The leaders of the gathering place on the other side of the communication station seemed to be very moved, and after several negotiations with Mosilaire, they finally agreed to exchange a ton of high-quality steel, some crop seeds, about 200 kilograms of various grains, plus dozens of special parts with a total value of 1,000 silver to be built by Mosilaire in exchange for the manufacturing and principle blueprints of the advanced hydroponic tank, and hoped that the fringe colonies could extend the free provision period of hydroponic liquid to four months—Mosilaire of course readily agreed.

The hydroponic fluid was not valuable, and during the negotiation she limited the value of "free supply" to a range where all the interpretation rights belonged to her.

Once the four-month free period has passed, the Gathering will have to buy hydroponic fluids from the Marginal Colonies - or exchange them for something, which is the same for the current Marginal Colonies anyway, because they lack everything.

In the end, the Gathering said that it would send a convoy to trade as soon as possible, but in order to prevent accidents, the Gathering did not say a specific time, but reminded the Mosilaire team to use the on-board radio to send a trading signal when approaching the Fringe Colony, hoping that Mosileel and the Fringe Colony would maintain smooth communication during this period.

Mosilare, on the other hand, took the matter very seriously and wished the two parties a happy deal.

When the communication station was turned off, Moschelaire, who had been nervous for a long time, realized that she had broken out in a cold sweat, and when she looked at the time on the bracelet, she got up and stretched out a big stretch when she knew that it was time to make dinner—if you could see the big smile on her face, you would be able to see that Mosilele was very happy and very happy now.

She kept the old knife's sterile bricks in the laboratory, and exchanged a single technology blueprint for many resources that were crucial to the development of the current colony, and if nothing else, she would be able to pay the gathering place in four months. Provide hydroponic liquid in exchange for all kinds of materials and supplies you need.

Through her linguistic skills and business acumen, Moschelaire's first independent deal was a success—she was so glad she hadn't slept in the etiquette diplomacy class—or rather, the snooze-like Miss Mosilaire had fallen asleep a few times in the class that had aroused her interest a little.

Although the other party stated that most of the supplies would be delivered to the fringe colonies in two months as a second shipment to verify the true performance of the hydroponic tanks, the seeds of various crops, which are the most important for the current base, will be transported in the first delivery - this is a useful place for the dozen or so repaired advanced hydroponic boxes in the base.

Because Mosilaire was in a particularly good mood today, she made five sweet and light cabbage buns with a little flour left over from last time and vegetables stored in the cold storage for dinner.

Frankly, these buns were a lot smaller than usual, but they tasted good, and Mosilaire ate only one himself, leaving the remaining four for Winnie and Old Knife. Lao Dao and Winnie, who divided the four cabbage buns equally, were both very happy and happy.

At the dinner table, Mosilaire could not contain the joy in his heart, and informed the two colonists that the deal had been successfully concluded in the afternoon.

Knife and Winnie praised Mosilaire's wit and social skills, and the unkempt hair of Knife was especially happy - even if he wasn't opposed to dismantling some of the lab's silver bricks in exchange for more useful supplies for the base at this stage, it would be good to keep them.

He couldn't bear to put those precious instruments on the dirty, slimy mud - to do so would be to tarnish the sacred science.

With these supplies in hand, the military fortress – or rather the fringe colony – could predictably see a leap forward.

This kind of hope is often more motivating than material.

And on this day to remember and celebrate, the three trainee colonists of the Fringe Colony – oh, and of course our adorable kitten, Peanut, will have their first official attack.

At half past two in the morning, or maybe three o'clock in the evening—Mosilaire couldn't remember exactly, but the old knife on night duty knocked softly on the door of the barn, waking Mosilaire from his slumber.

He gestured in the blurred bulletproof glass-rendered moonlight to tell her that the base had some uninvited guests, and that they were trying to pry open the main door to the base.

The night shift has been done by Mosilele since the snowstorm stopped, and after the old knife came, this work has naturally become a task they share - but because the wall defense of the main body of the base is very well designed, all the entrances and exits are just an electric chute iron door made by Mosilele and a closed skylight made of reinforced steel that is usually locked from the inside, so usually Mosilele and Old Knife will only be on duty for three hours each from twelve o'clock in the evening to six o'clock in the morning - sometimes Mosilele is on duty in the first half of the night, sometimes it is the old knife in the middle of the night.

But once all the parts Mosilaire had ordered from Gathering Ground Three arrived, she would be able to completely fix the base's low-power radar and the infrared probes and alarm systems that dotted the outer and inner passages of the main body, and they might be able to sleep peacefully at night with the smell of insects and vanilla.

But the dozen or so greedy, bloody, and cruel foolish cannibals who gathered around the gates of the base would not have had the patience to wait until then—because these dirty, uncivilized fools were not good at waiting.

They are accustomed to swarming their prey when they find it, devouring the flesh that is in a near-death state but not completely dead, and swallowing the sweet flesh into their stomachs amid the desperate cries of the other party.

Mosilaire didn't wake up Winnie, who was still asleep, but went to the security room with the old knife to observe with the probe at the door.

It was confirmed that the raid on the base was a total of thirteen nasty, uninvited guys, and Mosilaire left the old knife in the security room to use the machine gun turret at the door as appropriate - there were not many bullets in the turret, so it would be best to save some.

Life has to be carefully calculated, not to mention that they can't match the word "rich" at all.

Extremely calm, Mosilaire once again took the charged rifle and quietly climbed onto the roof through the skylight in the base.

Crawling to the entrance, Mosilaire scrutinized the frenzied-looking creatures covered in evil, weird symbols and totems through her bionic eyes. - She recognized the twisted symbols, as they were one of the totems of several cannibal tribes that Winnie drew on the ground with charcoal to remind her of her particular attention.

Two of these impudent bastards were intently prieing at the door, while the rest were dancing around their companions wielding their primitive weapons such as spears, bows and arrows.

Although they had to temporarily suppress their restless hearts and roaring desires in order to keep quiet, they still stubbornly wanted to express their bloody desires in this way - if Mosilaire was not mistaken, these cannibals should have not tasted human flesh in a long time in this zombie-infested, sparsely populated barren plain. They should be starving, right?

And Mosilelle, the benevolent, friendly young lady certainly wouldn't let these cannibals with necklaces made of various human bone fragments go home empty-handed, and she had always been willing to give to others - only this time, she was sending some hot, hot bullets.

Determined, Mosilaire returned to the security room and reminded the old knife to manipulate the improvised machine gun turret and fire at the right time, and to be sure to destroy everything that moved in the doorway - she didn't plan to leave it alive.

The old knife had never operated a machine gun turret himself, so he looked a little nervous and excited, but more of a kind of eagerness to show off his skills - Mosilaire kindly reminded the old knife that if he didn't feel good at shooting, he could choose to switch to the AI control on the side - but the old knife patted his chest and said that he didn't need such an unreliable thing.

When she returned to the roof, the barbarians in front of the gate were still trying to pry open the sturdy electric iron door with a few sticks, but their movements became more and more rude because of the long work without progress.

Mosilaire, who had hidden her breath, lay on the roof, and through the low-powered lens of the charged rifle, she aimed her crosshair at the heads of the nearest cannibals.

Among these creatures were young and vigorous young men, old men who were dying of old age, and even a scrawny woman—except that their paint-painted faces all revealed bloodlust and some kind of unspeakable horror.

She steadied her trembling arm and swallowed the cold, moist air of the night into her lungs.

Mosilaire slowed his heartbeat and stared intently at the young, energetic bodies in the scope like never before.

Calm your breath – one hit hits.

More than a dozen death-signaling bullets pierced the cold starry sky and pierced all obstacles in their path—the flesh and bones that burst into several balls were a direct manifestation of its energy—what a great and intoxicating power!

The cold mist of grass and trees nearby was mixed with a disgusting scorching smell - the peculiar smell of the protein-rich fatty tissue of the victim's corpse when it was ignited by the heat of the charged bomb.

Mosilaire didn't like the smell because it wasn't just pungent and dizzying, it sometimes reminded her of a terrible time in her past.

But it's even more unimaginable, the scorching smell of corpses that permeates the entire vast atmosphere—they are pervasive, stubbornly clinging to your clothes and hair.

Even when you're tired and asleep with a charged rifle in your arms, the haunting smell creeps into the darkest of corners, turning your rare dreams into a nightmare of corpses and blood.

But Mosilaire had no choice, and neither did the foolish cannibals under the roof who were in a state of panic.

They didn't think there was anything wrong with cannibalism, so when they discovered the colony and stepped within the first layer of the protective walls in an attempt to attack the base, the only bounty they could get was death - as mentioned earlier, Mosilaire was a very generous lady - both to friends and foes.