6:37:19 p.m.
It was Zhang Yang's ninth hour since traveling back 300 years.
Now, above that air-raid shelter warehouse, fifty semitrailer trucks stood in a row, while more than fifty loading forklifts bustled about.
Although this factory district could not compare with the heavy industrial zones in the Empire's other provinces, it was still quite advanced. There had originally been gantry cranes, transport railways, and other equipment, but they had all been destroyed by that Iron Demon, leaving the vast quantities of supplies inside the air-raid shelter impossible to transport.
But even just picking some of the machinery and supplies from the enormous factory district was enough to fill those fifty semitrailer trucks.
"Yangzi, really, can't we establish a base here?"
This was the seventh time Fatty's father had come back to ask after wandering around several times.
"No, Uncle. But by the day after tomorrow at the latest, we'll be able to come back and kill our way in again. We can take whatever we want then."
Zhang Yang felt the pain too, but he also knew perfectly well that there was no room for discussion. The Fantasy Village Building Order still had three chances to relocate the village, but the Apocalyptic Fortress from the Apocalyptic Village Building Order—really couldn't be relocated. Although it could be moved once, the seven-day cooldown would drive Zhang Yang to despair.
His apocalyptic start was already quite good. Not everyone began with supplies filling fifty semitrailer trucks.
And among those supplies were the machinery his Apocalyptic Fortress desperately needed.
For example, diesel generator sets weighing nearly five or six tons, lathes, and so on. He did not recognize most of the others, but since Fatty's father had personally selected them, the technical workers had prioritized dismantling them, and Li Dong's engineering troops had