Thanks to global warming, the primeval forests near the Greater Khingan Mountains aren't as cold as they were decades ago. Vasily has built a massive, semi-buried warehouse here as a home for himself and his foxes. Larisa, now able to speak, is watching a movie in the haystack—using a projector, of course.
The snowstorm sweeping across the north couldn't disturb the tranquility here. A few fox cubs Larissa had picked up were playing and frolicking in her tail. Perhaps the legendary "global warming" was just a joke among scientists. At least this country couldn't experience any warmth at all.
The harsh words of those people in the west always made the winter in this country extremely cold. This was one of the reasons why they chose to move east.
"Those places have been contaminated by nuclear wastewater, and the entire Europe is polluted!" When Vasily saw the news, he thought that the news companies in his own country had also started to fabricate information. It was not until a few years later, when the population there began to decline sharply, that he was surprised to believe the facts.
He was out there processing the kill Larissa had taken: two enormous wild boars. God knows how they'd grown so large; perhaps the world had quietly changed during his days patrolling the mountains. He thought it would be best to process them using traditional methods; the pinewood-smoked meat would last for decades.
"This must be a big project and it will probably take a long time!" He thought as he used the chainsaw to cut the tendons.
. . . . . .
Area A4 is a cargo transfer station. Like the logistics centers of yesteryear, it's bustling with intelligent machines and transport vehicles. But this place is incredibly vast. It's hard to imagine how humans managed to dig such a massive warehouse so deep in this icy continent.
"Actually, this is just a large tunnel and a converted coal mine!" An old man, who knew the history of the area, explained to the group, "The tunneling and mining machines were all made in that ancient civilization. You'll definitely be able to see them later! One of the drill blades is as long as a person."
The uncle hadn't finished speaking yet. He wasn't as taciturn as others had imagined. "Look at the scratches on the rock wall. Those were man-made! Look, there are heating rods there. They lead to the deeper mantle."
Everyone looked around as he spoke. In the center of the warehouse was a huge metal rod. According to the old uncle, this heating rod was also made by that ancient civilization. If it could make anything, why didn't it create more spaces like this so that everyone would have enough place to live?
The uncle was worthy of being the uncle, and he quickly led everyone to find the transport vehicle containing the secret weapon. According to the plan, they could not inspect the weapon, but only fill the vehicle with gas and drive it to the control center.
The control center is certainly not on this floor. If it were here, they would not use the method they are using now. The road to the control center does not lead directly here, so they must pass through a transfer station first.
The uncle led them through the temperature control system—or, more precisely, a particular pipe within it. The pipes were wide enough for transport trucks to pass through, but most of the time, only hardy "intelligent machines" could operate here. The temperature here varied wildly; sometimes it could freeze a person into an ice sculpture, and sometimes it would scorch them to charcoal. Those working here had to master these rules; those with poor memory often wouldn't last more than a week.
Under the uncle's instructions, they sped the car to 60 mph. Don't underestimate this speed. This tracked vehicle that can run in ice and snow could only drive at 45 mph five years ago. It was because they couldn't drive that fast at the time that they couldn't bypass the heavily guarded checkpoint from this good location.
The journey was smooth, but when the two accompanying us closed the insulated door, we heard the sound of airflow in the pipe. This time it was a cold wind, and several people watched as frost quickly covered the observation window of the insulated door.
A little further on, we arrived at Area 2, a true factory area, with numerous machines at work, making a tremendous amount of noise and releasing toxic fumes. No one could survive here, except, of course, "intelligent machines."
"Be careful, don't hit those machines! Our transport vehicles are not that strong!" The co-pilot knew the models of those machines at a glance. He was quite knowledgeable.
"How do you say that?"
"They are all outdated models. They must have been transferred from someone else."
"Those radioactive people are really down!"
"No, not enough. At least not enough for us to handle."
"That one in the middle should be the reactor, right? It's huge!"
"That's just one of them! You haven't seen that little thing in the East District, haha, it's just a tiny bit."
"But the East District is much better than here. At least they only use real smart machines."
"Have you ever seen it? I only know that the East District is actually the same as here! It's just that those people are their own people! I really can't imagine that they can enslave their own people without any psychological burden!"
"What?! I really don't know. I've only seen it on the news, and their news seems very real."
“…”
"You just don't understand them."
When they discussed the situation in the East District, they all fell silent for a long time. All happiness and suffering stem from comparison, just like the old saying, "It's not the lack of wealth that's worrying, but the inequality of it." They felt a little sympathetic towards those still suffering, but that was all they could do; they couldn't help them.
. . . . . .
After passing through several huge gates and winding through many twists and turns, everyone was greeted by a long slope, at the end of which was the so-called Area 1. In everyone's mind, that place should be a prosperous and beautiful home, with rows of streets, clean and straight roads, beautiful artificial gardens, and fresh, sweet air.
But that was just the imagination of the struggling lower classes. This wasn't some "hive city." As they adjusted to the light, they saw only a post-apocalyptic scene: empty streets, garbage-strewn roads, abandoned gardens, and air filled with acrid odors. It was even worse than the loathed Area 3, for the temperature regulation seemed to be failing.
The transporter continued its journey without any obstruction. Only when it reached the control center did the crowd notice any movement.
"Stop, I say, you, stop! Accept inspection!" A two-meter-tall figure rushed out from the building next to it. This person should be equipped with some type of exoskeleton armor, but not the polar-modified type.
"Something is wrong! It wasn't like this the last time we came here!" A teammate who looked neater and was sitting in the back noticed something unusual. He had sneaked in here before and worked as a waiter here for two years.
"How long ago was the last time?"
"Enough of the idle chatter! Speed up and rush over! There's something wrong with these people!"
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