blogombal Chapter 95 Eating Meat
Chapter 95 Eating Meat
Chapter 95 Eating Meat
"Hurry up, don't look like a bunch of ungrateful women!"
Old John's signature hoarse voice pierced through the noise.
He jumped off the vehicle, not even bothering to wipe the oil off his face, and began directing the group of workers, whose eyes were also bloodshot, to get to work.
The atmosphere in the loading and unloading area was less like that of moving supplies and more like that of a military operation.
The door to warehouse number 19 was open.
Boxes of dark green military supply crates were quickly lifted by forklifts and stuffed into the belly of the truck.
Following Rowe's instructions, the workers covered each layer of boxes with a thick layer of industrial waste and rotting plant roots.
These things are the most abundant garbage in the northern granary, emitting a nauseating stench that perfectly masks the smell and shape of the Grade A supplies below.
As the unloading of goods was nearing completion, Butcher Bill, with a thick cigar in his hand, also came to witness the bustling scene.
He exhaled a puff of smoke and joked, "Tsk tsk, Brother Luo Wei, your men are more efficient at this kind of dirty work than my machine gunners."
This was enough rations to feed an army, and also enough evidence to send him to the stake.
Luo Wei put away his watch, took a document out of the glass, and handed it over.
"Bill, you've come at the right time. Since it's dirty work, it needs a name."
Bill took the document and glanced at the title:
Industrial Hazardous Waste Disposal Agreement.
Further down, there is a list of waste materials written in High Gothic:
Deteriorated biomass, heavy metal contaminated waste residue, expired toxic feed —
Finally, there is a line for "Total Cleaning Fee".
The number is not small.
"According to the agreement, I will help you remove these 'severely polluting wastes.' In return, you will pay this fee."
"Given the long distance and the need for large-scale transportation equipment, which has disrupted normal production in the eastern grain depots, this price is fair, isn't it?"
Bill took the agreement, his thick lips trembled slightly, and then he burst into laughter: "Fair, absolutely fair!"
He took a pen out of his pocket and readily signed his name at the end of the agreement.
At this moment, the unspoken contract between the two was completely sealed.
According to the laws of the empire, Butcher Bill did not resell or embezzle strategic materials.
He simply acted as a responsible manager, spending a large sum of money to hire a professional team from next door to deal with a pile of garbage that could potentially cause a plague.
Bill folded the agreement neatly and carefully tucked it into his inner pocket, a hint of admiration flashing in his mechanical eyes.
A true appreciation.
"Love, if you had been born a few hundred years earlier, you might have been the captain of a merchant ship. You're even better at this trick than those nobles."
"You flatter me, Manager Bill."
Luo Wei nodded slightly, then turned and walked toward the Chimera 1, which was belching black smoke.
"I'm just a clerk who likes to 'correct mistakes'."
"After all, only when the logic in the ledger is airtight can the heads of both the big shots and us be as secure as the ledger itself."
As the last piece of camouflage tarpaulin was pulled up, the convoy slowly began to move.
Luo Wei stood by the car door.
Bill waved goodbye to him.
Luo Wei nodded and climbed into the dimly lit carriage.
"Drive home."
The suspension system of the Chimera tank creaked and groaned incessantly on the gravel road of the wasteland.
Unlike Buck, who took the opportunity to catch up on sleep while sitting in the bumpy seat, Lowe did not do so.
He took out the black ring that the governor had given him from his inner pocket.
The ring was cold, with the double-headed eagle emblem of the Valentius family engraved on the inside.
This is a symbol of power, and also a noose leading straight to the Governor's Spire.
Lowe knew very well that there was too much stuff in Warehouse 19.
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So many that even if he kept the accounts flawless and managed to fool a local warlord like Bill, he couldn't hide the eyes of the vultures circling in the governor's mansion.
If Lowe attempts to keep the supplies for himself, and word gets out, he will not be rewarded, but rather face an investigation by the court.
Of course, it's more likely that the governor fired a bomb into the back of his head to protect himself, and then, before the court officials arrived, announced that the corrupt elements within the organization had been dealt with.
In this world, nothing is more dangerous than eating alone.
To survive, you need to bring in a bigger umbrella to shield yourself from the rain.
Luo Wei opened his portable writing pad and, using the emergency lights in the carriage, began to draft a top-secret report.
His pen scratched across the paper, each word carefully crafted.
In the report, this batch of Grade A military rations was redefined.
They are no longer "strategic reserves".
It was transformed into "expired materials that were cleared out of the northern granary and are suspected of being slightly contaminated by subspace."
Lowe wrote: "—In order to completely eliminate the potential danger, I have recycled it as industrial waste."
"However, during the subsequent in-depth purification audit, I discovered that although most of the supplies were no longer edible, about 50% of them, after detoxification and purification, still possessed certain 'strategic value' —"
This passage is quite eloquent.
First, classify it as "garbage" to lower expectations and avoid legal risks.
Then, through "technical means," they turn waste into treasure, demonstrating their capabilities and loyalty.
Then came the stroke that revealed the true intention behind the painting.
"—To ensure the Governor's Guard's combat readiness, I suggest that the best-tasting and best-preserved high-energy protein bars and concentrated starch blocks from this batch of purified supplies be secretly transported to the Spire's private vault as 'special supplies' for the Governor's personal guard."
Luo Wei put down his pen, his gaze calm.
This is not about dividing up the spoils.
This is the final link in the complicity structure.
When the Governor's Guard took possession of the supplies, and when Alicia tasted the benefits they brought, she became one of the ultimate beneficiaries of these "ghost supplies."
Even if in the future, some conscientious Ministry of the Interior official does come to audit the accounts.
To protect himself, the governor would also use all his power to cooperate with Lowe and cover up this mess.
Of course, given the empire's administrative efficiency and bureaucratic style, the probability of being inspected is extremely low.
In an empire, the greatest protection is never the law.
Rather, they are a community of shared interests.
Luo Wei closed the writing board.
The black ring was pressed against the wax seal of the report, leaving a clear imprint.
We are still 300 kilometers away from returning to the eastern granary.
The convoy drove into the ruins of an abandoned gas station for a short rest.
This place was once a transportation hub connecting the north and south, but now only a few broken concrete pillars and broken glass remain.
The cold wind whipped up sand and gravel, which slapped against the car body with a crackling sound.
Buck rubbed his sleepy eyes, jumped out of the car, and stretched vigorously.
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He walked over to a truck, stared at the bulging canvas, and a glint appeared in his single eye.
Then, Buck approached Rowe, who had just gotten out of the car, rubbed his hands together, and asked ingratiatingly, "Boss, the brothers have been running for a day and a night, their bellies are practically sticking to their backs."
"Look at all this food in this car! Shall we open a couple of boxes and give everyone some real meat to try?"
The "high-energy protein bars" in the Imperial Grade A military rations are usually made from scraps of Grox beasts, synthesized animal protein and high-concentration fat, and then compressed.
Although it takes the form of a "stick" or "block", it does contain animal protein.
Buck was a rough man; he couldn't really distinguish between "synthetic protein" and "natural meat." To him, this stuff was a million times tastier than corpse starch—that was meat.
Not far away, Old John was also leading several foremen to gather around.
They didn't dare to interrupt, but their swallowing revealed their true thoughts.
For this group of lowly scum who rely on corpses, starch, and green soup to survive year after year, what's on this truck isn't food, but a ticket to heaven.
Even just smelling it is enough to make them itch with desire.
Dozens of eyes were fixed on Luo Wei.
Now, in their minds, Rowe is a good manager, and they would definitely agree at this time.
However, Lowe remained silent.
Then, he slowly drew his explosive pistol from his waist.
"Click."
The sound of a bullet being chambered rang out.
Buck's smile froze on his face, and he subconsciously took a step back.
The surrounding workers were as if they had been doused with ice water; the fervor in their eyes instantly cooled and turned into fear.
"Bang!"
Rowe raised his hand and fired a shot into the sky.
The echoing gunshots startled a flock of mutated carrion-eating crows nearby.
The flock of crows had been following the caravan all the way, attracted by the scent of food.
Rowe, his face tense, holstered his gun, his gaze sweeping over each face before he demanded, "Do you want to die? Buck, tell me, when was the last time you ate meat?"
Buck paused for a moment, then stammered, "Three—three years ago? Or five years ago? I can't remember, boss."
Last time, Rowe gave him a portion of the Grox meat steak that the governor had bestowed upon him, and he still hasn't been able to bring himself to eat it.
Butcher Bill fed him the plague rat's eyeballs and fried glands, which he eventually vomited up in the toilet.
Luo Wei then asked, "So, what about the workers?"
This time, Buck answered quickly: "They've never eaten meat. For three generations, maybe ten generations, they've never eaten it."
Luo Wei nodded and said, "So, your digestive systems have long since degenerated."
He went up to Buck and poked his shrunken belly.
The intestines there have long been adapted to coarse liquid food and starch full of impurities.
"Your body doesn't have enough enzymes to break down high-purity proteins!"
"Your insulin levels are as low as a dead person's!"
"The phosphate reserves in your blood are barely enough to keep your heart beating!"
As he spoke, Luo Wei coldly surveyed the crowd, his tone as if he were reading an autopsy report: "If I were to let you eat these high-energy protein bars right now, your insulin levels would explode like a volcano within half an hour."
"It will take away all the phosphorus, potassium, and magnesium that are left in your blood. Then you will experience difficulty breathing and muscle spasms."
"Your hearts will stop beating due to electrolyte imbalance!"
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