Death Valley.
On the outpost made of B2-level alloy, two six-man teams alternated shifts, not only to defend against outsiders entering the Death Valley but also to drive away the wandering monsters. They couldn't slack for a moment, which made the defending teams complain incessantly.
"Eva, how long do you think our garrison duty will last this time?" A middle-aged Sub-demon Race man in B6-level battle armor asked while munching on synthetic food, looking at another Sub-demon Race female captain who came to relieve the shift. "This place is even harsher than the frontlines. Not having a decent place to rest is one thing, but there's no chance for side earnings either; all we can do is watch those miners dig all day."
