chsdbacks Chapter 69 Salary
Chapter 69 Salary
Chapter 69 Salary
Three days later, at six o'clock in the morning.
The Office of the Eastern Grain Depot Supervisor of the Seventh Agricultural War Zone.
Luo Wei sat at his desk with a cup of still-steaming synthetic coffee in front of him.
In addition, there was a list of supplies that had just been delivered.
This day marked one month since he came into this cruel world.
It was also the first time he, as a formal official of the empire, received his salary.
Old John stood respectfully across the desk.
His face, though full of wrinkles, was beaming with joy.
He handed over two items with both hands:
A thin credit card and a heavy physical delivery slip.
"Sir, this is your ration for this month, which has been issued in advance."
"As is customary, the salaries of fourth-level court clerks are directly deposited into their accounts. The remaining portion is handled through special channels."
Lo Wei took the list.
Quickly scan each line of text above.
As a transmigrator with an auditing background, Luo Wei is accustomed to examining the essence of this world through cold, hard numbers.
The first part is quite standard: the basic salary for a Level 4 Clerk is 1200 Imperial Credits.
This amount of money has virtually no purchasing power in the upper levels of the Nest Tower; it might only be enough to buy a silk handkerchief.
But in the dark and impoverished agricultural areas, it was a huge sum of money.
This means two boxes of "Black Lung" brand synthetic tobacco, which has a pungent, acrid smell and excessive tar content.
This means that you can exchange dozens of greasy chips at illegal gambling dens on the underground black market.
Of course, it also means cheap and dangerous pleasure.
For example, go to the red-light district, to those tin shacks with pink neon lights, and find an illegal, mutated prostitute. Her skin may have tiny scales, or she may have extra fingers.
Or perhaps you could try an "ecstasy injection"—a mixture of industrial alcohol and hallucinogenic fungi—to experience a moment of false tranquility amidst vomiting and spasms.
Seeing this, Luo Wei couldn't help but think of his ex.
The supervisor, Case, was as greedy as a glutton and as lustful as a boar.
During the audit, Lowe pieced together Case's decadent lifestyle from the forged documents:
He kept three mistresses in the refugee camp and indulged in carnal transactions with no hygiene guarantees for a long time.
This resulted in Case's private medical records being even more fascinating than his embezzlement ledger:
Lymph node ulceration, fungal herpes, and a stubborn form of syphilis that mutated on Planet Plenty II.
In Lowe's eyes, Case's body was already a serious "bad asset," on the verge of being scrapped due to accelerated depreciation.
Even if Lowe hadn't brought him down, given the rate at which the virus was spreading, this former manager's life expectancy would most likely not exceed three years.
But at that point, Lowe had to take action because Case could kill him at any moment, and he wouldn't live to see the third year.
In short, for ordinary laborers, 1200 Imperial Credits is a huge sum of money.
For officials who need to maintain a "decent" image and smooth operations, this is merely a drop in the ocean.
The second part is the Special Agricultural Advisor Allowance: 3000 Imperial Credits.
This is the real issue.
However, what caught Luo Wei's eye the most was the third part:
The temporary supervisor of the eastern granary was specially allocated rations (by special approval of the governor).
This column contains no numbers, only the names of the items.
[Amasek Brandy (Sacred Terra Region/Questionable): 2 bottles]
Grox Steak (Grade A Chilled): 5 kg
Uncontaminated Arabica coffee beans (vacuum-packed): 1 box
Energy Usage Rights: Unrestricted
Luo Wei gently stroked the words "unlimited".
On this planet shrouded in acid rain and cold, heat is life, it is power.
In summer, the daytime high temperature is 16°C.
In winter, the lowest outdoor temperature is -60°C.
Former supervisor Case had to steal hundreds of tons of wheat to exchange for high-energy fuel rods on the black market in order to keep his office at a constant 24 degrees Celsius, while also having to be constantly on guard against surprise inspections by tax officials.
Now, all Luo Wei needs to do is sign his name, and the underground boiler will roar for him alone.
This is the taste of power.
"Cut the chops." Luo Wei looked up, his tone calm. "Keep one pound and send it to my dorm. Divide the remaining four kilograms into three portions."
"Give one to Buck and tell him it's for the nutrition of his new ear."
"One portion is for Father Alpha. To make room for auxiliary capacitors in his iron head, he probably already removed his digestive system and doesn't need this inefficient protein. But this meat is for his apprentices."
Loewe knew that Alpha was a pure tech fanatic.
He poured every penny of his budget into expensive parts and holy lubricant, leaving his workshop extremely poor.
Once, when Lowe went to inspect, he saw several apprentices who were not yet qualified to carry out mechanical modifications. They were so hungry that their eyes were green, and they were hiding in a corner, stealing filtered, turbid cooling water to endure their hunger.
Despite being penniless, this priest possessed the stubbornness and aloofness characteristic of the Mechanics Church.
They would rather have their apprentices chew on screws than ask the Executive Yuan for extra food rations.
"If Father Alpha is unwilling to accept them, tell him it's to ensure the efficiency of his organic assistants. If the apprentices all starve to death, who will polish his sacred gears in the future?"
'
"The last one is for the widows' group led by Susan."
He silently did some calculations in his mind.
Five kilograms of meat, if consumed alone, would at most make up a few decent dinners.
But if they are separated, it would be like binding this armed and technical team with chains.
Sharing scarce resources is a more effective loyalty test than any empty slogan.
Old John's Adam's apple bobbed violently.
In his cloudy old eyes, a light that seemed almost greedy shone.
It was as if he saw not food, but a piece of shining gold.
"Sir, are you...are you sure?"
He asked, his voice trembling.
"This is the back meat of a Groxmon! These grumpy giant lizards only appear at banquets on the top floor of the Nest City."
"I've examined the meat; it's bright red, firm, and has real blood vessels and fat marbling—"
As Old John spoke, he wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth.
"This is completely different from the 'ant-cow canned food' you gave to the death row inmates a few days ago."
"The canned Ant Cow food is nothing more than scraps mixed with cartilage, internal organs, and preservatives. Compared to this Grade A chilled fresh food, it's practically animal feed."
"This is real food, rich in pure animal protein, unlike those synthetic junk products made with dead people's starch and thickeners—"
"Do as I say." Lo Wei waved his hand. "As for the wine—"
Loewe picked up one of the bottles of Amasek brandy; the amber liquid swayed in the glass.
"Take this bottle too, and give some to those 'Special Recycling Team' members who just got out of death row."
"Tell them this is an advance payment for their lives. Next time they go to a hellhole like the Ninth Grain Depot, I hope their hands don't tremble."
.
Old John swallowed hard, a fleeting glint of greed in his eyes quickly turning into deep awe.
"Yes, my lord. Your generosity would put even the Emperor to shame."
"Don't drag the emperor into this; he doesn't have time to worry about our stomachs."
Lo Wei carefully locked the remaining bottle of wine and the bag of precious coffee beans into the safe.
He turned the keypad until he heard the crisp click of the lock, then, without turning his head, ordered, "Prepare the shuttle; I'm going to the spire."
"You—you're going up there?"
Old John froze.
If the granary is a living hell, then the spire of the Nest City above the clouds is the playground of the gods.
However, the gods there are capricious and bloodthirsty.
"Advisor, this is too dangerous," Old John warned. "Everyone knows the air up there is fresh and sweet, but that's filtered through the blood of the lower classes."
"Those adults living in the clouds sometimes kill a granary manager more casually than we step on a cockroach. They don't need a reason; it's just to add to the festivities of a banquet."
In the lower levels of Plenty II, countless terrifying rumors circulate:
A diligent supervisor went up to report on his work, and was turned into a living specimen simply because the mud on his boots had soiled the nobleman's carpet.
Another supervisor, because his eyes were not respectful enough, was thrown into the arena by a nobleman and fed to alien beasts.
For these people who toil in the mud, the towering spire of the capital city meant absolute power, and also absolute death.
"After getting paid, I should always thank my boss."
Luo Wei straightened the double-headed eagle badge on his collar and picked up the thick "First Phase Production Report of Experimental Field A-3" on the table.
"By the way, I'll also hand over a pledge of allegiance."
As he reached the door, Luo Wei suddenly stopped.
Turning his head to look at old John, who was bowing and waiting to the side, he asked with a playful tone, "John, I distributed meat and wine to everyone, but you, the logistics manager, received nothing. Don't you feel a little resentful?"
Upon hearing this, old John shuddered and shook his head vigorously.
"My lord, you flatter me!"
Old John bent down even lower.
"You've entrusted me with the immense power of allocating supplies; that's the greatest trust you can place in this old man."
This is a face that's infinitely more precious than a few pieces of meat or a few bottles of wine!
He raised his eyelids, and a shrewd glint flashed in his cloudy eyes.
"Besides, even though I'm not easily fooled, I can see that if I follow you, I'll have more than just meat to eat in the future."
"You've given me a secure position as logistics manager, so I don't have to scramble for soup in the refugee camp anymore. That's the greatest reward you can give me, a blessing from my ancestors."
Luo Wei smiled and said with satisfaction, "As expected of Old Deng, who has survived at the bottom for so long, he speaks very clearly."
He patted the report in his hand and strode out of the office.
"Stay safe at home and wait for me to come back."
Old John naturally didn't understand the word "Old Deng".
However, he roughly understood that Rowe was praising him.
So he scratched his head and revealed a shy, honest smile.