The entire crew stared at Jax, their jaws practically hitting the dirt. They looked from the empty crater back to their Boss, completely bewildered by the impossible technique he had just pulled.
"Where are our Defense Towers?" Elena demanded, her voice tight with panic. "Where's the Bastion? Did the upgrade fail and vaporize everything?!"
Jax chuckled, tapping a finger against his temple. "Relax. Have you forgotten I'm a Psionic Awakener? I didn't vaporize anything. I just stored the entire base right here in my mental space."
Elena blinked, the panic draining from her face, replaced instantly by intense irritation. "Are you kidding me? You could have led with that! I thought we were about to be eaten by giant bugs with zero cover!"
"Alright, alright, my bad," Jax laughed, waving them toward the heavy transports. "Since we've packed up the house, it's time to head home. We're returning to The Sprawl."
A collective cheer went up from the crew. They had been dreaming of this moment for months. The brutal, nerve-wracking days of sleeping in the dirt and keeping watch for Insect Swarms were finally over.
The convoy rumbled to life, leaving Sector 33 behind as they charted a course for The Sprawl.
When they finally rolled through the city gates, Jax didn't waste any time. He personally escorted Gareth, Silas, and the rest of his core crew to the inner city.
Because they were his most trusted lieutenants, Jax had specifically mandated that their housing be prioritized during the construction of the City Lord's estate. Their new residences were located less than a kilometer from Jax's mansion—a short, heavily guarded walk.
When the crew saw their new homes, they nearly lost their minds. The multi-story luxury townhomes were a far cry from the cramped, rusted shipping containers they were used to. They cheered like children, sprinting through the front doors to claim the best bedrooms.
Jax watched them from the street, a genuine smile on his face. There was an old saying: When a man ascends to heaven, even his chickens and dogs get to come along. It was a bit crude, but it perfectly described the situation. He had risen to power, and he was making damn sure his people reaped the rewards.
With their housing sorted, it was time to assign them actual jobs. Jax dumped that administrative headache onto Director Quinn. The old man was an excellent judge of character and quickly slotted the crew into various high-level management positions within the city's infrastructure.
A few days passed. The crew settled into their new lives of luxury, and Jax threw himself back into the grueling task of managing The Sprawl's Defense Tower grid.
Upgrading the towers required the same baseline materials as before. However, with Hazel now managing 12 distinct, fully operational mining outposts—each yielding a maximum of 500 units of ore per day—raw material scarcity was no longer a pressing issue.
What kept Jax awake at night was the situation at Iron Mountain.
The Sprawl was expanding rapidly, but it was still in a highly vulnerable, resource-hungry phase. The most critical issue was the food deficit. Their daily consumption was vastly outpacing their localized production. As City Lord, the burden of preventing mass starvation fell squarely on Jax's shoulders, and the only way to secure bulk grain was to establish trade by gaining official sovereignty. To do that, he needed the rare ores from Iron Mountain to max out his defense grid.
Back in his office, Jax stared blankly at a fresh mountain of paperwork. He let out a long, exhausted groan, letting his head hit the desk with a dull thud.
"When does it end?" he muttered into the polished wood. "Being City Lord is a scam. I just want to take a nap."
Resigning himself to his fate, Jax picked up a pen and started grinding through the stack.
Near the very bottom of the pile, a familiar name caught his eye. Jax frowned, pulling the document free.
"Unbelievable," Jax growled, his annoyance flaring. "Why can't my clerks prioritize? They buried the most critical intel at the bottom of the stack!"
It was the latest dispatch from Sawyer. The expedition had struck gold at Iron Mountain. They had discovered multiple high-yield veins of Stardust Stone and Refined Iron. Sawyer was requesting immediate authorization and a dedicated labor force to begin mass extraction.
Jax grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and began writing his reply. He decided that while the city's internal development was stabilizing, he would personally lead the extraction crew to Iron Mountain to oversee the operation.
He handed the sealed letter to his assistant, his expression stern. "Listen to me very carefully. From now on, any dispatch bearing Sawyer's seal goes on top of the pile. Top, center, right in front of my face. Am I clear? If I have to dig for strategic military intel again, you're fired."
The assistant flushed bright red, nodding furiously. "Understood, City Lord! It won't happen again!"
After wrapping up the day's administrative hell, Jax returned to his estate. He had invited Gareth, Silas, and the core crew over for a private dinner.
They arrived in high spirits, still buzzing from their new lives of luxury. Their new homes were fully stocked with premium food, hot water, and clean clothes. They had even brought a few bottles of rare, pre-war liquor they had scavenged, intending to share them with the Boss.
However, when they stepped into Jax's private dining hall, their jaws dropped. Jax's liquor cabinet made theirs look like a back-alley moonshine stash.
"Boss," Gareth breathed, staring at the walls of top-shelf alcohol. "We thought we were living like kings, but this... this is a whole different reality."
"Yeah," Silas chuckled, shaking his head. "Makes me want to run for City Lord. Too bad I don't have the brains for it."
"You don't have the brains to tie your own shoes, Silas," another crew member joked. "You couldn't lead a parade, let alone a city of hundreds of thousands."
Jax smiled, pouring them all a generous glass. He let them laugh and joke, enjoying the rare moment of camaraderie. He knew he was about to ruin their night, and he wanted to soften the blow.
He was about to revoke their permanent luxury passes and hand them a one-month eviction notice.
After a massive, decadent feast, the crew collapsed onto the plush sofas in Jax's lounge, groaning happily.
Jax swirled the amber liquid in his glass, taking a slow sip. He cleared his throat. "So. How is everyone enjoying the accommodations?"
"It's heaven, Boss," Gareth sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions. "I've never seen a place this nice."
"Honestly, just having a hot shower running twenty-four-seven is a miracle," Silas added, his eyes half-closed. "It's everything I ever wanted."
Gareth cracked an eye open, looking at Jax suspiciously. "Why do you ask, Boss? You got that look on your face."
Jax's lips curled into a faint, apologetic smile. "I'm glad you like it. Because once you finish this next assignment, you'll have plenty of time to come back and enjoy it properly."
The room went dead silent.
"Wait, what?" Silas sat bolt upright, his relaxed demeanor vanishing. "Boss, what's going on? I've been sleeping in a real bed for less than twenty-four hours!"
"Yeah, Boss, isn't this a bit cruel?" another crew member whined. "Can't you let us soak in the tub for a few more days?"
"Stand down," Jax said, his voice taking on the commanding edge of a City Lord. "I brought you here because I have a critical mission, and you are the only men I trust to execute it."
Jax picked up a remote and hit a button. The lights dimmed, and a high-resolution projector hummed to life, casting a detailed map of the wasteland onto the far wall.
"Sawyer's expedition hit the jackpot at Iron Mountain," Jax explained, pointing to the glowing red markers on the map. "They found massive, untapped veins of Stardust Stone and Refined Iron. That territory is unclaimed, meaning we can strip-mine it to the bedrock. But we are on a clock. I need those ores to finalize the city's Defense Tower grid, and I need a hardened crew to run the extraction."
The crew's drunken, relaxed posture vanished instantly. They sat forward, their expressions hardening into the disciplined faces of wasteland veterans. They knew the stakes. The luxury of The Sprawl meant nothing if the city fell to an Insect Swarm or starved to death under an embargo.
"Here is the plan," Jax continued. "We roll out in three days. I am personally leading the convoy to Iron Mountain. We will be taking a wide detour around The Forgotten City to avoid any high-tier Swarm activity. It's a two-month deployment. One month of travel, and one month on-site. Your job is to take a batch of raw civilian recruits and forge them into a disciplined, high-yield mining crew."
Gareth nodded sharply. "Understood, Boss. We'll get it done."
Silas cracked his knuckles, a grim smile on his face. "Three days, huh? Well, in that case, I'm going to spend the next seventy-two hours straight in my hot tub. Let's drink up!"
The tension broke, and the crew burst into laughter, raising their glasses to toast the end of their extremely short vacation.