"Hey, Bender, have a cup of hot water!"

"Okay, Miss Mosilaire, can you wait a minute?" Bender hammered the nail firmly into the plank before creaking down the ladder.

"Oh, I really can't put into words how grateful I am, may the ancient percussion beast bless you, young lady." Bender stomped on the snow-covered ground, took the hot water that Mosilaire had brought him, and swallowed them all in a few sips—what a pleasure to drink on a cold day!

"Mr. Bender, please keep warm and rest, we don't want to see you sick." Mosilaire looked up at the small wooden platforms that had been repaired and surrounded the wall, "You don't need to be in such a hurry, you know. ”

"Haha." Bender laughed twice, reached out and patted the snowdrift on his winter hat, and shook himself again, causing the clouds of snowflakes to rain down - now he no longer looked at it as a dwarf pine tree completely buried by the snow.

"The hat you made for me is very comfortable, Miss Mosilaire, and it seems that your craft has improved considerably." Bender stretched in the snow, "I want to finish the platform and thistle terrestris earlier, so that I can sleep more peacefully." ”

"Poof!" He spat out a few more snowflakes from his mouth, pressed his hand against the heavy stone wall, and smiled a little shyly, "If only you could bleed less next time." ”

"You ...... fellow," Mosilaire took the empty cup and smiled at him with a smile far brighter than the winter sun, "but you still have to take care of your rest!" ”

"Okay—okay, I promise you." Bender rubbed his red face and smiled, "You go back first, you don't have much clothing, don't let this hell weather freeze." ”

"Well, if you can't stand it, come back and blow the warm air, I'll go back first." Mosilaire yawned, said hello, and turned back.

"Ouch, it's cold!" Closing the gate of the base, she couldn't help but sigh with a sigh of cold before winter.

Before the blizzard completely envelops the place, they'll have to buy some more treasures from their neighbors at Gathering Three.

Mosilaire returned to the base's communications room and retrieved a folded sheet of white paper from his jacket pocket.

Something was written neatly in black on the white paper, and it looked like a short purchase list—it was indeed a purchase order, something she and her companions had just discussed the previous night.

There is a heater in the communication room, which is placed next to the communication station. The warm hot wind blew comfortably on her face, and at once it took away the cold air that was attached to her—but it also made her a little sleepy—and she yawned a few times!

"Steel, high-grade parts, and fiberglass...... Hmmm......"

"Huh—" Mosilelle, who had warmed up, couldn't help but yawn again, so she could only pinch her face to cheer herself up—not to mention, her round face was soft to grasp, but it looked like a glutinous rice dumpling that was still warm.

"I don't know if they have fiberglass there...... The materials that were removed from the mechanical body last time were all used up, and it will be discovered sooner or later if you take them from the mechanical platform...... But the mechanical platform is still somewhat useful...... Hmmm......"

Mosilaire went through the purchase order again before sending a message on the communication desk, making sure that there were no minor mistakes that should not have been made when discussing with Gathering Point Three.

"Huh...... Click......"

"Huh?"

A noise from the communication station caught Mosilare's attention, causing her eyes to open unconsciously—she almost fell asleep at the communication station again!

"Huh...... Hiss...... People ......"

It didn't seem like an ordinary noise—so Mosilaire immediately leaned down in front of the comms station to debug.

"......"

"Huh...... Yes...... ......"

"Yes...... ...... Whew"

"Someone...... Hear...... Is it? Please help...... I...... Please......"

The voice that came from the communication station was mixed with the furious cries of the wind—her cries for help sounded faintly like a dying candle, and if Mosilele didn't want the girl to freeze to death in the snow, then she should hurry.

Mosilaire frowned and put on the headset of the communication station: "Hello, can you hear me?" ”

"Whew...... Hiss ......"

"......"

"Whew-huw-"

But no one answered her.

"Huh...... Whew—"

"Hello, can you hear me?"

"Whew-whew-"

Mosilaire's brow furrowed deeper and deeper, and all the sound coming from the headphones was the sound of the wind, long, long, and hollow.

"Hello—"

"Huh...... I...... Hello...... Please...... Save me...... Seeking ......"

“…… Please......"

“…… Hello, can you tell us where you are? ”

"I don't know...... I don't know ......."

The sound on the other end of the headset had become fainter and weaker, and Mosilaire was really worried that she would completely faint from the low temperature in the next second, and remain in the cold snow forever.

"Stay calm, miss, describe the terrain around you or try to find any iconic objects or buildings." Mosilaire calmed her restless, fearful heart with gentle, logical words, so that she finally spoke a meaningful clue in a state of confusion.

"Steel, wreckage...... Near here...... There are large pieces of wreckage. ”

"Wreckage?" Mosilaire rubbed his face, as if remembering something: "Does the distribution of the wreckage look like it was caused by a violent impact?" ”

"Uh-huh............"

"Can you see any ship-related or similar parts from the wreckage nearby?"

"Hmm...... Well...... Whew"

Mosilaire in front of the communication station was afraid that her weak voice would suddenly cut off and never sound again.

"Okay, I see, please stay calm and try to stay where you are, maintain communication, and if you can, please provide us with accurate directions by lighting fires, firing flares, firing guns, and other effective means to ensure your own safety, and we will be there soon to your location." Mosilaire is doing everything he can to help this lonely soul who is about to pass away.

"Whew-whew"

“…… Hmmm......"

Her voice was mixed with the growing storm, and she seemed so helpless and so pitiful

"So you've really decided?" The old knife handed the iron kettle filled with hot water to Mosilel, and the messy exploding head looked a little funny in the dining room light: "Maybe you should really think about it." ”

Mosilaire bowed his head and took the kettle, and tied it carefully to his belt with a rope, but did not reply.

"Yes, Miss Mosilaire, what if this is just a trap set by the wicked? Or is it a trick that only the despicable pirates can come up with? Little Red Riding Hood sat on the dining chair with her sister Anya in her arms, and the two girls looked a little worried.

"Phew-" Mosilaire put on an improvised steel helmet for himself and sighed softly, "I understand, so you just need to stay here to pick me up and prepare for a premeditated invasion that may occur." ”

She paused, but there was obvious sadness in her beautiful eyes: "It's good for me to go alone, don't worry." ”

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Bender, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke, staring at his companion with burning eyes.

"Well......" Mosilaire, who is good at words, had many reasons to explain her motives or convince her friends, but in the end she only answered in a sullen voice, looking so weak in the quiet of the dining room.

Because from a rational point of view, she should never have made such a reckless decision in any case—she would probably put her companions, the fringe colonies, and everything she cherished in extreme danger by such a foolish act.

But she really couldn't just ignore the faint cry for help from a soul who had regained hope—in this crazy, twisted world—in this familiar, snowy winter.

Mosilaire knew how desperate it was to feel the heat and life unstoppably and slowly leaving the body in the icy air that enveloped the body—but the will to survive and the stubborn soul that began to be dulled by the low temperature could prolong the process, "dramatically".

But you will still freeze to death in the end—growing in despair in your infinite attachment to existence, and clearly realize how the cold wind and snow can take your life in the slightest, every slightest, freezing the most precious thoughts and wisdom of the natural world.

Mosilaire didn't want to taste this terrible taste again, and she didn't want others to suffer such suffering and torture for no reason—she was capable of saving others, and she was willing to take controllable dangers for it.

If such an incapacitated refugee who called for help to her was buried forever under the blizzard, she thought she would really blame herself for her cruelty.

Mosilaire dressed herself with a charged rifle and petted the little peanut lying beside her—she was ready to go.

"Sister......" Winnie stood beside Moschelaire at some point, looking at her with her head raised and pleading—she was reluctant for Mosilaire to take such a risk for a stranger she didn't know—but she had always believed in Mosilaire and respected Mosilare's choice.

It was as if Mosilele believed in her and respected her just as much - but she had to try.

In the past, Miss Winnie's occasional coquettishness and pleading always touched the well-meaning Moschelaire—but this time Mosillaire only touched her head gently, but her determined eyes did not waver in the slightest.

"Sister, I'll go with you too!" Anya jumped out of Little Red Riding Hood's arms, crying and holding Mosilaire's waist unwilling to let go—it seems that this delicate little girl had already guessed from the clues why the adults were so sad.

Little Red Riding Hood, who sat in the dining chair, pursed her lips helplessly, and her brow, which had always been carefree, was now only a dull sorrow and entanglement—she had something to say—but for the sake of her sister, she could not let herself venture at will.

So she finally opened her mouth, and finally had to swallow it in pain.

"I'll go with you!" Bender stood up and grabbed the chain-link shotgun on the table.

"I'...... too," the old knife in the corner yelled to his feet—but he forgot that it was hard for an old man like him to walk through the snow without exercise.

So Mosilaire just waved his hand, interrupting Mr. Knife's volunteer, and then kissed Anya lightly on the head, so that the sensible child finally took the initiative to let go of his hand.

There were already some tears on Anya's face, so Mosilaire had to turn her head away, for fear that she would be soft-hearted and stay.

Carrying warm clothes and emergency food, Mosilaire finally bent down with great difficulty and bowed to these lovely companions, and his upright facial features showed a reassuring smile in the orange light: "I have a smaller goal, and it is easier to get out, please believe me!" ”

She didn't want her companions to be implicated in her own selfish actions—she didn't want to see them involved in unnecessary risk—especially when it was likely to be a crude trap.

In a way, Mosilaire's words actually make a lot of sense - with Mosilare's current advanced equipment and rich reconnaissance sense, it should be very easy to get out of the ambush set up near the crash site of the ship - so if she insists on helping others, it is better and more appropriate for her to go alone.

But man is not a rational person - unless he is willing to implant an expensive and unstable AI core - oh, this kind of law-breaking creature has never been discussed in this book.

So Bender just held his chain shotgun and stood steadily in front of Miss Mosilaire.

He didn't speak, and neither did she.

At last Mosilaire reluctantly punched him in the chest, and it was a compromise—but soon, a smile came out of the corner of her mouth—so sweet and so happy to look at in the warm light.