harleyscars Chapter 8 Green Soup and Order
Chapter 8 Green Soup and Order
Buck stared at Rowe.
His gaze was as if he were looking at a demon that had just crawled out of the warp.
"You're giving them fertilizer to drink?"
"It's a nutrient solution," Luo Wei corrected him seriously. "The ingredients are organic matter, amino acids, and trace elements."
"After being sterilized at high temperatures, it is theoretically more nutritious than corpse starch. The only downside is that it tastes like mud and is green."
Buck slammed the gun in his hand onto the table.
"You're insane! Those refugees may be lowly, but they're not so lowly as to drink this stuff. They'll riot, they'll tear you to pieces, and then I'll have to waste precious ammunition to suppress them."
"They won't." Rowe pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and spread it on the table. "Because it's the only option."
It was a simple chart.
"Currently, the price of corpse starch on the black market in the lower districts is three Imperial coins for a piece the size of a fingernail."
"And most of the refugees' entire possessions combined amounted to less than a single imperial coin. They were already eating dirt. Real dirt."
Lowe pointed to the red line on the chart.
"The acid rain season is coming in three days. The temperature in the lower levels will plummet, and half of those without shelter will freeze to death."
"The remaining half will kill each other out of hunger."
He stared at Buck's one eye.
"I provide them with shelter, heat sources, and enough heat to keep them alive, even if it's just green mud."
"In this damned world, being alive is the greatest gift an emperor can bestow."
Buck fell silent.
He was a veteran who had seen too many dead people.
He knew that Rowe was telling the truth.
Buck scratched the stubble on his chin and asked:
"Even if they're willing to drink, how are you going to manage 50,000 people? They're just a bunch of starving beasts. If even one person starts a riot, the entire granary will be trampled to the ground."
"That's why I need to borrow troops."
Rowe took a cloth bag from his waist and tossed it to Buck.
The cloth bag landed on the table with a dull thud.
Buck opened the bag.
Inside was a bunch of shiny metal sheets.
It's not about money.
It's an identity tag.
"What is this?"
"The identification tags of the guards who died over the years at the Seventh Grain Depot," Luo Wei explained.
"Supervisor Case had been withholding their compensation payments, but I managed to get the money out when I checked the accounts."
"The amount isn't much, but it's enough for each of your brothers to get a new gun and go to the red-light district at the top of the city for a good night."
Buck's breathing became heavier.
His soldiers had been eating chaff and wild vegetables with him for years, and they had to count their bullets, let alone get new guns.
"Are you bribing me?"
"I'm hiring you," Rowe replied. "I need your men to do two things. First, kill. Second, maintain order. Follow my rules."
Buck reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of cold metal plates.
"What are your rules?"
"It's very simple." Luo Wei straightened his collar. "Those who queue live, those who cut in line die."
……
Lower level, entrance number nineteen.
This is the throat of the city's bottom layer, and also the abyss of despair.
Countless figures wriggled in the dark alleyway.
The air was foul and polluted.
There is no light here, only a sliver of dim yellow light occasionally leaking through as the massive exhaust fan blades turn in the distance.
Luo Wei stood on the high platform.
Behind them were a batch of metal barrels filled with steaming green liquid.
On either side of him were two hundred fully armed guards.
The dark muzzle of a gun was pointed downwards.
The crowd below surged like a black tide.
They saw steam rising from the bucket.
That's the smell of food.
Even if it smells like fermenting corpses, to these people it's a fragrance.
"Give me...give me a bite..."
"I have money, I have half an imperial coin!"
"Get out of my way, let me pass!"
The crowd began to stir.
Some people tried to cross the cordon.
"Bang!"
A gunshot rang out.
The burly man at the front had his head smashed open and his body fell heavily to the ground.
The crowd fell silent for a moment, then erupted into even louder screams.
Buck stood next to Rowe, his explosive pistol emitting blue smoke.
"Anyone who takes another step forward will face the same fate!" Buck roared.
All eyes were focused on the thin young man on the high platform.
Lo Wei was holding a megaphone.
"I am Luo Wei, special advisor to the Seventh Grain Depot."
His voice, amplified by the loudspeaker and accompanied by the crackling sound of electricity, echoed throughout the entire square.
"I have 50,000 job openings here. Meals and accommodation provided."
A buzzing sound arose from the crowd.
"But," Rowe pointed to the corpse on the ground, "I don't keep useless people or thugs."
"Now, since you want to eat, you have to listen to me."
Lo Wei took a coin out of his pocket and tossed it into the air.
"From now on, this place will be under military-style management. I will divide you into fifty battalions, each with one thousand men."
"Ten people form a group, and a group leader is elected. Ten groups form a platoon, and a platoon leader is elected."
"Listen carefully, I don't know who's who among you. I only recognize your numbers."
"If anyone runs away, all nine people in the group will be held accountable and have their rations withheld for three days."
"If anyone slacks off, there's a reward for reporting them in the same group; covering it up is the same offense."
"If anyone causes trouble," Rowe glanced at Buck, "execute them on the spot."
The crowd fell silent.
This is the so-called "collective punishment system".
In ancient times, this was the most effective means of controlling armies.
In the Warhammer world, where human life is cheap, this is the only rule of survival.
Lo Wei pointed to the empty space on the left.
"Now, the first batch of one thousand people, go over there and line up."
"Line up, and each person will be given a bowl and a spoonful of soup."
"Those who run around will die."
The crowd hesitated.
They were used to robbing, used to stealing, used to fighting like wild beasts.
Suddenly, a small, thin figure emerged.
It was a child who was only a teenager, so dirty that his skin color was no longer visible.
He walked to the designated open space and stood properly.
Rowe nodded to the servant beside him.
The servant went over, handed the child an iron bowl, and then scooped a spoonful of thick green soup from the bucket.
The child picked up the bowl, not caring whether it was hot or not, and poured it down his throat.
He finished drinking, licked the bottom of the bowl, then raised the bowl and looked at Luo Wei.
"It tastes good," the child said.
These two words struck like a thunderbolt.
The crowd went crazy.
This time, instead of rushing around, they desperately squeezed into that open space, trying to form a straight line.
"Stand in line, don't fucking push me!"
"I'm in group one, and I'm the group leader!"
Order was established with that spoonful of green soup and that gunshot.
Luo Wei watched the gradually forming ranks below, feeling no emotion whatsoever.
This is just the first step.
He turned to Buck and said:
"Have your brothers keep a close eye on them. Especially those guys who look strong and have shifty eyes. Case definitely has someone infiltrated them."
"Don't worry." Buck grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "My gun has been itching for a long time."