69novels Chapter 11, 7th Reclamation Corps
Chapter 11, 7th Reclamation Corps
The morning air at the Seventh Grain Depot lacked that refreshing scent of morning dew.
There was only the smell of engine oil, acidic fumes, and a stale smell, similar to fermented dough.
Huge exhaust fan blades slowly rotated on the dome hundreds of meters high, emitting a dull creaking sound.
Luo Wei stood on a makeshift platform, holding a cup of murky hot water in his hand.
He didn't drink it immediately, but instead used the faint heat from the cup to warm his somewhat stiff fingers.
His gaze pierced through the swirling steam and landed on the construction site below, bustling with activity that bordered on frenzy.
Fifty thousand refugees dressed in coarse gray cloth—
No, they should now be called the "Seventh Reclamation Corps," working in the fields like worker ants.
The steel harvester, which he had overseen the modification of and which the sages of the Cult of Mechanics hailed as a "miracle," was now emitting a deafening roar.
The giant serrated rollers mercilessly devoured everything in their path, from golden ears of wheat to mutated rodents struggling to survive in the furrows.
Luo Wei took a small sip of hot water, his brows furrowing slightly.
There was a metallic rusty smell in the water.
But this is already a "special supply" of water that special advisors can enjoy.
"The efficiency was even higher than expected."
A voice with static-like noise sounded beside me.
Loewe knew it was Alpha without even turning around.
The newly promoted technical priest was staring intently at the steel behemoth, his prosthetic eyes flashing red light.
"This is just the beginning." Lowe put down his cup, his tone flat. "A machine needs not only a powerful heart, but also a constant supply of blood."
He pointed to the row of fermentation tanks emitting green smoke in the distance.
"How many more days will the 'nutrient solution' last?"
The red light in Alpha's eyes dimmed slightly, as if it were performing some kind of calculation.
"Based on the current rate of consumption, and the harvester engine's demand for corpse grease... at most three days. After three days, we'll have to go to the morgue in the lower district to snatch corpses."
Lowe nodded; this was within his expectations.
"No need to rob it." He turned around, his gaze turning deep. "Someone will deliver the raw materials to our door soon."
Alpha paused for a moment, seemingly not understanding the suggestive remark.
Loewe offered no explanation.
He straightened his stiffened robe and took out a pocket watch from his pocket.
That was the only "luxury item" left by the former owner, Loewe, with the worn-out eagle emblem engraved on the brass watch cover.
"It's almost time," Lowe muttered to himself. "Manager Case's patience is probably running out too."
……
Case is indeed going crazy.
He sat behind his large mahogany desk, his face, which usually wore a greasy smile, now incredibly gloomy.
A report that had just been delivered was on the table.
That's the latest production estimate from the Seventh Grain Depot.
The numbers are glaring.
If things continue at the current pace, Lowe will not only be able to complete that damned 20% production increase target, but he might even exceed it.
What terrified Case even more was the 50,000 refugees.
They are no longer the lowly people who would wag their tails like dogs if given food.
Under Lowe's almost harsh "collective punishment" and "green soup rationing" system, this group of people had been tamed into an army that obeyed orders without question.
Although they were carrying scythes, Case had no doubt that if Rowe gave the order, those scythes would be slashing his neck.
"We can't wait any longer."
Case stood up, his large body knocking over a wine bottle on the table, spilling dark red wine onto the carpet.
In the shadows, a figure dressed in a black hooded robe moved.
"Sir, are you sure you want to do this?" The man's voice was hoarse. "Once we use that... the price will be high."
"The price?" Case sneered, his eyes gleaming with a crazed glint of greed and fear. "If that kid Rowe really takes over, I'll have to become raw material at the fertilizer plant. That's the price I can't afford!"
He took out a small box wrapped in black velvet from the deepest part of the drawer.
Upon opening the box, one finds a strangely shaped amulet.
It looked like the shell of some kind of insect, covered with twisted runes, and faintly emitted a nauseating aroma.
"Tell 'those guys'," Case tossed the amulet to the man in black, "Tonight, I'm going to turn the Seventh Granary into a true hell. I'm going to let that wheat... rot inside Rowe's belly."
The man in black robes took the amulet, his body visibly trembling.
"Yes, sir."
……
Night falls.
The seventh granary was not completely plunged into darkness.
Giant searchlights pierced the murky night sky, casting dappled light and shadows across the wheat fields.
Luo Wei did not return to the dormitory.
He sat in a corner of the repair shop, flipping through a thick "Imperial Agricultural Machinery Maintenance Manual" under the dim light.
Although he had memorized the book perfectly, he still habitually did something while thinking to mask his inner anxiety.
He is waiting.
Like a patient hunter, waiting by the trap for the moment the prey steps in.
"consultant."
Buck walked in.
The one-eyed commander was fully armed, his armor gleaming, and his explosive gun hanging conveniently on his chest.
"Is there some movement?"
Luo Wei closed the book, his fingers gently stroking the spine.
"Yes." Buck nodded, his expression grave. "As you instructed, we left several gaps in the outer defenses. Just now, the patrol discovered a group of unidentified people sneaking in through these gaps."
How many people are there?
"About two or three hundred people. Their equipment is mixed, including automatic guns and homemade bombs. They look like gang members from the lower districts."
Luo Wei's lips curled up slightly, revealing a hint of coldness.
"A gangster... that's all Case is good for."
He stood up and straightened his collar.
"No, that's not right."
Luo Wei suddenly stopped what he was doing, his brows furrowed.
If he were just a gangster, Case wouldn't have had to wait until now.
Those who tried to burn down the fermentation tanks before serve as a cautionary tale.
Case knew very well that it would be difficult to destroy the current Seventh Grain Depot by force alone.
unless……
Loewe's gaze fell on the mechanical manual.
The image of the Mechanicus sage flashed through my mind, along with the fanatical look in his eyes as he modified the harvester.
And that vague, unsettling intuition.
"Buck," Rowe's voice became urgent, "which way did those people come in?"
"East District, near Irrigation Canal No. 3."
"Irrigation canal number three...?" Luo Wei quickly constructed a map of the granary in his mind. "It's connected to the underground water circulation system and is the water source for this wheat field."
They didn't come to burn grain.
They came to poison the plants.
Perhaps something even worse.