Although the puddles and sticky pavement slowed their progress, the whole process went smoothly, and Mosilaire and Winnie soon arrived at the crash site of the ship.

Surprisingly, there weren't many zombies near the wreckage, just a few fools who didn't want to leave and lugging around the ship with their mutilated bodies - God knows where the rest of the zombies went, but neither Mosilaire nor Winnie were apparently too concerned about that.

The good news almost made them dizzy with excitement. Mosilaire was ready to race against death, only planning to snatch back as many resources as possible from the zombies, but in the current situation, it seems that there is no need for this.

Fate can sometimes be so capricious, and luckily, this time the dice rolled the numbers that Mosilaire needed.

Due to the small number of zombies around, these poor creatures, who may have almost rotten brains, barely noticed Mosilaire and Winnie, who were deliberately avoiding them.

Her ship had been destroyed into the steel ruins of the plains, but it still contained everything that kept them alive.

In a few moments they had filled the cart with all the food, parts, and cans they found, and even Wynnie's pouch was stuffed with some stuff, including a slightly scorched Rubik's cube that Winnie had found herself, and begged Mosilere to bring it back, and Mosilele agreed.

Before leaving, Mosilaire picked up a piece of armor that had been scarred and sunk into the mud, and finally gently laid down the fragment in the warm sunlight.

There is something more important in the central area of the nucleus. She'll be back.

In order not to attract the attention of the zombies, Mosilaire and Winnie cleaned up their things and immediately got up and returned to the base. They didn't go back in a straight line, but made a slight detour to prevent a discordant encounter with the zombies hanging behind them.

Mosilaire's chosen path was a little to the right, but much higher, so there wasn't much standing water and it wasn't muddy.

The weeds on the road have sprouted small spikes in the warm weather, and even some of the nearly dead shrubs and old trees have pulled out goose-yellow shoots.

Some of the shrubs that Mosilaire had never seen before also had tiny little flowers, which would be beautiful and charming when clustered together in a variety of colours.

Winnie would occasionally stop to gather berries and plant tubers that she knew were edible, and sometimes she could find unexpected gains in the warm mud - such as the herbs she was now uprooting and holding onto in her hands. - Its name is "Herb", and it is the product of artificial genetic concoction hundreds of years ago.

Mosilaire knew nothing about herbalism, but the results of these experiments, which had been spread to hundreds of planets, could cure almost every known injury,—— meaning that everyone could use it as a crappy doctor for children, without having to beat their chests to memorize the jumble of traditional medicines.

Of course, you don't expect it to work so well.

They just grow silently on these abandoned planets, saving one megalomaniac punk maniac after another with their soft bodies.

But you can always believe in the herb, especially since its appearance means that the region is finally enjoying a happy spring.

The cool breeze would be soft on her face, and Winnie, who circled around Mosilaire, was chirping like a little sparrow.

Mosilaire, who was pushing a small cart, felt more comfortable and comfortable than ever before.

If a skilled photographer happens to capture this scene, he'll get a heartwarming and vibrant photo — as long as he removes a disgusting zombie in the background that has accidentally entered the camera and has a few pieces of rotten flesh hanging from the skull shelf.

As he passed a small bush about five or six hundred meters from the base, the sound of thin branches grinding against each other caught Mosilaire's attention.

She immediately motioned for Winnie to be quiet, and raised the charged rifle that had been hanging from her chest for quick reflexes in front of her.

The charge rifle still has 45% of the charge left, which is enough for any situation.

Mosilaire didn't rush forward, and while she wasn't sure if it was a zombie, she was sure it wasn't the sound of wind in the woods. So she picked up another branch and threw it at the bush in front of her.

The hidden thing was frightened, and the sound became so rapid that the sound of the clutter was almost in a line, and it was speeding towards the depths of the woods not far away!

Mosilaire was also startled by the sound, but soon realized that the guy who had just hid in the bushes must be a living animal. Judging by the movement, it should be quite large, but as for what kind of gadget it is, I'm afraid she has no way of knowing.

If she had shot directly just now, she would have hit directly,—— but there is no regret medicine in the world, and Mosilaire's great-grandfather often said this.

Her great-grandfather was a very intelligent old Chinese man, and sentences full of wisdom and philosophical thoughts would always pop out of his mouth.

She missed him very much, but unfortunately he stubbornly refused and reprimanded the cryotechnology, and only lived 163 biological years before he died of nanometabolic lag.

Although the meat delivered to him slyly slipped away, Mosilaire did not feel much regret. A cart stuffed with fabulous food and a backpack full of useful supplies was her biggest takeaway for the day – at least that's what she comforted herself.

But Mosilele seemed to be particularly fortunate to-day, and before they could go any longer, Winnie whispered a flock of birds playing in the small pond in front of her, still deeply chagrined.

This lifted Mosilelle's spirits, and his eyes unabashedly revealed greed when he looked at the brightly colored mallard.

Maybe in her eyes, these little things are no different from roast duck floating on the water, filled with spices and preserved fruits—and even they are still giving her an enticing aroma, aren't they?

Her saliva was almost filling the small pond.

Mosilaire shouted to Winnie to be alert to nearby danger, and he turned down the power of his charged rifle and lay on the ground and quietly aimed at one of the mallards with shiny feathers, which looked like he had been eating well lately.

This fat and big little thing didn't know that it was dying, and it was still pewing at the aquatic plants and small shrimps on its own.

Mosilaire took a deep breath and fired a series of precise bursts with her charged rifle, all of which hit a cloud of air around the mallard - it seemed that she was trying to suffocate the mallard from being unable to breathe - but it was clear that the mallard was still alive, so her playful plan was completely frustrated.

And even though the movement of the charge gun shot was so small, the splash still disturbed the ducks. Seeing that the beaked duck was about to fly, Mosilaire fired a few random shots in a hurry, and it happened to hit an unlucky guy.

The unfortunate bastard was shot in the abdomen and staggered in mid-air, making a splash when he fell into the water.

The badly wounded creature ended up floating limply on the water, and it looked like he was hopeless.

Mosile, who had been hit hard and fell into self-denial just now, was overjoyed to see this, and was excited to pick up Winnie on the side and kiss her, but Winnie was a little confused, so she had to touch the back of her head stupidly and laugh a few times.

Mosilaire picked up a long stick and struggled to pull the fallen duck to the shore. Since Winnie said that the smell of blood would attract zombies, Mosilaire clumsily disposed of the duck by the pool, draining its blood as much as possible, and throwing all the blood-smelling entrails into the pool to feed the fish.

Mosilaire squeezed the three or four pounds of fat ducks into the small cart, and the two of them rode the zombies around the base before they could react, and returned to the safety of the base like a wind.

- Then close the heavy iron door again, close the newly installed and secure locks, and now they are completely safe.

Mosilaire and Winnie, who were panting against the iron door, looked at each other and smiled, and they both saw indescribable joy and hope in each other's eyes. They knew that the supplies they had received this time were beyond their imagination and would greatly alleviate the situation that they were already in a difficult situation.

Mosilaire and Winnie only had time to take a quick sip of water before they eagerly looked at the harvest. By the time they finished sorting out and counting the supplies, it was already two o'clock in the afternoon.

The food consisted of 23 canned foods, 141 servings of survival food in standard packaging, a snack and a bag of flour soaked in snow and some mildew, as well as spices and condiments that could be used to cook a large meal.

Other items included a large mass of hyperfabric used to sew clothing, several books and magazines to talk about, some parts and chips, and a storage jar containing seeds.

The label on the canister had been blistered, and she didn't know what seeds were in it - don't expect her electronic eyes to see through the aluminum of the canister to see what's behind it, as that would be unfair to anyone walking down the street without shielding armor.

And as soon as they were a little free, a pound of hunger began to afflict Mosilaire and Winnie's stomachs, both of whom had not yet eaten lunch!

Because the adventure went more smoothly than Mosiliel had imagined, she didn't want to eat any of the energy bars in her pocket - Winnie didn't eat the energy bars that Mosilaire had given her, but Mosilaire was afraid that she would starve from her young age, so she asked her to eat the previous energy bar, and then took a bar out of her pocket as a reward for finding the mallard.

Winnie had probably never eaten anything that made her fat, as was evident from the richness of her expression.

She eats slowly and carefully, chewing every bite to savor the sweet syrup-encased chocolate, crushed peanuts and their unique blend of flavors — Mosilaire loved to eat energy bars of all flavors as a child, but she didn't like them much when she grew up — as most women do.