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Yes, you are right. In any case, it will have to be done.
- Ukon, - Ukon repeats. He glances at his horns - he filed them down, partly because they interfere in combat, and partly because he didn't feel he had the right to wear them. He shrugs, - I don't know what's in my background, but one thing is clear - there's nothing admirable about it. But we are who we are, and there's nothing we can do about it.
- Uh... - he addresses the receptionist/Katridge/whoever is on duty. - I assume you are aware of the situation. Is there anyone among you who is knowledgeable about extracting materials and willing to risk their life for the common good? That would help us a lot. I would like him to be knowledgeable in medicine, but in our conditions, I suppose that is impossible. You can't make much money from mushrooms and mold.
- This is Galak, a very talented specialist. Working tirelessly for several years, he brought soil from the abyss and managed to build a small garden and even grow unusual food for our conditions.
- Good day, everyone! - He stamped his foot and turned 360 degrees, looking at the members of the expedition. - I'm Galak, at your service!