still yielded thousands of rounds of bullets and two boxes of grenades.
Steven's satisfaction was palpable. With this newly acquired firepower, he could assert dominance in Starlight City with little challenge. Even though he had never handled grenades before, he could always turn to Henry for instruction or find a tutorial online. As for heavy weaponry, there was none to be found; the stationed troops were primarily infantry, sans artillery or tanks. Machine guns and other heavy arms were likely deployed on missions.
The abrupt snow disaster had inadvertently left Steven with a bounty that would otherwise be unimaginable. Feeling emboldened, Steven mused, 'These weapons are more than enough for me.'
The experience also provided a strategic insight: police stations and military units across cities would be prime targets for future scavenging. Steven's transportation capabilities meant he could traverse between towns, potentially uncovering more caches of weapons and supplies in satellite towns.
After scouring the area and confirming there wasn't anything else of immediate value, Steven mounted his motorcycle and left the military camp. He didn't venture far. The surrounding wilderness, dotted with trees, beckoned as an additional resource. Utilizing the excavator once again, he methodically felled trees, loading the timber into his extradimensional space.
By the time he returned, dusk had settled over Starlight City. The neighbors had assembled, expectant of his return, presumably hoping for food. Steven dismounted and approached them empty-handed. "I scoured many places today but came up short. You'll have to bear with it for now," he declared, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
He believed people shouldn't be fed too well; when they were full, they started having all sorts of thoughts. For example, yesterday, some people had asked for clothes.
His statement was met with a chorus of grievances. "What? No food today?" "Really? There are so many places outside, can't you search more?" "Without food, how uncomfortable will we be tonight?" they grumbled. One particularly vocal individual asked, "You've been busy all day and got nothing?"
Steven observed the disgruntled crowd with a bemused smile. "Are you done?"
The collective discontent seemed to simmer down under his steady gaze.
"Seems like some of you have forgotten your place," he continued, his tone sharpening. "You begged me to save you, yet you now think it's my duty to bring you food every day? If that's the case, maybe it's better if we go our separate ways. From now on, you can fend for yourselves."
The crowd was stunned into silence. Dennis, sensing the escalating tension, stepped forward quickly. "Mr. Rogers, that's not what we meant. We understand your hardships! With such heavy snow outside, it's truly hard to find food. Please, go back and take a rest first!"
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