Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 470: Change in SIlverdale.

Sunshine had inspected many places and many things. It was her first tome inspecting the farms in Silverdale town. Just as eighty percent of Busker was farmland, she intended to do the same with Silverdale. A lot of work was going on in the town. She noticed this immediately upon arrival.

The town was half as ordinary as could be in an apocalypse and the half, extraordinary. On one side, ordinary animals went about their existence. On the other, things got..... stranger.

Like the horse with six legs which could gallop in circles and a goat with glowing eyes that kept trying to hypnotize the chicken.

The Cows mowed from the western paddocks that made sounds which seemed close to singing. Pigs that argued loudly over nothing in particular and huge chickens that scattered underfoot like they owned the land. Somewhere in the distance a mutated boar let out a sound that was half-bleat, half-threat, causing two workers to pause, look at each other, and silently agree to walk the other way.

The farms stretched far beyond what Sunshine remembered, divided cleanly into zones_ open, peaceful fields for normal animals to feed. Heavily reinforced enclosures humming faintly with suppression grids for the mutated ones.

Sunshine smiled at a sign that been glued to a gate leading to the mutated animal zone: Don’t underestimate the mutated ones. They’re clever and hard to sedate.

She was about to push the gate open when she saw Marjorie and Billie Gooding walking toward her, waving her down like she might disappear if they didn’t grab her attention fast enough.

"I was wondering when you would get here." Marjorie said brightly, checking her phone for the time. "And you are late; you said that you would be here early in the morning. As the overseer of the farm, I must be on time for everything. If I am late for even a second, we end up with goats hypnotizing workers to let them out so that they can wreak havoc. Havoc that takes up supplies to fix. Supplies that Ariel Quinn makes me write a detailed plan for before handing them over."

Sunshine let out an amused half chuckle. "I am sorry to keep you waiting but something more urgent came up, but I am not that late."

"You are compared to my schedule." Marjorie insisted. She did not care to appease Sunshine just because she was the leader of the base. Majorie cared about the animals and her schedule more.

Billie gave Sunshine a friendly grin and a nod. "She’s been up since dawn. The mutated hyenas were making a fuss. Again. Only three of them here but they need thirteen people to keep an eye on them."

As they walked, it became obvious who was in charge. Workers deferred to Marjorie without thinking, calling out numbers, asking questions, waiting for her nod before moving on.

She answered effortlessly, correcting mistakes mid-step, adjusting plans on the fly. When a handler hesitated near a feeding line, Marjorie didn’t raise her voice_ she just glanced over. "That gate isn’t latched properly. If the mutated goats figure it out before you do, they’ll unionize," she said, deadpan.

The handler flushed, fixed it instantly, and Sunshine caught herself smiling. Seventeen years old, she thought, and running this place like she’d been born doing it.

The girl had been the right choice as person in charge. She did not tolerate nonsense, and she was great at handling people. She was obviously not new to leadership.

Billie stayed close, carrying equipment, backing her up quietly. He was clearly trusted_ but the decisions were Marjorie’s. No shadow leadership here. Just competence.

They toured the normal farms first, and Marjorie rattled off numbers like they were song lyrics. One thousand eight hundred and forty cattle across four rotational fields. The normal ones are polite. The mutated ones like to beg when you want to milk them.

They don’t like milking machines. Workers have to do it in person by hand. Some cows like to spray us with their milk when we come too close to their calves."

Sunshine tapped the fence. It was solid. They moved on.

"Two thousand three hundred goats_ " Majorie continued when they came to the mutated goat housing area. "Don’t ask why we have so many, they multiply very abnormally. One female goat gives birth to no less than ten kids. The highest recorded so far is sixteen in one birth. At this rate, they will be taking over the world soon."

Sunshine smirked. Not if her shop had anything to say about it. Or the humans here. Mutated goat meat was becoming a favorite.

One goat bleated louder than others and she looked at it. Its eyes glowed like twin lanterns. Sunshine stared for a moment and shook her head.

Majorie sprayed a calming mist in the air. "That’s Quincy, he tries to hypnotize all the newcomers."

Next door were the sheep. "One thousand one hundred. As long as we keep the lullabies on and keep them well fed, they are good fellas. But they stomped an ordinary herding dog to death, so we are considering using mutated herding dogs for the job. Our worry is that one might eat the other."

Then, they moved to the chickens. One pecked Sunshine’s boot. A little chick kicked a stone at her. The rest followed, treating it like a game.

Majorie winced. "I will be honest, the chicken are annoying. With all the hunts lately, we have four thousand six hundred chickens. They like to peck the workers for everything and nothing. Some are assholes, like Jekyll over there." She pointed at a rooster the size of a motorcycle. "He practices his morning crow at midnight."

Jekyll kept his eyes closed like a tired coal miner who had worked a long night shift.

The mutated pigs were next. They were oddly clean. Too clean. Their living area smelled like iris flowers and petunias. Workers walked into the area in their overalls, carrying hanging baskets of petunias and scented candles.

Majorie sighed. "We are almost out of scented candles." She looked at Sunshine. "Perhaps you could ask Ariel Quinn to send us a yearly supply instead of a weekly one. I am tired of writing reports."

Sunshine chuckled. "I will take of it personally." She gestured at the pigs. "Are they all clean like this?"

Majorie shrugged. "In the beginning they were clean...but cat clean. Not....whatever insanity this is. But after ordinary pigs started arriving, things changed. The mutated ones find the ordinary ones disgusting because they like to roll around in mud and act like buffoons. If they meet each other, the mutated kill the ordinary. So, we keep them as far apart as possible."

As they walked on, Majorie explained the peculiarities of the mutated ones.

Suddenly, a loud COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO! shook a chicken barn. Everyone turned their heads in that direction.

Marjorie’s radio crackled. "Marge, we have a new mutated rooster. This one is bigger than my jeep. And it’s got the look of death in its eyes." A woman reported.

"And I trust you will teach him to fall in line like the rest aunt Mabel." Majorie replied. "Call me in if you fail."

Sunshine took a step in the direction of the barns.

Majorie stopped her, shaking her head. "They must learn to deal with these things on their own. We cannot always call you in when something mutates or attempts to escape. You have your job, we have ours."