Morning at the Labor Camp
The morning at the labor camp. The women who opened their eyes felt their hearts beating faster than usual. Today marked the start of their work assignments. General labor jobs like cleaning, factory work, and farming would be thrown straight into the field. Hands-on learning was the fastest way. Meanwhile, security, firefighting, and some service roles began their training period today. The security team especially had a lot to learn beyond combat skills—they had to master proxy admin privileges too—so they were going straight into boot camp barracks training.
The security recruits finished breakfast and washed up, then were escorted to the barracks. It was the old guard headquarters used by human security before the infection outbreak. Back then, it reeked of men's sweat and lonely bachelor funk, but now it was fresh and fragrant.
> All personnel: Change into uniforms and assemble in the auditorium by 1000 hours. Over and out.
This was a temporary barracks built near the guard HQ. The instructor robot issued the order and departed.
The security uniforms were a mix of old male stock and newly produced female versions. Bigger women got the men's sizes. Uniformity was a relic of the old world now—savings and efficiency were the eternal virtues moving forward.
"Of all days, my period had to start today," one woman grumbled as she stripped off her top.
"You could've kept that to yourself," shot back the woman across from her, yanking on her socks.
"You think this place gives a damn about that? We're security recruits—how we got in here means we'll tough it out no matter what."
Just as prison guards had it easiest in the slammer, everyone agreed security was the prime gig in the Shelter. Wielding the city lord's power by proxy made you quasi-elite.
As they changed, everyone snuck glances around. This was pure meritocracy. High training scores meant better treatment ahead. Even if you survived now, fall behind in the competition and you'd get booted to another job anytime. These barracks mates were rivals too.
All eyes converged on one spot. The prime candidate, looking the fittest. A Slavic beauty with long limbs on display—Nina. As she arched back to peel off her top, her stark white chiseled abs gleamed. Her panty-clad lower half was sleek yet solid. Reaching on tiptoes for the hanger atop the locker highlighted her diamond-hard calves. Beauty forged from thousands, tens of thousands of kicks. Nothing like the fake tautness of high heels—her calves were divine craftsmanship. Some women here had taken kicks from those legs, so they knew they were brutal clubs beyond the beauty.
But the women's interest in Nina wasn't just her strength.
"Hey, Nina."
"Yeah?"
The short-haired woman asking was Park Hyun-mi. She'd played platoon leader in the recent security riot VR sim and got knocked out early. A fellow martial artist, she had a slight bond with her cellmate buddy Nina.
"Did you really do it with the Manager?"
"Do what?"
"What do you think? This." Hyun-mi clapped her palms together at 90 degrees, mimicking the motion.
"Ha..." Nina let out a scoff.
Every woman in the room turned curious eyes her way. Men, power, sex—in women's prison, any one was a hit; all three bundled? Irresistible.
"Cut the bullshit and get dressed."
Nina slid her foot into the pant leg. Spreading her legs made her glutes pop even more. Not just bulked-up muscle from training—this was a body sculpted by raw hunger for strength.
The women figured Nina hadn't caught the Manager's eye for nothing. Truth was, she'd set her sights on him first.
"Come on, spill. We're dying to know."
"Acting like she doesn't care about guys, then pointing right at her with his finger."
"The bitch who went wild at the host bar and landed in here."
The ex-gang women listening chimed in. No malice—just playful ribbing from familiarity.
But Nina's forehead vein bulged.
"Listen up, you cunts. I didn't go there to fuck—I went to fight."
Of course, they did fuck. Quite enthusiastically. And filthy.
"Fight? The building owner?"
Nina nodded at their stunned faces.
"You saw the vid, right? Him smashing monsters solo. Ex-military too, so I wanted a go. Wasn't planning it at first, but beating that chink bitch got my blood up..."
"Knew you were crazy, but this is next-level psycho."
Everyone was dumbfounded. Hyun-mi, the fellow fighter, perked up though.
"Who won?"
"Me? Lost, obviously. What kinda question is that?"
Even as an ex-pro fighter, weight class against a fit guy was absolute. Especially a special forces vet with real battle scars. He even seemed versed in wrestling. Nina didn't know about his goddess-blessed super soldier enhancements, of course.
"Still fun though. Damn, he'd dodge everything no matter how hard I swung from this side."
Nina shadowboxed with crisp form.
"Guess what pissed me off most?" She threw a low kick into the air, freezing the pose. "When I go for the low like this..." Then she relaxed, mimicking a dog marking territory mid-walk—an embarrassing stance. "He'd plant his sole out like this, blocking with his instep. Fuck, never saw that coming."
"Insane."
Hyun-mi covered her mouth in disbelief. Fighters knew how absurd that technique was.
Nina went on detailing their scrap, her storytelling sharp with realistic demos midway. Fight talk was as riveting as sex stories, right? When she hit the part about collapsing into Jin-su's arms from exhaustion in a sub hold, reactions exploded. They swarmed her, grilling "You did it!" "No you didn't!"—then declared it fact without her answer.
"Did he cum inside? He did, right? You slut—look at her!"
The oldest woman in the barracks pointed and laughed.
"Shut up and listen, you bitches!"
Nina scowled, but it backfired. Surrounded and bombarded, she lost timing, blurting short answers to some questions. The room detonated.
Kyaaaaah!!!!!!
The women next door froze mid-change at the sudden cheers.
* * *
"My ears are suddenly itchy."
I scratched inside with my pinky. Someone talking shit behind my back?
What are you doing being so unsanitary?
Artemis said in a displeased tone.
"Then give me a cotton swab."
Come to think of it, it had been a while since I cleaned my ears.
No cotton swabs. Do you know how bad it is for your health to dig around in your ear canal with those?
The floor lights meant for pathfinding lit up in sequence. The direction was the infirmary.
Use an ear pick. If it's hard to do it yourself, come to the infirmary.
I definitely recall seeing something like that on the medical news. But it's hard to give up cotton swabs.
"You don't know how refreshing it is to dig in your ear with a cotton swab, do you? That peculiar, ticklish pleasure is just the best!"
I have no desire to know about such base pleasures!
She got angry for the first time in a while.
We bickered like that for a bit. It was time to appoint the temporary squad leaders before the training camp began. For this type of training, having temporary leaders is essential for good efficiency.
You should pin the squad leader badges on them yourself. You need to show your face constantly during times like this to imprint on them who the Administrator is. It will help with motivation as well.
Artemis spoke as if she wouldn't allow any objections.
And since it's an important event, dress neatly.
A serving robot brought over a top and bottom set on a hanger. Hanging amongst them was a lab coat shining with a brilliant, almost blinding white light.
Thirty minutes later.
When I entered the auditorium, I felt gazes pouring in from all directions. It had been a truly long time since I felt this sensation, not since my days as an officer.
Back then, it was just a bunch of dark, shaved-headed guys, but now it was the complete opposite. Everywhere I looked, it was bright and colorful.
Perhaps they had been briefed and rehearsed beforehand, as everyone was standing at parade rest without a single movement.
In front of the women stood the guard robots, painted black. Wearing black caps and sunglasses, they genuinely gave off the vibe of drill instructors.
"I have nothing else to say, other than I expect you to work hard with a sense of responsibility as security personnel. That is all."
I cut out all the unnecessary chatter and quickly stepped down from the podium. I pinned the squad leader badges onto the collars of the temporary leaders standing in the first row.
Having picked out the heavy hitters among former prison guards and criminals, every single one of them had an extraordinary presence.
First, a woman with a knife scar on her right cheek.
Click. A woman with a face like a block of granite.
Click. A woman with a face like a weasel.
Click. A Black woman who looked tough as nails.
Click. And a lovely angel.
Smirk. Right in front of me, Nina was smiling.
I slowly pinned the badge onto her collar. As the back of my hand brushed against her cheek a few times in the process, she made an expression like a contented cat.
Click. After pinning all the badges like that, I received a final salute and exited.
Soon, a thunderous roar echoed from the receding auditorium. The instructor robots had shouted in unison, signaling the start of the earnest training.
"What personality resources did you use for those robots?"
I asked Artemis.
The 'resources' mentioned here refer to the models that serve as the base for the instructor robots' personalities, speech patterns, and teaching methods.
Traditionally, an instructor must always be an object of fear and respect, and must possess both cruelty and the precision of a surgeon.
Looking at Artemis's training plan, it stated that the instructor robots would emulate and install suitable personalities from mass media.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, Herbert Sobel, Arch Dornan, Terence Fletcher, Gordon Ramsay.
The list she rattled off was terrifying.
"Oh my god."
She had truly gathered nothing but demonic human beings.
"You seriously used those personalities?"
The last two on that list weren't even original drill instructors.
It's fine. It's fine. I put locks on them so they can't resort to physical violence or cross the line into actual abuse.
If Artemis says so, I suppose it's true, but...
Hooooooom! I hurriedly looked back at the vibration I felt from behind. It wasn't an earthquake, nor was it an accident.
It was the aftershock of a lion's roar. The robot instructors were screaming so loudly that even the building was resonating.
"Are you sure they're fine?"
They're fine. Probably...
For once, Artemis trailed off at the end of her sentence.