69novels Chapter 79 For Cookies
Chapter 79 For Cookies
Chapter 79 For Cookies
"Case," Rowe whispered into the communicator.
"I'm here, supervisor," the wet server responded immediately.
"Immediately send letters, in the name of the Eastern Granary, to the lower districts of the two nearby hive cities, and to Hammond, the 'Iron Lung' of the Western Granary."
Tell them that the Eastern Grain Depot, out of humanitarian and environmental responsibility, is willing to accept, for a fee, hazardous industrial waste liquids, heavy metal slags, and any chemical waste that they find difficult to handle.
"Remember to be sincere in your wording. Say that we have a new technology that can safely landfill this waste."
Previously, these factories and grain depots had to pay hefty processing fees to the waste association to dispose of this highly toxic waste.
They either had to secretly pour the waste into the underground river, or they had to worry about being discovered by the court.
Now, Lowe is willing to help them handle it for free.
Of course, this "paid receipt" means that the other party has to pay him.
After thinking for a moment, Luo Wei added, "Tell them that our fees are 30% lower than the association's. We can also provide formal waste disposal receipts to help them with environmental audits."
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This is an incredibly profitable business.
He not only solved the fertilizer problem for the grain, but also ensured that these hungry "Grey Mule-1" mules were well-fed and watered.
They can also conveniently collect a hefty "environmental disposal fee" from these guys who are eager to get rid of their garbage.
This is how auditors farm.
Turn negative assets into positive assets, and garbage into gold.
"Yes, sir. The message has been generated and is being sent," the Case server replied.
Lowe turned around, in high spirits, and said to Susan, "Get the truck ready; our premium fertilizer will be delivered soon."
"This time, I will transform this wasteland into a true promised land flowing with milk and honey—no, poison and acid."
2 PM, Eastern Grain Depot Administration Building, Third Conference Room.
The indoor air smelled terrible.
The source of the flavor was sitting right across from Lo Wei.
Kruger, the logistics officer of the western granary of the Seventh Agricultural Zone.
He was essentially a figure similar to Old John, a confidant of Hammond, the "Iron Lung" manager of the western granary.
The man had half his head covered by a brass-colored breathing mask.
The mask's exhaust valve was heavily carbonized, and with each breath, it emitted murky black smoke.
His left arm was a crude, industrial-grade mechanical prosthesis.
Several greasy hydraulic pipes protruded from the joints, leaving streaks of oil on the mahogany conference table as he moved.
A freshly brewed cup of synthetic coffee sat in front of Luo Wei, its steam rising gently but unable to dispel the sour odor.
However, he did not show any disgust.
In his eyes, the person opposite him was not a dirty cyborg, but a fat sheep delivered to his door.
Kruger said in a rough voice, "Respected Director Lowe, our sincerity as the Western Grain Depot is laid bare."
"This waste liquid is actually a good product after primary sedimentation," containing a large amount of sulfides and trace amounts of liquid sulfide residue!
As he spoke, he forcefully slapped a document on the table with his intact right hand, sending dust flying.
"In the bottom nest, scavengers would beat each other so badly they'd spill their brains over a single bucket of food."
"Now, we are willing to provide it to the eastern granary free of charge, as—uh, as friendly assistance between brother units."
free?
Luo Wei sneered.
That kind of talk might fool a fool like Case.
The most expensive things in the world are often marked with a price tag for being free.
The Western Grain Depot is responsible for the maintenance of heavy machinery and fuel refining, generating tons of highly toxic chemical waste liquid every day.
According to the guild's standards, dealing with this garbage, which is even more troublesome than corpses, requires paying 50 credits to the Waste Guild in the lower levels of the Nest City for each ton, and you also have to be mindful of the whims of those gangsters.
If you don't pay the fine and are caught dumping illegally by the court or environmental inspectors from the Mechanic Church, it's considered a serious crime of "polluting a sacred site," which carries the penalty of being burned at the stake.
Kruger wanted to pass this hot potato to him while also hoping to gain a favor.
"You call this friendly assistance?"
Lo Wei chewed on the word.
Then he extended a finger and gently tapped the bird-dropping device terminal on the table.
"Case".
"I'm here, supervisor."
The holographic projection instantly unfolded between the two of them.
A series of cold, glaring red data bars appeared.
"Based on the Case server, the compositional spectral analysis of your sample was just performed."
"The fluoride content in this batch of waste liquid exceeded the standard by 300%. Kruger, you should know how corrosive fluoride is to the inner wall of the storage tank."
"Even a tiny leak could turn my expensive M36 centrifuge into a pile of scrap metal."
Kruger's one eye twitched.
This is the instinctive reaction after a lie is exposed.
He immediately retorted, "This is just a fluctuation in a few individual batches—"
Luo Wei gave him no chance to catch his breath, sliding his finger to another set of data and continuing calmly, "And here, the activity of heavy metal ions is very high. This means that if I'm to receive this batch, I must upgrade the entire underground transport pipeline with a leak-proof coating."
Do you know what the price of industrial coatings is now?
Lowe sighed, leaned back in his chair, and seemed to have lost interest in the deal.
"Kruger, we're farmers, not junk collectors. This kind of high-risk gift is too much for the Eastern Breadbasket. You should take it to the Bottom Nest; I'm sure the mutants there will love it."
Upon hearing this, Kruger became anxious.
He was on edge.
Pull it to the bottom nest?
It's not even in the options list.
Before his departure, the tyrant "Iron Lungs" Hammond gave him only one strict order:
This damn waste liquid must be cleaned up, even if Kruger himself has to drink it, it can't be brought back to the western granaries to take up storage space.
The convoy had already driven out and burned through its fuel. If they didn't unload and turned around, the sheer stupidity of the sunk cost alone would be enough to make Hammond stuff him into a shredder.
He was faced with only two paths:
Either you bleed profusely here, or you go back and become spare parts.
He had no way out.
"Manager Rowe, what do you mean?" Kruger's imposing manner instantly diminished.
Luo Wei picked up his coffee, took a sip, and let the silence linger in the meeting room.
Only when Kruger's mental defenses gradually crumbled and beads of sweat mixed with oil appeared on his forehead did Rowe put down his cup.
He pulled out a beautifully printed and bound parchment document from the drawer.
The cover features the following text written in gold-embossed High Gothic script:
"Agreement on the Environmental Treatment of High-Risk Industrial Waste Received by the Eastern Grain Depot".
Lowe pushed the agreement forward, reluctantly saying, "Considering we're all doing this for the sake of the sacred tithe, I can accept this batch of waste liquid."
"But I need to use special sealing technology, and I also have to bear the equipment damage, personnel health risks, and potential environmental audit pressure during the process."
He held up three fingers.
"Therefore, the processing fee is 35 credits per ton. This is the floor price."
"35?!" Kruger nearly jumped out of his chair, a thick cloud of black smoke billowing from his breathing mask. "The guild only charges 50! You haven't even given me that much of a discount!"
"The guild only collects the waste, not buries it. If they dump the waste into the underground river and something goes wrong, the source will still be traced back to your Western Granary."
Lo Wei tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"But it's different here. I will provide a formal 'Waste Disposal Receipt' stamped by the Executive Yuan."
"In other words, once this shipment enters my territory, I, Rowe Dane, will bear all the environmental responsibilities and legal risks alone."
"You're not buying service, Kruger, you're buying security. In this damn world, what's more valuable than a good night's sleep?"
Kruger's mechanical eye began to flash continuously.
He was clearly conducting an intense cost accounting.
Save 15 credit points per ton.
In addition, there are savings in transportation costs.
In addition, there's the complete legal shield of exemption from liability —
Three minutes later.
Kruger's greasy mechanical hand picked up the quill pen on the table.
Because of the excessive force, the pen tip scratched a crack in the parchment.
He gritted his teeth and said, "Deal, sir."
It was as if they had signed not an agreement, but a contract to sell themselves into servitude.
Looking at the crooked signature, Luo Wei's smile became more genuine.
He retracted the agreement, casually adding, "By the way, we need your transport fleet. My trucks are all busy in the fields."
Kruger's hand trembled.
A drop of black engine oil fell onto the pristine white tablecloth.
Four o'clock in the afternoon.
On the desolate highway where the eastern and western granaries meet.
The sky had a sickly leaden gray hue, with acid rain clouds hanging low.
As the ground trembled, a massive convoy appeared on the horizon.
Dozens of heavy industrial tank trucks, painted black with striking white skull and crossbones logos painted on their sides.
This is the Empire's universal "extreme danger" warning.
The convoy, billowing thick smoke, roared into the unloading area of the eastern grain depot.
This place was originally an abandoned mine, but it has now been temporarily requisitioned by Lowe and transformed into a "fertilizer transfer station".
O
"Get moving! Everyone, get moving!"
Old John brandished his stun gun, his voice sounding particularly violent in the wind.
Behind him was a group of people wearing simple protective suits.
Some of them had death row inmate numbers tattooed on their faces, while others wore tattoos of the Underworld gang.
Special waste recycling team.
The team has now grown to about 100 people.
Faced with a highly toxic sign that would make an ordinary person's legs go weak, this group of desperate criminals displayed an almost fanatical excitement.
Just ten minutes earlier, Director Luo Wei had made a promise over the radio:
As long as this batch of goods is unloaded today, everyone will be able to get a whole "military-grade" high-energy compressed biscuit!
At Fengrao No. 2, this is what a festival is like.
It was even more grand than a festival.
"For the cookies!"
A death row inmate missing half an ear roared and charged at the stationary tanker truck.
He struggled to lift the delivery hose, which was thicker than his thigh, and forcefully inserted it into the receiving valve on the ground.
"Click."
The metal latch clicks with a crisp, pleasant sound.
"Open the valve!"
As the valve was turned, a sound of fluid friction was heard.
The black, viscous industrial waste slurry, emitting a pungent sulfurous smell and the stench of rotting corpses, gushed out through pipes and flowed into a temporary underground storage pool.