Chapter 1391 - Who told you that it’s just us? (1/2)

Translator: _Min_  Editor: Rainystars

North American colony, Governor’s Mansion.

Black Skull sat on the chair that previously belonged to Zhou Guoping with both his feet on the desk. He bathed in the warm sunlight streaming through the window as he picked his teeth with a toothpick and played with the badge in his hand.

The bronze badge was gilded under the ray, and the three letters NAC, as well as a sword and a shield, were clearly visible. Black Skull did not know what this badge symbolized, but he did not care either. It was a trophy he took from the ship captain.

He stuffed the badge into his pocket casually, then yawned lazily.

There were no dry sands, no deadly poisonous scorpions, only the brackish sea breeze, and warm and welcoming sunlight. He had never dreamed of such a pleasant day, but now everything was so real.

Containers filled with canned food and compressed biscuits and the piles of rice and potatoes made him gain the extravagant idea of ​​”using some of the grain to make wine.” He only gave up on the idea because he was unable to find anyone skilled enough to do this.

As for the possibility of NAC seeking revenge…

To be honest, he was not very afraid of those Asians.

He had to admit that they were indeed very powerful, and if they used their full force, even the National Guards would have to admit defeat. However, he also had the confidence that he ruled this piece of land, and he had a particularly big fist.

Even in the worst-case scenario and NAC’s army came to North America to seek revenge, if he decided to hide in the Nevada desert, who could find him? He had prepared four or five of the abandoned fallout shelters for situations like this.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

It was his bone-headed strategist – The Crippled Bills, and the strong Slavic man with a mohawk – Rodney. One became the mayor of the outpost, and the other became the police sheriff, in charge of logistics and slaves.

And Black Skull was naturally the person in charge.

As for the specific title, he did not think of one yet.

“The mud crab breeding base has been cleaned up. What are these Asian’s heads made out of? Why didn’t anyone think about breeding these things before?” Rodney touched the hair on his head and said with some confusion.

Before the group of Asians came to North America, no one had ever tried the crab roe from mud crabs. The vast majority of people’s choice of food was either nutrient supplies with different raw ingredients or the two-headed Brahman beef with a texture like sand.

No one thought that a delicacy would be hidden inside the hard shell stronger than the power armor.

Of course, deliciousness was accompanied by danger.

While the slaves were cleaning the pond for breeding, Rodney witnessed several slaves get dragged down into the water by the powerful crabs and were mauled to death. The tragic scene of their miserable death even made his scalp numb.

“No matter what their heads are made out of, I only care about when my farm will resume production.” Black Skull said while he yawned and neglected Rodney’s confusion. In his opinion, no matter how smart and creative the yellow-skinned monkeys were, they eventually left everything for him. Without a doubt, he was the wisest and strongest in this wasteland.

“It has been resumed. I have arranged twenty slaves to run it. Whoever is lazy at work will be fed to the crabs.” Rodney smiled cruelly.

“What about you?” Black Skull looked at Bills and said lazily, “Is the inventory count done?”

“The inventory count has been completed and all the supplies are recorded on it.” As Bills responded, he flipped the book in his hand to the catalog and handed it to his boss respectfully. “Converted into bottle caps, these materials are worth at least 70 million. You are already the richest man on the West Coast.”

“Hahaha,” the shriveled laughter filled the room. After he had laughed enough, he sat back down on the chair.

He was quite satisfied with the term “rich”, especially after adding the prefix “the richest”. It made him more satisfied than ever.

As he flipped through the book, he nodded repeatedly and praised, “Good job, very good.”

“We have plenty of supplies now. I suggest taking some canned food to Liberty City for weapons and slaves.” While the boss was happy, Bills grinned and suggested, “We must prepare early. Sooner or later the National Guards will come after this, and NAC as well. We ransacked their entire cargo ship after all.”