Chapter 152: What Are You Burning?

"Ugh... this is abit too much... Can't we ask the Sangvis Ferri nearby to help?" RFB, clad in full protective gear, complained as she shoveled the severed infected limbs on the ground into the cart beside her.

"Hurry up and do it. I asked you to help with the moving just now, why didn't you go?" M200, dressed similarly to RFB, held a shovel too, and her cart was already full.

"Well, there's just so much stuff in the containers... and I didn't expect there to be this much! How many infected did Simonov and the others encounter last night!?" RFB's hands trembled as she surveyed the ground littered with the remains of infected, all torn open.

So many! Also, When will she finish shoveling!? And why are they all torn open!?

"Burp! Well, work is work, take it easy. The commander didn't say we had to clean it up today."

"A-91, if you hadn't wasted time modifying your protective suit and put more effort into it, you could have at least cleared the square in front." A-91 worked while sipping vodka, which annoyed MP5.

A-91 had spent the past two hours in the container just to secure three bottles of vodka inside her suit, with long straws attached for drinking without spilling.

Hearing MP5's words, A-91 shrugged, lazily lifted her shovel, and scooped up some remains into the cart.

There were only M200 and the four of them in front of the factory building; the rest with power exoskeletons had gone with Remault to transport materials, while Simonov and M1 Garand had gone to drive.

The remaining ones without power exoskeletons, NZ75, C96, MP40, and P90, followed G36 to the building next to the factory. It was supposed to be the workers' quarters, and they needed to quickly clear out some space, or they would have to sleep in containers again tonight.

All the useless things in the building, whether old luggage or used items, had to be thrown out. The only things worth keeping were some relatively intact and usable furniture.

But G36 was annoyed. How could she forget that P90 liked picking up used old clothes everywhere? She should have sent her outside to help clean up the remains of the infected!

You! You can't even pick up the torn clothes from the ELID infected, can you!?

Of course, P90 was picky. She wouldn't take dirty clothes or men's clothing; she only picked out the clothes left by the female workers and some small items left in drawers and on tables.

"P90! Stop picking and help open a door! We need to throw all this stuff out!" NZ75, working hard, yelled at P90, who was holding a shiny badge with a mischievous smile.

She was working hard here, but P90 was slacking off! Even if she wanted to slack off, she shouldn't do it so openly!

"Ah, NZ75, give me a rag. I can barely see anything!" C96, wearing protective gear, ran out of a nearby dorm with a broom, covered in dusty dirt, her full-coverage helmet obscured by dust.

NZ75 handed her a relatively clean smock, and MP40 also came over to ask for one. Wiping her helmet visor, she sighed with relief, "It's a good thing we have protective gear, or we wouldn't be able to wash off all this dust in less than an hour."

Thankfully, Tactical Dolls don't sweat...

"Hehe, that's true. But compared to the dust inside the house, the work outside is worse." P90 put away the badge she just picked up, helped NZ75 open the door, and pointed outside to RFB and the others clearing the infected.

"Uh, I think it's okay. At least we don't have to clean up all this mess inside the house." C96 envied M200 and the others outside. Instead of sweeping here, she'd rather go outside and vent her excess energy.

"Oh, Simonov and the others are back. How many trips is this now? There shouldn't be many boxes left, right?" Three trucks had made several trips back and forth, bringing all the containers stored at the Sangvis Ferri station over. The materials were all stored in the warehouse, and their personal belongings were placed near the building entrance.

"That's all of it. We made eight trips in total, twenty-two cargo containers in all. Once M1 Garand and the others return, we'll be done. The square outside and the rooms shouldn't take long to clean up." NZ75 had been keeping track, and now seeing the powered exoskeletons returning behind the trucks, her tone became noticeably lighter.

As expected, with more people, it didn't take long to clear out a suitable dormitory. The same was true for the piles of infected bodies outside.

They were all thrown onto the empty ground in the neighboring factory area, doused with fuel, and added with accelerants, including various old items and furniture cleared from the building.

It was a farewell to these unfortunate people.

Honestly, Remault couldn't understand where the owner of this factory got the courage to bring so many living workers into the polluted area to work. Maybe when they came in, it wasn't polluted here.

But on the way from the station to the factory area, there were no supporting facilities at all. Obviously, no one had thought about rebuilding this city. Maybe they just saw that the Sangvis Ferri Manufacturing had repaired the power plant nearby, so they wanted to take advantage of it quietly?

But regardless of the reason, it didn't change the fact that he occupied this factory area. If that unscrupulous factory owner dared to send people over to cause him trouble, he wouldn't mind showing them what a real security contractor could do.

And perhaps seeing the red sky over the factory area, the Scarecrow also led a group of SF personnels to come over individually.

"What are you guys doing? Having a bonfire party?" Looking at the roaring flames, the Scarecrow couldn't figure out what Remault and the others were burning.

"Nothing, just some remains of infected. Have the passes to the city to the west been arranged as you said?"

"Remains of the infected... So many!?" Seeing the massive pile in front of him, the Scarecrow was also taken aback. This quantity looked like there were at least eight hundred to a thousand!