Terra Tinkers Construct is fine.

"The young craftsman doesn't seem to be offering after-sales service; instead, he's worried that we old folks won't be able to learn it, so he's even taking notes."

Is something wrong?

—What else could happen?

—They have different ideas from us, so what could be the situation if they give us some benefits before they leave?

Patriot didn't speak; he just looked at his old friend with his red eyes, and the old friend immediately understood—and so, in the short time that followed, the atmosphere in the camp subtly became more delicate.

The young Yetis were still enjoying their brief rest, while the veterans had mixed feelings during Milan's open class. Patriot and Frostnova also had mixed feelings; they had both seen what Milan was doing, and he was genuinely preparing for the camp, both in terms of knowledge and supplies.

"I am not stingy in providing support to Yetis and guerrillas."

He wasn't lying; that's the weight of his words.

Finally, on the morning of the third day, a familiar, dusty jeep rolled across the frozen ground and slowly drove into the camp gate.

"Oh, it's really cold today."

The familiar comical metal bucket head, the familiar damp leather coat—unsurprisingly, it was that shrewd businessman, Cannot, who had arrived. He jumped out of the car, breathing out non-existent heat, greeting the sentries who completely ignored him, while habitually scanning the camp.

However, his gaze soon found something unusual.

A group of veterans, all of whom looked to be quite old, were gathered around a copyright table. In the center of the circle was a large shield that was suspended in mid-air, part of which had been disassembled into pieces... Milan was standing next to the workbench, giving the veterans some instructions.

Kannot: "..."

Did I lose a lot of money last time?

Chapter 32 - Until We Meet Again (5/5)

In Ursus, especially outside the city-states of Ursus, knowledge is precious, engineering knowledge is even more precious, and knowledge that can be applied at the right time is naturally especially valuable.

And precious is the same as expensive.

Seeing the veterans' focused and thoughtful expressions, Kannot's first thought was: "These guys I randomly picked up from the Cataclysm last time seem to have something wrong with their heads. They were just thrown to the Yeti as a bargaining chip..."

This guy who claims to be a craftsman, and who's so young he doesn't look like one at all... turns out he's this valuable?

—This is a huge loss!

"Mr. Cannot!"

Just as he was still struggling with the tentacles about to entangle, the Yeti member in charge of logistics recognized him and quickly came up to him: "You've finally arrived. Big Daddy was in a hurry when he mentioned it, and we had to work overtime for quite a while."

"Ah, ah, after all, the guerrillas have captured a mine, so I still take this kind of news very seriously."

Coming to his senses, Kannot Void tipped his hat and said, "We meet again, my friend. What have you prepared this time?"

The transaction was completed quickly.

What can the infected on the march produce? Naturally, for Kannot, the main purpose of the trade is the guerrillas' spoils, namely the Originium ore transported from the mines—these three days are said to be for rest and recuperation, but in reality, a large part of the reason is to wait for this wave of spoils to arrive.

What he delivered were medicines, consumables produced in civilized society, and essential, durable grains. The transaction was completed, and Kannot skillfully signed his name in the ledger. Just as he was about to call for loading, a deep voice sounded behind him.

"Businessman." (A phrase from a website called Yiqi Shisi Jiuba)

Kannot immediately turned around, his deep, business-like voice beneath his helmet even more shrewd: "Ah, Captain Patriot, and Miss Frostnova. What should I say at this point? Oh right, good day, the transaction went very smoothly, thank you for your trust."

Behind him stood the towering figure of Patriot, while Froststar stood quietly to the side, her white hair swaying in the breeze.

"Let's talk in private."

The patriot's voice was short and abrupt.

"Oh! Oh, of course, Captain, please."

Having completed the transaction, the Yeti wisely took his leave. The group went into the tent and lowered the curtain. The torches' illumination remained as steady as ever, as if working for several days and nights had left no trace of wear and tear. Kannot's attention was immediately drawn to this rare, smokeless and heatless contraption, but Patriot's voice pulled him back to reality.

"Milan, I'll go with you."

Without any pleasantries or preamble, he stated his purpose directly.

"……what?"

The shrewdness in Cannot's voice finally subsided a bit; he was genuinely a little surprised, not even realizing the pain he had felt from the previous perceived loss.

"Come with me? Captain, are you serious? I've only known him for a few days, and he seems to be getting along quite well with you guys."

Frostnova's eyes held a complex emotion that was difficult to detect, but she did not speak; Patriot did not respond, he simply looked at Kannot in silence, as if that was enough to express his attitude.

"Well……"

Kannot stroked his chin, and the tentacles under his cloak bent as he pondered, making a weighing sound: "Since it's you, Captain, who asked, I'll certainly give you face, after all, our cooperation has always been very pleasant."

"but."

He abruptly changed the subject, his voice now laced with a businessman's cunning: "As you know, the journey through this wasteland is treacherous, and carrying an infected person would be extremely risky and costly for me..."

"You don't need to worry about that."

Froststar answered this question. Kannot's bargaining was full of probing, and she was not so unaware of this level of misunderstanding. She immediately said calmly, "Milan is not infected. He has the ability to protect himself, so you don't need to worry about him. Moreover... you don't need to worry about his accommodation."

"If he's going somewhere, just give him a ride."

"So it wasn't Miss Frostnova. Where are you taking him?"

Froststar frowned at Cannot's words.

The Patriot gazed at him and said slowly, "He is valuable, you understand."

This statement was both a statement and a warning—Cannot's tentacles immediately stiffened.

"Understood, understood! Captain, rest assured, I, Kannot, value integrity above all else in business."

His stiffness quickly returned to normal, and his voice became brighter: "A talent like Milan, I will definitely take good care of him and find him a safe place that... well, has a promising future."

"Then, shall I tell him to prepare now?"

"not busy."

Froststar shook her head and said, "Wait until your goods are all loaded... wait until his last class is over."

Milan had nothing to prepare; with his inventory in hand, he had all his belongings safely on him.

—Dung blocks, cobblestone blocks, saplings, log blocks, crafting tables, compost bins, furnaces, bone meal, wheat seeds, potatoes, bread, charcoal, torches…

—And there's also the Tinkers' Construct crafting table, workstation, wooden molds, rock-paneled armor, spare armor, and substitute axes...

Although they still appear to be penniless and destitute, Milan's current resources are scarce, a stark contrast to when the Yeti team first arrived.

When Eryishan Wuqi Jiu IIIII first fell onto this land, he was completely clueless about how to survive.

Now, it can be said that in most parts of this land, he has the confidence to survive independently, live well, and even develop his own territory.

"It's been a long time, my friend. I'm so glad to see you safe and sound."

It was already dark. Perhaps they knew something beforehand, because the veterans didn't ask as many questions as before, and left quickly after he announced the end of the session. Milan finished taking stock of his belongings, but more than the supplies, he was feeling emotional. He leaned against the outside of his burrow, watching the warm, flickering firelight in the camp.

Until Cannot's voice, both strange and familiar, rang out.

"Mr. Cannot."

"Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening, my friend. We meet again."

Even without seeing his face, Milan could imagine a sly merchant's smiling face from under that helmet: "To my surprise, my friend, I never expected you to be such a capable person."

"When I first arrived at the camp today, it took me a lot of effort to suppress the feeling of having suffered a huge loss."

He chuckled as he spoke, but Milan didn't respond, only smiling silently. Then Cannot's voice calmed down. He walked to Milan's side, also looking at the warm firelight in the desolate landscape, and said, "Although I don't quite understand what happened between you two, but... are you really determined to leave?"

"Yes, it's decided."

The traces of the burrow have been cleaned up, and the things left for the Yeti and the guerrillas have been put in the storeroom. There's nothing to say goodbye to, nothing to be nostalgic about... If you really want to say something, there's no need to care about this moment.

He has his own ideas.

"Let's go then, my car is already here."

Milan sat back in his familiar seat, just as he had arrived, only now he was alone. The car vibrated as Cannot drove, and he said from the front, "I won't charge you for the rest of the way, I keep my word, but I can't take you too far for free."

"Where are you going?"

"...Chernoborg."

Milan watched the flames recede into the distance in the rearview mirror, twitched the corners of her mouth, and closed her eyes.

Friends, until we meet again.

Volume Two: The Dark Ages and the Fire of the Forge

Chapter 33: Starting from the Night

The car that left was the same car that came in; the driver was the same, and the seats were the same.

—So what has changed?

Sitting in the familiar back seat of the jeep by the window, Milan propped her head up with her elbow on the door, watching the dark and blurry night outside the window fly by.

The wheels crunched softly over the dry, hard earth of Ursus. There was hardly any heating inside the car, but the two people inside didn't seem to care about such details.

Milan let out a long sigh of relief.

With my eyes closed, the flickering firelight in the Yeti Squad camp, the veteran's focused gaze, Froststar's cold yet complex eyes, and Patriot's silent and heavy figure like a mountain—even though I've only been in this world for a few days, these scenes flash through my mind like a revolving lantern, endlessly churning.

Milan never imagined that one day she would fall into the world of this game, and how could she have felt the feeling of "going it alone" first from the cheat?

That's kind of ridiculous, bro.

His breath condensed into a small blur on the car window, and this was the scene he saw when he opened his eyes: the emotions of the memories came and went quickly, and now was not the time to indulge in them... nor was there any room for such indulgence.

If when you first transmigrated, all that lay before you was a chaotic darkness, with no way to see the road ahead or the future—then now in Milan, you have a greater motivation to "want to do something."

—At the end of October 1096… one month, one and a half months, or at most two months?

He slightly curled the corners of his mouth, and his eyes hardened.

"Oh, by the way, friend, since I'm just driving around doing nothing anyway, could you satisfy a little bit of my curiosity?"

Milan had just gathered her thoughts when Cannot's voice rang out as if at the perfect moment, breaking the silence in the car; he was still the same faceless man in the iron bucket helmet, now only using his sea creature-like tentacles to hold the steering wheel, letting the jeep race like a wild donkey across the wilderness, while he turned his face towards the back seat.

...Well, it's really not easy to tell which side is his face when he looks like this.

"Look, my friend."

His voice carried his usual slick, shrewd cheerfulness: "Our last meeting was rushed, and I was too embarrassed to pry into your situation since you weren't in a clear state at the time... You see, all I know is that you're a craftsman who survived a natural disaster, but I don't even know what you do specifically."

"Now that you've witnessed how you lectured those old guerrillas... would it be convenient for you to talk to me a bit more?"

Milan smiled and said, "What's wrong, Mr. Kannot, are you now curious about the profit and loss of that last transaction?"

"If we see through each other but don't say anything, we can still be good friends."

Kannot let out a laugh that sounded like it had the smell of seawater: "I don't know what went wrong between you and those guerrillas, but in this wilderness, it's not easy to find a truly skilled craftsman... and even if you are a truly skilled craftsman, it's not easy for you to cross the wilderness alone."

"As far as I know, the mortality rate for lone travelers on this Ursus snowfield is over 70%... You see, I promised Mr. Patriot that I would find you a stable environment."

"How about you consider it? You might not believe it, but I know quite a few people who are eager to recruit exceptional talent. Whether it's security or resources, isn't that much better than you insisting on going to Chernobog..."

"Speaking of which, you don't know anyone in Chernobog, do you? You don't look like it, Craftsman. No matter how I look at you, you look more like a Yan countryman than a bear cub from Ursus."

Cannot seemed to have opened a floodgate of words, rattling off a long list of things; Milan turned her head to look at the front of his face through the iron barrel helmet, which, of course, revealed no expression, making it difficult to guess what kind of considerations were hidden beneath.

He didn't need to speculate further.

“I appreciate Mr. Cannot’s kindness.”

Milan chuckled: "But I'm alright. During the time I was taken care of by the Yeti Squad, my memory has returned somewhat, and I've also regained some of my skills."

"Not much, but enough for now."

"This land isn't safe, my friend. Think carefully, how good are your skills?"

"It should be enough to deal with something like Rust Hammer."

Milan's phosphorus is V-Leek IV-Grip Smile.

"……Really."

Kannot's helmet seemed to tilt slightly: "You're even more unassuming than I thought, my friend. You see, you're a craftsman, and I'm a merchant. Your words have certainly piqued my curiosity..."

"Of course I have no intention of hiding anything from Mr. Cannot."

Milan smiled and said, "Mr. Businessman, I still remember your kindness in saving me from a natural disaster. If there is a chance for trade in the future... I will give you an 82% discount on non-life-threatening transactions, and I will not charge you for life-threatening ones."

Kannot: "..."

This mysterious smuggler, whose identity and species are unknown, and who spends his days traveling between various places in the wilderness, was unusually silent when discussing business.