OBS Chapter 299 Clan Mother
Chapter 299 Clan Mother
On the hillock-like garbage throne, there were many pits on the leather layer covering the surface, which was slightly softer than the garbage.
The pits vary in size and get larger closer to the edge.
Howard estimated that the large pit could accommodate a golden retriever or a husky, while the small pit could only serve as a nest for a Chihuahua.
These pits were obviously used to place something, but the pits Howard saw outside the Junk Throne were empty. While Howard was thinking, he saw a person who did not belong to their team, standing on the Junk Throne.
Judging from her sexual characteristics, she was a woman. She was covered with more rags, much better than those under the garbage throne.
What surprised Howard the most was that she was holding a bowl in her hand, and the bowl was filled with a turbid paste of a strange color.
The woman did not react at all to the arrival of Howard and others. She stood silently aside, waiting for Howard and his group to pass by, and then continued to do her work.
Out of curiosity, Howard followed the woman and saw her walk to an inconspicuous pit, scoop out a spoonful of paste with a spoon, and feed it into the mouth of a baby lying in the pit.
Howard suddenly understood what these pits were used for.
"This is our nursery," Nakhimov said, introducing Howard. "All newborn babies are sent here because it's the most comfortable and safest place. There are dedicated people to take care of them, and they're given priority for food. When I'm free, I also like to come here and play with the babies."
Sure enough, during his subsequent climb to the top of the Junk Throne, Howard saw more and more babies emerging from the pits. Howard had no experience in taking care of babies, so he couldn't tell the ages of these babies, but the smallest baby was only as big as three of Howard's fists put together, while the oldest child was as long as Howard's forearm to the end of his fingers.
Some of these babies still had some baby fat on their bodies, some were so thin that you could see their ribs, and some were even more frightening. They were severely edematous, with their swollen faces so tight that they couldn't even open their eyes.
But no matter whether they were big or small, fat or thin, healthy or sick, none of these babies cried.
Howard had read some psychology books that said that although humans do not have any memories during infancy, it is a critical period for the formation of personality.
Babies at this stage are psychologically omnipotent and narcissistic, and need the care and love of their loved ones to nourish them.
But if their cries are not responded to and their demands are not met, they will think that they are the only one in the world, and then they will not cry or make a fuss, just like what Howard saw.
We cry to get our mother's care, but if no one cares about us no matter how much we cry, then there is no point in crying.
Children who grow up in such an environment will have more or less mental illness when they grow up.
Although his mind told him that now was not the time to care about these things, Howard still felt very sad.
He looked at Nakhimov, who was as cheerful as a little bird. It was a remarkable achievement for this child to grow up like this in such an environment.
Soon Howard and the others reached the top of the Junk Throne, where the fabric and leather were thicker and softer than anywhere else before.
First, Howard saw a big pot. This pot used electricity instead of open fire to cook. The pot was half as high as Howard's body. Food and grease residues, as well as unknown milky yellow fungi, hung out of the edge of the pot like stalagmites.
Since Howard had seen his father's soup pot before, the miserable sight outside the pot did not scare him. Instead, he held his breath and stuck his head out to see what was cooking inside the pot.
Inside the cauldron was a paste of food that was yellow, black and brown. Howard couldn't tell what was in the cauldron, but he could see animal skin with bristles, bones that had changed color, and some lumpy fungi.
This pot of paste is as thick as magma. When a bubble rises from the bottom of the pot, the surface will slowly bulge and then slowly burst. The depression left after the bubble bursts will take a long time to disappear.
Howard thought again of the bowl in the woman's hand that he had just seen. The porridge in it probably came from this pot.
A woman was kneeling beside a cauldron, with two fully armed guards standing beside her.
This must be the "Mother of the Clan" that Nakhimov mentioned. She is the leader of all the slaves in this slave labor family and the leader of the rebellion against the Governor and the Mechanical Sage.
The clan mother looked like a middle-aged woman. Although her figure was still extremely thin in Howard's eyes, compared with the injured and sick people in this space, she could be considered "plump".
She wore a necklace made of unknown bones and teeth around her neck, and layers of tattered cloth around her waist. She had undergone strange mechanical modifications, and her mechanical right hand was abnormal, obviously an improvement made for heavy physical labor.
However, this mother still has one breast that retains the original human tissue, but it has long been shriveled, like a raisin hanging on her chest.
As the mother of the tribe who takes care of the children, she obviously often feeds these babies herself. However, due to lack of nutrition or age, her breasts can no longer produce even a drop of breast milk. But how can these young children understand this? They still continue to suck based on instinct.
At this time, she was holding a child in her arms, and the child's condition was obviously worse. Her eyes were closed and her body was red. Her body was covered with scars similar to hives. She was breathing very hard, and every time she breathed in and out, there was a wheezing sound, as if a foreign object was blocking her trachea.
"Mom, mom, mom, mom!" Seeing her clan mother, Nakhimov excitedly patted the nun's shoulder armor with her hands. This was not the first time she did it. It seemed that the nun's shoulder armor had become something like a drum in her eyes.
"We're back, we're back!" Nakhimov clapped his hands and shouted, "I even kidnapped...invited a nobleman back! Mom, mom! Now you have the leverage to negotiate with those pesky guys!"
However, Howard's attention was attracted by the child who was in very poor condition. He pushed aside the people in front of him and wanted to go up to check on the child's condition, but was stopped by the guards beside the clan mother.
"Don't stop me! Let me pass! Maybe I can help!" Howard, who was stopped by the guard, pulled the other's hand and shouted loudly, hoping that the so-called clan mother could hear what he said clearly.
But the clan mother still didn't respond.
"Mom?" Nakhimov also noticed that something was wrong with his mother, so he asked tentatively, "Mom, why don't you say anything?"
Then the tribeswoman finally raised her head, and Howard said inwardly, "Uh oh."
Because he saw anger and hatred in the eyes of this tribe mother.
Sure enough, the next second, the clan mother issued a clear order:
"Kill them all! Don't let any of them escape!"