Carmine looked at the empty vial in her hand, then at the wounded soldier whose condition had clearly improved, and her gaze changed.
"Can I extract some more?" She turned to David, her tone pleading. "I won't take it for free."
David shook his head, but before the female medic could feel disappointed, he nodded again. "You can try extracting it yourself."
He gestured for Carmine to operate it herself.
Carmine found a tin bucket and walked over to Otis, who had calmed down slightly.
Without hesitation, she squatted down, held the bucket steadily beneath Otis's belly, and her fingers skillfully and precisely found the location and began milking rhythmically.
Her movements were skilled and precise, showing she clearly understood the relevant physiological structure.
"I didn't realize you knew how to do this?" David was somewhat surprised.
"Are you very surprised?" Carmine didn't lift her head, focusing on the movement of her hands, her voice calm and steady.
"As a qualified Military Doctor, I understand and master the physiological structures of most common organisms."
"Not just humans, but Lytlin, Ogryn... In the Military Medical Academy, my grades in the relevant courses never dropped out of the top three."
"Then being here is a bit of a waste of your talent."
Hearing this, Carmine's hand movements paused, followed by a short, self-deprecating laugh.
"When I first met Sergeant Victor, he praised me in much the same way."
She raised her head and glanced at the tall veteran's back, who was currently talking to Hans in the center of the camp. A complex look flashed in her eyes.
Carmine unconsciously increased the pressure she was applying to Otis, who let out a startled cry.
"Stubborn old fool, saying I'm here to pad my resume."
She imitated Victor's tone:
"My name is Victor, and I'm an old soldier. I'm a straightforward man who likes to speak the truth. When it comes down to it, people like you only come to the front lines just to add another entry to your service record."
The angrier Carmine got, the harder she squeezed. Otis began to shift its hooves restlessly, letting out protesting groans.
She realized her lapse in control, took a breath, and calmed down.
One minute passed.
Two minutes passed.
Three minutes passed.
Sweat beaded slightly on Carmine's forehead. She tried various pressures and angles, but the bucket remained completely empty; not a single drop of milk appeared.
David folded his arms, wearing an expression that said, 'I knew it.'
His ability to obtain beast milk relied on the rules of Minecraft.
"I'll do it," David said, waving his hand dismissively. "Bring me all the buckets in your base, and I'll fill them all up for you at once."
Carmine was still immersed in self-doubt about her milking technique. Hearing David's words, she brought over a dozen huge tin barrels, each as tall as a person.
"These are the barrels used for transporting purified water," Carmine explained.
David looked at the setup, stretched his wrists, rotated his neck, and cast his gaze back toward Otis, who had a bad feeling.
When the last giant barrel was filled, Carmine straightened her back, clenched her fist tightly, and gave David a solemn military salute.
"I represent all the wounded in thanking you for your selfless assistance. This milk is very precious, and I will not take it for free."
"I will compensate you for this milk at the price of medicine, converted into Imperial Currency."
'Imperial Currency, what good is that to me?' David quickly interjected, "Can I exchange it for something else?"
"What does Sir David mean?" Carmine stopped walking.
"Some precious metals, like Gold, for example."
David sounded a little unsure when he said this; he wasn't certain if his beast milk was valuable enough to be exchanged for Gold.
"Gold?" Carmine pondered for a moment, then nodded.
"The specifics might only be discussed once we meet up with the main force,"
"However, I assure you, sir David, I will do my best to negotiate this for you."
"That's good," David nodded. It looked like his golden apple finally had a source.
Hans and Sergeant Victor finally ended their conversation and walked toward David, one after the other.
'Is it time for the real business?' David braced himself.
Before David could speak, Sergeant Victor's powerful voice rang out, clearly audible across half the camp.
"My name is Victor, an old soldier. I'm a straightforward man who likes to speak his mind, so I won't beat around the bush."
Carmine, who was preparing to leave, looked up. These familiar words immediately cast a shadow of ominous foreboding over her heart.
Victor stopped a few steps in front of David, his gaze, sharp as a hawk's, locked onto him.
"You, your name is David, right? I want to ask you one thing: What exactly is your objective?"
His words were aggressive and challenging.
"Hey, hey, there's no need to be so aggressive, is there?" Bella, keeping watch from a high position, couldn't help but poke her head out.
"Sergeant Victor, what do you mean by that? Sir David has been helping us treat the wounded!" Carmine burst out in anger.
Hans, who was beside Victor, subtly distanced himself from the Sergeant.
His eyes silently questioned, 'That's not what we discussed, is it?'
Victor ignored the reactions around him, his figure standing tall and unwavering like a pine tree.
"I hate politicians," he said slowly, every word landing like a weight hitting the ground,
"Because those people always have hidden meanings in their words, act one way publicly and another privately, and conceal ulterior motives."
He changed tack, leveling his accusation at David again: "So what about you? Possessing miraculous power..."
His gaze swept over the lush green Farmland nearby, then fell upon the beast milk Carmine had just collected.
"Since you stepped into this camp, you've been helping us without asking for anything in return. What exactly are you trying to achieve?"
Victor removed the heavily worn Military Cap from his head, revealing short, neatly trimmed, graying hair.
His eyes, tempered by countless battles, were completely clear as they fixed intensely on David.
The entire camp fell silent. David met Victor's scrutinizing gaze without any panic on his face.
He paused, appearing to be genuinely considering his words.
"Who told you I was helping you for free?"
Sergeant Victor was stunned for a moment.
David immediately followed up, his tone clear: "Everything I have done has a very explicit purpose."
He raised his hand and pointed at Victor, but his gaze seemed to pass over him, looking toward something more profound:
"I want to cooperate with you."
"No, to be precise, not you personally, but the power of Cadia that you represent."
To be honest, David actually appreciated Victor's attitude.
Laying all doubts out in the open and clarifying them before cooperation truly began.
That was far better than having the cooperation fall apart halfway through due to suspicion or hidden conflicts.
This was also why he chose to go to Tyrok Bastion, hoping to meet Kreed, the Supreme Lord of the Bastion.
Dealing with pure soldiers or Commanders, although sometimes their straightforwardness could be uncomfortable.
But it was far more reliable than maneuvering around calculating politicians.
One must remember that even in the turbulent 41st Millennium of the Imperium of Man, there was no shortage of greedy and short-sighted parasites.
David wasn't afraid of opponents like gods, only teammates like pigs.
"Hans should have briefly mentioned some of my abilities to you, right?"
As David spoke, he casually pulled out a crafting table and placed it on the empty ground between them.
Victor nodded.
"Materials," David stated directly. "I need many, many different kinds of materials."
"Gold, Diamond, obsidian, Redstone—common, rare, and precious."
David recalled that in the Ork Cave, if he hadn't been lucky enough to discover that Mine,
he didn't know how much time he would have wasted just gathering the basic resources for a set of iron armor.
Utilizing the resource collection capabilities of a large faction was clearly a more efficient choice.
"Also," he added, emphasizing the point, "I need access to certain specialized personnel, such as Tech-Priests."
David had long been contemplating the prospects of applying Minecraft automation and Redstone Technology in this world.
In his previous life, he only had a slight understanding of Redstone and various Technological Mods. He could manually assemble an Automatic Iron Farm or a Simple Mob Grinder.
But creating a more complex and advanced automation system was beyond his capacity.
But the Warhammer Universe has Tech-Priests!
Those cogboys who consider machinery sacred and dedicate their lives to studying mechanical principles and applications,
Absolutely surpass him in mechanical understanding and application.
The high-degree-of-freedom automation of Minecraft, combined with that group of Tech-Priests—the sparks that could fly from that combination were unimaginable to David.
After speaking so much in one breath, David felt somewhat parched.
Naturally, he pulled a bucket of beast milk from his inventory, took a few gulps, and moistened his throat.