In reality, Karl rarely leaves his factory, devoting most of his time to his Soldats and plans. But today, realizing that his spine can no longer withstand a half-bent position and at this rate he will soon crawl like Moreau, he decided to go out for a walk, at the same time to collect some materials for work. The snow sank under his heavy foot with a quiet creaking sound as he walked through the snowy village. One hand was free, the other held a huge hammer thrown over his shoulder. Light smoke rose into the sky from his cigarette, clamped between his teeth, a couple of iron pieces he found were quietly floating around him. The streets of the village were empty, the residents, as usual, hid in their houses from the Lycans.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, BRAINLESS PARASITES!!!"

Karl barked at the Lycans crowded around some corpse, who immediately scattered in different directions like beaten dogs. Looking at the half-torn corpse, Karl grimaced, realizing that in such a state it was not suitable for creating a new soldier, after which he continued walking, adjusting his grip on the hammer.