Terra Tinkers Construct is fine.

The workers immediately dispersed and instinctively formed two rows at the entrance. Although their clothes were still not very neat, they tried their best to assume a waiting posture.

All the discussions and speculations came to an abrupt halt. Milan emerged from the shadows, with Pavel respectfully following behind him. The workers, unable to discern the emotions beneath Milan's calm expression, remained silent, while Milan glanced at them, counted their numbers, and nodded.

"It's alright, just a bit dirty; Pavel, make a note of this, come up with me this afternoon to prepare some daily necessities for the brothers."

"Frank, you... how did you get so exhausted?"

Milan was stunned for a moment when she saw Frank, who was drenched in sweat.

"Um, sir..."

Frank, who was sitting on the ground, quickly got up.

As Milan had instructed, he was supposed to be in charge of recording the progress of other people—but he had laid off most of the steel pipeline staff, leaving only a few people, Big Bear and Little Bear, who couldn't manage so many threads, and he personally shut down many projects.

Smuggling is a job that depends on luck. For the time being, apart from the workers' regular equipment maintenance and inspection duties, the workers' workload was actually much lighter. Frank himself, on the other hand, had nothing to do and was worried that he was worthless, so he could only spend all his energy wrestling with the wooden door.

...The wooden door, weighing over 300 kilograms, creaked and groaned, which exhausted him to the point of looking like a bear.

"Alright, alright, you don't need to show your loyalty like that. I'm telling you, you don't need to take that thing seriously. I didn't expect you to spend the whole morning on it."

"...Tsk, the kid is really stubborn."

Inspections can be faked, paperwork can be faked, but the hooks produced by the excavator cannot be faked; Milan looked at the small pile of hooks Frank had produced and couldn't help but click her tongue.

—It's a good thing he's from Ursus, this guy... not only is he stubborn, but he's also incredibly strong.

"Remember to remind me when you're done working that you take two bottles of wine from the wine cabinet home."

All the Ursus workers raised their heads in unison, and several of them clearly swallowed hard.

"Now follow me, I'm going to take you somewhere."

"Ah, this..."

Some people raised a questioning voice.

They had no doubts about following Milan, but they were puzzled by how familiar the road seemed to them the further they walked; their footsteps echoed in the confined space, everyone's heart pounded, and their eyes exchanged silently in the dim light.

The further they went, the more uneasy they became: the road was familiar, but precisely because it was familiar, they also knew where it would lead.

Isn't this the same open space that Boris used to threaten and blockade Milan when he was trying to fool them?

"what?"

The closer they got to their destination, the more confused the workers became. Their confusion turned to surprise when the route they had traveled countless times took an unexpected turn. The road that should have been unobstructed was blocked by an unfamiliar wall. The material of the wall was clearly different from the surrounding steel structure. It was a gray, rocky texture.

Only a narrow path, which was also familiar to them, remained on the side, serving as a way to bypass this area.

"what happened?"

"This wall wasn't here before..."

The word "before" was so close that the speaker immediately realized what it meant and turned his gaze to Milan, who was leading the way; Milan did not stop, but simply walked to the wall and took out a stone pickaxe.

...thump thump thump.

With a few muffled thuds, a large chunk of the seemingly solid stone wall vanished, revealing the shadow of an empty space and a flickering light.

Workers: "..."

Milan didn't speak, glanced back at them, then turned and went inside first; Pavel followed closely behind, and before going in, he also turned back to look at his companions, silently making a shrug, the meaning of which was self-evident.

—Now you understand, right?

Ignoring the terrain and digging tunnels at will—Pavel's chilling words from that morning were now presented to them in the most direct way.

They awoke as if from a dream, and with shock and unease, they filed in one by one; when everyone was in place, Milan put down the cobblestone and blocked the entrance once again—but this time no one was surprised by his action, because their attention was drawn to another place.

What did they see?

The once empty, dark space, constructed only of cold metal, has been completely transformed!

The old metal floor, once covered in stains and rust, is now covered with a thick layer of soil. The soil is a healthy brown, arranged in neat square blocks, with a glossy sheen on the sides and fine signs of cultivation on the top.

Amazingly, tender green shoots have already sprouted on the surface of those cultivated lands, showing a delightful growth momentum.

In the center of the farmland was a small, perfectly square puddle, while the edges of the farmland were roads of distinctly different colors. Torches were stuck in the middle of the roads, illuminating the area with a bright, warm orange light. The same torches were also stuck in the walls, illuminating the area with a greater presence than the Originium emergency lights.

Firelight always gives people a sense of vitality that is completely different from the overly stable light.

Within the firelight's illumination, they saw even more incomprehensible things: such as the strange structure that formed the office, including the wooden door—for the Emperor's sake, they simply couldn't bring themselves to call it a machine; there were also square boxes, strange square stone instruments, square wooden tables, and square black stone construction equipment…

Everything was filled with a strong sense of squareness, just as this new boss had an extraordinary obsession with squareness.

"you……"

Amid their bewilderment, Milan had already walked toward the stack of boxes; with a creak, he lifted the lid, then turned back to look at the group of dirty, burly men, his brows furrowing slightly.

"You guys...do you usually eat like this for lunch?"

"Sir, this..."

The workers looked at each other in bewilderment. Pavel, as their representative, stepped forward and replied somewhat awkwardly, "We underground workers usually don't have a proper lunch. We just bring some convenient food with us and make do with whatever we can find."

He paused, looked at his slightly rusty hands, then at the somewhat unclean hands of others, and said helplessly, "You're talking about cleanliness, which we usually don't care about."

"..."

Milan didn't say anything after hearing this. He walked behind the box, pulled off the bed sheet he had bought the day before, tore it open with a few ripping sounds, and stuffed it into Pavel's hands. Pavel was taken aback, his expression and feelings were both complicated. He understood and handed over the piece of cloth.

Milan lifted the wooden crate again, turned around, and opened his palm, revealing a steaming, golden-brown crust...

Baked potatoes?

Chapter 51: Clues

Baked potatoes

Modern people may not have many opportunities to eat a whole roasted potato, but experienced people probably know that when it is roasted, it releases a mild, mellow, and comforting aroma, much like a staple food.

The aroma wasn't overpowering or overpowering; the subtle hint of caramelization was surprisingly appetizing.

"!?"

The workers looked astonished, but Milan did not stop. He stuffed the fist-sized, still steaming roasted potatoes into each of their hands. As he handed one over, another would appear out of thin air in their hands, just like when he took out a weapon. The potatoes were neither too big nor too small, and they were quite heavy in the hands. The slightly hot feeling made the workers come back to their senses and subconsciously wrap them securely with the cloth they had just been given.

"One for each of you, eat first, and we'll talk about it if you're still hungry."

After sending it, Milan pointed to the box: He had made a lot of preparations when he left the Yeti, including food to deal with emergencies; of course, now that he had settled in the city, he was not so short of food, so even though the crops he planted were not yet ripe... he still had no problem feeding these dozen or so bear-men.

After saying that, Milan didn't stay there to watch the workers eat. He turned around and left, jumping onto the thick layer of soil in full view of everyone to observe the growth of the crops.

The workers looked at each other, holding their hot roasted potatoes.

"Just, just one baked potato?"

The unique aroma of roasted potatoes filled the air, an atmosphere that undeniably stimulated their stomachs—someone glanced at Milan, who had walked some distance, then at the potato in their hand, and pursed their lips.

"Just one, who's going to eat that..."

"I thought there would be some meat."

"You're overthinking it. You think you can get something for nothing and expect to get something in return?"

"Even a little soup would be fine."

They made a rustling sound; some complained softly, while others shook their heads and advised, "Shh, keep it down. Having something to eat is better than nothing."

No one took the "we'll talk if it's not enough" statement seriously; they just comforted each other and suppressed their complaints with a sense of helplessness. For these strong Ursus men who did manual labor, what could one roasted potato possibly do?

It's more like a snack to tide you over; to treat it as a meal is just a joke.

"Even from a distance, it really smells quite good."

"I haven't had roasted potatoes in a while..."

However, at least one thing is undeniable: as food in Minecraft, this roasted potato, like bread, exhibits remarkably high quality in reality. The workers, after a few minor complaints, also noticed this. The roasted potato clearly had the aroma of potatoes originating from the earth, and the slightly sweet taste of starch caramelizing and the rich, nutty flavor made them almost stunned when they took a bite.

"...These roasted potatoes, even just roasted potatoes, aren't cheap, are they?"

The group looked at each other, their minds racing with thoughts, but no one dared to complain about the roasted potatoes anymore. Some stared wide-eyed, trying to see what was so special about the potatoes, while others nibbled on them, savoring their soft and creamy texture.

Some people swallowed the whole potato in a few bites—he patted his stomach, the lingering fragrance still seemed to linger between his teeth, making him want to "go ask for another one" overpower the idea of ​​"just bear with it."

Even half is fine.

But as soon as he lifted his foot, before he even put his hand down to rub his stomach, he showed a surprised expression.

He lowered his head and looked at his belly, which belonged to a middle-aged man from Ursus.

"what happened?"

Putting aside gang reasons, these were all longtime coworkers; everyone knew each other. The man had barely set off when someone guessed his thoughts and secretly paid attention. Seeing his strange expression, they whispered, "Feeling unwell after eating? That can't be right. I thought these potatoes were fine."

"I've never had such delicious potatoes before... Are you planning to ask for another one?"

What are you standing there for?

"...No, it's not."

Under the urging gazes of his fellow workers, the worker raised his head, thought for a long time, and then stammered:

"Weird."

"I...I feel like I'm full?"

Milan's ears twitched slightly.

He didn't hear the workers' whispers very clearly, but he kept an eye on their attitude: he left only so the workers wouldn't feel like he was watching them, and he wasn't unaware of the methods he used to establish his authority, so he pretended to be uninterested.

His promise of a full meal was never a joke. Unlike the Ursus people, as a time traveler from China, he at least had an instinctive respect for "giving people enough to eat."

Killing someone is just a matter of beheading them, but eating is a different story—but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on these guys.

For example, if someone wanted to eat again, he was prepared to turn back.

For example, when the worker and the others stopped savoring the food and quickly finished their roasted potatoes in a couple of bites, and then couldn't believe their unusual feeling of fullness... he was also slightly surprised.

Is this how satiety and saturation are represented in reality?

Does this manifest as energy replenishment and food portion size?

This is definitely worth noting.

Thinking of this, Milan sighed silently: If I had known it would be like this, I would have left the Yeti team before... Oh well, I never knew.

Given his personality, unless he has his own Minecraft main world and can grow rapidly in this stage that can be called the "early stage of transmigration" until he has the ability to escape unscathed from the Yeti squad or even the Infected guerrillas, it's still the same old story—he most likely won't confidently display his Minecraft-level productivity.

He wouldn't mind cooperating with the infected guerrillas to build a new team from within the Reunion Movement; but there's a prerequisite: he must first have the confidence to ensure he won't be forced or coerced into staying.

He didn't think about it anymore.

And this magical lunch soon came to an end—as the old saying goes, when people are well-fed and clothed, they know honor and shame. This applies everywhere, and it is the same for the people of Ursus; when their stomachs are full and their most basic survival needs are met, their anxieties are satisfied, and their minds become much more at ease.

Visibly, after this working meal, the workers' attitudes changed noticeably: the previous subtle complaints and restless unease disappeared, replaced by a peculiar simplicity and obedience.

It even carried a hint of respect.

"Has everyone eaten their fill? Is YinwujiuVIshanerU705.COM the first to release?"

Milan's voice rang out calmly.

The workers, who had been exchanging glances because of the feeling of fullness, seemed to wake up from a dream and nodded repeatedly. Some of those who had complained earlier even shrank back unconsciously.

"I'm full, sir."

The first worker to finish eating said honestly, "Sir, these potatoes... are really amazing. They're so small, yet they've made us feel so full."

—When a person is full, even their eyes become clear.

Milan chuckled inwardly, but remained outwardly expressionless, simply nodding. The unexpectedly hearty meal was more effective than any verbal threats or admonitions, so he didn't say much, only instructing them to maintain the status quo.

The workers did their maintenance, did their side jobs, and kept everything on the surface as normal—their departure seemed much more deliberate.

After that, Milan called up Pavel.

"Get ready, we're going up again."

　Two, Qi Lu Cu Shan Liu

This time, they changed direction. Following the directions Pavel found by referring to the engineering drawings, Milan dug another road to the surface—the corresponding area on the ground was different, but what they had in common was that it was still a remote place rarely visited by people.

Above ground in Chernobog, sunlight streamed through the buildings above the moving city, creating a stark contrast to the dark and oppressive underground. Milan took a deep breath; the air wasn't exactly fresh, but it was certainly more vibrant than the underground air.

"Sir, where are we going this time?"

Having already developed the self-awareness of a competent lackey, Pavel glanced at the perfectly sealed ground, which looked as if it had never been excavated, and very tactfully asked, "Is this still the same building materials market?"