More people began to arrive, and the settlent continued to expand.
Gradually, survivors trickled in from the surrounding ruins, especially after the news of Wester’s kidnappings spread.
Many who had been hiding alone or moving cautiously between broken districts now chose the relative safety of the mayor’s settlent instead.
And with the growing population ca increased activity and organization. The need for proper institutions beca more evident with each passing day.
However, by bringing back as much as they could from the last raid, a new trend began to take shape within the settlent.
Even though much had gone wrong during the raid, the main objective had still been achieved to a reasonable extent.
Liam’s group and a neighboring raid team eventually discovered areas rich with killable spawns and usable resources.
Liam’s group encountered a roaming herd of low grade spawns and marked the location with blue flares, while the other raid group breached a large mall and signaled with a yellow flare to indicate recoverable supplies.
Thankfully, both groups were strong enough to achieve their goals on their own before the trucks were dispatched to their locations.
By the end of that day, over a hundred spawns had been hauled back, including those from Liam’s hunt and the ones Albert’s group had brought down earlier.
Along with the spawn remains, the raiders recovered dical equipnt, packaged drugs, clean water containers, preserved food, power tools, batteries, fuel canisters, communication devices, and various chanical parts from the mall.
The casualties were heavy, but at least, they managed to secure what they ca for, making life in the vicinity just a little better.
And this, in turn, drew even more people into the settlent.
One thing that had begun to trend in recent days was the rising popularity of a new dish.
People had started calling it Ashat Curry, spawn at cooked with mashroot tree curry.
It was a strange delicacy, its flavor varying depending on the type of spawn used, but surprisingly sweet and rich overall.
The bars and food stalls were beginning to lean heavily toward serving the dish, and it quickly beca a staple among the raiders and workers.
All of this pushed the settlent forward.
The vicinity felt different now, not just in structure, but in spirit. People gathered in small circles to trade stories, argue over food portions, laugh over shared drinks, and plan the next day’s work.
Even in a ruined world, sothing like a community was beginning to take shape.
But beneath the growing life, other kinds of talks were brewing. Rumors, ideas, and ambitions were quietly gaining traction.
Maxwell stood outside a half-rebuilt watchtower overlooking one of the busier streets, watching people move about their daily routines.
Makeshift stalls lined the road, smoke rising from cooking fires as patrols passed through in pairs.
Beside him stood a young woman with long, ssy black hair. Her black eyes were hidden behind sagging glasses that she kept pushing up her nose.
A book was tucked under her arm and a pen already poised in her fingers.
"It seems like everyone was thinking the sa thing after all," Maxwell said.
She nodded faintly.
"Perhaps, this might be a more effective thod. This way, we might boost so sort of economy and reduce the drag from too many people heading out at the sa ti" he said.
Then he stroked his partially grey beards.
"We need to make sothing out of this, Margaret" he continued. "Inform Albert and the rest. Let us proceed with the plan we had in mind."
"Yes sir" Margaret said, gesturing slightly as she opened the book with her.
"There are many promising groups out there. We should work to get them with us as soon as we can"
---
"What did you say?"
Tye had just returned from strolling through the mayor’s settlent that morning.
"There’s an announcent from the mayor about the creation of a Guild Union or sothing," he said.
Redd sat outside their hideout on a chunk of broken concrete with several fresh bandages wrapped around his arm and shoulder.
Dust clung to his clothes, and dried blood stained the edge of his sleeve. Beside him sat their green haired mber, Leo, leaning back against a cracked wall.
Their hideout was surrounded by ruins. Collapsed buildings ford a jagged ring around the area, twisted tal and shattered stone stacked like grave markers.
The air still slled faintly of smoke and rust, and the distant noise of the settlent drifted in through the broken streets.
Rybie sat on a separate slab of rubble, leaning forward as he looked down at them.
"A guild union, huh," he muttered. "Since more people are trying to raid independently, they want an association to oversee everything. Typical of an upcoming vicinity."
Redd clicked his tongue.
"And what’s in it for us?" he asked. "We can already go out there and get what we need ourselves."
In truth, raiding had beco possible for those strong enough. Not every incarnation could survive outside the vicinity yet.
Only those who had participated actively through the Skydart Plague, the first gate, the early raids had a higher capacity of handling F and E grade spawns with so consistency.
A few particularly talented fighters could even manage certain D-grades.
But even then, it was never safe.
Rybie had promised them coverage if they ran into higher-grade threats, but not many Erwalds were willing to offer that kind of protection.
Those who did only backed groups that could at least hold their own against upper D-grade spawns.
The risk remained high. C-, B-, even A-grade spawns were rare, but running into one by sheer bad luck was still possible.
And in those cases, there was no room for mistakes.
Redd huffed again.
"I don’t really care about any of that," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "Right now, we should find Icard."
He wasn’t interested in whatever the mayor was planning. But if Icard decided to join this so-called union, Redd figured they might follow along too.
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