Colin also has some insights into personnel management.
For example, he felt it was more appropriate to let the military police handle things like taking over former colleagues and subordinates.
These skeleton soldiers who had followed him for a long time were not only reliable, but they were also skeletons themselves.
As for the " Fang Soldiers," although they are skilled in battle and have other duties, it's still not reassuring to entrust such matters to outsiders.
No sooner had the skeletons fled than Colin's skeleton military police arrived at the camp.
Just as Colin had predicted, his skeleton men were unusually steady in their work, but...
Inevitably, they will also have some small habits unique to skeletons--
They questioned how many skeletons had gone to the front lines and how many had stayed behind for logistics, inquired about the remaining supplies, and even questioned the resting area of Lord Grant, whose head had already been chopped off, trying to find some "profit" from it.
Seeing the debris scattered all over the ground, the skeleton military police assumed that someone had gotten there first and planned to question the group outside more thoroughly later.
These are skeleton soldiers; while they are reliable, they are perhaps a bit too rule-abiding.
As for the fact that several skeletons were missing when checking the roster, that will have to wait until everyone has made their share of the profits.
The disappearance of a few skeletons had no impact on the overall situation. The entire camp remained in a state of excitement and chaos. Some people were afraid of being purged, some felt they could go home, and some worried that the humans wouldn't be able to withstand the millions of Blood Corpse.
Colin, wielding a broadsword, sat alone on his central command throne, looking like a burly man ready to rise and chop someone down at any moment.
He felt the noise and commotion around him, and in a daze, he realized that no one could understand his state of mind at that moment.
Colin glanced in the direction of the Soul Returner camp and sighed inwardly:
"Sigh, [ the Ginseng Rooster ] and the others are probably engaged in tough negotiations right now..."
"It's too tough!"
[ The Ginseng Rooster ] said to Duma with tears in his eyes:
"It's all sand over there. It's hot during the day and cold at night. It never rains or grows grass all year round. We even have to grow our own food."
As he spoke, he forcefully stuffed large amounts of meat and fish into his mouth, saying in a muffled voice:
"It's just too tough!"
Although [ Ginseng Rooster ] usually turns off the taste function during most gameplay, it would be a bit foolish not to turn it on during a barbecue buffet.
A whole Vine Sheep rib was stuffed into [ Ginseng Rooster ]'s mouth, then he flipped it around with his tongue a couple of times before spitting out a clean bone. He chewed it vigorously, unable to say a word for a moment.
"Yes, yes."
[ Gu Gugu ] and [ Ever-Changing Master Ye ] spoke one after the other:
"Those skeletons seem to survive simply by absorbing Psionic Energy, which is even more absurd than Wens — Wens would die if you threw him into the desert, but the skeletons can live."
Watching the three of them literally gulp down their food, even pounding their chests with their hands because the food was squeezing their tracheas, Duma, sitting on the other side of the table, couldn't help but twitch her lips slightly.
Although it was something that had been discussed beforehand, these three Soul Returner were actually unwilling to even put on an act.
The three men's serious demeanor only lasted until their identities were verified. After entering the tent, they immediately revealed their true colors, much like college students returning to their hometown.
Seeing that the three of them were somewhat choked up, Duma raised his glass at the opportune moment.
"Cheers!" x4 (He has four hands)
"Cheers!" x3 (There are three players)
The three Soul Returner raised their glasses in unison, and together they drank a full cup of some unknown brew.
Brewing in World of Disorder clearly hasn't reached the industrial stage.
In this world devoid of microorganisms and reliant entirely on Psionic Energy, everyone's understanding of brewing is simply—
1. Get some edible plant fruits, preferably fruits or crops.
2. Wash it clean, cut it into small pieces, and put it in a jar.
3. Seal and wait, and don't forget to pray if you can.
After a period of time, open the sealed jar. If drinking the contents won't kill you but will give you a dizzy feeling, then you've brewed wine.
If someone drinks it to death, then they've brewed an incredibly amazing wine.
However, even if it was poisoned wine, it wouldn't mean much to Duma.
At his level, it would be virtually impossible for him to suffer any debuffs unless Adelaide personally poisoned him.
As for the players, they certainly won't get drunk. Some players have tried it and found that the alcohol in the World of Disorder can't affect their consciousness itself; at most, it can only give their bodies a slowing debuff.
So at this moment, everyone in the tent was simply drinking this " Holy City Craft Beer" like water with their meals.
Duma finished the four cups of sweet water, wiped his mouth, and asked the others:
"You're going back in a bit?"
[ Ginseng Rooster ] waved his hand:
"Going back tomorrow will make it seem like we've been talking for a long time."
Duma's lips twitched, and he waved to signal the few Holy Crusaders NPCs he had brought to arrange the camp.
He thought for a moment and then asked:
"My condition is actually very simple: just let them give up their main camp and leave it to us."
"That place is really nice, and I don't know which kind person leveled the ground, so with a little preparation, a city could be built right there."
"As for the teleportation they want, Nuowa has already agreed; all that's needed is to confirm the specific time."
[ Ginseng Rooster ] nodded in agreement:
"Yes, there are too many Blood Corpse; we can't kill them all in a short time. We need a city as a base."
"Haha, who said we were going to kill them all?"
Just as [ Ginseng Rooster ] was complaining about the excessive number of Blood Corpse while stuffing himself with food, a somewhat familiar voice came from behind.
He turned his head and saw a good friend he hadn't seen "in person" for the past month or two:
"[ Do Some Farm Work ]? What are you doing here?"
You didn't expect that, did you?
[ On the Do Some Farm Work ] entered the tent, grabbed a chair very familiarly, and sat down next to the group:
"My current position is actually similar to yours; we both help each other come up with ideas."
"Is that so?"
[ Ginseng Rooster ] nodded:
"Looks like we're colleagues now."
"Actually, not really. The one who truly rivals you here in Duma is [ A Huan ], but his current focus is on those 'regular troops'."
"Regular army?"
[ Ginseng Rooster ] paused for a moment:
"Where did these regular troops come from?"
"I'm from my hometown, but don't ask me the specifics yet."
"What I really want to talk about is something else, which is why we absolutely must establish ourselves in that camp and build a city."
"You say."
"That's over a million Blood Corpse!"
[ On the Do Some Farm Work ] He spread his arms out and gestured:
"If we could all dispose of it harmlessly, and everyone put in the effort, maybe we could quickly mechanize agriculture in the Theocracy!"