Terra Tinkers Construct is fine.

He turned and left, his mind racing: he couldn't just throw out such terrifying prophecies of natural disasters and destruction; to those gang leaders lurking in the gray areas, it would be nothing but nonsense, or it would only invite more unnecessary scrutiny.

However, if the goal is simply to appease them in the short term, a different approach would be easier: a powerful outside gang, eyeing the interests of the Chernobog underworld, first secretly eliminated the "Steel Pipeline" as a springboard, and now, having ascertained the situation, further crushed the Rifttooth, using this as a means to make its voice heard.

Now, this newcomer is willing to sit down and talk to its new neighbor, and its goal is clear—to take over the family's territory and business, and hopes to "coexist peacefully" with the local forces and establish new rules for interests.

Greed is an eternal theme in the underworld, and it is also the logic that is easiest for these people to believe, because it is the underlying logic of gangs. In terms of short-sightedness and compromise, it is no less than that of capital. They need to be afraid, but also give them a false sense of "everyone is at peace", so that they understand that cooperation and fear can bring temporary peace.

—As for things that will last longer… we can talk about it after the storm that the adults predicted has passed.

As Alexei walked toward the other team members, he meticulously planned his strategy in his mind; he reached the gate of the stronghold, where several new recruits in white armor were making a ruckus outside. Alexei looked up and saw—

They saw a tall, thin Ursus man hanging high on the wall, with a section of arrow fletching protruding from his chest. The fletching was white and the shaft was translucent, and even at this moment, it was reflecting a beautiful rainbow light on the ground.

"...Oh, this is it."

Alexei understood.

Besides Alexei, Milan's first choice for the squad actually consisted of two parts from the beginning: one part was like Alexei, who was pulled out of hell by Milan and were mostly infected because their current lives had crippled Milan.

While they might not be considered deities, they were certainly all die-hard fans.

The other group, as everyone knows, consists of the remnants of the original gang, the "Steel Pipeline."

They were originally just maintenance workers for underground equipment. They were forced to join the gang to protect themselves, doing manual labor jobs that were forcibly assigned to them to make a living. They didn't even have the opportunity to commit crimes. Milan's arrival was like a storm, destroying the old gang criminals who had no morals, but leaving them as survivors.

At the beginning, all they needed was a few locals to help them get familiar with the environment and handle miscellaneous tasks. They were trembling with fear, thinking that the future would be the same as before, just working hard to fool the upper class and getting by. But they unexpectedly received an unprecedented food ration, which allowed them to fill their own stomachs and reduce the burden of family expenses. They even received real Chervin coins.

During this period alone, even when they went home from get off work, they felt that their backs were straighter than before.

He had thought this was already an unexpected stroke of luck, and even discussed with other workers in private how long they could endure such days—the saying that "bad people come from poor and remote places" may be unfair, but at least they could fill their stomachs these days, and the eyes of his fellow workers who might have had some ulterior motives had become much clearer.

But things unfolded far beyond his imagination.

The influx of infected individuals, their strong loyalty to Milan, their professional military training, and their advanced equipment have now become a tangible reality in which they have crushed a large gang.

This was no longer the gang he knew that just loafed around.

He dared not even think about it too much, yet he couldn't help but think about it: Milan's prophecy, that terrifying future that remained only in words, what exactly...?

"grown ups……"

Milan turned his head and saw Pavel carefully organizing his thoughts. His back, which had been gradually straightening these past few days, seemed to have hunched over again. As the visible leader of the "canned food" unit, he was naturally assigned a set of plated armor, and he was never refused training sessions. Although he lacked motivation in training, even though he did put in effort, he was still somewhat behind the assault team members who truly persevered.

For example, it's still a bit difficult for him to move around freely while wearing this gear.

His voice was somewhat hoarse as he spoke cautiously:

"IMHO."

"I... I and the original members have some concerns about the current situation..."

"I feel somewhat uneasy."

Milan didn't speak; he just stared at him quietly. He wasn't even wearing a helmet, allowing the man opposite him to clearly see his expression.

“We, sir, we are actually very grateful to you… Yes, of course we are very grateful.”

He said with difficulty, "You gave us food to eat and a peaceful life, unlike before when we... well, we originally thought that it would be good enough if we just relied on you for food."

“We don’t really feel the natural disasters and man-made calamities you mentioned – even if you really leave, we’ll just change our storefront and life will still go on.”

"But now..."

His voice, though tinged with fear, seemed to harden slightly: "You've struck down the Cracked Tooth and are about to issue orders to the entire plot... You won't be staying here long, but what will we do after the end of the month?"

"We're just pipeline maintenance workers, forced into the steel pipeline industry, and we haven't done anything wrong. We...we never thought about it...and if disaster really strikes, how will we survive?"

His voice became lower and lower.

These low-level workers are like ants suddenly swept into a torrent. They only wanted to pick up some food on the shore, but suddenly found that the water level under their feet had risen sharply and a whirlpool had formed. The sudden change and the clearly visible countdown left them at a loss.

They experienced a level of abundance they never imagined, but they also witnessed incomprehensible turmoil. This sense of uncertainty about the future and helplessness was even more terrifying to them than the bloodshed that had been so close before.

But Milan did not respond immediately.

He simply watched Pavel quietly, watching the middle-aged Ursus man's body tremble more and more, yet then stabilize itself from the trembling; Pavel kept his head down for a long time, not knowing how long he remained stiff, before finally mustering a little courage to raise his eyes.

Milan smiled.

“Pavel, lift your head.”

His voice made the man pause, and he raised his face tremblingly; Milan looked into his eyes and said, "Tell me the truth, Pavel, as for you and your workers—yes, workers, I don't care what your Rust Gang did before, and I can't be bothered to think about what others might have done."

"Just tell me the truth, do you think I've ever wronged you?"

Pavel: "..."

He looked at Milan's seemingly smiling expression, opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.

“I’m keeping you here because you’re not even close to being guilty of any crime; I’m giving you food and pay because I don’t want to cause myself any trouble—I call it a favor, but you can also think of it as a transaction.”

"This deal is quite significant, isn't it? I've kept my promise."

Milan said, "You are doing better than before, earning more, and all you need to do is do what you were supposed to do."

"I told you about the natural disaster two weeks ago."

He paused, his tone even seeming to be quite intrigued: "Natural disasters aren't my doing... Oh, the demise of [Steel Pipeline] is now being blamed on [Canned Food], but none of the members of [Canned Food] know about it. You can take the previously mentioned public leader as a joke."

“You and your coworkers want to get away from me, not participate in my plans or the gang’s label—I don’t care. I can even leave you your equipment. It’s not too late. After you leave, no one will know that you were once my subordinates. Not even other gangs will know that I am the leader.”

"But after I told you that disaster was coming, and gave you a month's buffer and resources far exceeding those of ordinary people, what else do you expect from me?"

Milan tilted his head.

“Those young men have joined my ranks, eat my food, wear my armor, and are willing to fight to the death for me… You can’t just assume I should keep providing meals just because you know I can provide them, right?”

"Do I owe you anything?"

—I've given you guys a chance.

—I've given you more than one chance.

—Even now, including Pavel.

Chapter 73 Gang Wars

Milan doesn't consider himself a demon, nor is he the type to use people as tools and then discard them, neither remembering their achievements nor cherishing friendships—except for MC tools that will actually break when their durability runs out, he usually keeps the old Tinkers' Construct tools that have been upgraded and iterated in a special chest.

With so many storage modules, it won't make a difference if we add one or two boxes of space.

But his first reaction to Pavel's statement was: people really do laugh when they're speechless.

"Pavel, are you blaming me?"

Milan said, "You blame me for defeating your former gang, killing Boris, now standing at the top of this underground hierarchy, and for telling you things you wouldn't have known, and for seeing incomprehensible dangers."

"Because I disrupted your perceived rhythm of life, and I'm unwilling to take unlimited responsibility... So, are you blaming me?"

His voice wasn't sharp or cold; it even carried a hint of interest.

Pavel broke out in a cold sweat immediately.

"No, no, my lord! That's not what I meant!"

He quickly said, "We were blinded by fear, we were greedy! We dare not ask you for more guarantees, not because you have wronged us, but because we need you more!"

"We...we just don't know what to do!"

A grown man knelt down with a thud, his voice trembling as he said, "We're just a bunch of incompetent workers. We know nothing but how to fix pipes and valves! We can't compare to those young people and the infected. They've put in so much effort here, so it's only right that they get better treatment than us—but we really have no other choice!"

"Sir, please show us a way out! Even just a hint... or right now, just give the word, please, considering we've done some menial tasks for you, could you give us a chance?"

Is it too late now?

Some things, or rather trends, will change with the development of the times and the progress of society—for example, ten years ago, the protagonists of various online novels might have had a different attitude towards "begging".

In a sense, it directly reflects the senses and attitudes of the "readers" as a group of audience members.

But now it's completely different—for example, Milan's immediate reaction was: Are you going to resort to moral blackmail now?

It's called moral blackmail, I guess.

However, looking at him like this, Milan thought again and realized that it wasn't that disgusting: if Pavel were the type to use moral blackmail, his scenes would have been finished about a month ago (February 6).

And now... perhaps, as he said, he and the former Rust Gang workers he represented simply had no other choice.

"so?"

Milan said, "I don't think I said anything about cutting you off, except for those infected and the teams that have already trained."

"...So, sir! You never intended to abandon us!"

Pavel, who was kneeling on the ground, suddenly raised his head.

Milan neither nodded nor shook his head, but said bluntly, "There is no conflict."

“I’ve said before that I would be leaving Chernobog by the end of this month at the latest… If I were to add any more specific details, it would be [people who are willing to leave with me].

“Now the problem is yours, Pavel—I was planning to say this next week, but since you’ve brought it up now…”

"Are you and your colleagues truly prepared, even before the natural disaster strikes, to abandon your foundation in Chernobog and leave with me?"

The news that "Cracktooth" had been defeated and outsiders had taken over their territory spread quickly thanks to Alexei's efforts, causing considerable chaos in this stagnant underground world.

Especially considering that several gang leaders of varying sizes in the local area and surrounding areas all received the same notification—a notification from an obscure force demanding that they all attend a meeting.

"Canned goods? Where did these onions come from?"

"He took down Cracktooth...who knows if it was just pure luck, or if he had some powerful backer; you want me to come and support you? Dream on!"

This is the self-important and short-tempered type.

"The Cracktooth gang is quite strong, especially their officers... We haven't heard anything else from them. Could it be that old scarred-face was really killed, or that they don't have many men left?"

"Hiss... hard to say, should we go check the situation?"

This is a relatively cautious type.

"Interesting, interesting! Finally, someone with a temper has arrived. Maybe this will liven up this place!"

"Tell them I'll be there on time! I want to see which heroes they are that can give me a good beating!"

This is the type of Chun Chun Mang (II) Lin Shan IV Fu.

Panic, disdain, curiosity, vigilance—various emotions spread in different hideouts; lately, the situation in Chernobog has become increasingly strange, with frequent incidents of friction among infected individuals. The military and police are busy running around, seemingly unable to keep up with the situation, which has made these gangs a little more relaxed.

But in any case, the name "Canned Goods" entered the group's field of vision for the first time; most gangs decided to wait and see, or at least send a representative to see what was going on.

However, not all forces are merely observing or negotiating; there are also…

"That's the situation... This [Canned Food] has an unknown origin, but seems to be very powerful. After all, Rifttooth is no pushover. They're now gathering people from other gangs to hold a meeting, probably to set rules, or at least to announce that they've taken over Rifttooth's former territory."

Inside the "Red Scar" stronghold, a burly Ursus man stood respectfully before a figure; the figure before him wore a hooded cloak, was slender, and had legs encased in black stockings that outlined their delicate features, yet the burly man showed no sign of disrespect.

"We are all compatriots, there's no need to be so respectful to me."

A short, figure wearing a black cloak with orange-red markings and a mask resembling a gas mask underneath shook his head, a muffled voice coming from below:

"But we can't let this go... A bunch of nobody out of nowhere dares to disrupt our plans?"

Although the sound was distorted, the burly man could still see the cold killing intent in the boy's eyes behind the mask and lenses of the figure.

"Are you sure they aren't government lackeys? Or perhaps tools of some nobleman?"

"It doesn't look like it."

The burly man shook his head: "Their approach is very direct. Although it's hard to comment on the attack, I heard they came from the wilderness and were very ruthless. They're clearly up to no good."

"Is this coming with bad intentions?"

A cold snort came from beneath the mask, filled with undisguised sarcasm: "Is there anything more malevolent in this city than the Ursus authorities, and those persecutors who claim to be ordinary people?"

"..."

The burly man didn't answer the question, nor did he press for an answer. Instead, he said to himself, "George, do you think the infected can live like humans, instead of surviving like rats in a sewer, relying on the charity of the uninfected, or even tearing each other apart?"

Georg: "..."

His facial muscles twitched, speechless on the topic: for various reasons, most of his gang members were infected. They were alright among themselves, but they were always ostracized in their external activities and could only survive in the cracks. The emergence of the Reunion Movement and the ideas brought by this cadre who called himself "Bonebreaker" were indeed a breath of fresh air for him. This cadre and his skilled subordinates showed him the light behind the initial glimmer.

Although this hope was accompanied by an extreme that made him somewhat uneasy, much like the ideology of their leader, which was fanatical and inflammatory—although he was also infected, to maintain the entire gang and their families, his style of doing things was more about seeking stability first and avoiding trouble.

However, these ideas and slogans spread faster and more powerfully among his subordinates. "The infected should speak out against the injustices they suffer in the most straightforward way"—by the time he came to his senses, the scale of this idea spreading among his subordinates had become undeniable.

Even the infected people under his command began to look at the non-infected people who were like family to him in the past, or even many of whom were originally family members, with a somewhat subtle change in their gaze.

Perhaps this is not an issue that should be ignored in the first place.