My 100th Rebirth a day before the Apocalypse novel Chapter 786

Their eyes wandered in amazement, taking in every detail.

Noticing their wonder, Kisha smiled and added, "Aside from the farm itself, everything else you see is part of the illusion. It's always bright here—like an eternal morning—and time flows differently. Ten hours in here is equivalent to just one hour in the outside world. That means you can get more work done, rest properly, and still return outside as if hardly any time has passed."

After hearing Kisha's explanation, everyone glanced around, taking in the sight of the lush, vibrant crops. The air was cool and crisp, yet every breath they took seemed to fill them with warmth and energy. It was as if the atmosphere itself was rejuvenating, making work feel less like a burden and more like a joy. There was a shared sense of awe and renewed strength among them.

"Woah! Leader," Hugo exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder. "So is this an extension of the farm we worked on outside?"

Kisha smiled and shook her head. "No, it's actually the other way around. That farm outside is just an extension of this one. In a sense, it's a front—a cover to show where our food comes from, while keeping the real farm hidden and protected."

Realization settled over them. Many had seen how the wealthy often hid their true sources of income to avoid government oversight and paying higher taxes. As laborers who had witnessed all kinds of schemes, it wasn't hard for them to understand the strategy. But this time, Kisha's intentions were different. She wasn't hiding the farm to hoard wealth or avoid obligations—she was doing it to protect their lifeline.

In a world where resources were becoming increasingly scarce, especially fresh produce, secrecy was a form of defense. If word got out about a hidden farm brimming with vibrant crops and hundreds—if not thousands—of healthy livestock, it would attract the wrong kind of attention. Greed would follow, and with it, danger.

These days, even a full meal was a luxury. So standing here, surrounded by abundant crops and the promise of stability, everyone began to imagine the kind of life they could live with access to resources like this. It stirred something in them—a mix of hope and determination.

One by one, they nodded to Kisha, silently expressing their understanding and agreement. They knew the value of keeping quiet and doing their part. It was nothing new to them; they'd done it all their lives.

The only difference now was that their circumstances had changed—Kisha wasn't a harsh leader. She treated them with trust, allowing them the freedom to come and go, to work when they wanted and rest when they needed. That simple respect meant everything.

Seeing more people entering the territory, Marcus couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement as he slowly approached Kisha. "Young Madam, are they going to be working here?" he asked, his eyes subtly scanning the newcomers.

He didn't need much time to size them up—years of experience had sharpened his instincts. It was obvious that Hugo and his group were laborers, not fighters. Their sun-darkened skin, thick muscles built from hard, physical work, and calloused hands told a story no weapons could.

Their faces were worn from years of labor, not battle. There was a clear difference between those hardened by combat and those shaped by daily toil—subtle, but unmistakable.

Even though Hugo and his crew looked a little gaunt from the weeks of hunger they endured while stuck in Port City, their strength hadn't completely faded. The muscle built from years of labor wouldn't vanish in just a few weeks of starvation.