Malin sat on the handcar, and two men were working it to make it return to the real camp a bit faster. This section of the track is located between two stations, so the distance is somewhat far, but to Malin, this completely enclosed tunnel was lined with purple light lamps to prevent ghost invasions. These survivors had enough power, so the lights stayed on, illuminating this tunnel and providing a sense of safety for the residents here. Bill and his group weren’t so lucky, as they needed to walk back. However, Malin had already set coordinates to pin them down, so he wasn’t afraid they would disappear. And this old man who called himself Jack kept tirelessly introducing their camp to Malin along the way. As the old man put it, Stafford Camp is already the safest camp in the Washington area. Survivors can even go onto the surface without protective suits to hunt or fish, as long as those pesky ghosts don’t come out to cause trouble; that would be the best. It’s just a pity that these ghosts are everywhere. They are the most common monsters, and compared to other more difficult creatures, their advantage lies in their numbers and strength. Their strength is among the top of the monsters known to the camp, and although their bodies still fear bullets, their numbers more than make up for their vulnerability. Bill and his group were previously chased into the sewers by these ghosts. However, interestingly enough, for some reason, the ghosts never chase humans into the sewers. Perhaps it’s because they know that in a place with such limited space for movement, humans can use their weapons to quickly kill them. "You’re hunting venison for the Camp Master, right?" Malin interrupted the old man’s boasting about his camp and asked a straightforward question. "Yes, for the Camp Master, may he live long." The old man mentioned the Camp Master and appeared very devoted, showing no signs of deception. Interesting, Malin thought, he was a bit eager to meet this Camp Master. "By the way, you said there are many camps in the Washington area, can you tell me about them?" Malin said, pulling out a few pieces of jerky to share with the three guys. Upon hearing that the guest wanted to hear about such things, old Jack didn’t hesitate. After all, Malin thought that the fact he didn’t start slaughtering everything upon arrival already showed his intentions. Moreover, when the old man first saw Malin’s true form, he had already taken big steps towards the abyss of mutation; if not for Malin pulling him back, the owner of the name Jack might have been the main attraction at a funeral. Well, if there were funerals anymore. While making this remark, Malin leaned back on his hands, listening as old Jack, who had put away the jerky, started talking about the camps in the Washington area. He couldn’t explain things from the past clearly, only recalling that his parents had said that after the Great Destruction came, those citizens who couldn’t escape were relocated by the military to the subway stations. Survivors used the various pre-destruction machinery to establish numerous camps within the subway network. Many camps were destroyed by the monsters that flooded into the subway, but many more camps survived. Hundreds of years ago, people in these camps had never even seen the sky; they only knew the sky as a concept. When explorers landed on the surface, they found that this world was just as dangerous, with various unseen monsters capable of easily killing them. Any attempts to establish outposts on the surface failed, and people eventually returned to the camps, back to their crowded but safe homes. Yet explorers continued to explore their once homeland, and their efforts brought back many good things, including power cores that could restart the old-era machinery that had lost their energy. Under the protection of the core zone guarded by the Camp Master, a large new camp supervised by the Eternal Lord was being established. Old Jack also mentioned the core zone, spoke about all Camp Masters guarding the core zone, and mentioned the Lord of Eternity. "Is the Lord of Eternity a Deity?" Malin asked curiously. "I’ve never seen him, or rather, people like us have no privilege to make a pilgrimage. The Lord of Eternity is said to have been watching over all this since before the Great Destruction for the people of that time; only when the Camp Master’s power is transferred does the new Camp Master get to meet him." As old Jack said this, Malin was already able to hear the noise of human presence, and the strong man working the car said flatteringly, "Sir, we’ve arrived at our camp." So Malin stood up, brushed off nonexistent ashes, and saw an Underground City bustling with life, a small city only three stories tall with many little tin houses having just two floors. On the track side of the car, several men dressed in black stood there; the middle-aged one leading them had a seven-point resemblance to old Jack. Malin squinted and realized that the youngster was indeed Jack’s son. Then he raised a hand to this youngster, otherwise, he was afraid he would soon grow horns. While on the other side of the track, the camp’s survivors stood crowded. They eyed Malin, either whispering or murmuring. As the handcar stopped, Malin stood there, and old Jack, who likened himself to an old dog of around seventy years, in Malin’s eyes, leaped across the gap between the car and platform to embrace his slightly startled son: "Robinson, my eldest son, you felt the pressure this old dog of yours was under earlier, right?"