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墨書 Inktalez
Lilian followed Frode to the outside of the greenhouse where the Potato Base was located.
Before they stepped inside, she spotted a man and a woman busy working in the soil. Both were dressed in black protective gear and rain boots, moving about in the muddy field.
The man had long, fiery red hair tied back in a single braid that swayed gently with his movements. Upon noticing Frode and Lilian, he paused his work, turned around, and smiled at them, revealing a row of pearly white teeth. He looked only about sixteen or seventeen years old, full of youthful energy, even younger than Frode, radiating vitality and enthusiasm.
The other person was a woman with long black hair cascading smoothly over her shoulders. She held a hoe tightly in her hands and stood to the side, staring blankly as Frode led Lilian closer. Her eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and shyness, as if she wasn’t quite accustomed to interacting with strangers.
As Frode approached with Lilian, he began the introductions.
"This is Morocco. If you have any questions, feel free to ask him; he’ll help you out. And this is Witlin. She’s a bit shy, but after work, you can go with her to the girls' dormitory where an administrator will register your identity and assign you a room."
Lilian quickly replied, "Thank you, Frode."
"You're welcome. I have things to attend to, so I’ll be on my way. You two have a good chat," Frode said before turning to leave.
Once Frode was gone, Morocco looked Lilian up and down with an expression of awe and couldn’t help but whistle. "Wow, you’re stunning! More beautiful than our Dawn’s leader, Daphne."
Lilian couldn’t help but laugh. "No, Daphne is more beautiful; it’s just that she’s too cold for you all to appreciate her beauty."
"Alright then, beautiful lady, you’re right about that. Now please allow me and Witlin to welcome you properly." With that, Morocco’s flamboyant red hair bounced as he moved, smiling widely to reveal his bright teeth. "Welcome aboard! If you have any questions in the future, just ask me; I’ve got your back!"
Witlin seemed a bit shy; upon hearing Morocco’s words, her cheeks flushed slightly as she softly said, "Nice to meet you. Let’s do our best together from now on."
She lowered her head slightly, nervously tugging at the hem of her shirt. Her voice was gentle yet sincere.
In the days that followed, Lilian learned planting techniques alongside them.
Morocco was always full of energy, sharing various interesting jokes while working, making everyone burst into laughter.
"Do you know, yesterday I went hunting and saw a Zombie? The way it moved was like it was dancing a silly dance, it cracked me up!" He described the scene vividly, gesturing animatedly. Witlin couldn't help but chuckle, and Lilian was also swept up in his humor, momentarily forgetting the fears of the apocalypse.
Though Witlin spoke little, she was serious and meticulous in her work. She patiently guided Lilian, teaching her how to discern whether potato seeds were healthy and how to control the amount of water for irrigation.
"This seed is a bit shriveled; it might not produce good potatoes. We need to choose the plump ones," she said softly, her gaze focused.
With their help, Lilian gradually adapted to life at the base.
In this post-apocalyptic world, resources were extremely scarce, and warm yet practical clothing had long been snatched away by others.
Having just arrived, Lilian hadn't accumulated enough points to exchange for suitable clothes and could only rummage through some discarded old garments that others had deemed unworthy.
One day, she wore a slightly worn white dress. The back of the dress was somewhat damaged, exposing large patches of her fair skin, which accentuated her graceful figure like a splash of color in the bleak world.
As she carried a basket of carefully cultivated potatoes towards the boys' dormitory to find Frode, she caught the attention of several men along the way.
Those with ulterior motives wore lecherous expressions on their faces, whistling at her with eyes full of greed and desire. However, due to Frode's status in the base, they dared only to watch from a distance, not daring to make any overt moves.
Lilian suppressed her feelings of dissatisfaction and disgust, trying hard to ignore those malicious gazes as she quickened her pace.
Finally, she arrived at Frode's dormitory door. When the door opened and Frode saw her, he was momentarily taken aback, but then he welcomed her inside.
The onlookers nearby, witnessing this, reluctantly dispersed, their curiosity and attempts to probe into their relationship dissipating.
Frode was one of the two powerful Abilities under the leadership of the female leader Daphne in the base, and his formidable strength commanded respect from everyone. He understood that Lilian's reason for approaching him under the pretext of delivering food was to create an impression that they shared a close bond, thereby deterring others from bothering her.
However, every time he saw Lilian, a warm current surged within him. In this harsh post-apocalyptic world, he carefully buried these feelings deep within his heart.
Meanwhile, Lilian, through her frequent interactions with Frode, gradually developed a special dependence on him, though she had yet to fully realize it herself.
In her daily life, she appreciated Frode's care and often brought him fresh vegetables and fruits from her own garden.
Each time she visited, she attracted numerous gazes. Some male Ability users whispered among themselves as they watched Lilian's retreating figure.
"This new girl is really beautiful; Frode is such a lucky guy."
"Exactly! He gets to eat what she brings every day—how enviable."
After a day's hard work, Lilian would sit in a corner of the base, watching the sunset and contemplating her future days.
Though the future was filled with uncertainty, having friends like Frode, Morocco, and Witlin by her side made it seem less daunting.
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