Sir! Don't close the net!

Li Yili thought of the religion of steam and steel.

Although there is no evidence to prove that the Cult of Steam and Steel has cooperated with the Old Ones, there are enough reasons.

Moreover, the Cult of Steam and Steel has been conducting various experiments to induce mutations in lifestyle habits. This war looks like the closing stage of these experiments. What the Cult of Steam and Steel wants is not annihilation, but continuation, to find a way to survive 2012.

He just couldn't understand how this continuation actually worked, or why the Church of Steam and Steel was so certain it was the right method. Did the actions of the past also confirm that this continuation was the correct method?

Chapter 118 You Don't Belong to Our Ecosystem

After wandering around for most of the night until dawn, Li Yili still hadn't found any suspected old strongholds in the Cretaceous Circle. She had no choice but to drag Rebecca, who was so sleepy she was starting to roll her eyes, back to Tipor's place. Li Yili kicked Rebecca onto the bed and left the room. She found a balcony and looked at the city wall that blocked the Jurassic Circle in the distance, her brows furrowing slightly.

Is this something that's hard to accept?

Amid the morning mist, Abel appeared behind Li Yili, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"There has never been peaceful change in this world. Sacrifice is inevitable. Moreover, this is a world built on sacrifice."

Li Yili stared calmly into the distance as if she hadn't heard anything, while Abel leaned against the balcony railing, exhaling steam.

"Haven't you already seen for yourself just how sick this place is? Apart from a very few people who live off this sick land, everyone is looking forward to change."

"Human society is chaotic. Humans have recorded the methods for achieving peace and the mistakes they have made in countless ways, but later generations always find all sorts of excuses to distort the simple concept of peace and use all sorts of high-sounding reasons to cover up the same mistakes they made after their own dictatorship failed."

Abel paused for a moment, then smiled helplessly.

"They will never regret the consequences they have caused. They will only regret that they have failed. And those who come after them will only think that the failure of those who came before was because those who came before were not smart enough, not because what they coveted was wrong in the first place."

"When an individual's problem causes the entire society to violate the correct laws, it will naturally cause rejection from society and the group, just like the human immune system."

"The wasteland's royal family has given the wasteland a very serious disease. If the wasteland wants to survive, it can only carry out the antivirus with the mindset of mutual destruction."

"So, do you understand? This is an inevitable law."

Abel flicked his finger, and the cigarette butt he tossed away slowly dissipated into the thick fog.

Would you feel any better if I said that?

Li Yili put her hands on her hips, her shoulders slightly slumped, and said, "Do you think I would sympathize with the lab mice? Or with the ants in the ecosphere?"

"It doesn't really matter how this happens, the important thing is whether you plan to disrupt their ecosystem, after all..."

A little more sunlight appeared amidst the starlight, and the thin mist gradually dissipated, along with Abel's body.

“You are not part of our ecosystem.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Early in the morning, Puss, along with his fellow students, went door-to-door with a stack of blank lists, explaining their plan to form a self-defense force. Thanks to William's help, most residents, while not inviting Puss and his group inside, didn't impatiently chase them away either. Hearing that Puss might not need any real help and could sign first and observe before deciding whether to proceed, most readily signed their names. A small minority, however, displayed the complete opposite attitude...

He then launched into a tirade, accusing Puss and his group of undermining the friendship within the Triassic circle.

Because William had warned some people that they would actively pledge their loyalty to Earl Wilson in order to seize the Triple Circle's inheritance, Poste deliberately placed the gun in a conspicuous position. As a result, some people who wanted to make a move hesitated for a while and then instead smashed the empty ground.

“Three hundred and twenty-seven new members! Wow, such amazing results in just one hour! There’s definitely strength in numbers,” Puss said, shaking the list in his hand.

“But only two people have clearly stated that they will provide us with substantial help,” the woman following behind Puss, who was covering her missing ear with her hair, couldn’t help but complain.

“Ahem—that’s not the point,” Puss coughed with a sigh, raising a finger. “The important thing is that our team is getting stronger and stronger.”

Pus paused, looked around, leaned forward, and lowered his voice.

"Even if most people won't help, with so many signatures here, the next person might not know whether the people on the list are just there for show or if they're really going to help. Maybe some people will decide to lend a hand just because they see so many signatures?"

"Eh……"

“All of this is for Miss Anne!” Puss said, hands on his hips and head held high. “Miss Anne is now working hard in her own way to make this place better, how can we fall behind?”

“But Miss Anne really will like us… to fool the residents of the Triassic Circle like this?” a middle-aged man said with some concern.

“Uncle…think about it carefully, is it wrong for everyone in the Triassic Circle to be united?” Puss leaned closer to the middle-aged man and waved his index finger. “Isn’t it precisely because everyone in the Triassic Circle isn’t united and friendly that the situation is so bad now?”

The middle-aged man hesitated for a moment before nodding.

I always felt that a simple phrase like "let's all be united and friendly" could resolve all the conflicts he knew that arose from people. However, this unity and friendliness was just too difficult to achieve. Puss's approach was the simplest and wouldn't hurt anyone.

Moreover, everyone knows that there is a faster way to grow their self-defense forces.

That is to deepen the residents' resistance and hatred towards homeless people in San Die Quan, pretend to be homeless people and attack the residents of San Die Quan, spread various rumors about homeless people among the residents of San Die Quan, and exaggerate the threat that homeless people will pose. At that time, they only need to make a slight gesture, and the vast majority of the residents of San Die Quan will be willing to join their self-defense force, and not just join in name only, but join with actual actions.

But Puss didn't adopt it, or even mention this "good method" that everyone knew was right.

"If you understand, everyone, hurry up and perk up!" Puss waved the list in his hand vigorously. "Let's set a small goal first: get the signatures of more than half of the residents of the Triassic Circle!"

“Um… Mr. Puss, I think we need to re-examine just how small the so-called small goal really is.”

"Seriously, can't everyone be a little more imaginative? Fine, as the acting sheriff leading you all in place of Miss Anne, I'll tell you some good news," Puss said, raising his hand to adjust his newly bought cowboy hat with a touch of swagger.

"Actually, little Miss Anne has already reached the Cretaceous Circle! Oh my—don't be so surprised and excited, what's even more amazing is that little Miss Anne not only reached the Cretaceous Circle in such a short time, but also made many friends in the Jurassic Circle who are willing to help us!"

Chapter 119 Mr. Dante, Nightmares Are Hard to Find During the Day

Because he felt that the priest's last words, "May you have a sweet dream tonight," were a veiled insult, Dante didn't sleep a wink all night. He even went so far as to sneak into the only library in the Jurassic Circle and find all the books about the establishment of the Jurassic Circle's original self-defense force, the Mafia. He spent the whole night studying the history of the Jurassic Circle's resistance, extracting the essence and summarizing the dross, and compiling it into a dense three-page reading report.

Of course, Dante also knew that for the Triassic Self-Defense Force, which was still in its infancy, the most important thing right now was not the experience of building and operating the Self-Defense Force. The residents of the Triassic were facing an unprecedented crisis, and this crisis would cause the members of the nascent Self-Defense Force to spontaneously take shape in the right direction.

For the Self-Defense Forces of the Tri-Tank Territory, the most important thing now is to have pillars and strength that prevent the entire Self-Defense Forces from being destroyed in an instant.

The Mafia didn't immediately rebel; instead, they endured for a long time until they mastered the technology to produce weapons and manufactured enough weapons before revealing their fangs to the wasteland royal family.

Of course, given the current pace, the Triassic self-defense forces have no chance to endure for that long. But fortunately, the Jurassic gangs have pulled out most of their fangs and smuggled them into the Triassic for their own war.

What the self-defense forces of the Three-Tiered Circle need to do is seize these fangs and put them on their own. Those weapons are enough for the self-defense forces of the Three-Tiered Circle to use for a long time. Moreover, as the saying goes, the deterrent power of a gun with the trigger off is much greater than that of a gun with the trigger pulled.

The only difficulty, however, is that all the gang's weapons are now in the hands of Earl Wilson. It's not a question of whether the Triple Circle dares to do it, but rather that even Dante himself wouldn't dare to do it.

It was precisely because of this difficulty that Dante spent an entire night agonizing over it, and in the end... it still wasn't enough.

If you finish writing your reading report and then go straight to sleep, your mind will be completely blank anyway.

"Ugh, this is so troublesome..."

Dante forcefully threw the scrap of paper upwards, then lay on the ground with his arms outstretched, staring blankly at the falling white paper.

He couldn't bring himself to trick the Triassic into delivering it. In his eyes, the Triassic, led by the righteous Sheriff Puss, were rare people in the wasteland who were both righteous and willing to take action. If he could, he really wanted to risk his life for Puss and the others, but the wall blocked everything.

Dante had considered secretly acquiring a batch of weapons and gradually slipping them to Puth through packages, but doing so would be too insulting to the intelligence of the Cult of Steam and Steel. Furthermore, too many weapons had already been smuggled out of the Jurassic Circle, and most of the remaining weapons were in the hands of the officers. Even if he managed to get his hands on some, he would be under surveillance and wouldn't have the opportunity to send them into the Triassic Circle.

A piece of paper slowly floated down onto Dante's face, blocking his view and interrupting his thoughts. As if to vent his anger, Dante suddenly stood up, ripped off the piece of paper from his face, and intended to tear it to shreds and throw it away. But after seeing what was written on the paper, Dante froze.

This was a draft he had left over from copying the story Anne had written after listening to Li Yili's dictation; it just so happened to be the Merchant of Venice that had just been sent out.

Dante felt a throbbing sensation in his head. Staring at the scrapped manuscript in his hand, he subconsciously reached out and grabbed it. He suddenly had an indescribable feeling; he seemed to have found a direction to solve the problem. But it was just a feeling that made Dante unsure whether he truly had a direction or was simply hallucinating from exhaustion.

“Ah~ I’m not good at thinking about these things,” Dante pinched the bridge of his nose, got up and sat on the counter, putting the draft aside.

You can't rely solely on feelings when doing things, especially in a critical period like this where life and death are at stake.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of any way to get Earl Wilson to hand over the weapons to the Self-Defense Forces. Moreover, once he started to deny this feeling, his thinking became increasingly negative, and he even felt that this feeling was probably reminding him to ask Li Yili for help.

The idea of ​​asking for help took root in Dante's mind as soon as it appeared. All his subsequent thoughts became nourishment for this idea. As a result, after struggling with this idea for half an hour, Dante gave up and put his reading report into an envelope. Then he put the letter that Puss had sent him into another envelope and wrote a letter that didn't look so shameful into it.

Dante sneered, stacked the two letters together, kicked aside the discarded manuscript on the ground, walked to the inn door, and bumped into a man's arms.

Dante covered his forehead and took a few steps back. When he looked up, his angry expression instantly turned into speechlessness and disgust.

The smiling figure standing at the entrance is the church priest whose church is situated between the Triassic Circle and the Jura Circle.

"Hmm? Mr. Dante? You don't seem to have slept very well last night."

The priest put his hands behind his back, shook his head, and turned his head to look at the discarded manuscripts scattered on the ground.

Noticing the priest's gaze, Dante's expression changed, and he straightened his back and strode out of the inn, bumping into the priest and sending him stumbling back several steps before pulling the inn door shut.

"By your blessing, I had a terrible nightmare and couldn't sleep all night," Dante decided to preemptively strike, not wanting to arouse the priest's curiosity about the discarded manuscript on the ground.

“Eh… that’s a real shame. It must have been more terrifying and… real than anyone could have imagined. Mr. Dante, your eyes are bloodshot,” the priest shook his head. Although he seemed to be apologizing, Dante didn’t hear a trace of apology in the priest’s tone.

“You really are not a qualified clergyman,” Dante slapped his forehead. “So why are you blocking my door so early in the morning, you incompetent priest? I don’t remember inviting you.”

"Hmm? Is Mr. Dante experiencing memory problems due to staying up too late?" The priest shook his head, took out a steamed bun from behind his back, and took a bite under Dante's subtle gaze.

"But doesn't Mr. Dante have a letter from Mr. Yellow Raincoat that he's sending to the Triassic Circle?"

"Yesterday was truly beyond my control, so I came to pick up the mail first thing this morning. I even bought my breakfast on the way here."

Dante's lips twitched violently as he pulled out the letter he was going to send to Puss from his pocket.

“It seems Mr. Dante has remembered. Mr. Yellow Raincoat’s letter cannot be delayed. Mr. Dante, you don’t need to worry. I’ll send the letter to the Triple Circle right away. You can go back and catch up on your sleep. You won’t have nightmares during the day.” The priest smiled slightly and reached out to take the letter, but Puss nimbly dodged it.

"No rush—"

Dante waved the letter in his hand.

"Thanks to that nightmare, I'm still fully conscious."

"Mr. Dante, what do you mean?" The priest simply withdrew his hand and took another bite of the steamed bun.

“I can wait for a reply in the church,” Dante said with a smile, patting the priest on the shoulder. “Aren’t you very efficient? I bet you’ll get a reply in half an hour at most. I don’t mind, but Mr. Yellow Raincoat must be very curious about the situation.”

The priest narrowed his eyes for a moment before breaking into a bright smile.

Chapter 120 You are truly more blind and foolish than imagined.

The priest led the way, with Dante following behind. They walked along the streets of the Jurassic Circle like strangers to acquaintances, strolling leisurely toward the church.

"Speaking of which, Mr. Dante, there's something I've always been curious about: why yellow..."

"The raincoat man trusts you so much."

“Father, before I answer this question, would you mind answering one of mine first?” Dante walked ahead cautiously, exposing his back to the priest. “Why do you… no, the Church of Steam and Steel, respect Mr. Yellow Raincoat so much?”

"Hmm? Ha... Mr. Dante, you don't even know this, yet you're willing to work for Mr. Yellow Coat?" The priest chuckled, waving his hand. "You're truly beyond imagination. Is this the reason you've gained Mr. Yellow Coat's favor?"

"Huh? Don't jump to conclusions that give people a headache," Dante said, somewhat annoyed.

Although the term "blind fool" is not commonly used, it is clearly not a word used to praise someone.

“No, no, no, I really envy you. Not everyone has the opportunity to work for Mr. Yellow Coat and them, to be chosen and watched by them. It’s the luckiest thing in the world,” the priest smiled.

"Huh? Is he that amazing? I don't see it at all." Dante clicked his tongue in annoyance, his hands behind his head. "Besides! It wasn't him who chose me, it was me who chose him, you know!"

The priest paused, turning his head slowly toward Dante. His unusually deep gaze sent a chill down Dante's spine, and Dante instinctively reached behind his waist with his left hand to grip the shotgun.

Just when Dante thought the priest was about to erupt, the priest suddenly smiled brightly, turned around, grabbed Dante's right hand, and shook it vigorously up and down.

"Wow—I always thought you, Mr. Dante, were just an enviable lucky person who didn't understand what true luck was, but I never expected you to be such an enlightened person! Then we can be considered like-minded believers!"

"Huh?" Dante raised an eyebrow, not understanding why the priest suddenly said that.