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I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World Chapter 1391 - Who told you that it's just us?

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Chapter 1391: Who told you that it’s just us?


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 s.h.i.+eld, 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 s.h.i.+p 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 t.i.tle, 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 sh.e.l.l 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 s.h.i.+p after all.”


“Slaves?” Black Skull’s ears perked up but he waved his hand as if the matter did not concern him. “They are everywhere, why trade them with caps? Rodney, take a few trucks of our men around the city and catch some. Also, get me some big booty blondes.”


“Yes, boss, count on me,” Rodney said excitedly with a bloodthirsty glow in his eyes.


The days of watching slaves work had made him feel bored a long time ago.


In his bones, he was a militant. Although life here was comfortable, it was not the life Rodney wanted. Only looting and killing made him feel sparks of joy in his heart.


Bills could only show a bitter smile on his face. He sighed in his mind and thought that his boss was not destined to become a warlord. Even if NAC left him an entire city, it would only become a marauder’s castle in his hands. Once they squandered NAC’s loot, they would have to return to the desert.


Bills wanted to say something more but decided to close his mouth. Instead, he lowered his head and walked back.


Although his boss could occasionally listen to other’s opinions, he could never persuade him in anything related to principles. He could find all the typical shortcomings, such as laziness, stubbornness, stupidity, never thinking about tomorrow…


Before the war, this idiot would have starved to death in a slum.


But now in the apocalypse, on the wasteland, violence was the only criterion. Whoever had the biggest fist was the boss…



On the other side, Jiang Chen took his guards and returned to Santa Monica Airport before the Sun went down. When he just walked into the airport building, he happened to see the two recruited overseers walking out from the ticket gate with two corpses.


Judging from the tattoos on the corpses, they most likely belonged to predators who were planning to escape.


Jiang Chen was never polite to the predators that used their crooked brains to plot against him. He had already told his captain and Han Yue that if they encountered any disobedient predator s to just shoot.


After Jiang Chen entered the lobby, he saw Zheng Shanhe sitting there studying a map. Jessica marked all the survivor settlements, predator camps, and even fallout shelters she knew on the Los Angeles city map attached to the airport brochure.


When Zheng Shanhe saw Jiang Chen come in, he immediately put away the map, stood up, and saluted.


“How is the progress on the runway?”


Zheng Shanhe immediately reported, “A few disobedient predators were made examples, and now these foreigners are much more obedient. Now the runway has been repaired to 40%. If we work overnight, it should be fixed before noon tomorrow.”


“Very good.” Jiang Chen nodded.


Zheng Shanhe glanced at the people squatting in the corner of the waiting room, then he asked Jiang Chen for instructions, “What about those people? Should we continue to feed them?”


“In a bit, get them downstairs and ask if they are willing to work for NAC. If they are willing to stay, three nutrient supplies a day, and after two months, the compensation can be improved. If they are not willing, then just let them leave and don’t let them get in the way here.”


The price of three nutrient supplies was worth around five to ten caps. Most survivors could barely fill their stomach with two tubes a day. For these poor people without a steady source of income, the compensation was very generous.


Based on the unwritten rules on the wasteland, NAC destroyed Airport Gang so these prisoners would continue to be slaves under NAC as spoils. Now, NAC was willing to give them compensation for their work. They would definitely sincerely express their grat.i.tude for this generous treatment.


After these fifty people joined them and were armed with a few guns, a cannon fodder force could be formed.


“I’ll go now.”


“Wait a moment, this is not a priority,” Jiang Chen stopped Zheng Shanhe, sat down, and continued, “I have something else more crucial to discuss with you.”


Zheng Shanhe respectfully waited for Jiang Chen’s instruction.


“I plan to take the colony back from Black Skull. Based on what Han Yue said, they have a lot of our slaves, and most likely they are still alive. And the resources they have looted away, they are such a waste in their hands.”


“Just with us?” Zheng Shanhan digested the information and began to sweat, “This is too risky, we should wait for the expeditionary force…”


“It will take at least a month for the expeditionary force to arrive. in North America and it will be more problematic if they force the slaves stand in the front.” Jiang Chen looked at Zheng Shanhe, who wanted to say something but was reluctant to do so, then he laughed and continued on, “Also, who told you that it’s just us?”

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I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World Chapter 1391 - Who told you that it's just us? summary

You're reading I Have a Mansion in the Post-apocalyptic World. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): 晨星ll, Morning Star Ll. Already has 573 views.

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