Chapter 6 — I Built an Empire in the Wasteland

The location they chose was located about four hundred meters from the shelter, on the foundation of a low-rise building that had half collapsed but the other half was still standing, the walls were thick with pre-war reinforced concrete, and there was a small basement that could be converted into a permanent shelter. This location is hidden behind several layers of towering rubble, difficult to detect from afar, but still close enough to the bunker to easily move supplies and technology.

Bạt Phong used powered armor to carry heavy concrete and metal panels, rebuild the collapsed wall, and reinforce the door with a thick steel plate taken from a side hatch in the warehouse. Yên Nhi, although her physical strength had not yet fully recovered, proved extremely helpful in designing the defense layout — she showed him how to place the old motion sensors left in the bunker in hidden corners, how to arrange backup escape routes, and how to utilize the surrounding ruined terrain to create an early warning perimeter.

"How do you know these things so well?" Bạt Phong asked while attaching a small sensor to the door frame, unable to hide his curiosity.

Yên Nhi sat on a nearby concrete block, disassembling an old communication device to check the internal components, moving fluently like a skilled technician. "I don't know," she replied, without stopping. "It's as if someone taught me these things a long time ago, but I can't remember that person's face or voice anymore. Only the knowledge remains, floating somewhere in my head."

After nearly a week of non-stop work, the small shelter gradually took shape — a main room spacious enough to accommodate a few people, a simple kitchen corner, a small warehouse to store supplies brought in from the shelter in small batches to avoid attracting attention, and an early warning system surrounding the area. Bạt Phong named this place Camp Dawn, a name that came about when he saw the first rays of light on a rare morning where the dust clouds were thinner than usual, revealing a pale orange halo on the horizon.

"Breaking Dawn?" Yên Nhi repeated the name, smiling slightly - the first smile Bạt Phong had seen fully on her face since the day he saved her from the cylinder. "Sounds good. Like a promise."

"I just thought," Bạt Phong scratched his head, a bit embarrassed at being complimented, "after seven years of only seeing gray skies, having a name that brings a little light isn't bad."

The day the camp was basically completed, the two discovered a shadow of a person loitering near the ruined area not far away - a skinny old man, wearing ragged clothes, trying to rummage through the rubble to find something to eat. Bạt Phong intended to ignore it as is common survival habit in Phế Thổ, where everyone has to take care of themselves, but Yên Nhi pulled his sleeve.

"We should help him," she said, her eyes determined. "He looks like he's been hungry for days."

Bạt Phong hesitated. "If we start helping strangers, word can spread, people will know we're here."

"But if we don't help," Yên Nhi replied, her voice small but firm, "then we are no different from those who left me in the dark for seven years." Her words made Bạt Phong speechless. He looked at her for a moment, then nodded, stepped out of his hiding place and walked towards the old man. The man jumped back in surprise, his hands raised as if preparing to fight back, his eyes filled with caution of someone who had survived for too long in a world without kindness.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Bạt Phong said, raising his two empty hands. "We have some food, if you need it."

The old man - they later learned that his name was Tư Rỗ, nicknamed from the indented scar on his left cheek left by a piece of artillery shell during the war - looked at Bạt Phong inquisitively for a long time, then slowly lowered his hand, his eyes still suspicious but hunger overcame his vigilance. Bạt Phong took him back to Camp Dawn, gave him his first full meal in an unknown amount of time, and while eating, the old man recounted his life - he used to be a mechanic at a large repair shop in the city before the war, his wife and children all died in the Great War, from then on he lived wandering around the Wasteland, with no place left to call home.

"You can stay here, if you want," Bạt Phong said, surprised by his own suggestion. "We are in need of people who know how to repair machines." Tư Rỗ looked up at him, his old eyes filled with tears, perhaps no one had said such words to him for a long time. "You... aren't you afraid that I'm a burden?"

"Everyone has been someone's burden, at one time or another," Yên Nhi interjected, her voice gentle. "The important thing is what we can do for each other afterward."

News about Camp Dawn - even though Bạt Phong tried to keep it a secret - still inevitably spread through small channels that no one could control. A few days after Tư Rỗ settled in, a middle-aged woman named Sáu Mộc, who had been a cook at a small restaurant before the war, came after hearing a rumor from a trader in the Black Market that there was a shelter "for those who have nowhere else to go". She brought some old seeds left over, hoping to grow something if the land around here was safe enough.

Bạt Phong accepted her into the camp after some consideration, although he was still a little worried about controlling the number of people who knew about this place. But looking at the way Sáu Mộc quickly started cleaning up the corner of the kitchen, cooking a pot of thin porridge from the little food they had, dividing it equally among the group, he realized one thing: a shelter not only needs strong walls and good weapons, but also needs people who know how to take care of each other so that it can truly become a home, not just a cold fortress.

Tư Rỗ, after the first full meal, regained some of the vitality of a skilled mechanic in the past. He rolled up his sleeves and walked around Camp Dawn, tapping on every wall, looking at every weld that Bạt Phong had hastily reinforced a few days ago.

"You did quite well, with such primitive tools." He commented, his voice a bit appreciative. "But this place," he pointed to a corner of the wall near the door, "if someone used a crowbar to pry it open, it would collapse in a few minutes. Let me see if I can reinforce it, just add a few horizontal braces."

"Do you know how to do it?" Bạt Phong asked, somewhat surprised.

"You forgot I worked as a mechanic in a big factory all my life." Tư Rỗ laughed, the first smile since he appeared at Camp Dawn. "As long as I have the tools, I can help you with many other things. That old generator you took out of the basement and left it out there, let me take a look, maybe I can fix it."

Sáu Mộc cleaned the corner of the kitchen while listening to the story, occasionally interjecting a few comments on how to arrange the cooking area so that smoke does not gather in a closed room. She also told the story of her small restaurant in the past, where she used to cook for the whole neighborhood every holiday. Her voice sank when mentioning the regular customers who no longer survived the Great War.

"Cooking for many people is my joy," she said, still quickly washing the chipped bowls she picked up from the nearby rubble. "Here, at least I have someone to cook for."

Bạt Phong stood looking at that scene - an old mechanic discussing repairing a generator, a middle-aged woman in the corner of the kitchen - and felt something strangely warm rising in his heart, a feeling he had long forgotten since the day his family broke up. This was not simply a matter of gathering more people to increase defense power, but of gradually rekindling something like a real community, where everyone had a role, was needed.

That evening, as the four of them gathered around the rare pot of hot porridge in the cold Phế Thổ area, Bạt Phong looked around at the strange faces that he had not known just a few days ago, now sitting and eating a meal under the same roof. Yên Nhi sat next to him, her eyes were also watching that scene with an indescribable expression - perhaps a warmth that she had never experienced during her time in captivity.

"We're building something, right?" Yên Nhi asked softly, her voice almost whispering just enough for Bạt Phong to hear.

"YES." Bạt Phong nodded and looked at the small fire flickering among the group of people. "I'm not sure how big it will be. But at least, tonight, none of us will have to sleep hungry or afraid alone."

That night, for the first time since the Great War took away everything he had, Bạt Phong slept completely, without being startled awake in the middle of the night by nightmares or strange noises. Camp Dawn, though small and primitive, was beginning to become something more than a mere shelter — it was becoming the first home for many people who had nowhere else to call home.