When James first laid out his grand vision, a heavy silence fell over the room. People exchanged side-eyed glances, and the word "crazy" began to ripple through the crowd like a cold draft. To them, this was just a dusty town where the wind blew harder than the economy grew. The idea of a global powerhouse felt impossible, the talk of a man who had spent too much time in the sun.
But then, the atmosphere shifted.
Hunter stepped forward, his massive presence acting like an anchor in the room. He didn't say a word, but his steady gaze warned anyone against laughing. Then Helen stood up, her voice calm and firm. "In sixty years, this town hasn't offered us anything but a hard life and a quiet grave," she said. "James is offering us a future. If he's crazy enough to think we can own the world, then I'm crazy enough to follow him."
Finally, Bob slammed his hand on the bar, nodding in agreement. Seeing these three, the heart, the muscle, and the soul of the community, stand behind James changed everything. The townfolk didn't necessarily believe in the plan yet, but they believed in the people who trusted him. They decided then and there to follow James, if only to see what a man with that much fire in his eyes could actually do.
For the first twelve months, James put his words into action. He didn't ask for a single cent from the community, instead, he dipped into his own mysterious reserves and began to fund the construction himself. He broke ground in the center of town, and soon, the skeleton of a massive stone library began to rise from the dust.
Crate after crate arrived by rail and wagon. They were filled with every kind of book imaginable: medical journals, engineering blueprints, history from ancient lands, and manuals on modern chemistry. At first, the townfolk watched with cautious curiosity. But as they saw the building take shape, as they saw "result after result", the skepticism began to melt away.
Slowly, the town transformed. Seeing James work harder than any three men combined, and seeing the wealth he was literally pouring into their dirt roads, the families began to pitch in. Men brought their tools after their own chores were done; women organized the indexing of the new volumes; children helped carry bricks. The library wasn't just James's project anymore, it had become the town's pride.
Once the library was completed, the sound of hammers continued as the town broke ground on a school. It was the first time the children of the 80 families had a place dedicated entirely to their future. And to the surprise of many, James took his place at the front of the classroom.
If anyone doubted his ability to teach, those doubts vanished the moment he spoke. James didn't just teach from books; he taught from experience. He spoke of history as if he had stood on the battlefields himself (which he had). He taught geography with the detail of a man who had walked the continents.
His brain remained as sharp and fast as it had been in his youth, but it was coupled with ninety years of accumulated wisdom, a treasure trove of knowledge that no other teacher in America could match. The children didn't just learn arithmetic and grammar, they learned strategy, resilience, and the importance of looking out for one another. Under James's guidance, the school became the forge where the future leaders of the "Global Powerhouse" were being shaped.
It didn't take long for the townfolk to realize that James was no ordinary man. His mind operated with a terrifying precision, his IQ sitting at a staggering 179. When people looked at him, they realized they were seeing a unique fusion: the raw, survivalist instincts of a wolf combined with a genius-level intellect. He was, quite simply, the most intelligent "wolf" to ever live.
In the classroom, his brilliance was undeniable. He could solve complex engineering problems in his head and recall historical details from decades ago with perfect clarity. His brain remained as fresh and vital as a young man's, never slowing down or fading. To the 80 families, he wasn't just a teacher; he was an "Apex Mind", a leader who could see ten steps ahead of the rest of the world. Under his guidance, the children weren't just learning their ABCs; they were being mentored by a man who had mastered the art of survival over nearly a century.
James's days were split between two worlds. By night, he stood at the chalkboard, his 179 IQ guiding the children through the complexities of the world. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, he wasn't sleeping. He was at the river's edge.
The natural water source wasn't enough to sustain the industrial powerhouse James envisioned, so he proposed a "crazy" idea: they would build a massive dam to create a reservoir. With modern machinery unavailable and capital being saved for the library, they had to rely on the one resource they had in abundance: wood.
The valley was thick with ancient, sturdy timber. Under James's direction, the men began harvesting the forests. They built a Timber-Crib Dam, using massive log structures weighted down with heavy stones. James worked alongside them, often carrying logs that required four men to lift. To the townfolk, he was a miracle, a teacher who could explain the stars at midnight and a giant who could move mountains at dawn.
With the library finished and the school running at night, the town's focus shifted to infrastructure. Under James's relentless guidance, they began construction on the massive timber-crib dam to secure their water supply. Nearby, the first workshops were established to craft high-quality oak barrels, the essential "armor" for the alcoholic beverages that would soon fund their entire dream.
Bob watched it all with his eyes wide in disbelief. He had lived in this valley his whole life, seeing nothing but struggle and stagnation. Now, he saw a miracle unfolding. He watched as James, a man who seemed to never tire, moved from the construction site to the classroom without missing a beat.
For the first time, Bob felt a deep, piercing sense of hope for his family. He wasn't just looking at the next harvest; he was looking fifty or sixty years into the future. He could see it clearly now: his grandchildren wouldn't be farmers struggling for scraps, they would be the heirs to a global powerhouse. James wasn't just building buildings; he was building a legacy that would stand "until the end of time."
By the end of the second year, the transformation was undeniable. This was no longer a dying settlement, it had become a bustling hub of industry and intellect. The stone library stood like a fortress in the center, and the steady hum of the water dam provided a heartbeat for the community. Even in the dead of night, the town glowed with a newfound energy.
One evening, just as the chill of March was beginning to fade, James sent word to every one of the eighty families. He didn't send a messenger to the bars or the fields; he sent the call through the new internal network they had built.
"Meet in the town square," the word spread.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, the townfolk gathered. They stood in the square, looking up at the man who had changed everything. James stood on the steps of the library waiting for everyone to arrive.
As the word spread through the bustling streets, the atmosphere in the town shifted from industry to celebration. The eighty families didn't march to the square out of duty; they arrived with their arms full. Women carried baskets of warm bread and roasted meats, while the men brought jugs of the latest "medicinal" brew from the distillery.
They had learned over the last two years that when James called a meeting, something world-changing was about to be revealed. These gatherings had become the heartbeat of their community, a time to share the fruits of their labor and listen to the man who had transformed their lives.
The square was lit by lanterns, the flickering light bouncing off the stone walls of the library. There was laughter, the clinking of glasses, and a sense of profound security. They sat on the wooden benches they had built together, eating and drinking, waiting for the "Intellectual Wolf" to step into the light and show them the next piece of the future.
James held up his hands, and the square fell into a respectful silence. The flickering lantern light caught the sharp lines of his face.
"Listen to me," he began, his voice carrying easily to the back of the crowd. "For two years, we have poured our sweat into this dirt. We've built a library, a school, and a dam. Many of you have wondered when we would see the gold. Well, look at the ledgers. Despite every cent we've spent on stone, timber, and books—and despite the outsiders who keep coming here to poke around, our accounts are steady. We haven't lost a penny, and we haven't gained one. We have broken even."
He let that sink in for a moment before a sharp, knowing grin touched his lips.
"That means our plan is working. We have built an entire world out of nothing, and it's paying for itself. We are officially self-sufficient. From this night forward, we stop building the foundation and start building the empire. The 'break-even' era is over. Now, we grow, and we grow until this town is a powerhouse the world cannot ignore."
"But we can't do this without a leader," james announces. "We need someone to helm this ship, someone to watch our backs and ensure no one hinders our progress. We need a face for this town."
Before the adults could argue, a small voice piped up from the front row. "Why don't you do it, Uncle James?"
It was little Lily. She looked up at me with wide, trusting eyes. My heart, usually as cold and sharp as a mountain stream, softened instantly at her question. I knelt down so I was at her eye level.
"Uncle can't do it, Lily," I said softly, my voice losing its hard edge. "If Uncle becomes the leader, he'll be too busy with meetings and outsiders. I wouldn't be able to teach you in school anymore."
Lily's face went frantic. "No, no! Uncle James, you have to teach us!" she cried, grabbing my sleeve as if she were afraid I'd disappear right then and there.
A ripple of warm laughter broke out across the square. The townfolk watched the interaction with genuine affection. In that moment, the "Genius Architect" was gone, replaced by the favorite teacher of the 80 families.
As the laughter from Lily's outburst faded into a warm, comfortable silence, James looked out at the sea of faces in the square. In that moment, he felt something he hadn't experienced in nearly seventy years.
He realized that every single person there, every man, woman, and child, knew exactly what he was. They knew he was different, that he was dangerous, and that he carried secrets the rest of the world would kill for. Yet, they didn't look at him with fear or greed. They looked at him with the same fierce loyalty that Helen, Hunter, and Bob had shown from the beginning.
"Hahaha, yes Lily," James laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the square. "That is exactly why we need to find someone else to be the boss. It's like when you play 'diner' and you pretend to sell your food, Lily."
Lily's face turned a bright shade of pink at the mention of her games. She had a secret dream of opening her own restaurant when she grew up. She loved cooking so much that she practically fed the entire town. Whether her creations tasted like dry cardboard or had no flavor at all, the townfolk always ate every bite with a smile. They loved her spirit as much as James did.
"See?" James said, looking back at the crowd while ruffling Lily's hair. "Even Lily knows you can't be the chef and the manager at the same time if you want the food to be good. I belong in the classroom and the laboratory. We need someone else to stand out front."
"So," James said, leaning against the library's stone pillar, "who do you want to vote for as the Mayor of this town?"
A low murmur rippled through the square as families whispered among themselves. They looked at the progress around them, the dam, the school, the barrels of aging whiskey, and they thought about who had been there for every single brick.
Finally, a voice rose from the crowd, followed by dozens of others: "Hunter!"
Hunter looked stunned, his large hands calloused from the day's work on the dam. But the choice made perfect sense. Over the past two years, Hunter hadn't just been James's muscle, he had been his most dedicated student. When the sun went down, Hunter didn't head to the bar, he headed to the library. He had been seen late into the night, hunched over books on law, civil engineering, and history. He didn't just read because he had to; he read because he had developed a hunger for knowledge.
Hunter stepped forward, looking at James for approval. James nodded slowly, a proud smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The town now had a leader who was strong enough to defend them and smart enough to understand the "100-Year Plan."
"We want Hunter as the new Mayor!" the crowd roared.
As soon as the words hit the air, Hunter's face went pale. He didn't look like a proud leader; he looked like a man who wanted to bolt into the dark Montana woods and never look back. He took one step to run, but before he could even move an inch, a hand like an iron vise clamped down on his shoulder.
It was James. He didn't let go. Hunter looked over and saw James grinning, a wild, mischievous glint in his eyes that said, 'You're not going anywhere.' Hunter stood there, trapped between the cheering crowd and the "Intellectual Wolf." He looked like he wanted to cry, his eyes darting around for an exit that didn't exist. But the townfolk were already closing in, patting him on the back and shaking his hand. They weren't going to let their new "Warrior-Scholar" escape. Hunter was the Mayor now, whether he liked it or not, held in place by the strongest, and smartest, man he had ever known.
"Then it's settled!" James shouted over the crowd, his laughter booming like thunder. "Hunter... you are the new Mayor of this town! Hahaha!"
As James's laughter rang out, the tension finally snapped, and the entire square erupted. All eighty families, the men, the women, and even the children like Lily, started laughing until their sides ached. There was something genuinely hilarious about seeing the strongest man in the county, a man who could wrestle a timber beam into place without breaking a sweat, looking absolutely terrified of a mayor's sash.
As the years passed, the town followed James's blueprints with unwavering faith. They had seen him find water where there was none and build a school that produced the smartest children in the state. So, when he proposed his most "insane" project yet, they didn't call him crazy, they grabbed their shovels.
James ordered the excavation of a massive underground complex, reaching 50 meters (roughly 165 feet) below the bedrock. To the townfolk, he explained it was a "Deep Storage Vault" for their spirits and a "Safe Haven" against the massive storms and wars he predicted were coming. They had no idea he was preparing them for a threat that hadn't even been invented yet: The Atomic Age.
Deep in the cool, silent earth, they carved out a subterranean city. It was designed to house all 80 families for years if necessary, with independent air filtration and water from the deep aquifer. At the very center, James built his private sanctuary, a state-of-the-art laboratory where he could study his own biology and develop technologies decades ahead of the outside world.
As the excavation for the 50-meter bunker deepened, James realized that traditional wood and stone wouldn't be enough to withstand the weight of the earth or the future he foresaw. He turned his attention to chemistry, specifically the composition of the town's cement.
James didn't just buy bags of lime; he engineered a specific formula. He focused on the production of Calcium Alumino Ferrite and, more importantly, the optimization of Calcium Silicate Hydrate (C-S-H). He explained to the bewildered but fascinated workers that this "colloidal gel" was the secret to their survival. By ensuring that C-S-H constituted 70 percent of the hardened paste, he created a binding agent that was far stronger and more durable than anything available on the market.
Under his guidance, the town began pouring reinforced walls that were essentially "synthetic bedrock." The bunker wasn't just a hole in the ground anymore; it was a masterpiece of molecular engineering, designed to last for centuries without cracking or leaking.
(i just copy paste google finding just to make more sense in all this)
With the "Super-Cement" formula perfected, the town began building its first major industrial complex. James didn't want to run the factory himself; he had a school to teach and a secret lab to build. Instead, he looked for a master of the craft.
He chose Gunther, the town's most skilled stone mason. Gunther was a man of few words and immense strength, with a name that sounded strange to the local Montana ears. His mother had immigrated from Romania, bringing with her old-world secrets of masonry that Gunther had refined under James's scientific guidance.
"Gunther," James said, handing him the blueprints for the factory. "This isn't just a job. This is your family's legacy. You manage the kiln, you manage the mix, and you ensure every block that leaves this building is as strong as bedrock."
Gunther looked at the chemical formulas, the Calcium Alumino Ferrite and the C-S-H targets—and nodded. He might have had a "weird" name to some, but to the eighty families, he was now the Master of Stone. Under his watch, the factory began churning out the gray gold that would pave their roads and reinforce their secret bunkers.
While the 50-meter bunker project was officially launched, James was realistic about the timeline. With his 179 IQ, he calculated that a project of that magnitude, carving a city out of bedrock, would take at least fifty years to fully complete. It was a legacy for the future, not a task for today.
The priority now was the economy.
James divided the town's focus into industrial sectors. With a population of roughly 80 people, there were about 16 to 17 heads of families. James treated these family heads like a board of directors. One by one, he established businesses, cement, distillery, timber, and spice, and handed the keys to a family to manage.
"The bunker is our safety for tomorrow," James told the gathered family heads. "But the factories are our strength for today. We build the wealth first. We secure the trade routes. Once the money is flowing like the river from our dam, the bunker will build itself."
The last five years passed in a blur of relentless progress. Logan acted as the architect of the town's economy, taking existing family trades and scaling them into massive, efficient industries. For those families without a trade, he designed entirely new businesses from scratch. Under his "shadow leadership," the town became a hidden powerhouse, fueled by his genius and the families' loyalty.
But Logan's most impressive work happened in the quiet hours. Despite his exhaustion from teaching at night and working the construction sites by morning, he never neglected his own training. In his deep underground lab, 50 meters below the surface, his experiments with his own physiology finally bore fruit.
After five years of relentless discipline, Logan achieved what no other being on Earth could. He mastered the Seven Heavenly Breaths. While he remained a mutant at his core, he had become something far more disciplined, he only manage to level second of seven heavenly breath, it was more than enough to protect everyone here in this town.
....
As the year 1908 unfolded, the rapid pace of the town's growth slowed for a moment of shared grief. The community experienced its first loss: Victoria's mother. After being bedridden for many years, she finally found her peace.
The townspeople didn't just see this as the passing of an elderly woman; they saw it as a loss for the entire family. Every soul in the town gathered to stand beside Victoria and her husband, Mike. Both had been instrumental in the town's success, their unwavering support and hard work were key reasons why this settlement had evolved into something much greater than just a town.
Standing together in the square, the eighty families offered their silent gratitude. They weren't just neighbors anymore; they were a pack honoring one of their own. Logan stood among them, his sharp mind focused on the legacy these people were building, and his heart heavy with the realization that while he was timeless, the people he loved were not.
We sent Victoria's mother on her final journey, not with heavy hearts, but with a sense of pride and joy. We chose to celebrate the life she lived and the foundation she helped lay. Even though she is no longer among the living, she will always be a resident of this town.
After the service, we laid Victoria's mother to rest in the new cemetery. It wasn't just a plot of land; we had built a serene, beautiful garden for all the elders who would eventually find their peace. It was a place designed for rest, crafted with the deep respect of descendants who knew they stood on the shoulders of those who came before.
Victoria and Mike stepped toward James, the cold wind of the valley softened by the warmth of their gratitude. Without a word, Victoria pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Thank you, James," she whispered. "You let her go with such peace. You gave her dignity we didn't even know was possible."
James returned the hug, his voice low and steady. "We are family now, Victoria. I will do anything for my family. We look after each other... always."
Then, Mike stepped forward and wrapped his arms around both of them. As he held Logan, a sudden, heavy realization struck him. He looked into James's eyes, eyes that had seen nearly a century and would see many more, and he understood. He realized that one day, James would be the one standing over their graves, too.
Mike understood that James was pouring his soul into this town because he knew he would be the last one left. By giving them a beautiful life and a peaceful end, James was trying to ensure that when his time to mourn them finally came, he wouldn't be left with regret, only love.
"It's okay, Mike," James said, his voice echoing softly in the quiet cemetery. He looked at the faces of the eighty families, his eyes reflecting the flickering lantern light. "I have all of you now. It isn't a curse to live forever if it means I get the chance to know every one of you."
In that moment, a wave of realization washed over the townfolk. They understood why James went so far beyond what was required. He wasn't just digging a grave or performing a ritual; he was building a bridge between his eternal life and their fleeting ones. He was making every second count because he knew how precious those seconds were.
They saw that his "100-Year Plan" wasn't about power or money, it was about making sure that the people he loved lived lives so meaningful that even an immortal would be proud to remember them.
From that day forward, the bond between James and the townspeople became unbreakable. He was no longer just the "Intellectual Wolf" or the mysterious teacher from the library, he was James Howlett, and he finally had a family.
The people made sure he felt it every single day. Whether it was a shared meal, a nod of deep respect from Gunther at the cement factory, or the way the children ran to greet him, the message was clear. James realized it, too, every man, woman, and child in this valley was his. He had been there to guide them, protect them, and build their future; in return, they were there to give him the one thing his immortality had always denied him: a place where he truly belonged. He was their guardian, and they were his heart.
....
Time, as always, moved forward with relentless speed. By 1910, the town was a miracle of hidden industry and deep-rooted love. But as Logan stood atop the dam he helped build, he felt the shifting winds of history. His genius-level foresight told him that the Great War was looming on the horizon, a conflict that would change the world forever.
he had to play his part in the outside world. He needed to find Victor. He knew that their paths were destined to lead back to the Weapon X program, the crucible that would give him the adamantium bones he needed to become an immortal shield for his people.
Over the last five years, the town has transformed into a hidden gem of the North. Under the leadership of Mayor Hunter and the strategic mind of James, the population has steadily climbed as the 80 families expanded.
The town's economy is now a closed, powerful loop. James and Hunter established the Town Bank, where every cent of profit from their booming exports is managed and reinvested. The town is no longer a secret camp, it's a thriving community. Travelers and merchants passing through, carefully screened by Hunter's men, now find a high-end Motel, a bustling Diner serving the best food in the county, and a Bar where the town's own whiskey flows freely.
In the final months before his departure, James finalized a master plan that was decades ahead of its time. He designed a revolutionary sewage and waste management system, turning the town's refuse into a "new lease on life" by processing it into high-grade organic fertilizer for the fields.
He didn't stop at infrastructure. James established a fabric and textile factory, ensuring the town could produce its own clothing and blankets from local wool and flax. The surrounding lands were transformed into a lush patchwork of agriculture: golden fields of barley and corn, and orchards heavy with vegetables and fruit.
Because the town's population was still small relative to the massive amount of work, James and Hunter used the town's booming bank reserves to hire and pay laborers from the surrounding regions. These workers were well-paid and well-treated, but they were kept on the "outer circle," never allowed to see the secret 50-meter bunker or the true extent of the technology hidden in the library.
The world outside our valley started changing fast. Word reached us of a new invention called the "Automobile", strange carriages that moved without horses. To us, it seemed like magic or madness. But when we spoke to James about it, he didn't look surprised at all. In fact, he looked almost bored, as if he had been waiting for them to catch up.
He gathered the seventeen family heads in the library and rolled out a series of hand-drawn graphs. He didn't just show us the cars of 1910, he showed us what was coming. He drew lines showing the increase in engine efficiency, the development of "aerodynamics," and the eventual death of the horse-drawn carriage.
"Don't just look at what they are now," James told us, pointing to a sketch of a sleek, futuristic machine. "Look at what they will become. In fifty years, these machines will move faster than a cheetah. In eighty years, they will be the heartbeat of the world. We aren't just going to buy cars; we are going to build the infrastructure to handle them."
James sat the family heads down and explained the final piece of the economic puzzle. "We aren't going to build the cars," he said, tapping a diagram of an engine. "If we build cars, the world will notice us. Instead, we will be the ones they can't live without. We will supply the parts."
He proposed the establishment of a massive Recycling and Reclamation Center located a few miles outside the main town. To the outside world, it looked like a humble scrapyard. In reality, it was a high-tech facility designed to break down old machinery and refine the metals.
"This is the company I want for myself," James told them. This was his clever way of explaining why he wasn't taking a salary from the other 17 businesses. The townfolk felt better knowing James had his "own" project, but in reality, the recycling center was the town's greatest defense, it allowed them to bring in tons of steel and copper for the bunker without anyone suspecting they were building a fortress.
James knew that giving the town a jet engine in 1910 would be useless, no one would know how to fix it. Instead, he went back to basics. He took the classic 1899 Water Pump design and worked with Robert, the town's head blacksmith and forger.
James promoted Robert to lead the town's brand-new Foundry. He handed Robert the blueprints for a modified pump system designed to increase water pressure for the whole town and the new "Super-Cement" factory. But then, something happened that surprised even James, Robert improved the design.
Robert lived in this era; he understood the weight of the iron, the heat of the Montana forge, and the specific grit of the local water better than James did. He looked at James's "future-math" and translated it into something more rugged and efficient for the time.
"You've got the spirit of it right, James," Robert said, wiping soot from his brow, "but if we curve the valve this way, the iron won't crack under the winter freeze."
James smiled. He realized then that he didn't have to be the only genius in the valley. By giving people like Robert the tools and the confidence to innovate, he was ensuring the town's brainpower would grow even while he was away.
We built a massive foundry for Robert, a place that felt like the center of the earth. Near the furnaces, the temperature soared to a blistering 40°C, a heat so intense it could bake the air itself. But this wasn't an ordinary, primitive forge.
James had redesigned the entire thermal system. We didn't just throw wood onto a fire to burn coal; we used a sophisticated forced-induction system. The secret to the foundry's power was the Water Pump network. James had integrated the town's water system into the foundry's machinery. The pressure from the pumps powered the massive bellows that fed the fires and operated the heavy hammers used to shape the iron.
In this town, the water didn't just provide life, it provided motion. Everything from our clean taps to Robert's glowing furnaces ran on the blueprints James had drawn. It was a masterpiece of mechanical harmony.
James understood the fundamental law of physics: Friction creates heat. He designed a system where the massive water wheel didn't just turn a mill, it drove a series of complex gears and belts that powered a specialized steam engine. By modern standards, it was compact, but for 1910, its power was immense. This engine allowed Robert to maintain consistent, high temperatures, making the heating of heavy steel effortless.
But the true masterpiece was the Hydraulic Punch Machine. Driven by the relentless pressure of the town's water system, this machine could strike with the force of fifty men.
When James presented the blueprints, Robert's eyes lit up with a fire that rivaled his own furnace. This wasn't just a job anymore; it was a passion. Robert became obsessed with the precision of the machine, realizing he could now mold and shape steel into complex forms that were previously impossible for a human blacksmith. The foundry wasn't just a forge, it was the birthplace of a new era.
To complement the water-powered foundry, I designed a massive wind-driven turbine system on the outskirts of town. The mechanism itself was elegant in its simplicity, a series of high-torque blades connected to a heavy-duty gear assembly.
As the relentless mountain winds turned the great blades, the gears translated that raw power into a rotating drive shaft. I didn't just leave the power at the turbine; I ran a network of underground mechanical shafts and pulleys that connected to every home we had built so far.
In the homes, this "wind-power" could be used for simple but life-changing tasks: running fans for cooling, turning a laundry drum, or even powering a small grain mill in the kitchen. The families didn't need electricity to have modern comforts; they had the wind.
We built a communal bathhouse that quickly became the heart of the town's social life. The engineering was a stroke of genius: we diverted the hot water used to cool the machinery in Robert's foundry and piped it across the settlement. By the time the water traveled that distance, it had cooled naturally to the perfect, steaming temperature for a soak. There is nothing quite like relaxing in that bathhouse after a long day, letting the heat wash away the soot and the stress.
But luxury wasn't the only goal. As problems arose, we solved them one by one. I developed a formula for high-quality soap and a primitive but effective mechanical dishwasher to save the families hours of labor. We didn't invent everything at once; we listened to the town. Every time a problem appeared, we found a solution. Step by step, we turned survival into a life of comfort.
Word began to spread among the traveling merchant circles. They spoke of a hidden valley where the steel didn't break, the soap smelled like mountain air, and the produce lasted longer than anything from the big city markets.
One by one, the merchants started coming to us to stock their wagons. They would arrive with empty crates and leave with high-quality merchandise to sell in their own territories. We became a "hotspot", a secret source of superior goods. From the iron parts forged in Robert's hydraulic foundry to the fine fabrics from our new factory, our town's name (though still kept quiet) became a mark of excellence for traders across the region. We weren't just surviving; we were fueling the trade of the entire Northwest.
With the town's growing wealth came the inevitable: bandits. However, the "infestation" was handled so swiftly that it was over before most people finished their morning coffee. No one in our town was injured, thanks to the preparations James had made.
James realized that the chemical processes used for our high-grade cement could also produce gunpowder. He took that raw resource and created blueprints for a town-specific arsenal. He didn't give us futuristic weapons that would look out of place; instead, he redesigned the classic single-action revolver. He modified the cylinder for extra capacity and reinforced the frame to handle a much higher "punch." As the men say with a laugh, the recoil is so powerful it'll take your arm off if you aren't ready, but for those who can handle it, they never leave home without it.
To lead our defense, James personally trained our Sheriff, one of our own townspeople. He didn't just teach him how to shoot; he passed down decades of battlefield experience and brutal hand-to-hand combat techniques. Our Sheriff isn't just a lawman; he's a student of a master warrior.
Over the past ten years, the town has become a beacon of opportunity, attracting workers from all over the region. However, under Mayor Hunter's firm leadership, we have strictly followed the "Foundational Protocol." While we welcome new laborers, the core businesses and secret industries remain exclusively in the hands of the original families. Even if a resident marries an outsider, that newcomer is placed on a strict probationary period. We don't want the town to live in fear or paranoia, but we understand that survival requires countermeasures.
To protect our secrets, I established a specialized Intelligence Unit. Their sole purpose is to gather and verify information on everyone entering the valley. All data is stored in a secure "Temporary Bunker." Meanwhile, work continues on the Original 50-Meter Bunker; we are still digging deep into the earth, carving out a sanctuary that will withstand the coming century of war.
We began to monitor every soul who entered our borders. Every scrap of information we gathered was filed and locked away in a high-security vault for future reference. I drilled the importance of this into my people's minds, a lesson they would carry for generations:
"In the future, information is the ultimate power. Those who hold the information first will control every sector of society."
This was the spark that ignited the Deep Cloak Division. These operatives didn't just stay in town; they began to move throughout the United States, blending into the growing cities and industrial centers. Their mission was simple: gather every piece of intelligence, economic, political, and scientific, and bring it back home.
As the years passed, Houston grew larger and more powerful. To the outside world, it looked like a booming industrial city. To us, it was a fortress of knowledge, guarded by the shadows we sent out into the world.