It was another familiar trip. This time, they carried fewer supplies and completed the interstellar journey in just 10 minutes at full speed.
Back at the village, the soldiers were busy building—cutting down trees and putting up houses. China had plans to set up a supply base here, even though Zhang Dong had reported that this planet wasn't safe.
But when the commander asked what Kid was doing, Zhang Dong said he was actively engaging with the locals. So the commander gave the green light for construction. Zhang Dong didn't understand why the higher-ups were making such a rushed decision, but he wasn't about to disobey orders. Construction moved forward steadily. It was basic, but anything that could provide shelter from wind and rain would do. The planet was too far from Earth, so transporting building materials wasn't practical—it made more sense to use whatever they had around.
The village had already been divided up with clear boundaries, since the American and Russian soldiers had landed too. Each nation marked its own turf with flags hanging outside their respective huts.
This wasn't the United Nations Defense Bureau. It was a Chinese-led multinational exploration team. Each country operated independently. China stuck to its own, and others followed their own leaders. Once things stabilized, these divisions became even more obvious.
The last to arrive were the mixed teams. Their position was awkward—fewer numbers meant weaker national backing. But if they tried to cozy up to one side, they wouldn't be welcome either. In the end, they got lumped into a chaotic shared dorm.
The locals had already left, except for Tora. This was his home, after all. He had made a makeshift grave for his older brother and sister-in-law, then firmly requested to join Zhang Dong's unit. Zhang Dong didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Since there wasn't even a uniform for Tora, he let him join as an unofficial member. During daily training, Tora joined in and slowly picked things up.
All in all, the little village had gotten lively. Each country set up its own radio station, reporting daily to their home governments. Operations were decentralized. The U.S. and Russia looked like they were prepping for a forest expedition. China focused on building its base. Britain and France seemed interested in exploring too, but couldn't make up their minds. And the mixed squad? Totally lost. They had no clue what they were even supposed to be doing.
Houses went up, gardens were planted, and Zhang Dong kept to his daily schedule. The American squad, though, looked way cooler—constantly doing live-fire drills like they were ready to storm the jungle at any moment.
Under double gravity, bullet trajectories changed. Training was a must.
Kid didn't care what the others were up to. He clipped the translator onto the ear of the Claymore girls. "Alright, now you can understand our language. And we can understand yours."
The Claymore girls, rocking their Bluetooth earpieces, instantly outclassed the American soldiers in style.
Even though only one side wore the device, the effect was mutual. Kryptonian tech—reliable as ever. Liu A'dou figured this thing needed mass production. It was way too useful.
Before Kid left, Irene explained everything about Ophelia's death and resurrection. Hard to accept, but it was the truth. Plus, Ophelia was no longer an Awakened, or even a Claymore.
Ophelia now looked after Irene, who had lost both her arms. At the same time, they kept an eye on everything happening around the village.
They noticed that the newcomers from the sky weren't exactly united either. Everyone belonged to different groups, and the relationships were clearly complicated.
"Thanks for everything you've done for us. Now that we can talk, I think I'm ready to Start working," Irene said, ever professional.
"I'm good too," Ophelia added. She knew Kid had brought her back to life to find a guide.
No surprise there. Even if they'd turned against their organization, those raised as Claymores still had an impeccable sense of duty.
"Great. Your first job is to take us shopping."
Kid had each team send one person to tag along—it was a good chance to get a look at the culture and life on this new planet.
A six-wheeled off-road vehicle rumbled down the road, everyone inside bracing against the constant jolts and bumps.
Ophelia looked pale. She was carsick. The last time she'd ridden in any sort of vehicle was the organization's horse-drawn carriage, and that was years ago. Since then, she'd been crossing the Continent of Experiment on foot. Carriages were way smoother than off-roaders. Clutching the handle with her only arm, she tried to endure.
Irene, with no arms, was strapped to her seat by the seatbelt.
After about 1 hour, Ophelia finally couldn't take it anymore and threw up. Her insides felt twisted upside down—definitely not how a Claymore was supposed to look. Fortunately, they had just arrived at the nearest town. Everyone could see the city walls ahead.
On the Continent of Experiment, any major human settlement had protective walls. They didn't do much against yoma, but they gave people peace of mind.
The red brick walls were held together with white mortar. There were no guards at the gate—anyone could enter. Apart from the Holy City, humanity had no standing military. The Holy City's guard was the only formal human army on this continent, and also the only human force with any real combat ability.
The streets were lively. Merchants were selling daily necessities and food. For a place plagued by yoma, this town was fairly bustling. In most other places, 9 out of 10 homes were abandoned due to yoma attacks.
"This is the nearest southern town. Any farther south, and you're in the territory of the Southern Abyss—Luciela's domain. All yoma and Awakened ones from there on," Irene explained.
"We'll split into three teams. Tora leads one, Ophelia takes another, and the last one goes with Irene. We meet back here at the gate in two hours."
Ophelia and Irene both put on baseball caps brought by Earth soldiers to hide their hair, then set off with their squads. Tora led one group away. Kid stayed back alone.
They all wore exploration uniforms with weapons at their waists. None of them cared about the surprised looks from the locals. People here were known for avoiding trouble—never asking questions they shouldn't, never looking at what they shouldn't see.
Some vendors outright refused to deal with strangers, but those were the minority. Kid's outfit was even more unusual, and the townspeople made way for him like they would for a Claymore.
Kid made his way to the town square, where a statue of the goddesses who blessed this land—the Twin Goddesses—stood in the center. Almost every town had one. The two goddesses stood back to back, each with one wing extended, both bowed in prayer.
"Such beautiful yuri girls," Kid muttered shamelessly, turning two pure deities into a lesbian fantasy. But when he saw the nervous faces around him, he couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for them.
These people weren't afraid of getting eaten by a yoma themselves—they were scared one might appear nearby. They didn't trust anyone. Even the Claymores, who protected them, were viewed with suspicion. In truth, they could doubt anyone, but they should never doubt the Claymores. Claymores were half-yoma, not full yoma. They didn't eat people.
This was a place where trust didn't exist. Kid figured even if they managed to cure a yoma with some kind of antidote, the locals still wouldn't accept them. They'd grown up this way—each person looking out for their own doorstep. Because when a yoma transformed, it was usually the family that suffered first.
So it made sense that people lacked trust and security. If you couldn't even trust your own kin, how could you trust outsiders?
It was tragic and pathetic.