Gideon stepped out of the tower, with Kilian trailing behind him, his expression openly disappointed.

"Why are you getting rid of the bar?" he groaned.

"I don’t want to start another alcoholic epidemic," Gideon replied plainly. "And I don’t want you disturbing the people who work there."

Kilian let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

From above, a sharp chorus of chirping echoed through the air, threaded with a faint, almost guttural growl. Gideon tilted his head up.

A courier dove circled overhead, its striking red color making it impossible to miss even from a distance. It belonged to Freebound.

Doves in this world, like any aberrant, had long since mutated.

This one had elongated tails that resembled giant flower pistils, thin yet thick at the same time, swaying behind it like trailing ribbons. They looked like decorative appendages, but in truth, they were exposed nerves.

The bird itself was blind, but its nerves made it possible to track movement.

Red hibiscus flowers bloomed through its face, swallowing where its eyes should have been.

Its wide wings, when seen from afar, looked like petals drifting through the sky. Yet when it descended and landed neatly on Kilian’s shoulder, the illusion broke.

Up close, they were simply feathers, white on the inside and red on the outside.

The species was called Columbin, one of the earliest aberrants successfully domesticated for courier work.

They still fed on the flesh of other aberrants, but they had been trained not to attack humans.

Of course, the domesticated ones differed from their wild counterparts that still attack humans.

Columbin in the wild came in a variety of colors, much like hibiscus flowers.

Each faction often adopted a specific color as a form of identification, though in practice, the vests attached to the birds served as the true marker.

"Oh, Flammy, did Jade send another weird order?"

Kilian clicked his tongue as he reached for the small vest and pulled out the message tucked inside. His eyes scanned it quickly.

"I see. So that’s how it is." He glanced at Gideon.

"Jade will be late today. She needs more time to prepare for winter, and honestly, you should do the same."

"It’s fine. I already talked with Aria about how traveler groups usually survive winter," Gideon replied.

Most of what he needed could be purchased from the system anyway.

Speaking of the system, the Safe Zone shop still had not opened, even though the population had already passed fifty residents.

"Maybe two more. Or seven. The system did seem to like clean numbers ending in zero or five.’

From what Aria had explained, most groups either migrated to settlements like Climber Rift or Edelweiss Town, or they relied on maintaining a steady heat source.

The real danger was a phenomenon known as the Eternal Snow, a violent surge of subzero temperatures that swept rapidly across the land.

It moved like a living thing, freezing everything in its path before continuing onward.

The natural counter was fire, but not an ordinary one. It had to come from aberrant cores.

When destroyed, these cores released a liquid that could be used as fuel. Many factions, including the Freebound, relied on it for electricity and to power their vehicles.

For resisting the effects of the Eternal Snow, cores below C-rank were sufficient, which was not a problem for Gideon.

The real issue was the storm’s unpredictability. No one could accurately forecast it due to the lack of advanced technology.

On top of that, aberrants became more aggressive and numerous during winter, making any attempt to hunt outside far more dangerous.

Water could also become a problem if sources froze over, though that was still manageable.

Food supplies, however, were a different matter entirely. Still, Gideon had the system, and he intended to rely on it when necessary.

Clothing was another concern, especially since they had lost most of their belongings.

"Winter really did sound worse than any other season."

"You’re not wrong. Most people can’t do anything. Outside is too dangerous, and staying inside gets... suffocating. The number of suicides rises every year."

His voice dropped further. "And then there’s the phenomenon people call the ’Calling’ and the ’Whips.’"

Gideon frowned, his brows drawing together. "What is that? I’ve never heard of it."

"Basically, ghosts are calling you toward your death. It becomes more noticeable when the Eternal Snow comes."

Kilian shrugged lightly. "If the old world had Halloween, we have the White Caller."

"Festivals?"

"Yeah." Kilian gave a small grin. "You’ll see."

Gideon chuckled under his breath. Even in a world that had once been more advanced than his own, people still clung to ghost stories.

***

Gideon spent the entire afternoon helping with construction. From the ground, it was easy to see just how precise and efficient William’s orders were. Everything moved strictly, each task flowing into the next.

And that was exactly why the workers hated him.

William never let anything slide. His eyes tracked everything like a hawk, catching even the smallest delay. No one could slack off under him, not even for a moment.

On the other hand, the workers from Gideon’s side, the residents, followed every order from William or Grant without complaint. If anything, they worked even harder.

This wasn’t just another job for them. The apartment they were building would become their shelter during winter, their home. That alone was enough to push them forward.

Still, the tension had been building since this project started, stretched thin and ready to snap.

It finally broke when one of the men from Grant’s side ripped off his helmet and slammed it against the ground.

"Argh! I’m done! I can’t take this shit anymore! It’s hot, it’s exhausting, and you don’t give us a second to breathe! We’re not your damn machines!"

Murmurs rose, then voices, then shouting. One complaint turned into many, and within seconds the entire group was in an uproar.

William reacted immediately, stepping forward without hesitation. Any disruption meant lost time, and he wasn’t about to allow that.

Gideon stayed where he was, watching closely. Grant, on the other hand, didn’t move at all. He simply stood across Gideon, as if he had no intention of stepping in.

"What do you mean?" William adjusted his glasses, his voice calm and even.

"I gave you one hour for lunch, extra time for breakfast, and regular breaks. You are working eight hours a day. That is within standard conditions. What exactly is the issue?"

Even with dozens of hostile eyes locked onto him, he didn’t flinch. Maybe reasoning them with logic would work, but unfortunately, those men were as angry and fed up as beasts.

"The issue?" one of the workers barked. "You keep piling more shit on us the second we finish something! We can’t even sit down for five damn minutes! The only way to rest is hiding in the toilet like we’re dodging a guard!"

"I see." William exhaled quietly. "So you’ve been wasting time instead of working properly. That explains the delays."

That was it, it was enough to raise the tension until it exploded.

"Delays?!" another man snapped. "You’ve been squeezing us dry all day, and you still talk like that? You think we’re your slaves or what?"

Before William could respond, one of Gideon’s residents stepped forward.

"Don’t twist it," he shot back. "You’re the ones slacking off and dumping your hardest work on us. We’ve been fixing your mess all day."

"Yeah," another added, his voice sharp. "We took the same job, but you keep acting like you’re above it. Calling us useless, then leaving your garbage behind for us to clean up."

"Keep running your mouths," someone from the other side sneered. "You look like broke strays who got lucky and found a place to squat, and now you’re acting like you own the ground you stand on."

"At least we earn our place," a resident fired back. "You lot just drag your feet and expect everyone else to carry you."

"You couldn’t even keep your own lives together, your families all died because of your weak ass bunch!"

Within seconds the argument turned into a full-blown clash between the two sides. Gideon let out a quiet breath, rubbing his temple. It was inevitable.

And Grant still wasn’t moving. That was when Gideon understood. It wasn’t that Grant couldn’t control his men. He simply didn’t want to.

"Yeah, that’s right, keep barking," one of the workers spat, glaring at the residents. "This whole place is a joke. Looks like a dump, smells like one too, and you all act like it’s some kind of kingdom."

He spat on the ground. "Build it yourself if you’re so proud."

Then he kicked the half-finished framework.

Others followed immediately, shoving and tearing at the structure. The residents rushed forward to stop them, but they were outnumbered and outmatched.

Fists started flying. Boots slammed into ribs. The Freebound members tried to step in, but the fight had already spiraled out of control.

And through all of it, Grant laughed as if he found this fight amusing, maybe as payback since he clearly hated William.

That crosses all the lines for Gideon. He couldn’t stand still his residents being played out of this petty chaos because an old man didn’t like how a younger and more professional construction worker bossed him around.